The wind has been the story around these parts over the past few days. Along with the wind, there’s also been a dose of bad-ish and good-ish luck and no riding.
After breakfast on Sunday, I decided to go for a walk in the crisp fall woods before running some errands. I went out to the car, started it up and was met with an AWD Drive Disabled warning. Hmmm….
I turned off the car, went inside, Googled, and was told it might be a sign of a low battery. I went back out, started it up again, and was met with a bit of hesitation from the engine, but it turned over. So I left and added a stop at AutoZone to have the battery tested to my To Do list.
After my hike around Sylvan, I started the car and got no warning light. I decided to stop at AutoZone anyway, just to be sure.
I stopped, the woman came out, we raised the hood, and saw that the battery in the Escape is sort of hidden under some shit. Neither one of us knew how to access the battery, so the plan was abandoned. I thanked the woman for her time and proceeded to leave. Well, try to leave. The battery was now dead. Fuck.
The manager came out and knew how to test the battery,
“Yep, it’s dead,” he said.
“OK, can we change it?” I asked.
“No, we’re not permitted to take apart all the plastic that Ford hid the battery under. You’ll need to take it to the dealer. I can jump it though.” Thanks, Ford.
With that, I called Wifey to meet me at the dealer, filled out some paperwork and dropped the keys in the Service Department’s drop box.
It sucked to have a dead battery, but after 75,000 miles, I guess I was due. I was glad that it happened where it happened and not miles out of town. 24 hours and $200 later the car was fixed.
Along the lines of my last post, Monday morning—sometime between me getting out of bed and walking ten steps to the bathroom—I got some sort of pinched nerve/muscle thing in my shoulder and neck. It hurt, was stiff as fuck, and I couldn’t look right all day. Shit. I felt like this dude that my brother and I would see at church when we were kids, we called him “The Guy That Can’t Turn His Head.”
I had just come back from getting blown around by the wind in the woods during a post-lunch hike when I got a text from B-Man: “Coach called me up to play in Districts. Can you get my stuff to me by the time the bus leaves at 2:15?” It was 1:45.
I got his shit together and quickly drove to the high school to drop his gear and wish him luck.
We were pretty stoked for him. He was only one of two JV boys asked to continue practicing with the varsity, the only Freshman, and the only one of the two that got any playing time that night.
Wifey was able to leave work early, so I stuffed the car with blankets, hats, and coats, picked her up and off we went to Bay City to watch him play. Sadly our impromptu trip would have us unable to pick my car up at the dealer but no worries, we were able to watch B play his first Varsity minutes.
The wind was continually gusting during the match, and despite blankets and coats, everyone was frozen! I’m not sure I ever remember being that cold… EVER!! And the team lost 5-1. Season over. But hey, B played 10 minutes!
Somewhere between the bad neck and the car issues, I did find myself finding some motivation. Not to ride, but to get outside and shoot photos, and down to the Not So Stankment to lift heavy things for no reason and lumber on the Dreadmill. It’s not ideal, but it’s been helping me feel like I’m at least trying to not turn to a bowl of slack flavored jelly.
After two days of badish luck, goodish luck, eating well, working out, and constant running around to car dealers and frigid soccer pitches, I found myself looking out at more cold winds blowing late Tuesday and proceeded to find myself cracking open a few too many IPAs that evening and pissing away all the hard work done. Oh well, I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t feel great. So I have a beer belly, fuck it.
We are now entering our third day of gusting winds. My recent return to lifting heavy things for no reason has my pecks feeling like I was breastfeeding a herd of wildebeests, and I picked up an eye irritation the other day (probably from the wind blowing debris into my face) that makes me look like I finally got a hold of some Michigan skunk weed. The eye doesn’t hurt, it’s not sensitive to light, nor is there any discharge, so I am 99.999% sure that it’s not pink eye. Unless of course, some poop germs attacked me while in the porta-john at the game the other night. If I know me, there’s a SOLID 00.001% chance that I do have some sort of eyeball eating virus.
Despite the continued high winds, and my Tuesday night IPA Fest, I’m still going to utilize my Wednesday Me Time with a trip into the woods to take some photos. With any luck, I’ll find myself in the saddle tomorrow for some dirt road love.