We were definitely an international group, with two Brits, one Australian, two Hispanics, an Anglo-American (Paddy claims to be more American than most real Americans) and an Australian-Scot (Gregor, looking pretty pleased about Scotland's recent rugby win over Australia).
Off we went, with me questioning the wisdom of my wardrobe selection every time we rode through shade. I warmed up soon enough, until we ran into some pretty thick fog, and stayed in it for a good five miles. Not only did the temperature drop by several degrees, we were also really nervous about traffic and for once observed good lane discipline.
We broke out of the fog just at the turn-off for the gas station where we take a break, and stayed in the sunshine for the rest of the run. With about ten miles to go Alex took the lead and set a cracking pace. I was number two man in the line and velcroed myself to his rear wheel, knowing that if I lost touch I'd never get back on again at that speed. Alex pulled us for a good three miles before peeling off. Soon after that, Gregor flatted and we pulled over to stand around and watch him change out the tube. Mike pointed out that changing a tube was a bit like sex - it's hard to do it well when there are a lot of people watching.
We got rolling again with only a few miles to run. The pace cranked up once more and I decided to let the speedsters have their heads. Gregor was hanging back, too, because he wasn't sure his tube was up to pressure and didn't want to corner too hard for fear of rolling the tire off the wheel. Back at Zube for some photos like this one. Paddy is actually trying to show off his Mules tattoo, not just his impressive biceps.