We got a few more inches of snow. This morning my commute was quite interesting; many schools and businesses were closed today. There were an inch or two of fresh snow on the roads, and more snow coming down hard. My cassette and rear derailleur got clogged with snow over the course of my ride to work.

However, I had an absolute blast.

The Beast handled the snow well, I like the feeling of snow on my face, the way it blankets everything … I really just enjoy riding in this stuff. By the time I arrived at work, I had a silly grin on my face.

My ride home was more or less the same, but more intense.  It was colder, there was more snow on the ground, it was snowing harder, and it was VERY windy. It was snowing sideways!

Wind blew the snow off roofs, as you can sort of see below.

Fortunately, it had been warm enough that the main roads had little to no snow on them. State Road 45 was clear completely. Mt. Gilead, a side road, had some snow, but it wasn’t too bad. Still, I was riding the Trucker, with slick tires, so I had to be extra careful.  Interestingly enough, the hills were the *easiest* part, as they had large amounts of sand and salt on them. The flat sections were largely untreated, and as such has some snow and ice.

In the first few shots, you can see the progression of the road conditions, going away from town.

Here you can see that I’m enjoying myself. It felt great to ride the Trucker after spending so much time commuting on The Beast.

More importantly, the scenery was tremendous. I’ve ridden through this area dozens of times before, but it’s never looked like this.

You can see how thick the sand is, on this steep, winding downhill.

I made my way over to Bethel Lane, another back road … and the road conditions were OK at first, but quickly deteriorated. Icy snow and snowy ice made for very little traction. I was impressed at how well my slick tires handled these conditions, especially at one point when I stopped and put a foot down, only to have it nearly slide right out from under me.

At one point, my rear tire suddenly slid sideways. I recovered without falling, but it was nerve-wracking. I just had to go very slowly for a few miles.

I stopped to take a break for a minute and realized icicles were accumulating on my fenders. I had to break the ice off the front fender, as it was starting to rub the tire.

I was worried about the hill that I would have to ride down to get to Lake Griffy. The road there was in slightly better shape than Bethel Lane had been, but not by a whole lot. Once I reached the bottom of the hill, the road was clear and I rode across the causeway. The lake was frozen and a lone fisherman was out on the ice.

The road up the hill on the other side of the lake, back toward town, was clear and easy riding. Well, easy except the fact that it’s a big hill.

Within a few minutes, I was back in town. It’s a bit jarring to turn the corner after riding past a lake and through a forest, and suddenly see one of the busiest roads in town. That’s one thing I love about Bloomington, though, you don’t have to go far to get to what is essentially the middle of nowhere.

From there, I rode home, basically following my commute route. Some kind soul had again plowed the bike path. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a vast improvement over what it’s like when left alone. Whoever is responsible for this: thank you!

All in all, a great ride. Just a bit over 18 miles, but it felt like more, given the conditions.

I’ll take snow over this, any day. There’s just no way to stay warm when you are that wet. And no way to stay dry when it’s pouring that hard. And no way to see, when your glasses are covered in raindrops, and fogging up. Rain drops pelted my face, stinging, until the numbness set in. In hindsight, I should’ve had another layer or two of clothing.

So, it wasn’t exactly a glorious day for commuting. These things happen, but I made it anyway.

Tomorrow looks to be interesting as well, but with snow, rather than rain, and 50 mph winds. Whatever the conditions are where you’re riding … be careful out there!

As soon as I got outside, I noticed it was drizzling. I hadn’t counted on rain, but I was dressed warmly enough that I wasn’t too worried.

I rolled away from town, heading for some back roads. I got on Mount Gilead Road and the rain picked up slightly. It wasn’t raining hard, but the roads were wet enough to be rather slick. I rode my brakes down a big hill, and at one point I felt my rear tire slipping a bit. This is the second time this has happened; I think it’s time to get a new tire.

I reached the bottom of the hill and turned onto another road. I stopped by a creek to turn on my headlamp and take a few photos. I wasn’t sure if they’d turn out, as my point & shoot camera does not do too well in low light, but the gamble paid off. Actually, if anything, the photos look too bright.

I cruised for a few flat miles, seeing a few deer along the way. Eventually, I had to ride on State Road 46. By this time, it was getting quite dark, and the rain had picked up. I was glad I had dressed warmly enough, and glad I wore my wind and rain-resistant cycling vest. I had many lights blinking but I was still nervous about this brief section of highway. It was over in a few minutes, with no problems.

I turned onto Friendship Road for a brief section of gravel, and stopped on a bridge over a creek to snap a few more photos. I’ve taken photos here several times before, but of course it looks different when it’s raining and nearly completely dark. My glasses kept getting covered with rain drops, I would wipe them off frequently, but it didn’t seem to help much.

After a brief section of gravel, I turned onto Lampkins Ridge road for a long climb. By this point it was completely dark, and it started raining even harder. The climb seemed very long in the dark. It was hard to tell I was, or how much longer I had to climb. It didn’t help that a dog chased me; I always hate being chased uphill, and since it was dark, I couldn’t tell if the dog had stopped chasing or not.

I made my way back toward town, soon reaching Smith Road. From this point it was only a couple of easy miles home.

This was a surprisingly fun ride, given that it was cold, windy, raining, and dark. I loved it!

Panoramic view to the north

View to the south

The Delaware Water Gap is visible in the distance

This hike was also a gear test for my new GPS. I had one previously, but at some point it stopped working, and it never worked very well on my bicycle. The new GPS, a Garmin eTrex Venture, worked incredibly well. It gets a much stronger signal and seems to be more accurate than my old GPS. This will allow me to do some cool things like geotagging my photos, and posting maps of our activities. For example, see this hike on motionbased.com, or this interactive Google map:

View Larger Map

I have a lot to learn about that stuff, but I think it will make for some interesting ways of presenting photos combined with maps. Another fun way to look at it is in Google Earth. Here’s an example.

Google Earth view

Since this hike starts at the top of the mountain, there’s nowhere to go but down. It started with a smooth, gradual hike down the side of the mountain, and once we got away from the mountaintop and into the woods, we weren’t as exposed to the wind. Eventually we warmed up from the physical activity, but for the first 15 minutes or so we were quite cold.

Easy hiking through birch trees

You can see how cold Sarah felt

Snowy moss

Me

Sky

The trail got perpetually rockier as we hiked. After a while, we reached the edge of a cliff, which the trail followed, quite close to the edge. This afforded us some great views of Tannersville below us in a large valley, with the Delaware Water Gap and New Jersey in the distance.

Rocky trail

Panoramic view — worth viewing large

Unidentified building

Big rocks, part of the trail

Delaware Water Gap

Sarah

Precipitous trail

The trail turned back away from the edge, and now it was time for some climbing. The rock-to-trail quotient increased further. It was slow going, but we were having a lot of fun. The sun was getting low in the sky, the trees throwing long shadows, and we enjoyed the quiet and beautiful hike back up the mountain.

Hiking into the sun

The trail climbed this rock wall. If you look closely you can see an orange blaze on a rock.

More rocks

We reached the connector trail that went back to the car, but we hadn’t had enough. We looked at the map and figured out a way to extend our hike by about another mile. It looked like it would be mostly flat, but there was still significant climbing ahead of us. In a way this was preferable as the more we climbed, the warmer we felt. And as the sun followed its downward trajectory the sky took on new hues.

Climbing

Looking back at Sarah, and the elevation we’d gained

We reached a power line right-of-way, and peering down we had a great view of the valley below us to the south. There was a small lake that appears to have been Mountain Spring Lake, and another, Trout Lake, behind it, and the whole scene was illuminated by nearly-sidewise rays of sunlight. I fought my way through a bush to get a good shot.

Looking toward Mountain Spring Lake

A short while later I discovered that my efforts to find this clear view were not necessary. We found a vista, complete with a rock on which to sit, or stand. I stood atop this rock and gazed down on the land below, the lakes, the Delaware Water Gap in the distance, and who knows what, beyond that. I watched as the clouds caught the sunlight and refracted it erratically. I took a deep breath, drinking in this crisp mountain air, and held my wife close to me. It doesn’t get any better than this, peering out over the land in our new home, with my beautiful wife. When we lived in Indiana, we grew to feel a sense of ownership of the land. We were familiar with every twist and turn of many roads, the topography of the land, and many of the sights and sounds. I knew, standing here, that soon we’d feel the same way about this place. But more importantly, that we would discover this new land together.

Taking in the view

Panoramic image of the view (view large)

An even better view, if you ask me

We had a little hiking left, but we were almost back. It wasn’t the longest hike we’ve done, or easiest, or the most challenging, but it was quite beautiful, and even more memorable.

Sunlight

Solitary tree

Back in the parking lot; one last look to the north before heading out

Sarah again. If she ever runs for office, maybe she can use this shot.

The forecast called for some possible drizzle, and as we ate lunch in the valley before heading to the park, it did rain a bit. But once we started hiking, rather than rain, a few flurries were falling. It was chilly and quite windy, with gusts hitting 30+ mph. The hike started by following the Fireline Trail, which we’ve hiked part of before.

Fireline Trail

After a short time on that very wide trail, we turned onto the Skyline Trail, which is much narrower. We immediately started seeing some interesting plants that I would like to identify. If anyone knows what these are, please let me know. I have a wildflower book that’d probably tell me, but it’s still packed somewhere. I noticed when my hiking staff accidentally hit one of the plants that a cloud of white dust emanated from the plant. I’m assuming this was some kind of pollen.

Unidentified plant

The trail was moderately rocky for a while, but it was clear that for this trail, they had at least attempted to clear a path for walking (unlike Saturday’s hike on the Pinchot Trail). Many rocks were cleared to the sides.

Rocks line the trail

One humorous rock

The trail was generally well-marked, which was essential since it crossed other trails at several points. However, one sign had us a bit puzzled and looking at our map and compass.

Not the most helpful sign

Creek

Winding trail

We had been hiking across a ridge, and the trail descended a bit before turning to follow the curvature of the land, and climbing for a while. We got glimpses of neighboring mountains through the trees.

Sarah

Looking through the trees

We climbed higher, and inched closer to the edge of the mountain. The whooshing sound of the Lehigh River rapids below us was constant. The wind blew in strong gusts and now we were exposed. We were glad the wind was blowing us toward the mountain, rather than toward the gorge. At several points we could clearly see the Lehigh Gorge Trail, where I rode my bicycle just a few weeks ago.

Getting closer to the edge

Looking toward the gorge. You can see the Lehigh Gorge Trail, and the river

Sarah by the gorge, looking “gorge-ous,” I must say.

Me.

Mistakes could be costly

Another view of the gorge

Sarah again

Eventually, the trail rejoined the Fireline Trail, and we had another view we saw before. The pine trees sure stick out, now that they’re the only thing green.

Lehigh Gorge

We immensely enjoyed the Skyline Trail. It’s not too difficult, but excessively easy, either. It covers a variety of terrain, and it offers some fantasic views of the Lehigh Gorge.

After our hike, we drove to the Boulder Field. It’s a longer drive than I expected on some gravel roads. Just as we arrived, so did some other people, and they immediately walked out onto the rocks, severely limiting our photo potential. Oh well.

Sign explaining the Boulder Field

Boulder field

Looking at the boulder field

Sarah

It was another fun outing. Hickory Run State Park has a surprising number of trails (23, I believe), with a total length of 45 miles. We hope to hike all of them, eventually.

There was something about the light during this ride that was truly wonderful. Warm and golden, rays of light increasingly radiated from behind hills and trees, drops working their way through the canopy and splashing on the pavement below. And it was windy, and cooler outside than it has been for a while (in the 70s), so the sunlight felt good, rather than overheating me. This was one of those rides where everything just looks better, and feels better.

The wind was just strong enough to give me a boost when at my back, but not strong enough that riding into it was a struggle. I rode out 45 to Mount Gilead and enjoyed a swift descent into the valley. The road surface here just keeps getting rougher, and there is still some sand at the bottom of the hill, forcing me to keep my speed in check.

Barn on Mount Gilead

Rough road

I climbed out of the valley. I felt strong, and climbed in a higher gear than usual. I spun up the hill with relative ease, compared to how much I sometimes struggle with it. I am finally starting to feel like I’m getting back in shape after really losing a lot of ground this winter.

Part of the climb

I saw some weird shadows at the top and rode by some more farms, where the corn is really taking off (finally).

Cool shadows

Corn. We have lots and lots of this.

After riding Mount Gilead, I headed over and took Tunnel Road down to Shilo. Shilo always has an extremely rough surface, but it’s just getting worse. Somehow, for me, this makes it more fun. It’s great fun darting downhill and around a sharp turn, dodging potholes and other anomalies in the process. It requires more thought and more finesse than most roads.

Shilo Road
My ride on Shilo was intense, but uneventful. Even the dog that usually chases me was nowhere to be seen. There was no flooding on any of the roads I rode on, it seems to have largely subsided. Sometimes it’s hard to predict how long some of these areas will remain flooded, and I often forget that the water seeps away and evaporates much more quickly in the summer. Some fields remained flooded.

The always-scenic landfill

Anderson Road

Windblown grass and flooded fields

The climb up old 37 is always a long one, but once again I felt strong and kept my speed a bit higher than usual. It felt great.

Old 37

The light just got better as I rode on, taking Bethel Lane back over to 45.

Field, sun, trees, clouds

Long grass

This was a great summery ride, without being too hot. I am loving these long days. Being able to easily fit in a 26-mile ride after work and still having plenty of light is fantastic. I really could have ridden further, but we had other things to do, and I was hungry. I think I could probably fit in 35 miles before dark … maybe one of these days, I’ll try to find out.

I had picked up my commuting bike from the bike shop on Friday. I had it in for a tune-up, and for them to fix the squeaky/stiff steering. Unfortunately, the guy who worked on it told me one of my rear brake pieces had seized, and in his attempts to remove it, the brake boss broke off the frame. He was able to put a bolt in it with a large washer as a spacer, which he said he thought would work. At first glance it seemed OK, and it worked fine during the riding Sarah and I did on Saturday. I don’t think this was his fault — if it broke off that easily, I figure it would have broken eventually anyway. I may need to see if I can find someone to weld a new boss onto the frame. Anyone know if this is possible? It’s a steel bike, so I figure there might be some chance this might work, if I can find someone who knows how to do it.

On Sunday I decided to go on an exploration ride through Yellowwood State forest, a ride with both pavement and gravel terrain. The commuter was the best bike for the task, and this would give me a chance for a proper shakedown ride to see if that brake was going to work. I’ve really been enjoying this bike lately. My road bike wants to go fast, and that’s nice sometimes, but on this bike, it’s difficult to be in a hurry, which encourages me to take my time and stop to smell the proverbial roses. I also like that this bike has platform pedals, so I can wear any shoes I want. In fact, I opted for sandals for this ride, which I loved.

I got off to a later start than I had hoped, leaving home around noon. It was around 90 degrees, with a heat index in the mid-90s and pretty decent winds. A lot of roads in the area were flooded due to the 8+ inches of rain we received, in one storm. Some whole towns were flooded — thankfully, we did not get any flooding near our apartment. Many roads were closed due to the flooding. I tried to avoid roads I had read were closed, but I really wasn’t sure if I would encounter flooding during this ride. I assumed I would, at some point, but I wasn’t sure where that was likely to be.

It was hot outside, but I noticed the wind felt great on my feet. I’ll have to do more riding in sandals — it was a huge improvement over my cycling shoes, which are ventilated, but no ventilation can really compete with feeling the air flow freely over your toes. It’s much cooler. I really took my time, hoping to keep myself from overheating or wearing myself out too early in the ride. I knew that the gravel sections would be pretty difficult. I also looked around more than usual as I rode, trying to scope out potential campsites for future S24O trips. It’s fun to look around and consider where you might camp stealthily, as opposed to renting a campsite.

Riding east on 45

Some small rolling hills in farmland

This hill always feels much harder than it looks, for some reason

I rode through New Unionville, then Unionville, and kept riding. I stopped to take a couple of photos, and a guy rolled up in his car and asked if I had plenty of water. I said “yes,” pointing to my two water bottles in cages, and one more strapped to the rear rack, but he gave me a stern look and said, “I mean a LOT of water.” “I’m fine,” I said. Oddly enough, the guy turned around and drove the other way. I appreciate his concern, but I always take a lot of water, especially when it’s so hot outside.

One advantage of the route I’d chosen was that once I started to approach the state forest, there was quite a bit of shade. This sure was a welcome respite from the heat of the sun.

Shady section of 45

I soon reached Lanam Ridge Road, which would take me to the gravel roads I’d ride through the state forest proper.

Lanam Ridge Road goes up to the right

After a brief stint on Lanam Ridge, I turned onto Yellowwood Lake Road, finally hitting gravel. There was quite a bit of debris on the road, presumably from all the rain we’ve gotten. I think there was water running over the road at some point that left the debris.

Yellowwood Lake Road, with some debris

Shadow-speckled gravel climb

After a while, I saw an extremely steep and eroded gravel road or driveway going up on my right. I stopped to explore, hiking up since it was too rutted and steep to ride.

Steep, eroded driveway

I thought I might find a good potential campsite here, but as I crested the hill, I saw a trailer. I couldn’t tell whether it was inhabited, but I didn’t go too close in case it was. It’s pretty difficult to tell what’s private property and what isn’t, in the state forest areas; it’s a strange and random combination of public and private land.

Trailer at the top of the hill

I went back down the hill and started riding again. For several miles I mostly got to ride downhill. I kept my speed fairly low, though, as my slick tires have limited stopping power on gravel, and there was a fair amount of debris strewn across the road at times. Still, I had a fun, fast, long descent down from the ridge, losing about 250 feet of elevation over the course of about three miles.

The road followed Jackson Creek for a while, which had a lot of water in it. The sound of the rushing water drew me to stop by a waterfall to take a break. I waded into the water, took off my helmet and splashed water on my face. The cool water ran clear and felt incredibly refreshing, and I spent a few minutes cooling off by the waterfall.

Jackson Creek follows Yellowwood Lake Rd.

Waterfall

Another advantage to riding in sandals

My bicycle by the creek

After this break, I pressed on. I encountered a few places with moderate flooding, but so far all the water I encountered was quite shallow and I was able to ride through it.

Water covers the road

My wheel in the mud

More mild flooding

Someone’s driveway

Entering the state forest (I thought I was already there … again, it can be hard to tell)

Small cemetery

There were a few climbs short, but mostly I was still going downhill. I knew riding back would be a lot harder, although I was planning to ride back on a different road, so it was hard to know how different it would be. Regardless, I knew I’d pay for all this relatively easy riding — although it really wasn’t that easy. I rode past trailheads for several horse trails (I really wish they allowed bicycles on them) and stopped to explore some kind of old logging road on foot. I didn’t stray too far from the road, but I think you could pitch a tent in a place like this without anyone finding you.

Stopping by the logging road

Old logging road

More logging road, and a few logs

Before long, I reached Yellowwood Lake, one of my favorite lakes in this area. I stopped near the Jackson Creek trailhead to take a couple of photos of the lake.

Yellowwood Lake

Me, on a small pier jutting out into the lake

I also saw a campground I always forget is there and rode over to explore it. It’s tent camping only, and you can’t park right at your campsite. However there are sites right on the lake, and it’s quite beautiful. If you got there early enough to get one of the better sites, it would be a fantastic place to camp.

View from a campsite

Campsite

I rode on, figuring I’d take a break over by the shelter where Sarah and I will be getting married in September. On my way there I saw two barrels, one on each side of the road, with caution tape on them. The sides of the road had eroded and fallen away.

Trees

Road erosion

World’s largest pothole

The shelter where our wedding will be

Resting by a picnic table

I was going to call Sarah so I could talk to her from this spot that is going to have such significance in our lives, but I couldn’t get a signal on my cell phone. I also wanted to let her know my 2-3-hour estimate for this ride was off. I had already been riding/exploring for two hours, and I was only about halfway done. Whoops.

I hit pavement for a mile or two, and the riding got so much easier. I saw a lot of flooded fields.

Flooded fields, with a really cool split log fence

As I approached Green Valley Road/Dubois Ridge Road (pronounced by the locals as “duh-boys”), I saw that the road was under water. A couple of pickup trucks drove through it, just barely making it through; one was a DNR truck. If I had been driving my car, I almost certainly would not have been able to make it through here.

Flooding

DNR truck driving through the

After the trucks passed, I rode through the water, which was fairly deep but stayed below bottom bracket level. My rear derailleur got submerged, though. I imagine that’s not good for it. After getting past this obstacle, I was on dry land but saw more flooding ahead, and it looked deeper. I looked at the bridge on the road off to the right and saw that the water level was almost exactly even with the top of the bridge, and had obviously been covering it earlier. Normally, the water is several feet lower than the bridge.

Bridge, almost submerged

The old bridge, which still stands right next to the new one, was a lot higher, but it is falling apart

Looking across the bridge — normally there is no water there whatsoever

More flooded fields

The flooding ahead of me — I was taking the road to the left

I decided to try riding through the water here, even though it looked a bit deeper. It got almost up to my bottom bracket, so I got off the bike and carried it through the water. The water came about up to my knees. Once again, I was really glad to have the sandals, rather than soaking my cycling shoes.

I waded through this part, then had quite a climb ahead
Once on dry land again, I started climbing up Dubois Ridge Road. There was quite a bit of climbing ahead of me, but I took my time and spun up the hill in a low gear. I stopped a guy headed the other way in a pickup to let him know about the flooding ahead. A couple other vehicles went by, but I wasn’t able to get their attention. I hope they didn’t end up stuck in the water. At some point, my rear brake, the one that the shop had done the hack fix on, started making weird noises, and I noticed it wasn’t hitting the rim at the correct angle. The brake arm felt a bit loose. It also lost a lot of stopping power, but since I was going uphill it really wasn’t a problem. I saw a lot more trailheads, logging roads and some potential campsites along Dubois Ridge Road.

Long, gradual gravel road climb

More climbing

I had just figured that I must be almost back to Lanam Ridge Road (and pavement) when I heard a loud BANG!!! sound. Dismayed, I knew it must have been my rear tire. I stopped and looked and sure enough, there was a big tear in the sidewall, obviously caused by the brake pad rubbing the tire. I surmised that there was no way I could patch this hole and after some contemplation, I decided I needed to call Sarah to come pick me up. I carry patch kits and extra tubes, but not extra tires. My cell phone had no signal, so I hiked until I got a signal, which thankfully was probably only about half a mile. I told her how to get to where I was and that I would meet her on Lanam Ridge Road or 45, however far I could make it on foot by the time she arrived. I hiked maybe another half mile, mostly uphill, before I hit Lanam Ridge Road.

Hiking uphill with my bike 

Interesting gate on Dubois Ridge Road

Torn sidewall

Reaching Lanam Ridge

Interesting hillside

Pushing my bike. Note that my GPS, which had not worked the whole trip, now started working.

I walked along Lanam Ridge for a while, which has rolling hills. After a while, Sarah showed up to save the day and she sure was a sight for sore eyes. Smart girl that she is, she brought a bunch of food, water, and Powerade. I considered it fortuitous timing that she had just gotten her driver’s license the day before. I was frustrated and a bit sad that my trusty old mountain bike seemed to be on its last legs, but still in a good mood — I had a great ride, and I got to spend the rest of the day with Sarah. What a day!

Bike update: last night I took the bike back to the shop and they tried another possible fix for the brake, but if this doesn’t work basically there’s nothing that can be done, unless I can find someone to braze on a new brake boss, and am willing to pay for that. I don’t know how much it’d cost, but I bet it wouldn’t be cheap. I did ride the bike to work today, and it was fine, but it may be relegated to around town rides for the time being, and I’ll probably be forced to retire this bike soon. Sad, as I’ve had it for since the mid-90s.

For now, I’ll note that we’ve had some insane storms the past couple of days. Skies so dark I thought it was night time, in the middle of the day. High winds, lots of thunder and lightning … actually very exciting stuff, although it has kept me off the bike. Yesterday Sarah and I heard a low rumbling and felt the apartment shaking. Since we live near the train tracks, we though it was a train, but we didn’t see one. We got to thinking it might be a tornado, but I haven’t heard of one hitting in this area, so I don’t think it was that.

My commuting bike is in the  shop so they can hopefully fix the sticky steering, and give it a good tune-up. I took it in last weekend, and they say it won’t be done until next Monday. Obviously, they’re doing great business at that shop. I bet a different shop would’ve had a faster turn-around time, but I prefer this shop. So I rode my road bike to work today, and while I appreciated its efficiency, it was a little sketchy riding through debris from the storms — mostly downed braches and sand/rock sediment left by flooding. In fact, I’ve been feeling a little down on my road bike in general. It did OK for my camping trip, but I’m not sure how many more trips like that it can handle.

I’m really thinking about a Long Haul Trucker or something similar. Something more solid, with lower gearing, better suited for mixed terrain and carrying heavy loads, sounds very appealing. I may change my mind once I get to do a good fast road ride again, though, as it’s been a while now since I did one of those. And even if I do get a different bike, it won’t be for a while, but it’s definitely on my mind.