There's something organic and primeval about riding in a group, especially on the road. At the best moments a collective consciousness is tapped into by all of the individuals, coalescing into a smooth double paceline.
Maybe it's the endorphin buzz. Maybe it's the collective effort and shared labor. Whatever it is, it's a beautiful and elusive creature.
We were holding the tiger's tail yesterday around the airport with over twenty people. But then wheel's touched- someone went down- and they were back up, helmet intact, finger dislocated.
The pace of the ride slowed down after that as we made our way back to the Taphouse for medicinal pints of anti-inflammatory adult beverages. Sharon's gonna be OK, and her finger will hopefully mend quickly.
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