I inaugurated the slick Race Lite front tire that now matches the back. Predictions that smooth, hard tires would make me scary fast are vastly overstated. I managed a bit over 12 mph average, in part because it was a solo flight with nobody to chase, in part because the humidity was murder. Well, and partly, I think, because Mo had me up a bit in the night and I wasn't feeling that perky anyway.
I didn't even set a new record going down my favorite speed hill, 55th west of Rosehill, only managed 41.1 mph going down that. I did almost four miles per hour faster back in June on that hill.
Not a long ride, either, 16.5 miles. Enough to make me sweaty, but I doubt enough to make up for what I ate when I got back.
And I still have trouble getting my newest nephew to smile for me. Em charmed him senseless, and Grandpa even got a favorable review for the old piggy toes routine. Me, I got just the glimmer of a smile and he had to bury his face in Daddy's shoulder to hide it.
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