Tag Archives | dirt road life

Crispy Stuff

The wind FINALLY calmed down for a bit on Thursday and I got out for a ride north of town on dirt and gravel roads. It was the first truly cold ride of the season and it had me busting out the (way to snug) tights, and a bunch of other cold weather riding gear.

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Pops, Grunts, & Moans

For better or worse (probably worse) I tell the truth here. I don’t purport to be a better cyclist than I am, and I sure as hell don’t think I’m a better person the rest of you all (I’m pretty sure there are animals that are better humans than me). To some, this comes off as being a fat face malcontent, while others dig the vibe I set. I like that a few people read this shit, but in the end, it matters not. It’s here. It’s free.

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Humid AF

After a weekend off the bike hiking/walking amongst the wet leaves and mushrooms of central Michigan, I took Columbo day off to… um… do stuff that wasn’t actually doing stuff before going to the MP varsity soccer match with B to take photos as requested by the team “Momager.” Happy to oblige.

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Sweat Relief

Monday was an OK-ish ride in the morning, and a HOT early evening in Midland watching B’s JV team get trounced while I sweat all over myself and anyone in a 30-foot radius of my gelatinous body. I don’t know how a person can produce as much sweat as I do just standing there, it really is disgusting and a tad embarrassing.

On Wednesday morning Wifey headed to Chicago for a three-day meeting at HQ, and I snuck out for a morning ride in the dreary mist, happy to be out on my bike after working the balls of Tuesday in the shop.

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Heat Management

A crap ride on Saturday was followed by a day of slack and nothingness on Sunday. By Monday morning I was ready to take on some dirt roads south of town, hopefully before it got too hot.

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Not Being Right

As I closed my last post, I said that whatever I decided to do with my day—doing stuff-wise—it would be the right decision. That sounded good, and I tried to make it right, but choosing to ride had me wishing that I would have done just about anything else.

I’ll explain, because that’s what I do…

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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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