On every ride there's something that stands out, unfortunately sometimes it's negative, like a vehicle passing within 12 inces at 70 mph, but today was a good day.
As I started out I was headed into the wind, it didn't bother me much, kind of getting used to the wind and I knew I'd have it at my back on the way home.
I rode Hwy 8 to Linden and then from there I headed to the High School about 4 miles out on Hwy 125, the first pictures are of what I call the "High School Hills", pretty good hills, good grades.
When I reach the High School I take a road that cuts thru to Bivins road and then I return on Bivins road to Linden and then north to my County road and then to the house. Today as I was on the Cut thru from the High School to Bivins road, just before Bivins road I discovered a friend running along beside me, a rather large black Labrador Retriever.
Well Blackie never barked and really didn't bother me at all, he was just having a ball running along beside me, I thought of Forrest Gump, maybe that'a what I should call him.
Just before Bivins road there's a pretty steep little dip in the road, this allowed me to get ahead of him for a moment and I didn't see him so I figured he had returned home. No, No, as I turned onto Bivins road, I hear panting beside me and there he is running along beside me, not bothering me in the least. This isn't the first time a dog has followed me, as a matter of fact, I've had three of them follow me all the way to the house, then I had to load em up and take em home, I didn't want to do this with "Forrest".
I drop down a gear and put on my best sprint, I look beside me and there he is, I'm having a rought time, gasping for air and laughing and telling "Forrest" to go home. Finally I come to a little dip in the road and pull ahead, allright maybe I've dropped him, as I pull up the other side of the dip I look to my right, yep, there he is running with his tounge slinging from side to side and slinging slober all over his head, I'm beginning to slober a little myself.
After about three eights of a mile I come to a flat section where I usually try to do a little interval, I take off. Just about the time I'm about to stroke out, my maximum sprint, I look back and he's losing ground, I feel kind of sorry for him, he's really working.
At the end of the flat there's a nice downhill and that's probably the only reason I finally made my break, but I'll have to admit, I kept looking back all the way to town, expecting to see him.
I did manage to get a couple of pictures of him, but it wasn't easy with me trying to lose him and clicking pictures at the same time.
In the photos below you'll see "Forrest", he's out front in the photo, he pulled into the lead while I was getting my camera out and snapping pictures.
The last photo is terrific meal prepared for me by my lovely support crew, Teresa, chicken, mashed potatoes, blackeyed peas and tomatoes, um, um good.
