I find myself sitting here, squinting into the western sky, coming back in and refreshing the Weather.com screen, going back outside and sniffing the air... Do I ride to work today, or no? On the one hand, a front is blowing through and there are supposed to be scattered thundershowers through the day, and I have yet to pick up any rain gear. But they're supposed to be done by the time I'm off work, and besides, it's not like I'm made of sugar or salt. But the road could be wet. But Sunday is the only day during my work week that I get to ride home while it's still light out, and enjoy the twisties on Canton Hollow and Mourfield, rather than a blast down the superslab in the dark. But the Beemer must be getting lonesome, having hardly been driven all week.... Wish I had a chicken whose entrails I could consult.
Judicious use of sitemeter has turned up several blogs'-worth of bike-y goodness, on topics as diverse as Box Stock racing, zooming through the hills and valleys of East Tennessee, and (near and dear to my heart) jousting with the cagers on the daily commute.