If I'm free and able, I like to ride my bike for about 3 hours on Sunday mornings. It's great training, and a great way to be by yourself and find some escapist zen (or, you know, have a lovely time with friends). I'm usually going north of the city, for no particular reason other than familiarity. A friend went east recently, used the Strava post to call the route goated, and a lone commenter agreed - this loop was the best. What else was I to do than switch things up and see if they were right? Into the Wahoo it goes.

To cut to the chase, they were, the route was incredible. Once you get out of Verona, it's gentle rolling country hills, some crushed limestone trail along a creek (s/o Westmoreland Heritage), and a tour through the shuttered mill towns of the Mon Valley, my personal favorite part of the region to ride through. The roads were mostly low-traffic and didn't require a lot of stopping.

This was, honestly, the best ride I've had in years, perhaps ever. Somewhere about an hour in, the road went flat, I was surrounded by fields, the breeze was blowing. There was a pleasant smell of manure. At this moment, the Holy Spirit of Cycling took over. I was putting down power and my legs were simply working. It was now less of a ride and more of a glide. The whole thing gave me chills. This kept up nonstop until I was back on my block. The morning ended with a smile and a new dragon to chase. It really was perfect.