After a ninety mile ride into Davidson the day before, and with an imminent journey up into the Smokey Mountains, I had no desire to push myself on my ride into Charlotte, North Carolina. Looking at my maps, I guessed that I had little more than thirty miles to ride, although I was not entirely confident in my distance gauging since I had so drastically underestimated my trip the day before. I had spent a good portion of the morning resting, reading “Sports Illustrated,” acquainting myself with my hosts’ dog and icing my knees before my ride. Around noon I finally got out the door and enjoyed the freedom of a marked bike lane for the first few miles of my trip. When my host Fuji had left for work in the morning, he had pulled
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