This morning Mr H says to me, "I know we're going up to Carmel this weekend for the races and racing isn't really your thing. So if you want to bring one of your bikes and do a little riding, I'm ok with that. It would probably be really beautiful riding the 17-mile drive in Pebble Beach".
But I'm not going to. We're camping at the racetrack, which is a little inland, it will just get too complicated.
On a similar note, while we were riding this past weekend one of my friends asked if Mr H was still ok with all the time I spend cycling. I told her amazingly yes, there must be some catch somewhere, he's probably having an affair and is glad I'm out of his hair. "Well," she said. "That would be a shame but at least you'd have more time for cycling."