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Seven days into the trip, my skin is gross, I'm bloated from all the sports drinks and I've worn nothing but grubby Lycra for a week - but I've also fallen head over heels in love with it all and can't imagine returning to a routine that doesn't start with a 6:30am wake-up call, involve seven hours on a bike and end with a beer and hobbly toddle to bed.
Now I go shaking over hobbly places, now shoot over a bridge of ice only a foot wide between the water and the shore at a bend,--Hubbard Bath,--always so at first there.