Tag Archives | Fuji X-T1

Forest Creeper

I knew going into Friday that a ride wouldn’t be in the works. So, between rainy morning errands and an afternoon spent finally cleaning our garage, having junk hauled away, and taking tires to the recycling center, I headed to the Sylvan Preserve to hike, er walk a few miles with my camera.

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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.

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Gal Pal Hikes

My reign as King of The Morons continues, as does some pretty sore ribs from where they collided with the ground and a series of tree roots last Friday when I tripped trail running lumbering. Because of that I have shunned riding, embraced a life of slack and headed into the woods with Wifey for some hiking and picture taking.

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Back to Bundy

I woke up Tuesday morning to find that we once again enjoyed another night of rain. Yeah! More muddy dirt roads and more fuel for the ever growing grass of my yard which I seem to be mowing twice a week these days.

With little motivation for riding on the muddy dirt roads, and even less to deal with cars on the paved roads, I put my camera’s battery on charge and waited for the caffeine to do its job before heading out for some more time stomping around the wet woods.

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Stomp The Neithercut

Monday’s are usually a shit show for me, and this Monday would try its hardest to bring fecal matter to the dick-tip of this week’s production, but I counter attacked with some fecalness of my own. WIN!

Right out of the gate I had an 8 AM appointment with my eye doctor. Afterward, I would have plenty of time to ride, fuck about, or actually get some work done, but I declined. Instead, I packed my camera and boots and after my appointment, I drove straight to the Neithercut Woodlands about 25 minutes north of town to get a few miles of hiking in.

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Short Stomp

The great thing about being a non-racing, chubby dad-bod type cyclist is that sometimes, even on a perfect spring day in Michigan, you can say “Fuck it, I don’t feel like riding.” Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do something outside.

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Frogs & Yoga Pants

My morning ride time lurched towards me like a salt covered slug and I was thinking of a reason—any reason—not to ride other than “I just want to drink coffee and watch our Nation continue to burn down around me on the inter-web-o-sphere and then go hide under the covers and wish it all away.” Well, it turns out that some oncoming thunderstorms would have a say in my decision.

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