Yesterday there was a BHP team ride at Terry Hershey. The group consisted of Dave the Driller, Pat the Navigator, Bernardo from Accounting and me, the whole being lead fearlessly by our fearless leaderene Jennifer, who brought her daughter too. We got rolling to the strains of Dire Straits, the soundtrack being supplied by Pat who has his iPod rigged up on his bike with speakers. The group broke up as we proceeded, but regrouped after about six miles when Pat had a puncture in his rear tyre. A new tube was installed, charged with CO2 (wow - those things are the business) and off we went. Once we cleared Terry Hershey and the foot traffic died down, Dave began to lead the charge at a pretty hot pace. I jumped on his wheel and kept with him, at a much higher pace than I usually like, but I hung in there. We got to the north end of George Bush park and decided to wait for Pat (Jennifer and daughter had done their miles and were headed for home). When he didn't appear we rode back and found him repairing another puncture in his rear wheel. We got going again but only made one mile before Pat had another rear wheel flat. He was out of tubes so I gave him mine. This time we went over his wheel with a fine-tooth comb but didn't find any sharp objects. Onwards into the park and Dave set a blistering pace again. We turned around at Fry road and tried to keep in a group as much as possible, in case of further flats, but the third tube made it all the way back. On this leg the soundtrack featured Jimmy Buffet. I bailed out at Wilcrest and headed home feeling pretty tired. This morning I'm a bit stiff, but it was a good ride.
And whatever happened to Bernardo?