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Sometimes I feel like Al Gore reminding us he's an environmentalist when I talk about being a triathlete.
Though my friends may smile and nod their heads, I imagine they must be thinking to themselves, "Oh, boy. Here we go again."
Well, here we go again.
My latest bike ride reminded me of conversations I've had with other triathletes and bikers who occasionally ask me, "Isn't Highland County the worst at being biker friendly?"
I am quick to respond by telling them that I just don't see it that way.
For example, the first time I rode on U.S. 50 out of Hillsboro a couple years ago, a Ford F-150 slowed down to 35 mph as it passed me.
I suddenly noticed a shaking fist appear outside of the passenger side window. It was hard to make out the exact words, but I'm pretty sure I heard, "Good luck with yourself, lady!" It was a nice pick-me-up as I struggled in the grueling 90 degree weather.
And just the other day, the woman driving a red Neon yelled out: "Go straight to..."
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