Jaime and I both have to work tonight (one of the things I most look forward to when I retire is the chance to watch election returns with my wife), so we went on a long ride in the mountains this morning, up old Route 66 through Tijeras canyon. It was dry and crisp - we saw icicles on the plants at a couple of houses where they'd run the sprinklers overnight - perfect winter riding weather. The snow line was high and east, and the air had a sparkle. We were off-season lollygagging, which was good because I've clearly "lost some form," as they say. It's not exactly quiet in the canyon, because you're never far from the freeway, but you're not on it, so it always seems quiet and peaceful anyway up there. It's a favorite ride. The piñon and the cholla - spindly cactus that look like motionless arms and legs all akimbo - look so patient. They are so patient.