Into the Fog

Speeding along at 18 mph: perfect pavement and a line of riders disappearing into a grey curtain of fog – red safety beacons winking rhythmically. So began our morning. It was deliciously cool, and the miles disappeared beneath us.

I rode in a pace line of nine other riders. We took turns at the front pulling into the wind – while the group benefited from riding in the slipstream. Later I teamed up with my new friends Patty and Brian. The road was a place of fellowship today, bound together by our common concern for the welfare of others.

It was a quick 80 miles. Legs and back feel good. If that weren’t enough, I adjusted my cleats and took care of a nagging pinch on my right sit bone.

There’s a broad diversity of riders. We have young guns who love to go fast, triathletes, senior citizens, those who ride $5000 bikes and folks who ride relics. It all comes together in a caring and respectful community for one week out of the year.

This evening we celebrated under the watchful eye of Herman the German – a statue dedicated to burning and pillaging overlooking New Ulm. We enjoyed free beer and a yummy meal while an oom-pah band played.

God thought for today: the tranquil beauty of this morning points to a creator who has the power to make all things beautiful.

80 miles tomorrow.

Grace and courage friends.

Behold Herman