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!
I’ve been sleeping like complete shit as of late. Even taking my regular dose of sleep medicine leaves me tossing, turning, bloated, and gassy. OK, the bloated and gassy part is pretty normal, but the tossing and turning could stop any time now.
I know over the span of Operation Boozeless™ (which is in day 26 of a self-imposed 28 booze ban, thank you very much) I’ve been drinking more caffeine in the form of coffee and Pepsi Zero Sugar, but I usually stop by noon or so. Yesterday I was up at 6 AM and then worked 8.5 hours at the shop slinging bikes and STILL couldn’t fall to sleep. I really don’t know why I’m talking about my lack of sleep. I should probably move on. Yes, I’ll move on—I rode my bike today.
Wednesday I got out for a quick 22.5-mile ride north of town, mostly on dirt roads. It wasn’t that long, but I was happy to squeeze something in between all the soccer practice drop-offs/pickups, a doctor’s appointment, and other duties. I was in a hurry, and I’ve pretty much exhausted every photo-op on my Standard North Loop, so there ain’t much today.
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!
My back was killing me last night, and even after taking my nightly dose of ZZZQuil I still had the jimmy legs from too much caffeine through the day. As a result, I slept like shit and was in no mood to climb out of bed early today. Wifey was up around 6:45 for work and I usually follow her a few minutes later. That was not going to happen today.
I worked at the shop on Monday so of course I came home with a sore back, sore feet and peopled the hell out. As my grandmother always said: “It’s hell getting old.” And as I’ve always said: “I hate people.” I seriously don’t know how full-time shop employees do it without losing their minds and end up never wanting to ride their bike again.
It’s been said that 58.2% of all bike shop customers are insane. 39% of bike shop customers are calling or stopping in shops attempting to buy or obtain free things that have little to nothing at all to do with cycling. And 40% of all customers expect their bike repaired while they wait or by the next day during the busiest time of the year.
I could go into detail about some of the amaze-ball fucked up shit I’ve seen and heard recently, but that really wouldn’t be professional and would violate the Customer/Bike Shop Buffoon Confidentiality Act (C.B.S.B.C.A.) that was passed by a high-ranking, strong-armed, lawyered-up group of dealer/shop officials at Interbike 2007. So I’ll just move on. I will say that bike shops are top-notch weirdo magnets, much respect to those who own or work full-time in shops and have to deal with people every day. People are the worst… except for the good ones.
On to Tuesday…
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.
Click HERE for Part I of the series and HERE for Part II.
Thanks,
Management
After two days of hiking in the wet woods battling bloodthirsty mosquitos, we promised B that he could sleep in and chill on Monday morning while Wifey and I went for a 4-mile hike on some trails right outside of town.
