I didn't take many pictures either, between downtube shifters requiring every ounce of dexterity I had (hey, I only stuck my fingers into the spokes once!), and one photo-op almost becoming a crash. But I got a few.
First order of the day was finding one of the approximately 50 bike shops along the route so that Henry could buy moar wattz.
As usual, this left John speechless.
Time passes unphotographed. Eventually the group stops at a famous landmark to catch a breath and grab a bite.
The new vintage aluminum wunderbike performs wonderfully on its inaugural ride. No wonder I felt so wiped (more so than usual that is) during climbs... low gear is 42x27!
It was a perfect day for a ride, even after the heavy rains the day before. Sunny, not much wind, and warm enough.
A detour along the Cross Marin Trail was like travelling through a rainforest.
Except a few miles down the road, the pavement turned into dirt, which had been turned to mud by the rain. All our meticulously detailed bikes were turned into muddy messes. Well, except for that one dork with the fenders...
All in all, and despite me tacking on a dozen miles at the end getting completely lost, it was a great ride with some amazing scenery.
Sorry you couldn't make it, Pete. We missed you there. John was weeping openly in Point Reyes.