It’s about 10:00 a.m on Sunday morning, and I’m cooling off after a bike ride. I recall the days of joining my brothers on jaunts to the beach following the San Gabriel river-bed (OK, the concrete river bed – it’s SoCal), but that was a LONG time ago. I’m no longer interested in pounding out the miles of a twenty-something (or is that a fifty-something?) but 60-70 minutes of a steady-pace does it for me.
Another observation strikes me as I drink my cup-a-joe. Those morning rides in SoCal started in sun and frequently ended at the beach while the Southern California “purple” was lifting. And it was 68 degrees. I haven’t seen 68 degrees for the past three months. It was rapidly approaching 92 when I was storing my bike.
I am frequently asked by family members (Left Coast) and friends (East Coast) do we Texans bike (or play golf) during the summer. What a silly question. We’re Texans. We don’t hibernate during the summer. We embrace it. Bring it! Bark, bark, bark!