Stopping at the Pastry Peddler in Millbrook is a no-brainer. The food is good, the coffee is always good and the people - Colin and Deanne - are truly good people! But there's a price for stopping and every cyclist who's done it knows what I'm about to say.
The time comes when you stand up to take your mug and your plates back inside and there's a funny sensation from the hips down. It's as if someone has just poured a small amount of wet concrete into your thighs. The caffeine and sugar you've just put away says GO!!! GO QUICKLY!!! But your legs say uggghhhhh!!!
This is compounded by the simple fact that Millbrook is situated at the bottom of a deep valley. No matter how you cut it, you have to ride out up a long steep hill. And so it is that we dragged our fueled up selves up Cty. Rd. 10. The feeling of relief as we each crested the hill was palpable along with the slight fuzz of a sweat cloud that encircled the heads of each rider!
some several dozen slight hummocks and valleys later we passed into the ganaraska forest . . .
here's Dan finding his groove . . . 
Andrea lets her hair fly . . . 
and here are some of the riders enjoying the hush of a sun-warmed forest . . .soon after we left the ganaraska we passed through the sweet little hamlet of welcome . . .
which is within a handful of kilometres of port hope.after roaring through port hope - i love that long hill down into port hope except for the traffic lights at the bottom . . .
Have you ever noticed that in every town where there's a long fast hill there are lights right at the bottom . . . hmmmmmmm . . . anyhow, no stopping at dreamer's for crazy cookies for us . . . nope, on we went along the bike lane placed right next to highway two . . . which is curiously marked for riderless bicycles only . . .
and on into cobourg where i stopped for my annual Ride for Africycle hug with my Mum and then raced off through the lovely streets of Cobourg . . .
on my way to Victoria Park where lunch was being prepared when I arrived. and off we went . . .
next post - Cobourg to Norman Hardie's . . .
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