My body said enough. Six days of riding, one night of drinking, and two hours of sleep puts me in rather unpleasant altered states of consciousness. I’m not quite sure how I managed to ride up Slate River Road to Rick’s house to watch the Tour de France at 7 a.m., but somehow I managed. And got back without crashing horrendously, despite my body’s protests and severe unbalance. A “real” ride will have to wait.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Slate River Road to Rick’s House