Jeannie was selling her artwork at a birder convention, so to avoid the worst of the holiday traffic I took mostly secondary highways to Luck, WI, abandoned the gas guzzler there temporarily, bought a trail pass, biked the last 17 miles in a blazing 2.5 hours, and joined her in Siren for a noisy but pleasant evening at the Little Mexico.
Jeannie gave me a ride back to Luck to retrieve my car.
The Gandy Dancer trail is fogey-friendly with crushed gravel and gentle inclines. The weather was just right, between 65 and 70 the whole way. The day after, I have no muscle soreness to speak of. Must be the weight exercises I'm doing at the Y.
(The other day when a bagger offered to carry my two bags of groceries out to the car I declined: "Thanks, but I'm Mr. Macho, the world-renowned body builder and professional wrestler. I'm surprised you didn't recognize me when I came in." The young man smiled conspiratorially and said, "Oh yeah. Now that you mention it, I do recognize you.")
Back in Saint Paul now, total absence less than 24 hours.
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