[look 171]

When I bought the place, I was young and still riding a lot, 300 miles weekly. The streets are very narrow where only car can go by. Its hilly, a mile up from the bottom. After a long day killing myself on the saddle, I have to grind up and over to my home. At the steepest part of the climb, about 15%, this old brown dog always hung out on the middle of the street near a flat, wider spot. It never fails, when he sees me, he wants to eat me. I would come up, dead tired, and here he comes, drooling barking after me. I always managed to go around him and sprint like hell up the steep part of the hill. If I am hurting, he must be too, right? He's all bark, no fight. Thankfully, he's old and always gave up a little before half way at the exact location each and every time. That dog got me in great shape btw.