Although I’ve been called it many times, I’ve yet to resign myself to “hippy” status. Can you be earthy, laid-back, walk around a farmers market barefoot and still avoid the label affixed to the crunchy, dreadlocked and stoned? Fraid not. Not that there’s anything wrong with that:
But I digress. Saturday a.m. was cloudy and cool. Goal for the day was to make it to the Hope St. Farmers Market (just down the street from the opening scene 0:20) without a flat tire, grab some good grub and ride back with a faster time (or a negative split in the triathlon vernacular). Success! Both ways were slowed down by the Gaspee Day Parade but the ride back was about 10% faster and included all out efforts up a couple nice hills. As far as the groceries; the eggs didn’t break, the tomatoes didn’t bruise and the sausage didn’t thaw. Right on!
