Last Thursday I headed back to western PA for a couple-ish days. I wasn’t all that keen to make a trip back right now, but with my dad recovering from a recent heart attack, I thought it was only proper to head home, check up on him, and pay a visit. It would also give me and my family a chance to catch up with some great friends that we haven’t seen in a while. I wish I could have seen a few others during my stay, but that will have to wait for later in the summer or fall.
My dad has been talking at great lengths about how miserable the western PA summer has been; “All it does is rain,” he says five to seventy times a phone call in between Fox News fueled rants about race relations, the economy and “this Obama” (to say we don’t see eye to eye on politics is an understatement, especially since I won’t even vote because I hate everyone who isn’t FDR). I chalk all that up to him being my father, which means he has the ability to be slightly hyperbolic. It turns out he was pretty spot on– the weather in western PA sucks a big ass, soggy donkey dong.
On my 6.5 hour drive south-east Thursday morning it started raining when I crossed from Michigan into Ohio and didn’t stop until I left Pittsburgh at the ass crack of dawn on Saturday morning. Even when weatherdotfuckingcom predicted sun and warm temps on Friday it was soggy and fucking miserable. So I ended up cutting my dad’s soggy, tall ass grass in a light rain. Not ideal grass cutting conditions, but at least it will get him through a bit until he fully recovers and/or finds a landscaper looking to mow a lawn roughly the size of a crap living room.
Exiting the Pittsburgh birth canal back to life in Michiganderburgh.
By the time I got back to Mt. Pleazy early Saturday afternoon, it was in the eighties and sunny, which made me realize– yet again– that I miss my friends and family back in WPA (as well as the hills and mountains), but I in NO FREAKING WAY miss the shit weather: gray skies, rain, lack of sun and humidity. Fuck that, I’ll take our harsh winters here if it means sun and dry trails in the summer!
After getting some work out of the way on Sunday morning I headed up to Mid (Mid Michigan Community College) in the late morning/early afternoon to ride my favorite singletrack in the area. My plan was to do at least one sixteen mile loop and then see what happens.
Sadly, I have had this plan many times this summer but my laziness, expanding stomach and aching back usually get in the way. Today however was bliss. The trails were in great condition, my back felt good and the “Rim Tickler” (AKA, my 2014 Trek Superfly FS 9.8) felt amazing compared to the (now) nightmare of riding my hardtail (I can’t believe I just typed that, I loved that bike!!!).
I did one full sixteen mile lap, in what may have been the hottest day of the summer thus far here in Michiganderburgh (85˚), and then added in another ten miles of the original ten-mile MMCC loop to get twenty-six miles of singletrack goodness in my fat legs.
I was so freaking stoked on how the ride went. For being (almost) forty-four years old and thirty-ish pounds overweight (or at least thirty pounds heavier than I was six years ago), I felt great. Had I taken more than one bottle of water with me, I would have/could have ridden more. That is something that I haven’t said in quite a while when talking about riding singletrack.
Yes, yes, yes I am more than a bit saddened at the fact that after having spent many years racing 6, 12 and 24 hour solo mountain bike races and 100 mile events I am “stoked” to have ridden twenty-six miles. Oh how the crap have fallen to be even crapper…. Oh, fuck it! It felt great, and I have to say– twenty-six miles of singletrack is the most amazing mental enema. It’s no wonder that I did it on top a bike that I now refer to as the Rim Tickler.
Lastly, I would be remiss if I didn’t give a shout out to Wifey today. After nearly two weeks of traveling for work she is back home and in the confines of my aging man bosoms. This is perfect timing, as today we celebrate our 18th wedding anniversary . I really have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that ANY woman would want to spend 18 years of their life with me: I’m not smart, I no longer have even a vague semblance of a career, I’m not all that nice, and I’m not good looking. I pretty much bring zero to the table, yet she digs me. Must be all those things I do “behind the scenes” of Soiled Chamois HQ. Yeah, that’s it.
Off work tomorrow, then back to work at the shop for a few days this week. It will be nice to get back. I’m also looking forward to getting some routine back this week; I’m back to work, B is home from his week with his Poppy and Wifey and I are under the same roof again (at least for now, once she reads this post she will surely realize the eighteen year long mistake she’s made).
Later.