Metin2 ride6/12/2023 ![]() ![]() For this reason a horse is what you need. ![]() But the intersection satellite image leaves me with a lot of questions.In Metin2 is very important to be fast for travels (you can complete faster a time mission, you can reach faster any place you want etc). That's speculation and I hope we get more info. Metin could have been merging onto the road and the driver could have been too close on the right and hit him, saying Metin ran the sign. The road the car would have been on is narrow too. And because there's a kind of sweeping entrance on the right hand, the driver might have said he ran the stop sign when in fact he was moving far enough forward to see oncoming traffic. If the satellite photo is current - and that's a big if - even if Metin stopped at the intersection it was far enough back that he would have had to ride forward to see if the road was clear. And on the image, open fields are on all sides EXCEPT a stand of trees where presumably the car was coming from - it doesn't look like they would have seen Metin because of the trees until he was nearly in the intersection. There is a sort of wide sweeping entrance/merging space to the right turn that Metin would have used, one assumes. I'm scratching my head about this because the actual stop looks like it's about 15 feet behind the intersection. I looked at the satellite image of the site. We had made it with two hours to spare, and he said, “Hey - come with us so we can cross the finish line together for Adrian Hands!” I turned to Metin and said, “I’m going to wait here a bit with them,” and thanked him, as best as I could, for his supreme act of mercy.Īlways looking so fresh and cheerful, no matter where we were on a ride. About 4k from the finish, Ian flagged me down at the gate where a volunteer was directing riders onto a separate bike path. Occasionally I’d stop and walk when I couldn’t take it any longer and he’d tell me, “It’s all right, do what you need to do.” I’d ask him, like a whiny child sitting in the back seat of a car during a long road trip, “How much further? Are there more hills?” It was so arduous and agonizing that I don’t think I could have finished without Metin urging me onwards to St. While I felt like I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Metin kept talking to me, telling me we didn’t have far to go and had a good chunk of time in the bank - but that we still had to keep moving. Eric and Theresa went on ahead, but Metin stayed back with me on his fixed gear, a calm, reassuring presence through the final hellish miles. My heels were throbbing, I couldn’t put any pressure on my knee so I was stuck in the saddle (and so my ass was screaming with pain) and I just had nothing left in me to climb any more hills. Then we hit the dreaded, aforementioned section of Rambouillet. We’d all just removed some layers and now we had to put them right back on to ward off the freezing cold raindrops. And it was a wasn’t warm, soothing summer rain either. We caught up to Drew Buck and admired his tenacity for completing several PBPs on vintage bicycles.Then it began to rain - a gentle sprinkling at first, then it grew more insistent. At least the sun was now up and the morning was helping me return to some form of semi-sentience. I hung on to his steady wheel and tried to forget the fact that I was still riding my bicycle. ![]() Eric was an excellent pace-setter, even asking me if he was going too slowly or too fast. It was less than 40 miles to the finish, but they were, without a doubt, the hardest miles I’d ever ridden in my life. took pity on me and said he, Metin and Theresa were going at a slow pace, so I was welcome to join them. Ian encouraged me to join the TPP again, but I knew I didn’t have it in me to hang with them. He nodded in approval and after I returned, I put my head down on the table - unable to eat or act like a human being. Don’t just sit there.” I was still too keyed up from riding to rest, so I said I was going to head to the bathroom. If you’re not eating, you should be sleeping. Kevin was there, too (and I apologized to him for my earlier surliness) and hey, so were Vinnie and Ian! Unable to say much, I zoned out in a useless haze, until Metin said to me paternal fashion, “All right, Jenny. I shuffled into the main dining hall practically comatose, yet I still managed to locate some familiar SFR faces in the back of the room: Eric L., Metin and Theresa. I know that I wouldn't have finished PBP back in 2015 if not for Metin and his loving generosity. ![]()
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