I remember riding through fields of lavender in France. That sounds so romantic. My ass was sore. My bicycle in disrepair making that 100 mile day less than comfy. My attitude: pissy. Still, miles of lavender fields.
I remember riding through fields of lavender in France. That sounds so romantic. My ass was sore. My bicycle in disrepair making that 100 mile day less than comfy. My attitude: pissy. Still, miles of lavender fields.