After a week void of cheeks in saddle time, I was finally able to get out for a ride on Sunday. With the wind blowing steadily from the northeast at 15-20+ miles per hour I was expecting the worst, but it was somehow tolerable. I guess when you’re that hard up for a ride, anything will do.
As I closed my last post, I said that whatever I decided to do with my day—doing stuff-wise—it would be the right decision. That sounded good, and I tried to make it right, but choosing to ride had me wishing that I would have done just about anything else.
I’ll explain, because that’s what I do…
I spent most of Friday at the shop doing things that one does while working in a bike shop and was anxious to get out for some riding on Saturday.
I’ve been doing this whole blogging thing for a while now; since April 2005 to be precise. I’ve seen many a blogger come, and many a blogger go since then. Most of that was due to the instant-gratification-self-love that was brought forth via Facebook and Twitter. I’ve dabbled in those platforms for sure, but the only real social media platform that I feel compelled to be a part of—beyond blogging this pixelated shit storm—is Instagram.
I finally slept pretty good last night and was up reasonably early this Saturday to make sure B was up and ready to get to his 9 AM referee class1.
I was also up early because it was the first Saturday of the 2018/19 Premier League season AND I wanted to get out for a ride before it got too hot.
Premier League footy + a ride = a great Saturday!
SATURDAY
I spent Saturday working at the shop. It was so busy that our 3 PM closing time came and I realized that I never even had a chance to take a bite of the sandwich I brought. At least the 5 hours went fast.
The day started out with me fixing a series of flat tires for folks (one of my few mechanical skills) but quickly morphed into me selling bikes. Yes, Mr. Not a People Person chatting and selling comfort bikes to folks. How I do it without the aid of drugs and alcohol is beyond me!
The shop’s 10 to 3 Saturday hours provided ample time for a post-work ride, but it was 92˚ by the time I left. Screw that, a ride can wait!
Friday Morning Preface
It’s currently 52 71 minutes and counting past departure time for my ride. Bottles are filled, chain lubed, camera battery and SD card loaded, and my kit laid out. Yet here I sit drinking lukewarm cold coffee and writing about how I’ve not left yet. Idiot.
I woke up around 5 AM this morning to the sound of an absolute downpour. As much as our area of Michigan needs rain, I was less than happy to hear it coming down so hard and know that a morning dirt road ride was out of the question unless I wanted body and bike covered in sandy mud.
Note: This is a pseudo cycling blog. This post is not about cycling; it is about my recent trip to the U.P. with my family. It’s a long account written—as per usual—more for me than anyone else. The trip will be broken into four parts. The time betweenst each of these posts will be filled with my usual tales of crap rides, short hikes, “needs work” photos and bad writing.
Previous Paradise Chronicles:
Thanks,
Management
Our last day in Paradise started very similarly to the day before: Wifey and I got up and went for an early hike and B slept until our return.
This time our hike was a 6-mile out and back hike that followed the banks of the Tahquamenon River west of town. It was during this hike that I started to feel like I bit off more than my back could chew in the hiking department. 15+ miles over our four days plus touristy walking around is more than my back is used to. Walking is so much better when it’s done in the saddle of a bike!
I had a good ride on Friday and was happy with the way I felt after a week off the bike. Still, I found myself longing for something different as my attention turned to Saturday’s ride.
