Munkirs & I went on our weekly “Brookside Ride” last night.  Feeling a bit risky, we decided to take off with the faster group again.  It went… errrr…. OK.  I think we kept up fairly well, while I admit we were towards the rear of the group.  It was definitely a quicker pace than the group we usually ride with.  We hung with them for about ten miles, then they zigged and we zagged.  The fast group rides a slightly different route than the one we are used to, and we weren’t feeling that adventurous so we stuck to our known path.  One other guy took the turn with us too, making for an interesting last five miles.  Rider #3 was roughly the age of Munkirs and I put together.  That might be a slight exaggeration, but honestly not much.  I thought to myself, “No big deal, he looks pretty fit and he’s made it this far, and we ain’t in a hurry anyway.”  That guy flat rode us into the ground.  He was merciless.  If you slowed down to take a drink or shake your hands out, he was gone;  You’d spend the next five minutes standing, trying to catch back up.  It was evident he wasn’t even trying hard either.  Oh well, another lesson learned.  After the ride we slunk off to the Brooksider and had some cheeseburgers.  He was probably over at Hoopers gloating with his buddies.