The license plate on this Model A reads “POPSCAR”. I’d say this car is a 1930 Model A. Since model A’s were only produced from 1927 to 1931, I figure 1930 would be a pretty good guess. Tristan and I rode by this car on our bike ride this morning.

Back on the bike — Day 3: I rode about 13 miles with Tristan this morning, cruising around the disjointed bike trails between Golf Course and Unser, north of Dellyne on the West Side of Albuquerque. My body was very cooperative and I got few complaints until I climbed the road that ascends to the top of escarpment in Boca Negra Canyon. According to my GPS’s topo maps the average grade of the road between the 5210 foot contour and 5300 foot contour is over 10%. One short stretch of the road (85 feet) between the 5250 and 5270 foot contours has a 23.5% grade. Needless to say, the climb was brutal for an old, out-0f-shape cyclist like me, so by the time I finished the .17 mile ascent to the dead end at top of the escarpment, my lungs started complaining as I coughed up phlegm and what seemed like various pieces or broken bronchioles. I continued coughing stuff up as we rode back to Tristan’s and then as I drove home. My lungs never quit griping the whole time. The conversation went something like this:

Lungs: What made you want to drag your fat butt up that hill anyway?

Me: It was there.

Lungs: Just because a hill is at the end of a road doesn’t mean you have to climb it!

Me: I couldn’t resist.

Lungs: You may not have any sense, but you do have free will.

Me: So you say. Besides, it loosened up all the accumulated smoke and other crap that I’m coughing up.

Lungs: You could have killed both of us!

Me: Quit crying all ready. We lived!