Sunday! Sunday! Sunday! Cyclocross and Funday!

 I started the day with Mo' Money, Mo Money, Mo Money!

Not true.  I started the day by looking out at the dreary day wondering if I should actually go race the cross race at Pierre Marquette.  I mustered the courage and drove all the way the hell up the River Road.  The course wasn't a sloppy mess, so that was good, though there were plenty of mud holes by the time we finished our race. But the wind was whipping at 20+ and the course was flat as a pancake.  Bad for this dude.  I managed another win in the 50+ and tried my best to take the overall but I lost contact with two younger dudes and that was that.

Naturally, the sun came out and the sky turned blue and it was a brilliant drive home.  Ah, it was glorious.

Glorious enough to stop at the only fast food joint on the main drag in Alton.  Love those Chicken Littles.

While I was grubbing down the KFC, I noticed there were some old codgers gathering with their first generation Thunderbirds.

 There were two red, one white, and one black.  They looked quite good.

I hate these things.  I'm trying to figure out one that keeps 'forgetting' it's programmed openers. Hopefully I have it solved this time but history says that I do not.

What I'm not doing tonight is cleaning my muddy bike. That will have to come another day, when energy is in greater supply.