With the clouds not leaving and the number of riders down to just Los Tres Originales, there was a magnetic pull to yet again forego the planned “Reverse River Loop.” At the front door of the Kennedy School our stalwart souls refused to give in to the magnet and set out to conquer the loop. What a fortuitous choice. The sun broke through just as we were riding up the delta, the airport and arriving planes soaked in orange sunset glow. Even though it doesn’t look like 5 miles to the 205 bridge, it certainly is. Plenty of huffing back up off the river with two valiant crossings your gift for the effort. Bombing down through the gateway hollow, chasing the light rail. Still light out as we three finally finish our 1 hour and 45 minutes in the saddle on the Rumpus porch. The river reseen, the ride reversed, the riders revived. Kong awaits and the Brunette looms. Bold pronouncements and predictions of the preshow sort of play out. Walmartin does plenty of big boxing, Great Scott is indeed great, and Scrap Heap grouchily cuts the chain and pretends. However, No Wind is more like a Zulu Zephyr and B*****heart shows little of the fool. The real star of the night is the Brunette. Hangers galore, a kielbasa, and plenty of scoring once again prove that new bleach is no match for the old amber. This table simply brings out the best in all of us. Towel spin on break, so we meet Michelle. Tournament on First Tuesdays? After throwing my Mom and Pop dreams into the big box one last time, I scream home under the midnight wire. 27+ miles in the saddle makes Papa a tired boy.