The dog and I went for a ride on Mt Burdell again today, putting in two hours on the last day of the year, and seeing down the sun on 2013. Again, great dogs, great cyclists, great hikers. A shibe mix, an old dog named Duke, and someone thought Chick was, “Two? Three?” She’ll be 8 next month.
We spooked a murder of turkey vultures from their roosts on a cattle trough. This is them, wheeling around until we were gone.
That’s what I look like. I never smile.
Here’s the trail, carved 18″ through the topsoil. Mountain bikes are pretty low-impact, compared to a D8 Cat.