I had hoped with our move over I would be back to a semi-normal riding schedule. Sadly, this week things have not really come together. First weather got in the way (hard to believe it’s nearly May given how cold and crap our weather is), then a long “to do” list was presented to me by our realtor in regards to our old home which is going on the market in two to one hundred ninety-six hours.
I once again found myself aimlessly wandering around Home Depot like a far-sighted dyslexic in an Armenian library; up this aisle and down that aisle picking stuff up that I may or may not know what it is, and may or may not know how to properly use.
The stairway to not quite heaven.
While aimlessly wandering has made up the bulk of my adult life, it’s not really a strenuous physical activity, and as mid-day Tuesday approached I longed to be out doing something. The weather was cold, wet, and windy, and I didn’t particularly feel like riding in that stuff, so I walked down the road to a small wooded park to stomp around with my camera. Also not exactly a strenuous activity, but I was outside for a bit and that’s what I was looking for.
Spring springing.
It was nice to be in the woods and within a few minutes of hiking around I started to get that tingling in the nether regions to be on my mountain bike. Stepping through large roots I started looking at what line I would’ve taken on my mountain bike, walking uphill I found myself thinking of shifting my weight to maintain traction. I knew right then I needed to get on my mountain bike in the woods ASAP. But then I remembered that “to do” list and promptly put it out of my mind, faster than a pop-in by your best friend’s wife… or mom. Sigh.
Three color hand painted found signage.
The weather was going to be chilly–but near perfect–on Wednesday, yet I found myself in an empty house, cleaning and painting instead of riding. I know it was necessary, but not all that fun. Later that day after B was picked up from school, dinner was made, and the soccer practice drop was made, I made the executive decision to put off eating my dinner, see if Wifey could fetch B at practice, and head out for a quick evening dirt road ride on the PrOcal. The PrOcal is not as good as riding the Boone on dirt roads, but infinitely better than lumbering along on the Fatterson, plus it seemed like forever since my ass was on it.
Big ass black horse.
The evening was crisp, and hardly felt like late April, but it felt great to get out for a ride, even a short Better Than The Trainer Ride (Dirty Evening Edition)™.
The continued decline of the Huggy Bear mobile.
After half a day spent painting all I really wanted to do was have some beers and watch some Champions League soccer on the tube. But the allure of dirt–even in road form–was stronger, and living an easy 1.25 mile spin to the dirt roads make it even more tempting. Not to mention Thursday looked shit for riding due to rain moving in for the day.
Every time I ride in the evening I think about how much I miss riding in the evening. I guess it reminds me of the days when I had a “real” job, would work all day and then ride for two hours. I liked that routine, especially the part where I got a paycheck from working and was thin from riding everyday!
Dirt road boxers.
Probably for the best that riding looks to be out on Thursday as I’m VERY behind on two different design projects and look like a big ass slacker for not having some proofs ready. You don’t get as unsuccessful as me without trying a little bit.
Later.