My speedometer stored 39.3 mph max somewhere near that point, downhill along nice S curves that end, alas, in that abrupt left turn at the creek. By glancing across the field inside the corner, hoping for the best, and clipping the yellow line, I can emerge at 20+ mph, but some day that’ll have a bad outcome.
I can’t hold that pace on the flats, of course, but the 22 mile ride came out at 15 mph average and, unlike the guy on the Rail Trail about five miles later, I wasn’t trying to find a more comfortable position on the saddle.
News Flash: when you go Rail Trail dueling, don’t match your knobby-tire mountain bike against a faired Tour Easy, even if the TE driver is the canonical Fat Old Guy with a Beard and the bike carries all manner of racks and packs and accoutrements. Heh!
The Smell of Molten Projects in the Morning 