Guitar

An old one-liner, oil on canvas. Here, the whole is less than the sum of the parts, I feel. But putting everything up in the spirit of documentation.

Jim and I went on the bike ride on Sunday with a coworker of his. They are getting ready for TOSRV. At mile 31, we had breakfast at Ashville. They had a Viking festival going on for the weekend. Big people in chainmail. Jim took us through a more hilly route to the restaurant this time.

On the way back, I was fighting a head-wind and was not happy. Wind is more frustrating than hills. With hills, you know you crest and that is it. It is finite, even if it stretches to quarter or half a mile. No such thing with the wind. I brought up the rear. Jim broke a spoke on his rear wheel and his wheel started to wobble, so we had to abandon our route and find a short-cut home. So, we ended up riding 58 miles instead of our planned 64. I wasn't exactly broken up about having to cut the trip short, but it sucked, what happened with Jim's bike.