Sloth and I were both looking for a ride of about 25 miles this Saturday, but neither of us wanted to drive somewhere to ride bikes. So, the plan was hatched that I would ride solo to the coffee shop, and Sloth would meet me there, then we would ride to my house, and Sloth would ride solo back to his place. Everybody gets 25 miles, nobody had to drive.
So, I rode down to the coffee shop. I drank some coffee. When Sloth showed up, he had forgotten his GPS or something, so we had to ride back to his place.
Once we got there, he had some sort of French whisky for me to try. Under normal circumstances, I don’t drink intoxicating liquors before noon, but this was just a taste[1], and it would have been poor manners to decline so generous an offer. So, I had a taste, and it was a very nice whisky indeed.
Now that we were fully caffeinated and had a wee nip[2], it was time to go ride bikes. We made it almost 11 whole miles before we decided it was time for lunch. So, we stopped off and had some beers and some cheeseburgers.
Beers. Cycling caps carefully posed for the picture
This worked out pretty well for me, because the restaurant was only a mile from my house. Sloth had to ride back over the mountain with a gut full of bacon cheeseburger.
People will tell you that riding bicycles is a good way to loose weight and be healthy. I do not see how this can be true.
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[1] It may have been more than just a taste.
[2] A double