It took a while, a week to be exact, but I finally got back in the saddle. And it felt great.
After a day spent working at the shop on Thursday, I was up early on Friday to make Wifey breakfast before she left for work and to get some writing and photo editing done before I headed out for a ride north of the Cul-De-Sac-Shack.
I knew there was the potential for some rain, but as long as it wasn’t going to be a torrential downpour I really didn’t care, I needed to ride. I dig hiking, and vacation was great, but at the end of the day no matter how BIG my frame gets or how short my rides are, I am a cyclist at heart. Breaking a 25-year habit is damn hard!
I love this shot.
I headed north on the Boone and was on dirt in a little over a mile. I was riding in the sunshine, but the clouds in the distance were taking on an ominous look, and I was starting to get the feeling that I was going to get wet at some point during the ride.
Yep, I’m probably gonna get wet.
I’m not sure if it was the extended break from riding, the effects of my 13th boozeless day in a row, or the whopping 2.2 pounds I’ve lost over nearly two goddamn motherfucking weeks of this shit, but I was feeling excellent on the bike, even as I pedaled into the headwind blowing all those rain filled clouds towards me.
As expected, the rain caught up with me. I did make it about halfway before it started, and about three-quarters of the way before it really started coming down. My phone was tucked away in my Ortlieb bar bag along with the weather-resistant Fuji X-T1 and 18-135mm lens, so I pedaled along with a grin on my face as the refreshing rain pelted my face and my waterlogged chamois pad shot water up my ass with every pedal stroke. It was the repeated enema I never knew I wanted. Or needed.
Into the rain.
Given that the XT-1 and 18-135 are weather sealed, I felt little guilt as I stopped here and there to get a shot. The buttons weren’t the easiest to operate with slippery wet gloves on, but I made the best of it and got a few shots I dug.
Poop water frozen in time.
My brakes screeched as I came to a stop 26.5 miles later in the C.D.S.S.’s garage. The noise startled Jake (the dog), and he started barking like a maniac. Usually, when I come home he barely lifts his head up to acknowledge me, I guess he doesn’t like screeching disc brakes… just like everyone else!
Who goes there??
***
Pile of high-viz black wet stuff.
It was great to get out on the bike today. The rain wasn’t a bother at all, and if anything, it encouraged me to give the Boone a much-needed bath this evening! I’m hoping that the coming weekend will also bring more miles of dirt, gravel, and maybe even some singletrack if I can get motivated enough to drive somewhere.
Later.