Then the road told me that ominous times lay ahead. That it was going to violated as he roads in my neighborhood have been - ditches, giant holes, digging, scraping and re-piping. Look at the lines - you don't have to be a palm-reader to see the future ...
On a more positive aesthetic note, I spotted a particularly colorful planting at one house along my route. Green, red, grey, purple, pink, yellow-green. And beige stucco on the walls.
I rode for quite a while, then after a stand-up session on an extremely steep stretch, I suddenly found I couldn't shift my front derailleur. The cable had popped out of its guide. Maybe due to frame flex? Fatigue? Old age (the bike, not me)?
