After three tube replacements (not mine) things settled down, except for the wind, and I got into a bit of a rhythm. My riding companion decided not to push her luck any more and submitted to the tire gods. A stiff east wind dictated a ride across the river. Who'd of figured? There's a whole 'nother city over there! Comin' home was sweet, for several reasons. 40/16.6
Veiw From Cherokee and Smith. I think this quaint little town is called St. Paul. High Bridge
You know, seeing it from that perspective (as opposed to suffering on it) kind of explains why it's called the High Bridge. Nice shot.
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