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| Naples, New York, one of the many beautiful scenes at the Highlander. |
Would I have blamed myself for quitting? No, just add it to the list of things that have gone wrong in the past few weeks. Most days have brought new challenges. Why should this slightly-chilly morning be any different? (And why didn't I wear a base layer?) Pile it on.
Ahead were 73 miles and some brutal climbs. French Hill nearly killed me and now this flat road was fatiguing. But what if I managed to hoof it up that beast of a hill from Naples on Flower the Cannondale Synapse, my trusty companion, then five easy miles until pulled pork and a bottle of wine?
If I could finish this ride, it would mean that all the crap life has put me through these past few weeks would not win. If I could ride 100 miles, I could definitely wake up Monday morning, bang out a few cover letters, and move forward.








