Had an hour today, perfect for a "llama ride" up Tropical Trail.
2 new young ones!
They're multiplying! I count eight alpacas now. They are really fluffy.
On the way south, gray skies lure me into mosey-mode.
Two cyclists on road bikes pass with about three miles to go to Mather's Bridge. The tall guy up front has no luggage and no troubles, but the girl in back has a seat post rack with a pack that looks unzipped. Her bike is also adorned with blinkies down both sides of the seat stays, and she is wearing a reflective vest. I've seen that look before.
Randonneurs!
I catch up to tell her her pack is open. It isn't that hard to do, even on 2.2's.
She is stretching her back, and weaving ever so slightly.
"Looks like the end of a long day for you guys?"
The girl pants, "You talk," to the guy up front.
(Wow, it has been a long day.)
150 miles. Started in Titusville, SR 50 to Orlando, somehow to New Smyrna, then down here.
There are too many cars to ride alongside long enough to hear more, so I drop in behind and bide my time until I can ask more questions. I sincerely hope they don't have to ride back to Titusville tonight. There's not much wind, but what there is, is out of the north. I consider inviting them for dinner, or at least offering my cliff bar.
Unfortunately for my inquisitiveness, the light is with us. They peel off, with a wave, heading south toward Eau Gallie, and I don't get to satisfy my curiousity.
I have a soft spot for distance folk. Distance running, distance cycling, call to me. Too bad it's a calling that takes so much time.
Maybe I can talk Popeye into putting the Cross Florida on the spring list of possibilities. It's not randonneur distance, but it's a start.
Of course, I'd cheat and ride Killer. Full suspension for me!
And lights. And a vest.
And blinkies, lots and lots of blinkies.
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