Steve, his friend, Ben and I did our signature "ditch" ride this weekend. I've mentioned it before. It's about 42 miles, much of which winds right beside a culvert of water. Most of it is pretty tame. In fact, one of the more harrowing parts is ducking the dogs that rush us as we pass by. I think the anticipation of seeing a couple of them is actually worse the the real encounter.
My favorite is a large Rotweiler with a sharp bark, who, I kid you not, just happens to be named Bobo. To tell you the truth, I have never actually seen Bobo. Just heard him as I pedal by, keeping my eyes down and my pedals circling. This season, so far, he hasn't materialized. This time we called him, hoping he would come out and make an appearance. No such luck.
Lesson learned: I think Bobo moved.
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Clips of my life, through a new lens.
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