Sunday, September 20, 2009
Where the sidewalk ends.
So we pressed north on the Monon, some eleven or twelve miles from Roseholme Cottage to the workface of the trail mine, where jets of high-pressure tax dollars are used to hew bike path out of raw native railbed.
All told, it was a respectable twenty-four-ish miles for me; considering that I hadn't ridden more than a fraction of that in one day before, I was pretty happy. The thing that amazes me is that I could have kept going, too; it may be a fairly modest entry-level Trek, but it sure did ride nice, and compared to my previous steed it was like pedaling a cloud.
As an aside, one thing that amazed me while I was bicycle shopping is the continued existence of the drop-frame or "girls" bicycle. I mean, I guess I can see it on a town cruiser, but on a mountain bike? Who goes blasting down forest trails in a skirt?