The week thus far has been nothing but adulting and slack. And if you know me, you know that me and adulting go together like oil and water. There is a school of thought among many that I mentally plateaued in about 7th grade, possibly 6th, but that is a discussion for another post.
With two days of riding, it was time to utilize my spare time for something else on Sunday. That something else started with me sitting on the front porch drinking coffee while watching in piss down rain sideways. It was just the calm and relaxing mental enema I needed. Had I known what was happening simultaneously, I may have forgone that blissful mind-enema and just started shoving beer and/or legalized in the state of Michigan herbal supplements down my throat.
Everything old is new again. Well, not that old, and not that new, but on Friday morning, I found myself riding with a friend (or anyone) for the first time in years.
This week has been a rollercoaster shit show of good days, bad days, a swell 49th birthday, COVID angst, life angst, adulting, a crap walk in the woods that yielded not one photo I liked, a somewhat OK ride south of town, and a few hours at the shop.
My Saturday plan was to mountain bike at MMCC. So, I was up early-ish to eat, coffee up, dump out, and get my shit together for the ride. Only I didn’t get all my shit together.
Given how much I hate Michigan winters, I will refrain from hating on Michigan summers. I mean, the summers are just fine for people not wearing a 90-pound fat suit and trying to ride their bike on shadeless dirt roads under the steamy mid-morning sun.
After Friday’s big, fat, hot as fuck, fail of a ride, I headed to Sylvan Solace on Saturday to capture the macro shots you see today. Saving another attempt at two-wheeled happiness for Sunday.
I thought I was up early enough to beat the heat on Friday morning, but it turns out I was wrong.
After some time at the shop on Tuesday, followed by adulting, I was eager to get back out on the bike for some meager miles on Wednesday morning.
I sort of failed on this week’s Macro Monday. But I guess that sort of depends on your definition of macro, and just how close you need to be. What I’m trying to say is that this post contains some “close-ups” but an actual “macro lens” was not involved. Hairs have been split for the good of the internet.