Wait, that isn't the way to start.
The owner of the picabella adobe home I am staying in for the next two days, as arranged by Airbnb, belongs to a young lady by the name of Ariana. We haven't met as yet because she is an artist doing a show out of town. I am renting one of her bedrooms while in Santa Fe to shoot tomorrow's Grand Fondo.
Assuming that their 30th event takes place, because for the entirely of my stay in this magically historical village it has rotated between rain, hail and snow. Oh and we had some lightning last night just for the last remaining comparative to the many battles fought here.
It was a rough night in Ari's bed despite its comfort. I was battling some interesting new neuro-chestular (I just made that up - let's see if we can sneak it past the spellchecker police) issues, a SOS text at 0315, the aforementioned lightening with its bombastic counterpart and some strange comings and goings on the street. So I didn't sleep very well, nor very long.
The last intel from the Starbucks about a mile away (Ari's wifi is too weak for my ancient air-port) said there might be sun breaks early, so I was up 'n at 'em by 0600.
The sun breaks lasted about as long as I can hold 500 watts on the CompuTrainer.
I did manage some death-defying power slides racing back down Hyde Park where I was almost trapped by a blizzard at 8K.
I am back now at Ari's recharging batts and waiting for my 1500 meeting with the RD.
I might try a nap.
You know where.
No comments:
Post a Comment