2,000 and 1 riders
I don’t like where this is going.
No, it’s not the miles. Not the mountains.
Not the long passes or falls off my bike.
Not the blisters on my butt.
None of that bothers me.
What bothers me are the other riders. 2,000 of the little suckers. I rode across the U.S. solo. Good Lord, I rode almost 900 miles from Prudhoe Bay to Anchorage.
In the rain.
Against the wind.
So when I see/hear all the other riders
“Passing on your left. ” “Passing on your Left.” I get bummed out. And if I was not shackled by
the camp grounds, by the rules, I know I could blow all those suckers away.
Because they would all give in and give up before me.
If I was still 21.