Each day, each week, each ride, fall continues to fall upon central Michigan. More and more fields are now bare; crops harvested and carted off to become Doritos, Big Macs, and corn flavored gasoline, leaving the landscape wide open for crisp winds to travel 3,800 miles from the Witch’s tit (located on a small island in the East Siberian Sea) all the way to rural Michigan to turn the nipples on my sagging pecs into glass cutting diamonds as I lumber along dirt roads on my bike.
Thankfully there are still some crops hanging on, and leaves remaining on the trees to keep all that from happening quite yet, but each day we creep a little closer to death, er, I mean winter.
After taking Monday off the bike to actually do stuff, I manage to get in three days in a row of riding and picture snapping. The rides varied in length from 32 miles to 25, and 28 miles respectively, and the photos ranged in quality from crap, to OK, to “I can’t believe I got that shot.”
The birds were extremely cooperative the past two days. I’ve taken plenty of bird shots in back yard as they gather around the feeder, but on the dirt roads it can be hard to get a shot. Usually between the noise of my bike, and the time it takes me to get my camera out of the bag, they are long gone. However this week I had luck with the both the Downy Woodpecker above, and the shots of a grouse below.
It’s always nice to get some shots of wildlife in their natural habitat, rather than at a feeder. It’s also nice to get some shots of animals other than livestock. Having said that, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t stoked to hang out with the Amish pig below.
It rutted, snorted, sniffled, and grunted around in the dirt, and even did an impressive belly crawl under one section of barbed wire to get to some fresh dirt. It simultaneously made me want to own a pig AND hungry for ham sandwich. All that snorting and grunting reminded me of my Jake (the dog).
The shot above is of my new bike. Actually I saw it along the road as I pedaled by and wondered where the hell the owner was, it turns out he was over by a nearby tractor tinkering away on its engine. I guess the bike is his shop vehicle.
Of course somewhere between the birds, barns, and autumnal trees, I captured a rash of TV murders. In three rides I saw three TVs along the road that were either shot, obviously dumped from a moving vehicle, or abandoned and left just to sit along a rural road. I know what a pain in the ass it is to get rid of an old tubed TV, and I’m sure this was just some lazy asses tossing them along the dirt roads to rid themselves of the first world shackles that are tubed TVs, but I found myself rolling along, imagining an irate Trump voter watching the presidential debate, realizing that they are backing a nut job, losing their shit, and using their second amendment right to blow a hole in their TVs while screaming about that “nasty woman.” It probably was just laziness and a lack of respect for the environment though.
With three rides in, the rest of the week will hold no riding as I catch up on some work before we head down state for a soccer tournament all weekend. Probably for the best, I was starting to feel too good on the bike, I need to keep my (lack of) fitness in check to insure I struggle all winter lose just five of the fifty pounds I need to shed.