Maybe this happens at your house, probably it does. Knowing bikes like I do, I'm practically certain it does. For certain premium adventures, my bikes are rivals competing to be selected to join me. They know I've got to decide which one will get to go to New Mexico in mid May.  Tryouts will continue until I make a final decision. This weekend, the Meriwether showed strong.

...rode my bike, took a photo of a flower, productive morning.

There were supposed to be 3 guys in this photo. You'll have to do what Tim and I did for 4 nights and 3 days, which is to imagine Erl right there in the middle of it all.

Gonna meet up with a couple of good friends for some pedaling and camping in east Arkansas in a few days...hoping it'll be much easier going than New Mexico mountains in May.

Could replacing drops with upright bars with a graceful sweep make my whole body feel more relaxed and comfortable without sacrificing (what amounts to me as) performance?

It was a splendid morning in the grasslands. In my gushing joy, I was telling myself that the lack of altitude and elevation gain was being offset by wind, hardened clay horse hoof craters, and sand.

It's been about 6 weeks since I claimed to have started building fitness for 2026, but no real progress has been made. Less weather, more saddle time, and more elevation, please.

... photos from my Caprock Canyons overnighter.

Finally, after about 10 days off the bike, pedaling resumed. As the days passed, I felt increasingly old, stiff, and sluggish. In my world, ice is as confining as a coffin, and I had a correspondingly dark mood.

We've been coated in ice for a week, had to get outside for a minute, even if only for a short walk and a brew up.

No, not today. Not while we are coated in ice.

This is mainly a post to share a YouTube video of my overnighter. But it is also an example of why I love Texas winter.