I woke on Tuesday morning at 5:55 to the soothing sounds of a steady spring rain falling. I flirted with the idea of preempting my 6AM alarm, farting, rolling over and going back to bed, happy to spend a little longer under the covers as the rain pelted the windows. Instead, I turned off the alarm, farted, and got out of bed.
Lola was fed, coffee was downed, dumps were taken, and soon I was on my way to the trails, eager to get some soggy miles in my feetz.
Is your nubbin buttered? Would you like us to assign someone to butter your nubbin?
I’m fairly certain that no one on earth, aside from me, calls tree buds, flowers, and other plant-based woodsy matter “nubbins” (short for Nature Nubbins). However, like most of the stupid things I think, say, and write, it popped into my head years ago and never left my lexicon.
After two days of pseudo-slack, I was up and at the trails at 7 AM on Monday in search of miles for feetz. Miles were found.
Today, April 28th, is the 20th anniversary of The Soiled Chamois. We all know it should have ended long ago, along with nearly every other bike blog from the early 2000’s. But, as they say, here we are.
Much has changed along the way, for better and for worse, but for some unknown reason, I keep hitting the publish button. For that you have my apologies.
I like to think the way I write has got better over the years, along with my perspective on things like bike racing, bikes, photography, and life in general.
The bulk of the bike-oriented blogging was done from 2005 to 2013 and on Google’s Blogger platform, and sadly, when I look back from time to time, I can’t say I enjoy reading it; that’s why it remains offline these days.
There’s a saying out there amongst office-working types; “This meeting could have been an email.” Well, I think it goes without saying the bulk of my posts over the past 20 years could have been a Facebook post or, better yet, maybe just not posted at all.
However, I am a creature of habit, and this digital fish wrap helps me bring my favorite hobbies together, share some words, and have an outlet for the creative part of my brain that I don’t know how to shut down. (I imagine more stuff before 7 AM than most people do all day!!)
At best, I hope my blog can inspire you to get outside or maybe laugh. And at worst, you find me an insufferable prick that can go fuck himself.
The blog post below was the first “real” post I did as The Soiled Chamois. I don’t have any photos from the ride, but I included one of me and a 15-month-old B-Man taken a week or two after that first post. The pic is just before the start of my first race of the 2005 season (The Revenge of The Rattlesnake XCM in West Virginia). B looks less than thrilled to be on the start line, and 33-year-old me looks emaciated compared to 53-year-old me!
I don’t think I have another 20 years of this shit show in me, but until my hosting plan runs out, I’ll be here.
Later.
The week thus far has been productive in the lumbering and photo departments.
While the mornings are still pretty chilly, spring is definitely in the air, and the forest is slowly becoming alive with activity and burgeoning nature nubbins that will soon turn the trees green.
I was fed up with the lingering post-flu cough I had, so on Saturday morning, I took a not-so-speedy trip to the local Urgent Care, where I arrived just as their computer system crashed, thus preventing me or any of the 4 people ahead of me from being processed and seen in an “Urgent” manner.
Thunderstorms moved through the area before sunrise on Friday morning. Along with that came some warmer temps and I fully expected to see the woods brimming with activity when I hit the trails (in shorts!!!) a bit later; it was not.
On Wednesday, I got out a 5.12-mile lumber and felt pretty good, other than some continued coughing fits left over from my seemingly endless battle with the flu, which I contracted a mere 28 days ago.
Other than a couple of birds, I didn’t see too much catching my eye to photograph, but as usual, I did find some woodsy goodness and nature nubbins here and there.
The weekend into Monday, Ma Nature teased mid-Michigan with thoughts of Spring, but as I’ve said many times since moving here in 2010, you can’t really rely on Spring to bring consistently warm days until early May—maybe.
So, I was not surprised to venture into the woods wearing gloves and carrying around the regret of not wearing my “winter” jacket (actually a Bontrager cycling jacket with easy-to-access rear pockets, but don’t tell anyone) instead of the lightweight rain jacket (also a Bontrager cycling jacket disguised as a hiking jacket. Shhh!). At least my hands were warm as random snowflakes flitted around in the air.
Another week of lumbering is upon me, and, in turn, word salad and crap photos will be thrust upon you like an unwelcome visitor.
