Sunday morning I was 1.2 miles away from home, heading over to join the club of Sevens (ten minutes early I’ll point out), when the tell tale signs of a flat tire slowly started revealing themselves. “Am I riding in sand? Why can’t I control my bike? What’s that clanging sound?” It’s been a long time since I have had a flat. Probably six years. Call me lucky, call me light on equipment, just don’t call me gifted with a CO2 cartridge. I got the tire off in record time, 5 minutes or so, found the hole, swapped tubes, put the tire back on, and prepped the CO2. I’m a big fan of CO2 for their size, but truth be told, I am .200, or one out of five when it comes time to actually use them. I should say I was one for five, now I am a Papi-esque .166. As I have become accustomed, the CO2 went off in my hand and the tire stayed flat. My frustration, coupled with my frozen hand is the only excuses I have as to the lack of photo documentation. I walked home, 1.2 miles with my tail between my legs.

I had some time to kill on my walk back, so I called Joe Wignall to see if he’d come rescue me. He was in Rhode Island. I called Neil next, after all, he had been to every ride previously and was likely on his way over anyway. Nope, he was home watching the French Open, trying to get enticed to play a little tennis. I plan to recruit Neil to be my next hired gun to dominate the Tennis North East league, http://www.tennisnortheast.com/. I’ll guarantee a second place or better performance if he ever actually acquires a racket. Next up, Rob Vandermark. By this time I was heading down the hill to the house so I no longer needed rescue, I just needed to find out if people were waiting or if I’d have to hunt them down. Turns out they were nice enough to wait.

On to the ride.

Again, a stunningly beautiful Sunday. Mid 70’s, no wind, just ideal. We had a tight nit group:
Jon Henig:



Rob Vandermark:



Graham Dimmock:



That's Jon, Rob, and Graham I said:



I know what you’re thinking; the streak of one new rider per ride has come to an end. Sad day indeed. I’ll do my best to make sure this doesn’t happen again.

Graham was the leader of the group today, and he took us on a different route to Walden Pond, then on to Concord for a muffin, then home. Due to my tardiness it was an abbreviated ride of about 35 miles.

We rode up through Bentley College,

and over to Trapelo Road for some short steep hills.

Did anyone know that there was a pond off of Trapelo Road and Lexington Street called Hardy Pond? I had know idea. I forget how hilly Trapelo Road is, up and down, up and down. Short steep climbs too, just short enough that you can attack and before any real pain sets in, you’re cresting the top. Once the route crosses over I-95 it turns beautiful, we crossed over Cambridge Reservoir, and up into Lincoln.



Before long the asphalt turns red and the Decordova Museum (http://www.decordova.org/) passes by on the right. I wonder when they decided on red asphalt? Why red and not purple? Who gave the "ok" on this? I guess it is a nice change from the norm, but I can’t say I have seen it anywhere else, so why Lincoln? My three second search on Google revealed nothing. Nothing!

We passed Walden,



and high tailed it to Concord for some grub.



That looks like a man who wants some grub.

This time I went with a blueberry muffin and a large lemonade. Both hit the spot. No one ordered the breakfast sandwich however, so the mystery continues. My research has shown that one part muffin and two parts lemonade turn your stomach to cement in just one mile. But just three miles later, that cement turns into a PED like substance, see for yourself! (Quick side note, this is also the caption and win photo of the week. Wayne won the Chunky bar, but I ate it on the way home, so his will be delivered next week)



That pose there required every last bit of energy the muffin provided so I looked like this:



the rest of the way. It wasn't worth it.

I’m off next week, but will be back in two. In my absence feel free to contact Joe Wignall or Neil Doshi for ride details. See you soon.