Nice morning for it.
I really hate the new pannier; this afternoon’s project will be to cut some backing boards for it out of veneer to keep the floppy bags out of the spokes. I rode home with them bungied up on the cargo rack. But the bike itself worked great through fourteen bumpy miles – except for the matter of never shifting below third gear.
Ran into a little gang of cattle that didn’t know what to think of the strange thing with two wheels.
T was kind enough to leave his truck at the bottom of their mesa, so I could drive up in comfort rather than trudge up in pain and self-loathing. But I kind of felt bad about it when I got there because of course the boys recognized the sound of the truck immediately and thought Daddy had come home. They like me fine, but I wasn’t who they wanted to see. So there was this riotous party in the courtyard that went instantly silent when I appeared over the wooden gate.
