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an afternoon in the saddle

As promised, we took a bike ride this afternoon, and I took pictures. Not so much of the biking part—my camera is too unwieldy for that, as much as I would have loved to get some over-the-handlebar shots—but at least of some of the scenery. Like, for example, the historic house pictured above, which as leisurely bike-tourists we were happy to stop and visit.

We stopped an awful lot, actually, in the first section of the ride; how could we do otherwise, when there were British regulars in the middle of the road?!

This portion of the ride was through Minuteman National Park, so the presence of old-timey folks was not entirely unprecedented, though of course no less delightful for that. Ditto old houses. That was on rock dust; thence we headed, on modern roads, into historic Concord center, where we shopped for a bit. Then down Monument Street to use the bathroom at the Old North Bridge, before hopping on a dirt trail to give the folks on the mountain bike tandem a chance at real off-road riding. Here we all are at the end of that section of trail.

After that it was just getting home on the paved bike path, with Leah speeding ahead of us for milk-production reasons. Actually, it wasn't really getting home home, because we had left Harvey at Grandma Beth's and had to head over there to pick him up. It really brought back memories, riding up the hill on Oak Street when I would much rather have been off the bike eating dinner. As nostalgic as it was being back in the old hood, I much prefer the flat approach we have to our current residence. Scenic over there, though.


For the historical record, I will say that I had full confidence the Red Sox would lose the game they were playing while we cycled happily, getting swept from the playoffs in the process, and thus I had no compulsion to want to stay home and watch it. This was not their year.

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