Friday, November 28, 2008

2008 Turkey Burner

It was raining more often than not and if we were each left to our own devices we'd probably have stayed home. But the traditional ride on the day after Thanksgiving is, well, it's a tradition, and Matt, Mark and I had fenders on our bikes and snacks in our bags so we went out and east and up. We rode on nearly as many trails as roads and on at least one road, the road that went along the middle fork of the Snoqualmie River, that seemed intent on being more like a trail than a road. We talked and we rode and we rode until Mark declared that this was the spot to stop and snack so we stopped and snacked.

And then we rode home. We passed by steel-head fishers on Fish Hatchery Road and wondered if they were having luck. I commented that I was sure they were having some kind of luck, the sport is called fishing after all and not catching. Matt observed that we were having similar luck, our sport is called riding, not getting somewhere.

Sixtyfour miles doesn't burn off a whole turkey but it's a start.
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