Tag Archives | Gravel

Bugs and Bloat

Where did the week go, eh?

A week ago tonight, I was hit in the belly by the iron fist of a stomach bug. I believe the bug was brought to me via some tainted chicken thighs and caused me to spend the next 24 hours in bed or in the bathroom with a dry heaving bung. Alas, I’ve said too much.

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Adulting, Colts, N’at

As the last week of being Not Really Quarantined winds down (for now), and most shit opens back up (except my goddamn barber!) this coming Monday, my week was filled with adulting. My outdoor activities were limited to a quick ride on Monday morning, a short walk around the Sylvan Solace with my camera for an hour on Wednesday (while getting eaten alive by mosquitos), and a 25-mile dirt road ride on Saturday afternoon.

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The Last in a Series


“I can go out. I can go in.
Out. In.
Out. In. In. Out.
Out. In.”

– Hawkeye Pierce, M*A*S*H

I wrote the first edition of The Quarantine Chronicles 80 days ago today. With Monday’s announcement from my girl G.W. lifting the Stay at Home order for Michigander’s, I have decided that this will be the last post in the series.

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Missed Connections


“I must be ill.” – Withnail

I know it’s wrong to talk of illness in the throws of a global pandemic, but given my two-year on/off relationship with my bike, for me to ride three out of the past four days must mean I’m ill. In an awesome, it feels good to sweat, slobber, pant, and wake up sore sort of way. Cheez-Its H. Rice, that made it sound like I was having sex with a bear. A bear, not a “bear.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

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Two For One


I woke up Friday morning to a light dusting of snow on the ground (Welcome to Michiganderburgh). Thankfully that would soon melt off, but the temps would never get above 40˚, and the wind was coming right from the Witch’s nip tip. In other words, it was a good day to head out for a woodsy walk with my camera.

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Stuffing & Oozing


Mere seconds after I pushed the PUBLISH button for yesterday’s word salad, my want to ride my bike went from a lowly “I’m Going Back To Bed,” 2, to a “Where are Those Silly Clothes I Stuff Myself Into to Ride My Bike,” 10. Not sure where that came from, but it did. So I rode.

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