We have sooooo many photos like this one.
Do you know why?
Because every time we approached another hill...
halfway into the climb...
I hopped off my bike.
Not because I was pooped,
or anything lame like that.
No, I needed to take a photo, of course.
After snapping the pic,
it was just as easy to walk my bike the rest of the way UP the hill which is the sad sight many motorists witnessed that day.
As I fumbled with shifting my gears,
always, always, way too late...
Ren Man tootled along like he was biking through the Pyrenees
in a quest for the yellow jersey.
Any joy of the descent was overshadowed by the realization
that every glorious descent was an ascent in disguise just waiting.
Covered in hills, the tallest spot on Agistri is a little over 800 feet and pine trees make their way all the way to the waters edge in many small hidden coves.
Our final descent led us to this perfect little spot...
where we will visit by boat next time.
One other couple had hiked down and after a few seconds using the universal smile
and a bit of sign language...
were kind enough to snap a photo .
Somehow,
my gear shifting mojo improved
so there are less photos on the way back to town except for those...
worthy of a stop and a quick rest.
Although Hemingway has a point about feeling
the true contours of a country on a bike,
I am not quite ready to see the world like this couple.
How about you?
Happy Thursday.
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