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Here Comes the Sun

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I think it was Bob Hope, who said about his golf game, “I shoot in the low 80’s. If it gets any hotter I don’t go out.” That’s the way I envisioned my days after I retired from competitive skiing, though obviously in the other direction. I’d ski in the low 30’s and not if it got colder. After thirty years of peeling off clothes to a thin piece of lycra at the top of a blowing, snowy mountain I’d lost the ability to differentiate between the feeling of being cold and the emotion of being nervous. It’s not good for my poker game when I start shivering in the middle of the summer. The problem is that some of my greatest days on the hill are the ones that I wouldn’t have gone if I’d had a choice.

That said, I was super happy to see the sun yesterday. It seemed like it had been so long in the rain that I’d forgotten what the sun looked like. My phone died before the last 11 miles so I wasn’t able to record the full ride, but even then it was the most vertical gain of any day. A cop pulled Robert over because he was following behind me (read protecting me) at considerably under the sixty-five mile an hour speed limit on the 101. I had another flat, but other than that I got back in the car at sixty miles feeling like I might not be crushed after every day—that feeling didn’t come until later. It looks like it will be sunny again today. We’ll try to avoid the cops and we’re looking to go 75 miles from Piercy to Redwood Valley and then hopefully riding into Napa tomorrow.

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