While you were sleeping in my bed and Dad was watching Sci-fi, I pumped my tires and rode. It was so smooth, the ride, like cutting Jello with one of the butter knives we've had since the beginning of time. Over the bridge, down, back round like an Olympian, through the trees of 5 a.m. to the cross, then to your park. I stopped and did some pull
(
Read more... )