Critical Mass turned 15. Hot, sexy, yet still underage. And, we're off!
Yes, that is a dog in the bag.
Just a little loop down Embarcadero, and back.
Hottie in short shorts from behind. Whee! Enjoying relaxing slow group fun. MUNI train drivers honked, either in appreciation, or to tell cyclists to get out of the way.
Hottie in short shorts from the side. "Take the Bridge!" some shouted. We didn't.
Heading back up Market St. as it got dark. Ahh, that long thin main drag, and all those treacherous train rails.
Cutie on a funny bike as we pass City Hall. The goddess was kind, and fulfilled my wish, to have the entire ride go right to Hayes Valley, only blocks from my home.
I stopped home, ate a banana, gulped a protein shake, changed my shirt, washed my face, and headed off to see Circo Zero's Sol Niger. When I got to Octavia Blvd, the ride had shifted back in the direction I was going.
The show was cool, and dark, and creepy and artistic. At one near silent point, I could hear the TV helicopters fluttering overhead, and knew that the last shreds of the ride were still racing around wreaking havoc.
I felt good.
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