Happy As Pigs In Sh*t

The ride deserves to be recorded.

The ride happened in mid-April 2016. (Yes, I know. I'm not a very good bike blogger.)

The ride included Stewart Moore, Brian Reagan, and myself. It was a bit of a birthday ride, as I recall. I was about to turn 55.

The ride started with Brian and I cycling from Prague 6, north along the Vltava River, to meet Stewart at the ferry crossing near Roztoky. From there, we rode along the path that hugs the river on its eastern side, and from which two of our comrades have plunged into the drink -- one with only his pride hurt, the other suffering fractured ribs and a broken collarbone, if I remember correctly. (Read more about that adventure here.)

The ride was a particularly boozy one. Perhaps because it was my birthday. Perhaps because we were just so pleased to be out on the bikes in such a glorious setting. Perhaps it was the company. Or perhaps it all felt just so right.

The ride took us up to Kralupy nad Vltavou and then to Marina Vltava, a restaurant on the river's western edge, where we had a few pints, then a bit farther north, and then across the river on the iron bridge, and then we decided to go for Baroque with a little side trip over to the gorgeous Veltrusy Chateau, where we enjoyed a few more pints at the ridiculously picturesque pub behind the chateau, and then from there back down the eastern shore, stopping for a few more pints at a cool little nondescript pub that Stewart had scoped out on a previous ride and which, on this day, featured some local musicians having a grand old time playing country and bluegrass tunes. (There's a video below.)

The musicians were inside (below). We drank outside (above).

The ride then took us back to Kralupy, where we, because of our relaxed state and the waning daylight hours, decided to take the train back to Roztoky and Bubenec. They run once an hour or so, so we raced to the station, bought our tickets, and hightailed it to the platform. Only to see the train we wanted already in motion. We'd missed it, literally by seconds.

The ride was over, but the drinking was not. Since we had an hour to kill, we passed the time in the grungy, smoky train station pub. We had a few more pints and some shots of whiskey and shot the shit and also missed our next train. I seem to remember that Brian brought along three cans of pivo for the train ride. And somehow, some way, we all made it home.

Yes, the ride deserved to be recorded.

Length of ride: Don't remember
Average speed: Can't recall
Maximum speed: Not very fast
Pivo Index: Off the charts
Distance ridden so far in 2016: Who's counting?

Some pigs along the way.

Some sort of massive gear on display along the river at Kralupy.


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