Mondays always have been and always will be rest days. In college we never had soccer practice on Mondays. When I was in my crazy distance runner phase, Monday was either nothing or, at most, a 2-mile jog. And now that I'm doing this cycling thing, Monday is a day for catching up on homework (yeah, right), going to yoga, and generally putzing around. I didn't even race this weekend, but I still took my Monday rest day. The plan was to go to the local Pacific Grove Farmer's Market and take pics of the fascinating and usually eclectic crowds of a central Cali farmer's market. So I shuffled le ol' Stumpjumper out of the bike pile, put on my Chucks, rolled up my pant legs, and off I went.
Except I forgot that I live in a rather white, upper-middle class enclave of Lexus-driving upper-middle aged women. Pacgrovians don't make for very interesting pictures. But I had my camera and the light was starting to get good, so I decided to pedal around PG and see what I could find. Like trees in the golf course that I ride by every single day but never really notice.
We have a lot of benches in PG. Maybe its because we have so many active old people. They need places to sit every once in awhile. I don't mind though, its nice to watch the waves roll in. Or out. I never really understand what waves are doing.
And the clouds change colors.
And the pelicans fly by.
Then I rolled over to Point Pinos because the sunset looked like it might be nice. Of course I didn't have my tripod, so I had to improvise. I found yet another trusty park bench, leaned the bike against it and some how got the monster long stem and silly old school shifters to perfectly balance my sort of expensive camera (shhh, don't tell Terry). I think it worked out.
Luckily I had my light to get home and only one deer ran in front of me. Oh, and I looove my fabulous new Sheila Moon hat.