Whenever I go to the US these days I make sure to come back with a few cases of Cliff bars. I dig these bars, they have again and again saved my life on long rides. In Europe you can get them hardly anywhere, and if you do you're charged three euros each. So for me it makes more sense to import them myself. Which is what I did when I was in Indiana in October. I came home with a dozen Black Cherry Almond and a dozen Carrot Cake bars.
This morning I went through my apartment in search of nothing in particular and, imagine my surprise, found a 24-bar box of old Cliff bars, still shrink-wrapped, hidden behind much crap under a layer of dust. I must have bought them at Costco way back when, but don't dare to ask when exactly. I ripped one open and it smelled ok. These things are pretty much indestructible unless you store them in New Orleans.
So now there were about 50 of them sitting there on my shelf nagging me to go, ride and eat them. Lucky me, this mid-November Sunday was as beautiful as mid-November Sundays can be. Through a layer of clouds that didn't look much like rain, a warm sun was peering every once in a while. Wind was at rest and temperatures safely in the double digits, Celsius scale.
Still, it's all too obvious that not many of the good days are left in the year. Most trees have shed their leaves, littering the bike path on the Isère. Grey dominates the landscape, except for a little white up towards the top of the Belledonne mountains.
Looking back I have to admit that it's been a good year. I have not quite done 4000km, but I've come close. I approached something like good shape this summer for the first time in years. (At least one person can attest to that, though he probably doesn't want to be reminded.) I'm looking forward to next year. More riding, more serious riding, and hopefully many nice stories to share.
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