Words and images will not get across the udder perfection of this morning's ride. 32 degrees, ground lightly soggy from rains last nite. Quiet. Cold. Perfect. Solo. Until I was taking a piss, minding my own business and SOME DAMN FREERIDER rolled up in the clear, cold dawn. Hah! It was the other, other R. We rode the rest together, my lard ass getting dropped on the climbs AND the descents, and we took a little time to ponder the realities of dreamy realms. The woods are deep, and dark, and with concerted effort, the travel management plan may reach it's full potential before my 25th anniversary of riding in the hood. Back at it tonight. And tomorrow. And until it shuts me down....then it looks like a season closer POWDER DAY at Eldo....and that would be poetic. New Year. Clean Slate. Go to it Boyz.