39 uneventful miles with the club.
Then when I got home the letter carrier delivered this parcel. No return address. It was addressed to me, at a P.O. Box that has been closed for at least 10 years. They assigned new box numbers after the P.O. moved - and then I closed my "new" box last spring since I'd closed the business - so the parcel was forwarded to me in Florida with a label they use for DH's box (rather than sending it to my street address in Ohio to get forwarded through the computer system). Thank goodness for small town post offices! 

I opened the parcel and still couldn't figure out what it was. There were three file folders that appeared to be original Social Security Administration files. One of them was a former client of mine, and that folder was pretty well damaged and part of it missing. The other two files were intact, but not my clients. No cover letter, no nothing. WTF? DH pointed out a little printed explanation on the inside of the envelope saying that the parcel had been damaged in transit and re-packaged by the Post Office. (I'd never have found that myself, it was so deep inside.) Apparently when the outer envelope and the cover letter got lost, they addressed the parcel to me because my old address was in one of the files. So anyway, how does this add up to a ride?
One of the claimants had been unrepresented during the claim that her folder referred to; the third one had been represented by another attorney who does a lot of the Social Security work in my area. I called her office, and luckily all three were her clients. So I packaged it back up and this time put my cover letter under the rubber bands holding the files together. (Now that I think about it, the parcel was probably addressed to her local SSA office for her review, not to her. But they'll get back where they're supposed to be - at least, what's left of them.)
So that was another 10 miles to the post office on the commuter bike. And $11 out of my pocket because someone (probably at SSA) didn't package the files securely for mailing. But oh well. The clerk at the P.O. looked at my glasses mirror and gloves (my helmet was outside with the bike) and said, "I wish I was doing what you're doing!" "Just running errands," I said, but I know what a blessing it is to be able to run errands on the bike on such a beautiful day. I hit the natural foods store on the way back. 49 miles for the day.
Speed comes from what you put behind you. - Judi Ketteler