This was supposed to be a Temecula day at the farmers market and old town. I had to leave on my bike and take four buses to get to Temecula. Anyhow, after the second bus ride, the third bus driver told me my Metrolink ticket was not a valid fare option for their bus. The asshole convinced me I made a mistake and I had to turn back. I decided to explore San Clemente instead, for the first time, before returning home on the Metrolink. Months later, by chance, I confirmed that I was right about the Metrolink fare and the driver was wrong. That said, it all worked out pretty nicely.
I was checking out the men's bodies, comparing them to mine. One young blonde in particular had the kind of sleek rippled abs and broad upper-body muscle tone that I've been gradually achieving.
Near the end of the trip, while I waited for the train at a table, a group of out of breath Asians in cycling gear with road bikes sat nearby with a few pizzas. They bought these pizzas as a reward for having rode all the way down from Fullerton.
My closest ride to that was Orange to Laguna Beach, a shorter distance, but I didn't get pizza or any other food along the way and I was on a hybrid.
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