It took 145 days, or 4 months and 24 days if you like counting that way better, for me to finally make it back outside for a ride. There was much rejoicing; there was also some “what the fuckery?” and some generous helpings of self-loathing on the sad topic of what I’ve let myself become (spoiler alert: fat, drunk, and stupid).
We’ll get to the ride soon enough, but given there’s not much to talk about, let’s backtrack for a little bit and talk birds, dogs, and beers.
On Friday I hoped to get outside for a quick hike with my camera. I was up early, fueled up and ready for some picture snappin’ in the woods. Then I got to my destination (The Sylvan Solace Preserve) and saw that the trails were covered in solid glare ice and there was no way my ass was going to risk falling and breaking bone or camera just for some pics.
So, I headed back home, did a quick Zwift™ session, and then hung out with Wifey for a bit when she got home from her scheduled half day of work. I also fooled around with my camera shooting some birds at the feeder for a bit. I would like to insert something about the devil making work for idle hands here, but I don’t believe in devils, and I’m confident whatever sort of work my idle hands do was done during that time hanging out with Wifey.
As you can see, she’s cute as hell. While her name is set in stone, we’re leaning towards Lola, but also might be Esther. Can’t wait to get her home.
After our trip to the breeder, I spent the rest of my day cleaning out my car for the first time in months, doing some house cleaning, and taking a few bags of returnable bottles to the old—possibly homeless—guy who cashes them in for beer money on Misson St. Then I drank way too many beers myself as I watched TV with Wifey. I can’t be trusted.
Despite waking with what was an avoidable headache and a case of the runs, I still planned on getting out for a ride on Sunday.
The air was cool and dank, and the dirt roads alternated between bumpy as fuck and tacky, while the paved roads flirted with being balls-out bombed out.
I stopped a few times for some photo ops, especially when riding along Denver Road as there were literally thousands of Tundra Swans in the fields and flying over head. It was pretty amazing to see.
Despite my newfound girth and bouncing belly, I expected to feel way worse on the bike. Don’t get me wrong, the ride was only about 22.5 miles and I gain more elevation going upstairs to take a dump, but I was anticipating way worse. That’s not to say there weren’t multiple times in which I started to think that my days as a cyclist should be over, but then I would think of those Tundra Swans. If not for being on my bike, why the hell else would I be out in Bum Fuck, Michigan on a dirt road with my camera? Unless I take up farming, I can’t think of one.
Random Non-Paid Endorsement of a Product I Paid Full Retail For:
The Gunslinger Innerwear short from Club Ride Apparel is pretty amazing! I wore them on Sunday under my Craft winter pants, and they were perfect!!
The material is light and comfortable, and the pad is super comfy. Given the short lengths of my rides these days and how I look in bibs these days, I plan on wearing more and more casual attire for my dirt road adventures and mountain bike rides. Plan on picking up a couple more pair of these through the shop, because, you know, I can get them cheaper that way!
OK, time to go think about contributing to society and plan a week out.