Blubber and Rubber

As I eluded to in the last post, mid-Michigan was about to/is getting bitch slapped in the face with the meaty dick of a heat wave. I was quite used to warm humid summers under “partly cloudy”1 skies back in Pittsburgh, but here in Michigan, with 8 months of cold temps, a 95˚ day feels like it’s 350˚ and the air is like breathing through the UltimAir 100% polyester crotch of a size 3XL pair of Breezies™ whilst being worn by a 6XL QVC home shopper. While some may find that incredibly erotic and spank-worthy, I do not. Well, at least not while riding my bike.

Knowing intense temps, and the aforementioned crotch-huff air was upon us, I made the decision to make sure I was in the saddle by 7:30 AM on Saturday. While I’m sure that was the right decision, it still sucked ass. Or should I say huffed Breezies?

The early morning air was so hot and humid you could cut it with a knife. I wasn’t even out of the cul-de-sac and I was pouring sweat. It was also apparent that I should have eaten more than a half a cup of coffee and slept more than 3 hours the night before… stupid insomnia!!! To say I felt like shit would be an insult to shit.

My first attempt at a photo was thwarted by a steamed up lens. Since I didn’t have a lens cloth I just put the camera away for a bit and hoped for the best later in the ride.

I plodded on hoping that my legs would come around at some point, but the heat was just too much. If you’re a 170-pound man and the heat sucks for you, imagine ensconcing yourself in 60+ extra pounds of blubber and thick, blood clot prone blood. I looked like a fresh, out of the oven, glazed ham and was pumping congealed beer scented bacon grease out of every pore on my body!! I was cooked after just 20 miles and just wanted to get home and into the air conditioning.

Knowing that I would have a westerly tailwind to push me home, I decided to forgo dirt and take the pavement of Baseline Road east as far as I could. Then, with about 3 miles to go, I flatted. GOSH-DARN-SON-OF-A-BUCK!

While Baseline does have a wide shoulder, it was still unnerving to be off in the grass of someone’s yard along the road while cars sped by at 70+ miles per hour (in a 55) unconcerned that there was a human being feet from them.

Thankfully, the tube swap was fast and easy and I was quickly on my way. It seems that I once again fell victim to a random hunk of wire from a shredded car tire along the road. Sort of ironic that the flat tire was caused by another tire’s demise. Maybe not. Probably not.

As soon as I got home stripped off my soaking wet kit and laid my naked ass body in front of a fan in the Chamber of Farts until my core temp got below 225˚ and the once greasy sweat that encrusted me turned to a salt cure. I was glad I forced myself out in the morning because the 95˚ temps later in the day would have made a ride impossible for someone like me, but to say I had fun would be a lie.

The rest of the day was spent in the AC watching the World Cup until later in the day when beers were cracked and a meat was thrown on the grill. Embrace the blubber!

I hate Michigan’s long cold winters, and I have no desire for their return, but I’m not equipped to handle this sort of heat. I guess I am becoming more and more like Jake (the dog): not good with the heat, not good with the cold, snores, farts, burps, humps things, and excels at doing nothing.

Later.

  1. That means sunless and dull white at best!

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