To the Mountains

From Oshawa to Brighton to Kingston to Watertown to Cranberry Lake, and now to Lake Placid. It was nice to say we're doing The Adirondacks but finally, actually doing it is both better and harder. At some point we had climbed almost an elevation of 1900 feet. Certainly other people seem impressed.

The only hiccup so far happened just past the Mountain Mist Ice Cream Stand in Saranac, NY. A common paper staple gave me a flat. After a manly and commanding tube change we set off with only 15 km to go before reaching Lake Placid. Six kilometers later and I was again showing just how good I was at fixing flats. Another flat fixed and a few kilometers more and we were in Lake Placid. It had been a 90 km day through valleys and up some gut-wrenching climbs. We felt we deserved a supper of champions.

Treat ourselves to steak? Oh yes we did (I'll give Glenn the award for finishing a 24 oz piece of prime rib which looked sort of like a roast of beef or a VW Bug). We finished the night with laundry and bad TV in a nearby Comfort Inn.

What, you may ask is hurting after 500 km of riding? Thighs? Butt? Nope. My sunburnt lips. Driving me nuts. Not enough Advil in New York to stop the hurt.