It was a beautiful ride . . . alone. MY version of the story goes something like this.
I started out with Frosty, Milena, and Gunnar at a nice pace. About 5 miles later, Milena started to pick up the pace. I figured it would be temporary, and the boys would stay with me. Wrong. They took off. A few miles later, they stopped to shed some layers, and I caught back up. By now, I had turned some music on because I had no one to ride with (with the exception of Rick, who was blaring his own music and cannot (does not want to?) hear you if you talk to him), and Frost exclaimed, "You've got music!" I replied, "Yes, because you all dropped me." He chuckles to himself, and takes off. The first time they dropped me, it was more of a 'passive' drop. The second time they dropped me like a hot potato.
The remaining 60 miles, Rick and I peddled along through the beautiful forests. We came to the first town (30 miles away) and couldn't find any restaurants, so we rode to the next town (another 20 miles) and finally got something to eat. 25 more miles and we made it in to camp. The funny thing was that we were actually the second ones in to camp. Apparently, after they dropped me, they proceeded to get lost and came in about an hour and a half after us. It reminds me of a little story called "The Totrise and the Hare".
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