Took an evening ride in a snow shower that was too pretty to ignore. A fresh breeze out of the Northwest gave the outbound leg a slap-my-face-and-spit-in-my-eye character. Turned around in Lexington and rolled home with an intimate tailwind. All the dogs that make it their business to alert their masters to the presence of bicycles on the Minuteman were in good voice tonight. Near Seasons Four, heard but did not see what sounded like a turkey, but perhaps it was something else, e.g. a feral Organizational Change Management consultant.
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Last edited by rholland1951; 03-04-13 at 08:41 PM.