The Captain’s Log

Tattoo Dave and I rode from my house to Northampton, MA on Sunday. I thought it was a 50-mile ride, but it’s closer to 55ish. It was father’s day and I was asserting my agenda on everybody, so Carlotta and the kids drove down in the van after tennis and we all had lunch at Friendly’s.

When I was courting Carlotta, she was living in Northampton. So I have fond feelings for the place. I used to drive up from Pennsylvania (where I had just started working for Bicycling magazine) on weekends. Carlotta worked all day Saturday, so I would climb on my bike and ride up to visit the guys at West Hill Shop in Putney–a 100 or so mile round-trip. I was training for France’s Paris-Roubaix randonee that year (I’ve got a cobblestone trophy on my bookshelf for my effort–all that work for a friggin’ rock!). I’d get back mid-afternoon, have lunch at the bar Carlotta was tending, take a nap, then be ready to party til the wee hours. Them were days.
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