After a fun, albeit long, day at the zoo with two friends and our collective brood of six children, I was eager to hit the woods for a little decompression ride.
Maybe I picked the wrong night to resurrect the single speed, as I was already considerably beat before I clumsily labored up the first climb.
I've missed that bike.
I don't know...it felt so right when I started out, but things quickly unraveled and only got worse.
After thirty-five frustrating minutes (and, literally, falling into a rut), I called it and hastily made my way back to the car.
I just couldn't shake off that flat, nasty feeling and knew if I'd kept riding, it would only get uglier.
Tonight, I'm heading out again...maybe with gears, maybe not.
It will be better.
And, duh, I won't look at the ruts...