I was doing a gravel ride the other day when I encountered a problem that I’ve only seen happen in the mountains. A first-world mountain problem, if you will. No one’s going to starve, get hurt, or die but it did sort of mess up my plans for the day.
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In this season of transition between autumn riding and winter skiing it’s a good time to stop and reflect on the past year to give thanks for what we have.
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So a couple of days ago I was JRA (just riding along) when I heard a loud bang from the back of my mountain bike.
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Pandemic weirdness and the occasional cleaning day aside, since retiring and moving to Salida, our lives have pretty much felt like one ongoing vacation every single day. Riding, hiking, skiing, life is indeed good. But even living in God’s country, sometimes you need a change of scenery.
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