Colorless, odorless, and tasteless would have been a serious improvement on the air we had on Monday afternoon, blown across the continent from the Pacific Northwest, full of particulates, and certified to be unhealthy by the EPA, so I put on a KN-95 mask to keep the particulates out, put a little air in the Surly's Rat Trap Pass Extralights, and rolled out to the Eastern shore of the Mystic Lakes, what's become my shortest standard ride on a hot day.
The Giant Schnauzer was AWOL, but a Giant Flamingo had taken its place.
Distant sails on a slow afternoon.
Launching the kayaks.
Riding a bike in a dam infernal setting.
Crossing the Aberjona as it flows into the Upper Mystic Lake.
The scene at Shannon Beach recalled a beach day on Mars, or perhaps sufferers of the original Delta outbreak crowding into the Ganges to be healed. Only more fun than any of that.
Over the course of the ride, I saw a lot of other cyclists out in the smoky haze.
I'm not looking forward to having to explain the weather to my granddaughter. She's a little young for it right now, but the day will come.
rod