Just when I started to think that I might never ride my bike again; I did. I rode last Wednesday then my work schedule (who’d a thunk that would happen?), appointments and weather kept me out of the saddle for four days in a row. While it’s easy to blame all those things, it was mostly just laziness that prevented me from riding. What can I say, I’m pretty swell at being lazy.
I had planned a mountain bike ride yesterday, but the weather radar showed heavy storms approaching, so I stuck close to home and spent a few hours fishing (but not catching). It never did rain here, but my buddy told me that he got poured on just north of town, so I guess I made the right choice.
Everything seemed to finally line up today and I got out for a ride. Sadly, not for the exact ride that I wanted, but it was good. It seems that in my rush to get my cassette and rotor transferred over to a spare wheel before we got busy in the shop last week I stupidly put the rotor on the wrong direction and didn’t notice until my wheel wouldn’t got into the dropout last night. Godfuckingdamnittohell!! CUSS! Some people that work in bike shops should NOT be working on bikes! I’m that guy! I’m sort of joking of course. Since I don’t have the proper tools at home to flop it and I didn’t feel like driving down to the shop until I work later in the week I said “fuck it,” grabbed the Farley and set off on a thirty mile dirt road ramble with the Porcelain Rocket DSLR Slinger attached to my bars and stuffed with my Nikon D3200.
As is my want when riding the fatty, I started from a local county park to save riding expensive, fat, four-inch knobbies on pavement for too long. I admit I did have an ulterior motive for this as well; with the mighty Chip flowing right through Meridian Park, I could also take a few minutes to make a few casts after my ride. Mid afternoon on a hot summer day is not prime fishing time, but it’s better than nothing.
After two solid months of riding the Boone, switching to the Farley felt ridiculously slow, heavy and stupid. Well, at least until I got in the right mindset, then it all seemed slow, heavy, stupid, fun and perfectly normal! I had a blast riding the sandy dirt roads while snapping some pics of the various things that bring me joy while riding through Michiganderburgh.
The funny thing a bout riding in central Michigan is that you go down one dirt road and see an Amish woman cutting hay in a horse-drawn buggy, then you go down another road and see a big ass, modern-day crop sprayer (complete with Michigan State flag).
I’m more than a bit certain that this ride did next to nothing for my fitness, but thirty miles is thirty miles, and thirty miles pushing pedals on a fat bike takes just a tad more effort AND is better than zero miles. Still, I should probably do something a bit more demanding tomorrow instead of putzing around on a fat bike taking photos.
Then again, while I do care about my fitness and a bit about my weight, I can’t deny that getting in some miles AND goofing off with my camera is damn fun. Oh yeah, and I did have time to for about thirty minutes of post-ride fishing. Sadly, I didn’t catch anything, I did have a smallmouth on for a few moments, but then it jumped and shook the lure loose. Probably my fault; most of the time I just assumed that my lure is snagged up on a log or something and I fail to set the hook proper.
Just like being a crap cyclist, being a crap fisherman and crap photographer is not going to win me anything or put food on the table, but it makes me feel good. And in a world filled with so many amazingly stupid people, doing incredibly stupid things in an attempt to feel good about themselves, I think riding my bike (whatever its girth), taking some photos and trying to catch (and release) a fish or two is just fine.
Later.
