Justin and I rode this morning. Under dark rainclouds. In a light rain best described as pissing. J. and I have both purchased new bicycles within the last couple of months. Mine a Trek 1200; his a Lemond. This was the first time we'd had them both out together -- "we accomplished something today," J. would say later.
Hit the road at around 8 with a head fuzzy from both the shot I have to take weekly and saying a sudden goodbye earlier in the week to someone I care a lot about. Biking has a way of rattling that stuff out of your mind, if just temporarily.
After a slow start -- we had to turn back from the start of the Schuylkill Park path thanks to a stinking CSX train -- we made pretty good time, getting out to Valley Forge and back in a little under 3 hours (we'd done the ride earlier in the season in 3:20). Suffice it to say, the new bikes work. We averaged just under 17 mph (on the earlier ride we'd clipped 15.3) with J. nursing a hangover and me working on about 5 hours of restless, medicine-hindered sleep. Granted, we were humbled by many of the pro cyclists (in town for the USPro Championship this weekend), but for us, it was a banner day: 49.17 miles, 16.971 mph.