It was almost 60 last saturday. Those temps mean one thing this time of year- a break from the winder doldrums, and a ride!
Most folks in Denver go South on the Platte River Trail. Towards suburbia, and maybe a jaunt up the mountains to Morrison and Red Rocks.
My girl and I swim upstream. We go north, in to industry and decay.
We'd stolen a day from winter. No snow, no slush, no frostbite. Just endless sky with puffy clouds, and sleeping grass, waiting for spring rains to return to outrageous shades of green. A day to remind us why we missed our rides, and loved our bikes.
I used the last of my outdated Ferrania film from Italy in my XA on this jaunt. This little walleyed camera is growing on me.