Woodlands, 52 km. Sun is out. Sunblock is smeared. Bicycle is rolled out - at a different time, lest I, uh, run into that woman-who-ignores-shouting-cyclist again. I’m still shaken by my experience last weekend. Imagine if I’d skidded and bounced face-first into a parked car’s window or smashed into one of fat mama’s kids ...
Like last week, the sky grows dark, the clouds rumble and thunder roars. Rain pelters down. I sit beside a reservoir and zip up. My jersey I mean. I don’t have to zip up my lips as I cycle solo. I see several other solo cyclists. I guess the pelotons are on the road at dawn, while high noon is for us soloists.
When the rain lets up a little, I stop for lunch. The stall owner is glad to see me. Can’t be that many cyclists who stop to eat his food I guess. We talk a little about his business and he moans about the laws of the land. He says 'we don't have to work anymore" but somehow he still wants to cook, but not over expand his business. He's got human resource problems. Nice lessons there, for those who'll listen and learn. Our chat is like one of the highlights of the week. What a week it's been. Hope the sun shines on me really soon, I'd like to bask in it for a while. Without sunburn.
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