A Sunday Ride in November

Every ride outside now is a bonus ride.  Snow is a constant possibility and, after whiffing the endless hours of sitting on a trainer or rollers in a back room, sun and 40 degrees is downright delightful.  As I did last week, road in on Hwy 3 to meet the guys from Dubuque in Durango.  Nine o'clock on a Sunday morning is pretty uneventful, mostly folks going to church in Luxemborg or Holy Cross, and they offer plenty of room, most of the time an entire lane, as they pass.  Is it the Sunday sermon effect?  or maybe they're just used to seeing me on the road now.  The exception is the evil milk truck driver.  He drives a blue milk truck and hurtles down the highway, probably to the Swiss Valley plant in Dubuque, at various and unpredictable days and times.  Today he caught me just past Holy Cross, waited impatiently for some churchgoers to make the turn and then passed me.  He now gives me plenty of room, but then deftly rides squarely on the gravel shoulder with his right wheels.  Over-correction?  Naw, he stays there for a good 200 yards, spewing gravel and dust into my face.  If that's the worst of it, then I'm OK and I meet my buddies at the crossroads in Durango.

Mike, Spahny, John and Lance, good company on a nice November ride