In 2000, me wifie and cousin and I did a hired bike tour of the best whisky in the world. Three miles, three distilleries. Grin. The winding costal road got straighter with each stop. Grin. Then we discovered that our bnb was the other side of the island instead of just three miles on. Whooof. My bike had no tools, but the handlebars came loose in the headset. Bashed it back into place with a bit borrowed from one of those drystone walls you can see there. Jacobs sheep laughing at me through the whisky mist. The roads that go inland are straight, which seems mighty curvy after three distilleries of tasting. Grin. Scotland redefines headwinds. Islay redefines them yet again. Ain't nuffin' slowing them down from gaining speed across the Atlantic. Then they hit me and I slowed down. A lot. Grin.
With abandon, Patrick On Sunday, February 16, 2020 at 10:03:29 AM UTC-7, David Carner wrote: > > > https://www.theguardian.com/environment/bike-blog/2017/aug/17/hardcore-cycling-in-almost-guaranteed-rain-scotlands-no-frills-anti-sportive > -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "RBW Owners Bunch" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to rbw-owners-bunch+unsubscr...@googlegroups.com. To view this discussion on the web visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/rbw-owners-bunch/746ea169-b7c9-4ca2-8b95-d1a1da25359b%40googlegroups.com.
