Archive | August, 2018

Am I Going The Wrong Way?

I wasted much of my Thursday morning writing pointless words and posting photos to this digital fish wrap instead of riding. There have been times in the past where I’ve just said “fuck it” and climbed back into bed so as to avoid human contact and find escape in my dreams. But I’ve grown a bit lately (inward and outwards) and instead donned my kit, lubed up the undercarriage and headed out for a quick ride on dirt roads.

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Magic Bullets

Tuesday night the mid-Michigan area got a round of ball busting storms: thunder, lightning, high winds, and rain. A lot of rain. The Cul-De-Sac-Shack’s lawn that was brown for most of the summer is now back in force and in need of twice a week mowings. Oh well, just a little added swomethin’-somethin’ to help me earn my keep. Sure beats wearing the gimp masks again. I don’t know how anyone can breathe in those things!

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Quite a Difference

I proclaimed loudly (or at least typed some shit here) back in May about how I was going to start mountain biking more. That lasted about two or three weeks, and then I immediately went back to riding gravel roads.

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Mega Ketchup

I’ve been doing this whole blogging thing for a while now; since April 2005 to be precise. I’ve seen many a blogger come, and many a blogger go since then. Most of that was due to the instant-gratification-self-love that was brought forth via Facebook and Twitter. I’ve dabbled in those platforms for sure, but the only real social media platform that I feel compelled to be a part of—beyond blogging this pixelated shit storm—is Instagram.

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Things Not Riding

After two weeks of riding that had me in the saddle for nearly 9 hours one week and over 9 hours the next, I struggled to make it over the 5-hour mark last week. And this week I will probably struggle even to hit that. Uncharacteristically it will not be from my inherent slack but from real life getting in the way.

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More Ketchup

Friday was pretty wet around these parts. So wet that I had to abort a rail trail spin due to the heavy rain. When Saturday came around, I planned on doing Friday’s ride on Saturday; a 25 to 30-mile ride on the paved Jaque rail trail out of Clare. Then I didn’t.

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Pre-Good

Before things get good, they usually have to be bad.

After working all day Thursday at the shop, I was anxious to get out and ride and shoot (pics) on Friday. Sadly that did not work out.

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Thus Far

Monday was a mish-mash of guys here to stain and seal our deck, and me at the shop all day, before stopping to watch the end of B’s JV soccer practice, and then finally home after 7 to scrub the lube and rubber smell off myself and eat something.

Tuesday. It’s only Wednesday, but I barely remember what the hell I did on Tuesday! I know I didn’t ride… Oh yeah, I trimmed the bushes and hedges in the front yard while sweating my ass off, then hauled the clippings to the recycling center. After that, I waited around all day for a package I needed to sign for, then took/fetched B at practice.

Then today—after two days bikeless—I finally made it back in the saddle for a short Better Than The Trainer Ride™ south of town.

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Cracked and Bests

A quick ride in the hot sun late Sunday morning finished off my best week of riding since November. That is not to say it was like the old days of “training” and racing, but for a chubby, 47-year-old slacker who cares more about photo ops than accrued miles, 9+ hours of saddle time wasn’t too shabby.

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