Wednesday Rolled

hay-blue-strings

After two days spent working out indoors for a variety of reasons (weather, time, not giving a shit), I got out for a ride on Wednesday morning. It was a short and sweet 25 miler, with little photo ops along the way, and many of the roads were still muddy messes, but a ride, is a ride, is a ride, is a ride.

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Back Home, Back At It

burr-road

Saturday was spent doing three things: eating, driving, and drinking (not all at the same time). Mostly eating foods that I really didn’t want to eat (hastily thrown together ham sandwiches and pretzels for the trip home), driving for over six hours at Cannonball Run speeds, and after 3.5 days finally having some drinks in an attempt to come down from a whirlwind Thanksgiving visit to Pennsylvania and all the angst that comes with. Through all of that I had my eyes on riding Sunday no matter what Ma Nature or life threw at me, and I did.

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You Can Go Back Home Again

pa_turnpike_rain

Wednesday morning the Unit and I took off to the Fatherland (western Pennsylvania) for the Thanksgiving holiday. Most of the next four days would be filled with visiting family, eating, driving, eating, visiting family, arguing, driving, eating, and driving. My hope for Black Friday was to get up at the ass crack of dawn and head out to Walmart to get my hands on one of two 90″ Sonie™ flat screen TVs for $19.99. I’m joking of course, my goal was to sleep off my turkey coma, continue our family visiting, and if I was lucky get a window of opportunity to drive up to the mountains for a hike. Goal accomplished.

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Twenty-Five in Twenty-Nine

michigan-dirt-road

After two days of not riding, I finally made it out for some dirt road riding on Tuesday morning. The sun was out, the wind was relatively calm, and the air was crisp. Like 29˚ sort of crisp. I sure was a shock from last Friday’s ride in 70˚ weather. But there is no use in complaining about it because I live in Michigan, and cold weather is part of the deal five to eleven months out of the year.

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Almost

unusedgloves

Sunday morning after I finally had enough coffee and soccer I set about looking for all my cold weather gear so I could venture out into the windy 35˚ day and get a ride in.

I found my Lake winter shoes, thermal bibs, wool socks, base layers, and winter gloves. However the one item I couldn’t find was my balaclava. Not sure if it got lost in the move last spring or what, but the fact remained I didn’t have it. I figured what the hell it’s 35˚ not -35˚, and I did have a thermal skull-cap, so how bad could it be.

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Like Night and Day

dr-in-bw

Friday and Saturday this week were like night and day. Friday it was 70˚ and I rode 30 miles in shorts and short sleeves under a blue sky and sun. Saturday it was dark and gray, the wind was gusting, and it was blowing rain and snow most of the day.

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Dodging Bullets (Not Really)

blind_blind

Tuesday was Deer Day here in Michigan, a legit day off of school for kids, and sort of like Christmas Morning for gun loving, blood thirsty, meat eating adults across the state. Actually I take that back, it is indeed like Christmas Morning for many, but the rest of that made it sound like I have an issue with hunting and hunters when in fact I don’t. I have an issue with me hunting, but not with the act itself. I’ve never fired a gun or launched and arrow in my 45+ years, but I’m pretty, sort of, kinda sure I could kill an animal, cook, and eat it. It’s the everything in between (guts and stuff) that I couldn’t do. I will happily eat any venison that any of my friends want to give me though, especially summer sausage or jerky!

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Sugar Beet Ride

sugar_beet_wall

I swear to you, until I moved to Michigan six years ago I had no idea that sugar beets even existed. I knew of red beets only because my grandmother used to pickle and can them, and that I avoided them like the plague. Unbeknownst to me it turns out I’ve probably been eating sugar beets most of my life in the form of sugar. In years past when I saw piles of sugar beets from a distance I assumed they were potatoes or something. Seems I was wrong.

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Let There Be Routine

corn_tire_pen

Looking back, last week is a blur. Mostly because life and riding was all over the place; B-Man off one day, Wifey off another, high winds that made the prospect of riding very unattractive, and spending many an evening with a drink in my hand in front of the TV playing EA Sports FIFA to take my mind off the pending demise of our country at the hand of a bad haired, orange, dictator-like buffoon. But that’s over and done with, time to move on, to let the chips fall where they may, and to get back to a routine that includes riding, time in the woods, working out, and not seeking refuge in a bottle.

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What Happened?

trees_deefield

This week has been a blur of riding, hiking, drinking, self-pity, anger, and resentment. I know I rode my bike once (Monday?). I also know that Tuesday was spent at the bike shop getting a crap ton of stuff done to the Boone, and that Wednesday I rolled down the driveway, into the cul-de-sac, said “fuck it,” rolled right back up the driveway into the garage, changed out of my kit and went to find peace and solitude with a walk in the woods.

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