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| Tripoli to Sumner |
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| Photo courtesy of Steven, pre-slap heard round the dam. |
We rode out of town, down a long hill. I remember seeing some nice trees. I remember riding up some hills, nothing serious. A nice stream here and there, and then eventually the road opened up and we were out in the countryside. The Mayor rode with me for a bit, I think. And, I asked him to protect other riders from my dangerous and erratic potential.
Though, eventually, I got separated from my team. That's okay, I thought. I got this. Oh, vodkfidence.
In fact, I was better than "got this." I was having a blast. All lingering pain had been numbed by booze. And any lingering concerns I had about my abilities were washed away. And then, I realized something else.
I was soooo tall. Well, I wasn't actually tall, but I felt really, really tall. Like my 48 cm bike was now a 60 cm bike, and I was on top of it. Higher than all the other bikes. Higher than the cars! Higher than the corn, even! Weeee!!!!
In hindsight, I think this is actually an optical illusion caused by a combination of vodka and polarized lenses because when I rode in my regular glasses, I shrunk back down to mini-size. But, it was amazing. I felt like I had no legs! And, I was flying over the road! Yippee!!!
Then, I stopped to have a pee in the corn. It was muddy. This made me giggle to myself. Hilarious. Ragbrai was hilarious. And, it was sunny! And I was riding my bike! Magic!


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