Twenty Five Miles

I wanted to check out the new bike shop in town.  It's a quick five miles as the crow flies. But sometimes when on a bike we like to take the long way. 

I took the quiet back roads which only added three or four miles but it was simply too nice a day not to ride around a while.  This shop will probably be my new LBS.  My prefered was near work, forty miles away, and it was easy to drop off the bike at noon and pick it up at five when I needed routine stuff done.

The Village Bike Shop is located in Mattapoisett, MA which is a small New England Coastal town.  Looking out from the harbor on a clear day one can see Falmouth, Woods Hole and Martha's Vinyard. 


                                                   Gazebo at Mattapoisett Harbor.

The intern wrench is also a soccer fan of German decent.  We bantered back and forth about the possiblity of our two sides meeting in the round of 16.   I am hoping the US plays Germany and he is hoping for the same.  We both thing our squads can win. 

I had no thought other than to ride out toward the country.  The roads are wide and have very little traffic which makes for wonderful riding.   It was hot and I had no food so I decided to stop at my old golf course.  I haven't played in seven years and Rochester Golf Club was where I noviced.   Some of the Friday night league players were gathering and we had a bit of a reunion.   An energy drink and granola bar got me ready to move on. 

I have to mention that I was on the road bike.  It's a black and yellow Felt carbon fiber without top of the line hardware.  I have always been skeptical when I read about fellow bloggers, mostly commuters bragging about cruising along a 22-23 MPH.  I now know it's the bike and have shaken my head a few time when I glance at the speed o meter and see me cruising along at those speeds.   Lots of my questions were answered especially when I wondered how some pretty big guys maintain their positions in pacelines I have seen on some rides.   It's the bike stupid.    Now I know, or should I say, believe.




Leaving the villiage.

Quiet country riding in Rochester and Acushnet, Ma.