***
***
***
***
Later.
Archive | Outdoors
Ending Months
I got out Thursday morning for a ride, but it soon became apparent that I didn’t have it in me. I was riding right into a steady wind that combined with overnight rain and morning sun to make things an un-fun, sticky mess. I did 15 miles, and that would have to scratch my workout itch for the day.
Summiting
WEDNESDAY 7:53 AM
I’ve been up since 6:30 AM, which is pretty normal since I usually go to bed by 9 PM these days. Oddly, it’s dark as night with threatening clouds leftover from last night’s thunderstorms, and I have a feeling it’s going to be like this for most of the day.
Given the rain overnight, I’ll be keeping my Roscoe and its new 29er wheels with low-profile Kenda rubber out of the mud and in the garage1. Instead, I’ve developed a plan to tackle 2 to 3 laps of the Bundy Hill Preserve, hopefully without being struck by lightning.
Build an Ark
Against the better judgment of the weather goof on TV, but falling in line with my 49 years of poor decisions, I headed out into Summer Monsoon-A-Go-Go 2021 for a walk at Meridian Park on Saturday.
It’s been real build an ark-type weather here over the past week, so any outdoor activity needs to be inside. 2 In other words—it’s been raining a lot, so unless you don’t mind getting wet (spoiler alert, I don’t), you’re better off inside.
Dang Quesadillas!
Like the potent, sour smell of the men’s room in the mall, I’m back.
Returns and Firsts
A post so crap it took three days to write
So, it’s April
I woke up early this morning 75 pounds lighter, with no signs of depression in sight, a real job to go to, and a spring in my step as my about to be fully vaccinated self danced down the steps towards a hot cup of morning coffee.
Yeah, April fools. The vaccination part is true3, and the coffee was hot, but the rest is all lies. LIES, I SAY!! FUCKING LIES!!!
Sorry.
That Saturday Feel
Saturday had no Saturday feel. Why, you ask? No footy to watch. Sure, there was World Cup Qualifying, but no game really spoke to me, and other than the England squad, footy on the world stage lacks the drama and top-class screenwriting of the Premier League; from the BIG 6 all the way down to the bottom three fighting for survival due to the beauty of Promotion/Relegation. Sigh.
So, with a so-called “Saturday” at my disposal, I returned to the Forest Hill Nature Area with my Nikon Z6 camera, a 500mm 600mm lens, a vintage macro lens, and Wifey.
Over the Moor
Imagine, if you will, the opening credit montage of an early 1990’s British crime series on BBC America. I, the unassuming sheep farmer/pub-goer turned amateur photographer/mystery sleuth, make my way across the green moors of the English countryside with a jaunty spring in my step and a small film camera around my neck as my rambunctious border collie runs ahead doing border collie type stuff. I stop and look out at the rolling green hills in front of me; the camera pans the scene in my gaze before zooming in on my face and a twinkle in my all-knowing sleuthly eye as I light my pipe filled with 100% legal in the State of Michigan kush tobacco and then take a photo with my little jank camera.
Now imagine that absolutely none of that happened.
Mindbender and Me
MINDBENDER II (THE WRATH OF KHAN)4
“Here, take this. It’s a mixture of horse placenta, baby spit, and the toenail of a sodomized goat, manufactured in the basement of a New Jersey pharmaceutical company/suburban home.”
ME
“Will it slow my metabolism down even further and cause me to gain even more weight like all the other shit has?”
MINDBENDER II (THE WRATH OF KHAN)
“No, no, it was weight neutral in trials; it will just help with your want to leave the house. And who knows, it might even get you back on your bike or in the woods with your camera. Trade: Phenodihydrochloride benzelex. Street: The embalmer”
ME
“Balls. I’ll swallow it and run a mile.”
Me grabs handful of colorful pills and shoves them down his throat.
MINDBENDER II (THE WRATH OF KHAN)
“Not those pills, THESE pills, those are my M&Ms, you stupid nipple. By the way, you still owe your $30 copay from our last session.”
Me proceeds to write a check with milk chocolate—now freed from its hard, colorful candy shell— smeared across his chubby face.
ME
“What’s today’s date again?”5
— SCENE —