This past week I rode my mountain bike all week until this morning. I enjoyed riding it. Like I said yesterday, I've been trying to revisit my favorite haunts in a whirlwind blitz.
Last night when I got home I stowed The One in the shed and pulled Minus out. I got 'er ready for this morning, thinking ahead to a potential Ramming Speed Friday, and started looking forward to a road bike commute.
I say all this in the midst of a frothing-at-the-mouth obsession with the Surly Krampus. Yeah, I'm kind of a manic cyclist. Fat, skinny. Skinny, fat.
I really dig riding my 26 year old 14sp, steel-framed road bike. I was going to ride up Lookout Mountain before work this morning. I had it fully in mind to do the 6 mile, 1,700' climb right up out of Golden. But when I got to town I just didn't have it in me. Maybe I'm still getting over the funk I had earlier in the week. Maybe it's just been a long week. Maybe it was the backpack.
Tonight I'll be ramming my way home in the dark. For safety's sake I'm going to bend the rule a tad and say a valid 6 o'clock dark Ramming Speed commute is 17mph or better.