Thursday I grabbed the fatty and headed south on dirt and gravel roads again. It was a good day to be out rambling around and taking pics. There wasn’t much excitement, just a fine fall ride in rural Michigan, so I will just let some of the pics I took speak for fat 30 rolled.
Since yesterday’s ride south of town on the fatty was a mud fest, I thought I might try north of town today; on the Boone. How bad could it be? Not that bad.
Today was another cool, damp misty day here in Michigan. I can deal with mist and cool temps over the recent gusting winds and heavy rain any day, so I headed out on the fatty fatterson to log some miles, take some pics, and roll some worms.
I finally did it! I finally forced my [recovering] sick, fat assed self to get in the saddle and get some miles in. It wasn’t the longest of rides, but between the wind and fatness of the bike, a workout was had.
Monday evening the illness that B-Man picked up while camping last week took over my body; I was less than thrilled. I slept about two hours Monday night as post-nasal drip ran down the back of my throat like a river of sludge. Good times, good times.
Thursday I needed to try (try being the key word) to catch up on the stuff that I neglected to do on Wednesday, so I opted for a short, foggy dirt road ride north of town. Knowing how slack I am I assumed that the ride would suck given that I spent most of Wednesday in the saddle traipsing through the Michigan woods–thankfully I was wrong.
With Brennan off on a camping trip with his school as of this morning and Wifey out-of-town on business again until late Thursday night, I pretty much had nothing to do today. So, after I got B off to school/camping, ate breakfast, drank 62.3 ounces of coffee, dumped out two to eight times and came to mental grips with the fact that I indeed had nothing to do, I decided to head down to ride some of the North Country Trail.
While Wifey has been out-of-town on .gov business this week I did everything a proper father/person should do, and that I do anyway (for the most part): Made all the meals, did laundry, got B to soccer practice, made sure his homework was done, mowed grass, did the shopping, did the dishes, took the trash out, ate properly, didn’t drink booze, smoke crack, shoot up, kill anyone or solicit prostitutes.
Given all that clean living I REALLY thought that I was up for a larger than usual (but not THAT large) multi-surface ride today. Sadly, my want to putz around taking photos, an unforeseen detour, a lack of on the bike nutrition, wind, deep sand, and higher than usual September temps turned me into a gelatinous heap of bonked suck praying for a passer-by to shoot me down like a gimp dog.
A leaky pipe in the ceiling above the Stankment’s Man Cave (actually belonging to a boy) meant that my ability to leave the house was at the mercy of a plumber, and my Wednesday schedule (or lack there of) needed to be adjusted. Any time spent on two wheels would need to be moved to later in the morning/early afternoon, and mileage would be minimal. It was the perfect day to say I was too busy to ride, but I was not going to pass up the opportunity to ride in near perfect 75˚ temperatures and brilliant sunshine. Not when I know all too well that by this time next month the air will have a distinct chill to it, the winds will start cutting to the bone, and base layers and riding jackets will once again become the norm. A ride HAD to be done, even if it meant it had to be a mere 25 mile Better Than The Trainer Ride™ on dirt and gravel roads north of town.
Always dig a good farm truck.
Late August and early September it was gloomy as hell here in Michiganderburgh. I swear we went nearly a solid week at one point without seeing the sun. Most of the time our winters aren’t even like that! Thankfully that has change over the past few days have been it’s been gloriously sunny. Today it was more even glorious ’cause after four days of slack, I finally got back in the saddle for a ride.
