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Oh, Fort Collins, how are you so wild, so full of people, and so incredibly excitable? You are just a small city, but yikes how you pack a punch. You could have taken Chicago down with one swing, and flattened mighty Minneapolis with your eyes closed and hands tied to your legs. That bike parade... ... ...was not even a bike parade; it was a costumed bike mob unleashed in waves and waves (and waves and waves) upon the streets of Old Town. We ourselves got lost in our own wonderment and decided instead to get an Americano at the Bean Cycle to get our senses back before returning to the New Belgium Brewing Field Test Site of Unfathomable Dimensions, where we opened up the cart yet again to cheers from the home crowd. You were there, and your cousins were there, and their parents (your uncles and aunts, and their grandparents and their childrens' children) were there, so you know what we mean when we say that that was a grand showing. And then you came by the Wolverine Farm Publishing device tucked nicely in the trees to tell us that you can't believe this, and that you still really like our publications after all these years of production here in Fort Collins, and that you had a question about your subscription, which we sent along to the appropriate entities in the office, we promise. In the end, we were tired from your jubilation, but thankful nonetheless for your encouragement, your dedication, and your support of the little guy; the two men in ties and hats in the grove off to the side who keep on pedaling the great news of bikes and literature and farming to the good people of the world. Amen.
Next stop- Denver, Colorado!
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