After Wednesday’s crap 16-ish mile ride I took Thursday off the bike and just goofed off and got caught up on some stuff.
By Friday I was feeling better mentally and ready to ride, but could have used better legs. I got a half way OK ride in and took some photos, but that was about the extent of it.
I took today (Thursday) off the bike for a couple of reasons: 1. I needed to get some shit done and 2. Wednesday’s ride sucked, sucked real bad and I wanted a break. I should clarify that the ride didn’t suck, the bike didn’t suck–I sucked!
Sunday and Monday were spent off the bike; doing dad stuff, catching up on some work, goofing off, and going to the shop to swap from the too knobby for Michigan singletrack, side wall Stan’s weeping Maxxis Ikons to the trusted Bontrager XR2s. Thankfully on Tuesday, the Magic 8 ball of life had all signs pointing to a ride on dirt roads.
This was one of those weekends that I really needed. This summer had all the makings to be a good one, but then a variety of set backs–some big, some small–caused it to be tolerable at best. Thankfully in the past week, I feel like I’ve started to turn a corner mentally, physically, emotionally, and creatively. This Saturday’s ride was a culmination of all those things coming together.
Yesterday morning I woke up to dark clouds and rain followed by some ongoing mist. As I drank coffee and typed another crap blog post that no one asked for, I was excited to get myself out into it with my bike and camera. My plan was to head south of town since there’s a bit more of the rural decay that I love. I readied the PrOcal and my camera, took care of some Dad duties and other business, got into my kit–which is no easy feat these days–looked out the window and saw blue sky and sun. Damn.
After Sunday’s ride, I entered a two-day period of nothingness. Other than catching up on some stuff, getting some house chores done, and another doctor’s appointment there was not much going on. Well, I guess there was the rodeo on Tuesday night. Yeah, you read right, Mr. Artsy-Fartsy, Smiths listening, left winger, shaved legged bicycle boy went to a rodeo.
The promise I made to myself to get back into the routine of riding and writing was short-lived. The riding part held up, but I fell short with the writing. I got caught up in processing photos from last Thursday night’s Alma MTB Time Trial, riding, taking and processing my own photos from rides and a rainy Saturday hike. There was also some bitterness and depression, too many beers, and bidding farewell to my friend Mike at his memorial service on Sunday.
Monday morning’s schedule had a variety of crap that needed done and I was content not to ride. Until I wasn’t. I found myself caught up and feeling guilty for not riding, so I kitted up for a rare late afternoon ride on dirt roads and pavement north of town.
This summer I have truly lowered the bar for this blog. I know, I know, that’s seemingly impossible, but I’ve done it. Having said that, I have a list of excuses (and rebuttals) ready to go…
It seems like it’s been forever since I headed south of town to ride. I got in the routine of some northern loops, and then with all the flooding we had a few weeks ago, many of the roads were jacked up and impassable, so I continued riding north of town, or worse yet, not riding at all.
