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.
Friday morning was spent at the vet getting Lola her shots, and her nails clipped. After dropping her off at home, I headed to the shop for a few hours to check some stock in, and then to get groceries and supplies for an evening of summer slack.
I found myself up reasonably early on Saturday morning, so after some toast and coffee, I stuffed various hunks of blubber and unsightly manly bits into some too-tight kit and headed out for a quick 20 mile Better Than The Trainer Ride™.
I have done little in the way of physical activities this week. I can’t really pinpoint the whys and why nots, but it didn’t happen—until today.
We back!
By we, I mean Macro Monday, and by back I mean, well, um, it’s back. Macro Monday is back. [face in palms because I’ve overcomplicated things yet again.]
Where did the week go, eh?
A week ago tonight, I was hit in the belly by the iron fist of a stomach bug. I believe the bug was brought to me via some tainted chicken thighs and caused me to spend the next 24 hours in bed or in the bathroom with a dry heaving bung. Alas, I’ve said too much.
[THERE SHOULD BE A PHOTO HERE]
To say things did not go as I planned since my last post would be an understatement.
Yes, I rode my mountain bike on Friday, and it was excellent, as was celebrating Wifey’s 49th birthday that evening. Saturday, I dedicated myself to sloth and outside chores. Sunday was to be a day of hiking with my camera. That’s when things started falling apart.