Category: Local

New England Journal

Then we time trial home on a guttural roar tailwind. Threes, twos and fours trying to keep one another in sight, trying to find a gear that you don’t need to shift out of because your rigor mortis hands have trouble doing it, trying to negotiate the betrayals and the surprises of how you feel. Trying to have an April ride.

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Agribiking NYC

Harry confirms it’s a route he hasn’t done but has heard about, that we might well get lost and dark comes early, that they are all technically public rights of way and, at any rate, the farmers have given permission, the last of which especially gets my attention though the rest of it sounds interesting, too.