Closed Sunday's.

  I'm closed Sundays.
  I don't answer the phone.
  I don't work on bikes.
  I try my best to not "talk bikes"... on Sundays.
  It's a "me time" sort of deal... the selfish bastard that I am..... on Sundays.
  It's days like this that I live for.
  Six days a week... I work.
  Sunday's.... I ride!

  We're 40 miles into this particular ride, on this particular Sunday. The Aaron's (Aaron and Erin) have gone their separate ways an hour ago. Smart folks... the Erin's. Already had enough. Places to be. People to see. Not me. It's Sunday. I'm closed. This is my day.... selfish bastard that I am. My remaining partner, Nate, is -of course- "up" for on more section of trail.
   The sky's have grown dark and for the past 1/2 hour we've been riding in the pitter patter of manageable and welcome rain drops. Just enough to keep things interesting. Eventually the rain starts to fall beyond the scope of "neat" and "nostalgic" as we drop into a random neighborhood.
   It's here that we find ourselves taking cover from the storm under the "available" deck of an uninhabited strangers house. We pass the time with talk of work, life and day to day "this and that". We also realize that this very well could be one of the best decisions that we've made all day as the pouring rain turns the street into a temporary river.
   Eventually, the storm clouds pass.
   Eventually the rain subsides.
   Conversation turns quiet.
   Packs back on.
   The journey continues.
   Yep.... Sundays.
    I love Sundays.