There are days when the world collides. Often, this is a Monday. As I write this the sun is setting behind the flatirons. It is 3:22pm. Even mid-day - the light is low. The woods are dark. But - down here in the flatlands - they are dry and fast and I'd rather push my bike any day of the week than not 'get out' using my bike for at least part of the trip. Appears the 'Gold Dot Mafia' has also moved to lower environs. Cracks me up to think the distance between that dot and it's nearest cousin. So, some riding, some rolling with The Man of Joe, always worthwhile and refreshing and energizing and now I think I am ready for this week.