Daughter's bike has been dropped off at our house, with a request that I find a spot in the garage for it. I guess this means riding season is about over, and coupled with the evening weather report, she's got a point.
Shame, really, because my new Mustang seat just arrived the other day, and friend wife says she's more comfortable than ever before.
C'est la vie.
Now, where did I leave that jug of gasoline preservative?
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