Fifteen in, Frank’s seat exploded. He’s lucky he still has his ass. He rode the 15 back in style standing up. I would have probably collapsed, but he still kicked my newbie butt on the way back.
We rode on the NCR trail which is another old railroad bed converted into a multiuse trail. Bikes, walkers, joggers, horses. You gotta watch out for the horse shit on the trail. It is a great ride. The trail is pretty flat, though you are climbing a gradual hill going north, and it takes you through some of the most beautiful country in Maryland, IMHO. (I may be a bit biased since our grand parents lived in Sparks and the trail makes its way thorugh Sparks, Glencoe and Monkton.)
One of the best parts of the trail is that the Gunpowder river winds its way back and forth under bridges on the trail, and that there are gigantic peices of granite jutting out of the ground on the sides of the trail. This is piedmont country, the foothils of the Appalacians.
On a day after a rainstorm, like yesterday, all you can smell is the earth. It is a great smell.
Well, we had a fantastic ride (I did at least – Frank may feel differently, especially today).
386 miles till new bike.