»In which I ride across a bridge, again

After last week's exhilarating and brief ride north'ards, jimg and I headed up an' over Camino Alto and then up an' over White's to have a snack (alas, too cold outside for that really appetizing bottle of Lagunitas IPA! -- next time!) at the Woodacre Deli. I found myself not at all tired, but each climb or long flat stretch had me working the ol' cardiovooscular system on all cylinders. We wound up at Box Dog Bicycles ogling the odd assortment of tandems. Especially the dark-green track tandem.

This was also the second weekend running that I was smoked by someone riding a fixie. Last weekend Jimg handily schooled me from start-to-finish, and especially while heading back up Conzelman Road. This week, while I was huffing and puffing up the south side of Camino Alto, I heard a cheery "How ya doin'" over my left shoulder, and I turned to see a fellow clad in a flannel shirt, with a canvas bag over his bag, riding a beat-up old frame and pushing a single gear at full steam. I did not see him again: he pulled away from me so quickly that though I strained to reach him at the next curve, he was lost from sight.