This morning we rode our bikes to a breakfast joint in Encinitas called Honey’s.
So I know how to ride a bike; I might have grown up backwards in Alaska but not that backwards. But we today we rode on actual roads right next to cars, like legit bike riding. I petitioned hard to ride on the sidewalks but lost that battle.
Jim said that Carlsbad and Encinitas are very bike friendly towns, but I was still so nervous riding with cars zooming right beside me that I sweated more from nerves than actual physical exertion.
But we made it the 4.6 miles to the restaurant with minimal tinkle in my pants and only a few pit stains. sexy, yes.
Honey’s was really busy but worth the wait – big portions of diner-style food: I had the Greek omelet with potatoes and homemade bread. And lots of coffee.
And then it was time for the trip back; the way back wasn’t as bad although the whole bike lane in between the road and turning lane was a little freaky for me. Obviously I’m at a Lance Armstrong-level of expertise…
The whole trip was 9.3 miles and took us 49 minutes total, not a bad way to burn off breakfast.
Are you a bike rider?
Like a beach cruiser with wicker basket rider, a training wheels and streamers coming out of the handles rider or a spandexed out Lance Armstrong rider?