Archive | Random

A Night in 2008

Last Sunday evening I sat in my chair1 sipping a beer and thinking about the week ahead. It was only about 6 PM or so and it was completely dark. This is of course is not unusual for this time of year, but it can be a shock to the system given that I live in an area of the country where it often stays daylight until nearly 10 PM during the summer months.

I’m not sure if it was the Backwoods Bastard, the early darkness, or the fact that I had the volume up to eleven (one louder than 10) on the TV but I found myself thinking back to a ride I did in late October of 2008 when I was still living in White Oak, PA.

It was an ill-advised solo night ride that started at the Boston trailhead of the Great Allegheny Passage rail trail. The plan was to ride the trail down to Sutersville, then hop on a shitty paved farm road loop for a few miles before heading back to the trail. The mileage would be roughly 33 miles, and almost entirely in the dark.

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Try This

Riding has been on the back burner for a few days now due to schedules, weather, travel for B’s soccer, and other crap-ol-la. Things finally look clear for a Tuesday but I haven’t gone for it yet, so this post has nothing to do with it.

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The Cure For Pain

The title of this post suggests that I am going to wax poetic about my ongoing fisticuffs with the “black dog,” attempt to sell you some sort of $19.99 faux copper-infused compression stocking snake oil shit that will dull the pain of your torn rotator cuff, or talk at length about the greatness of the song Cure For Pain by the band Morphine.1 But I’m not, I’m gonna talk about my ass. Again!

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Not Speaking in Code

After Sunday’s ride, I entered a two-day period of nothingness. Other than catching up on some stuff, getting some house chores done, and another doctor’s appointment there was not much going on. Well, I guess there was the rodeo on Tuesday night. Yeah, you read right, Mr. Artsy-Fartsy, Smiths listening, left winger, shaved legged bicycle boy went to a rodeo.

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Time and Miles

There has been little time to get any miles in on the bike for a variety of reasons, including a home tournament for B-Man over the weekend that had us at the fields most of the weekend.

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Pig in The City

Tuesday marked one week since I last rode my bike. It also marked the last day I broke a sweat doing anything other than breaking a fever (or wind). The days that weren’t marred by illness were marred by heavy rain, high winds, or traveling for B’s soccer matches. And the days not marred with any of those things, were marred by a much dreaded, mentally crippling overnight trip down to Chicago to hang out with Wifey for a night while she was away at a work conference.

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Counting My Losses

After last Tuesday’s ride, the rest of the week was lost to illness and shit weather. Thursday night I finally got more than 2 hours of sleep, as a result I felt the best I had in days on Friday. Not “let’s go for a ride” good, but good enough to catch up on some adulting, then hang with B-Man and Jake (the dog) in the yard of the Cul-de-sac Shack, capturing some of the backyard nature that can be found around our home with my camera. Due to a complete lack of doing anything, all of today’s images are from that afternoon of backyard slack.

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Wallowing

As I mentioned here in my last digital dispatch of dystopian cycling life, I appear to have contracted some sort of allergy. Since Tuesday morning I’ve been dealing with itchy eyes, sinus pressure, a scratchy throat, clogged ears, coughing, endless streams of snot, and a bright red nose that only goes to further the general public’s assumption that I am some sort of jobless, beer drinking scoundrel.

Alas, it’s taken me two days, and two sleepless nights to finally admit; I don’t think this is an allergy, I think I’m ill. If it’s not illness, it’s one bastard of an allergy, and the trees from which the pollen spores fled should be burnt to the ground by hordes of torch wielding warriors on horseback, Game of Thrones style.

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