While the wheels and wrenches have been turning over here at the TuckamoreDew HQ, there has been an increasing pressure of photos and words building up behind the blog jam. The recent unfortunate demise of my computer power supply has also slowed blog production and trapped within the quiescent hard drive my many non-uploaded photos. Since my wife had been telling me for months to buy a new computer, I am going to be very hesitant about begging time on hers.
Nevertheless, I am tossing a stick of ACME brand TNT into the offending dam and releasing a torrent (or more likely a dribble) of blog posts covering the summer`s acitivities, in reverse chronological order. Photo editing will necessarily be minimal at this time.
Last Sunday evening a group of 29 moderately like minded cyclists headed out for an evening of late summer riding. We were a group varied in age, with a range of bikes likewise varied in age. I rode my 1965 CCM Continental 3-speed. The ride leader was pedaling his light bike and towing the music booming, laser beaming trailer.
Milling about at the Leg.
Storming the parkade.
At the summit.
Jester at Sunset.
The Fabulous Light Bike
A few riders anticipated a need for liquid fuel later in the night. Incorrigible hooligans.
A pretty little fountain in a little circular park that I’d never visited before.
A secluded pedestrian bridge.
Let the dance party begin.
A dervish-like blur of motion dancing to a ukulele solo.
This sort of behaviour makes an old man like me nervous. Happily, there was no misadventure.
Two-speed kickback with kick.
Ending the night with outdoor video games by the firepit. My Tetris skills were only mediocre. I will note that 3 1/2 hours of sleep is a meagre ration to get one through a Monday at work. You’d think that at my age I’d have outgrown my compulsion to see a gathering all the way through to the embers-and-ashes stage.
tuckamoredew 