I had a decent week, riding 170 miles in six rides. Most of the week consisted of boring and forgettable outings (to call them adventures would be a lie). I get off of work around four p.m. and there's not much daylight left for much riding unless it's the summer solstice and sunset occurs around nine p.m. So, I normally don't make it far from my home on an after-work ride.

Friday was on an off-day for me, so I rode 70 miles over to Illinois in four hours. I ran into Bobby Van Daley of all people. I will not insult his legend by using a nickname, since he has become (in my opinion) a fine...upstanding citizen...and otherwise, a thoroughly boring person. It's what we all strive for in our lives.

My other, somewhat, interesting ride was at Greensfelder. It was Saturday. It was a fairly overcast and wet day. It had already rained some, but I decided to ride off-road anyway. My philosophy about riding off road: you'll never be able to ride in mud, unless you ride in mud. In other words, I don't pay any attention to forecasts or the weather when it comes to riding off-road, since I'm looking to develop the best skills. Dry trails and perfect conditions are for dreamers and idiots. Life is difficult.

I tend to charge right into danger like a complete idiot. Once again, I came out unscathed. The trail was fine. I didn't do any damage or leave a significant trace. The worst parts of the trail were already pretty seriously damaged by equestrians. I did what I could to smooth over all of the hoof-prints left by our horse friends.

As usual, I got lost trying to find my way around the north side of the park. Most of Greensfelder used to be closed to mountain biking. Now everything's open. Thank you, Gorc.