Chunky. No, not my muffin topped mid-drift, and no, not the sodium-heavy soups found in your grocery store. Chunky as in the consistency of the dirt that I would find my tires rambling over—and seemingly before me in every direction—on Wednesday’s ride.
After a few days away from home, it’s been nice to settle back in and to get some riding in. Monday’s ride was a quick loop north of town in the crisp morning air. Tuesday would bring spring-like temps to mid-Michigan, but would also bring steady winds with gusts exceeding 25 miles per hour.
The debate on whether to ride or not raged for most of Monday morning. I weighed options, leaned towards making an alternate plan to get stuff done and avoid venturing out of doors on the bike for what would be a 9th straight day but ultimately said “fuck it” and went for a ride.
Oh, the holidays. Not a fan. I struggle on so many levels to actually enjoy them that it’s not worth getting in to. The key for me is to find enjoyment where I can and to make the best of those situations.
My original Black Friday plan was to meet up with a friend of mine for lunch but that plan was nixed before it happened when he was forced to cancel. So, I went with Plan B: a Black Friday hike on the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail.
Riding has been absent from my life over the past few days and soon I will be hurling myself kicking and screaming towards western Pennsylvania for the Thanksgiving holiday. With that, I thought I would post a few of my favorite photos from the past year. Most are from while out riding, but some are from shooting events or my boy’s soccer matches. I’m sure there are photos I’m missing, but this will do for now.
If there is one universal truth concerning my “doing stuff” in the months of November through March it is that the size of my water bottles is reduced. Under the mid-morning August sun I might drain two large-sized water bottles during a ride, come November I’m either doing stupid workouts indoors or riding outside in the full-nip cold and, despite still being needed, sucking down large amounts of water is pretty unlikely. Thus I start sipping from a smaller bottle instead of big ass magnums. Whatever, it’s just an observation, moving on…
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.
‘Tis Tuesday, probably Wednesday for most readers, so let us first backtrack to Monday…
After a cold ride that failed on multiple levels on Friday, I reluctantly headed back out on Saturday to attempt some sort of redemption. Redemption was had, but just barely.
Friday was one of the coldest morning of this fall and pre-winter season. Temps at normal ride time were in the low teens, and warmed up to a balmy 19˚ by the time I finally pushed myself out the door to try to get something in.
