In what has become a regular Saturday morning thing, we rode out to Lake George via the Old Federal Highway this morning. Fixies only, and at a surprisingly fast pace, we cover around 65-70km before breaky at Spill the Beans. For those bike nerds out there, we roll on around 73 gear inches.
Today me and Steve took the journey in what started off as a 2 degree, frosty and foggy morning. My house is situated on a 'fogless' hill, so as I left it didn't dawn that I'd need flashers to warn cars of my presence. Within a couple of hundred metres I hit it and my distrust of cage drivers became apparent as I stuck to the bikepaths for safety.
The fog rolled over the hills until we reached clear skies. Steve decided to disrobe as he was getting a bit toasty, but as Murphie's Law would have it, the fog came in again until we reached Lake George.
Steve's bike, looking ever so colour coordinated with his apparel.
A bit of a moonscape, with windmills in the distance catching the wind from the open plains. Well worth the ride for the view, but breakfast was calling.
Steve took a moment to contemplate........the journey home.....after all, he is old (his words not mine).
And this is the last thing his breakfast saw once we reached Spill the Beans.