
Say what you want about the necessity, value, and quality of the—went on a bit too long—Soiled Chamois mini-shit show entitled The Quarantine Chronicles, it motivated me to write. Now, not so much.

Say what you want about the necessity, value, and quality of the—went on a bit too long—Soiled Chamois mini-shit show entitled The Quarantine Chronicles, it motivated me to write. Now, not so much.

Someday this will all be over. Eventually, I will wake up in the morning and know what day it is, and care what day it is. Someday the country won’t be a polarized and divided dumpster fire, and the name of the orange fuck face in the White House will just be a despicable footnote in the pretty darn, not bad history of our country.
Until that day comes, I will keep doin’ what I do to make life fun: ride bikes, take photos, hike trails, love my wife and kid, watch the footy, drink beer, and make food.

I don’t know, man [rubs gelatinous, stubbled cheeks, then eyes, followed by a pull of unkempt hair]. I haven’t been on my bike since Friday, and I don’t know whether I’m happy, moderately upset, almost sad, or not giving a shit about it.

The past week was filled with ups and downs. To be honest, it was mostly filled with downs, but I’m choosing not to devote any more brainpower than is absolutely necessary to those bits and think about my Friday morning ride.

The week thus far has been nothing but adulting and slack. And if you know me, you know that me and adulting go together like oil and water. There is a school of thought among many that I mentally plateaued in about 7th grade, possibly 6th, but that is a discussion for another post.

With two days of riding, it was time to utilize my spare time for something else on Sunday. That something else started with me sitting on the front porch drinking coffee while watching in piss down rain sideways. It was just the calm and relaxing mental enema I needed. Had I known what was happening simultaneously, I may have forgone that blissful mind-enema and just started shoving beer and/or legalized in the state of Michigan herbal supplements down my throat.

My Saturday plan was to mountain bike at MMCC. So, I was up early-ish to eat, coffee up, dump out, and get my shit together for the ride. Only I didn’t get all my shit together.

I thought I was up early enough to beat the heat on Friday morning, but it turns out I was wrong.

I have done little in the way of physical activities this week. I can’t really pinpoint the whys and why nots, but it didn’t happen—until today.
[THERE SHOULD BE A PHOTO HERE]
To say things did not go as I planned since my last post would be an understatement.
Yes, I rode my mountain bike on Friday, and it was excellent, as was celebrating Wifey’s 49th birthday that evening. Saturday, I dedicated myself to sloth and outside chores. Sunday was to be a day of hiking with my camera. That’s when things started falling apart.