A Pilgrimage.

This weekend, Barry and I will point his wife's highly fuel-efficient Honda to the north and in the direction of The Empire State.  We hatched the idea of a Labor-Day-weekend-whirlwind-trip to NY following a long ride several weeks ago.  All of my incessant talking about the Tour of the Battenkill finally got to him, and he realized that the only cure for his new fever was to go there himself.  Of course, I've got to go along...for supervision.

Once north of the Mason-Dixon, we'll park in NYC overnight Friday ($$$) and crash at my very hospitable sis-in-law's Manhattan apartment.  Granted, I don't relish the thought of driving into NYC on a Friday afternoon, but it's going to happen.  Saturday will find us cruising the roads of the race course, taking pics, relishing the forecasted New England weather (stay away Hurricane Earl), and mashing pedals on rather large clincher tires.  We're camping overnight Saturday along the Battenkill river, then going out for some more miles Sunday once we rustle ourselves from our tents. 

It's okay to be jealous.  It's hard to contain my excitement right now, too.  It's also okay to wonder if this fever will eventually consume me and possibly Barry as well.  Time will tell.

Check back for updates next weekend.  Gonna be hard to sleep 'till then.