Farmers Market Fun

The Ramblers were out en masse at last night’s FMR. I hadn’t been there since June — I don’t believe, and what a welcome back I received. My average heartrate was 161, though I think for the ride it was near 170 for an hour and a half. What can you say? The peleton is a funky critter. Attackers shooting off the front only to be swallowed up and spit out the back. Riders who pull mercilessly on the flats and can’t keep the past on a false flat. Riders who won’t pull through and seem to resist your wanting a rest. Cannibals who chew the “pullers” up and leave their carcass on the road some where like so much roadkill. We made it back though someone almost was side-swiped by a truck pulling a trailer, the peleton didn’t work well together, and it was each man (or woman) to themselves. Chum, Der Jan, and I sat up on our road, and enjoyed a more leisurely pace back to the barn. We picked up a rider from the Fitness Center Ride who was trying to get back to High Point. We took him a little out of his way before we found out where he was going. Chum and Tailights! road home, and I expect got in before it was too dark, I on the other had hitched a ride not merely home, but back on the road. It was great being back on the road together.

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About randamir

I pastor Grace Presbyterian Church in Kernersville, North Carolina which locals fondly refer to as K-vegas -- the town not the church. As D.T. Niles once said, "I am not important except to God."

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