I rode north on the Mono-Amaranth Townline, sharing the same side of the road with homeward bound commuter traffic, into a stiff northwest breeze that didn't help my untrained legs, which quickly tired on every molehill that I contested. I thought of Tour de France cyclists tackling roads which wound 6 kilometres up mountains with 8% grades, and felt better.
I gained rapidly on a 17 year old kid who was skate boarding to Shelburne, suggesting as I passed, "This wind must be tough for you!" to which he replied between puffs, "You got it, man!"
Shortly after, I stopped, gave him the entire contents of my water bottle, for which he seemed to be eternally grateful. He told me he'd been on the road for 2 hours, having started in Orangeville, and was about halfway.
Since I had a cellphone, I asked, "Want me to call a taxi?" to which he replied, "Sure, if you pay!"
That settled that.
On the way back, I ran into a trendy looking guy on a Cervelo bike, who was kind enough to stop and offer solicitous advice after I'd shifted too quickly and my chain had fallen off.
"Nice bike" I commented, "Cervelo has a large and impressive presence at the Tour. It's nice to see Canada represented"
"What is yours?" he asked, more in politeness than curiosity.
"Garage sale. $200. Runs like a tank. Wanna trade?"
He begged off, then made plans to continue his ride to the 20th Sideroad, some 5 minutes further north. I knew he'd be flying when he made the turn to return south, so, pedal-to-the-metal, I charged hard for home and thankfully, was not overtaken.
"You look ashen and gray" commented Juice. "Who were you racing today?"
"First spin of the year, dear. You know they're always tough!"
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