In a time when too much information strikes me as lacking substance or flavor or any seriousness that extends beyond narcissism, the following passed-along-in-email offers a little respite:
Penny Farthing enthusiasts endure to this day. Please invite me when you plan to try yours out.
I have two of those in my cellar, left over from my late husband's salad days. Not hard to ride but tricky to dismount (no brake to speak of). My husband used to leap over the handlebars on a grassy rise. Those were the days.
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