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 proclaimed loudly (or at least typed some shit here) back in May about how I was going to start mountain biking more. That lasted about two or three weeks, and then I immediately went back to riding gravel roads.
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.
After two weeks of riding that had me in the saddle for nearly 9 hours one week and over 9 hours the next, I struggled to make it over the 5-hour mark last week. And this week I will probably struggle even to hit that. Uncharacteristically it will not be from my inherent slack but from real life getting in the way.
Friday was pretty wet around these parts. So wet that I had to abort a rail trail spin due to the heavy rain. When Saturday came around, I planned on doing Friday’s ride on Saturday; a 25 to 30-mile ride on the paved Jaque rail trail out of Clare. Then I didn’t.
Spent Thursday at the shop building Electra Townies and Cruisers in order to support my ongoing cycling and picture taking habits. Continue reading
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!
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.
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…