After a weekend off the bike hiking/walking amongst the wet leaves and mushrooms of central Michigan, I took Columbo day off to… um… do stuff that wasn’t actually doing stuff before going to the MP varsity soccer match with B to take photos as requested by the team “Momager.” Happy to oblige.
The wet dank conditions continue to sit over the face of Michigan like a BBW film gone bad. It seems to rain almost every day, or all day, and everything is soaked all the time. In other words: perfect weather for sitting around the house drinking beer and watching soccer all day.
While I did do plenty of that this weekend, I also got outside to hike around and take photos here and there just to keep the creative juices flowing through my big boned body.
A ride of any worth continues to elude me, and I continue to be a big ol’ crank puss about it, and fill my outdoor me-time with short hikes in the woods taking photos of trees, dying vegetation, bugs and frogs.
A crap ride on Saturday was followed by a day of slack and nothingness on Sunday. By Monday morning I was ready to take on some dirt roads south of town, hopefully before it got too hot.
After a crap ride on Wednesday and a day playing catch-up with house/dad/husband duties on Thursday, I found myself unmotivated to ride before getting tires on the car Friday morning and without enough time to ride after.
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.
Other than test riding bike builds and repairs around the parking lot and streets surrounding the shop, I have not been on a bike since last Sunday. This lack of ride time has me feeling and looking like a giant fleshy heap o’ poo.
I wasted much of my Thursday morning writing pointless words and posting photos to this digital fish wrap instead of riding. There have been times in the past where I’ve just said “fuck it” and climbed back into bed so as to avoid human contact and find escape in my dreams. But I’ve grown a bit lately (inward and outwards) and instead donned my kit, lubed up the undercarriage and headed out for a quick ride on dirt roads.
Tuesday night the mid-Michigan area got a round of ball busting storms: thunder, lightning, high winds, and rain. A lot of rain. The Cul-De-Sac-Shack’s lawn that was brown for most of the summer is now back in force and in need of twice a week mowings. Oh well, just a little added swomethin’-somethin’ to help me earn my keep. Sure beats wearing the gimp masks again. I don’t know how anyone can breathe in those things!
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.