Friday, July 4, 2014

Butterflies beyond Boggs and all hail the mighty pickle!

Today is the day Mericans like to spend all day grilling meats and then when it gets dark or said Mericans are sufficiently intoxicated, they like to light fire to Chinese-made substandard explosives. Having been injured as a child by aforementioned drunks bearing small missiles, I hate being outdoors on July Fourth as it approaches dusk. I made sure this wasn't going to be a long trip.

I drove to Cecil Park trailhead to get a leg up on Montour and go further beyond Boggs than I had previously.

It's difficult to get a butterfly to pose for you. It requires a bit of patience. Birds are more troublesome though.

Here, THREE butterflies posed for me.

This lovely orange flower is Asclepias tuberosa - Butterfly Milkweed


I lunched at Quicksilver

I wonder if these are Service berries.

The weather was perfect.

Campers at Boggs

I turned around at Findlay.

At the Findlay Activity Center, I was inactive. I chose to rest my caboose and to sun myself in the grass.

While I was there I got a call from the Hubby, he wanted to know what type of pickles I wanted while he was at the grocery store. He is awesome. I've learned pickles are mighty good at staving off leg cramps, I believe so much in the magic bullet that is the pickle that I convinced the MS150 Tour planners that the almighty pickle should be avaialble at rest stops. The cyclists loved the pickles.
Before I left this morning, I had a swig of pickle juice, made a pickle and Swiss sandwich for lunch and the man who has my best interests at heart is making sure I'm stocked with pickles. I heart pickles. I haven't had a ferocious bout of leg cramps in quite a long time and I attribute it to pickles.

As I approached Boggs on the return, a woman stopped me to ask where we were. She was unfamiliar with the trail and hadn't been along this part of it. I looked at my phone and told her it was Imperial according to the GPS coordinates. She rode with me from Boggs down to Quicksilver and we talked the whole way, she often rides the North Shore but was reluctant to try the streets. As we descended a steep grade and picked up speed, there were deep washouts of the trail on one side. I was in the lead and instinctively, I pointed to them to let her know a hazard was ahead, especially important for someone not familiar with this end of the trail. When our pace matched again, she said "Thanks for pointing to those ruts, I was wondering what you were doing." I explained that it was a group ride necessity and went on to try and coax her into attending a Flock ride.Very nice to talk with her; I loved her bike, a pink Nikishi Royale.

This interesting bouncy-house thing was set up in a yard for a July 4th party. Color me jealous.

When I left Cecil Park, I noticed a self-serve car wash across the street. I hooked the bike to the rack and took Ruby over to power wash the cassette, rear derailleur and chain. Sooooo many hunks of black crap came out of there. Yes, I'm steering clear of the crank bearings when I power wash the bike. I also hosed out the underside of the fenders where something had been rubbing and making an annoying noise for a while now. Hopefully, it goes away if I hosed out the offending item.

I can see the gears now!

They were caked in black gunk embedded with bits of grass and gravel.

A great day, 29 miles with optimal weather.

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