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And it happened as good as it could have. I left home a little after 6, to give Stephanie and I the most benefit we could.
And we pedaled. And pedaled. And pedaled. And pedaled. And cursed. And pedaled. And pedaled. And chowed down on oranges and the most amazing cookies I have ever tasted in my life (circumstances may have influenced my opinion).
And pedaled. And pedaled. And coasted. And pedaled. And pedaled. And pedaled. And cursed. And pedaled. And pedaled. And coasted. And pedaled.
And celebrated! Cuz, holy cow, we actually made it to the end!
Was it an elegant ride? No. Did it beat any records? No. Except maybe for cursing. Are we proud? Heeeeeeeck yeah! What we did? It wasn't nothing!
And Bill did it 2 hours and 20 minutes faster than we did. His ride? Much more elegant with much less cursing. And it did beat a record: last year he rode the Iron Horse in about 5 hours; this year 4 hours 20 minutes. Am I proud of him too? Heeeeeeeck yeah!
