This is not winter

A perfect Saturday can look something like this. Wake early and hungry. Eat as much as you like, knowing what’s about to transpire. Drive the still-quiet highways to Malibu, meet the LA Tri Club members at 8:30. Put together your bike and move the legs for three hours. In the sun. Along the Pacific. In 72 degrees. Up and over Mulholland Drive. While making new friends and realizing how f***ing lucky you are.

Yours truly on Mulholland Drive

Yours truly on Mulholland Drive

Yep, that was today.

Of course, it’s not exactly normal to have an endless series of days that, in Holland, would qualify as EXQUISITE SUMMER DAYS. But that’s Los Angeles ā€“ at least, this year.

I have written about the drought and the mid-winter wild fires in NRC. Southern California is dry, brown, sandy right now. Rain hasn’t fallen in weeks and weeks. Today, on the way back after one of the Great Rides, I saw the consequences. The 101 is often backed up, but today it was so for miles. The reason: the fire trucks blocking several lanes as they were fighting a small blaze along the shoulder of the highway. I suppose any fire is potentially disastrous in this drought.

I will say, though, that the post-ride high was keeping me pleasantly tired, and Zen-like in my demeanor. Neither the traffic nor the worrisome drought got to me. Not on this perfect Saturday.

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