A Hard Tire is Good to Find

Ah, Mae West, my kind of woman.

I put The Boyfriend on probation when he failed to notice my haircut. You see Men, when your woman does something different, do notice unless you wish to find yourself in deep doodoo. (women nodding in agreement saying, "I hear ya Sister"). Me above, a few miles into the Marin Century (though I did the Metric).



The Boyfriend did receive a few brownie points because we slept in a wee bit at the motel in San Rafael before setting off on the ride together at 6:30am. The fog lingered as you see from the photo above.






The fog begins to burn off.




Sunshine and heat as the day wore on. I finished the Metric in 4 1/2 hours (a flat tire/improper tire pressure slowed me down a bit along with the illama that caught my attention -- should have got a photo; though I managed to hit 35 mph on a descent) and The Boyfriend (who did the scenic Mt. Tam Century) finished shortly after (amazing).



The Boyfriend redeemed himself by buying me new tires and having me practice changing a flat. He would have completely been removed from the Doghouse had he: a) served me wine while I changed the pretend flat tubes and new tires and b) invited a few Chippendale men for entertainment. But he was an excellent instructor who made the training session amusing. And well, the photo of him during the Death Ride where he looks like a darn cute Mighty Mouse kinda did me in, too. As I said earlier, "A hard tire is good to find or is it a good tire is hard to find?" Whatever -- I know I found my man.