I am full on hating summer. I read some posts from April/ May when I was optimistic about riding to some springs, eating watermelon, the invigorating, cleansing sweat of a good summer ride. Right.
Taco and Sasquatch rode up in a diluvial euphoria, soaked to the bone on their ride to the park. I cracked the window of my truck a millimeter and scowled out at them. “You can’t be serious.”
“Come on dude, it feels great!” “Riding in the rain is fun!” I thought about cranking the engine and driving off, but there I was- Mr. “Never says no”. Mr. Hardcore who goes on every ride, with everybody, all the time, no matter what.” Oh, I dug my own hole for this one, and now it was filling with water.
Out we go, slopping our way out to the lakes, lightening crashing all around us. I barely took notice of it for my misery. Once I’m grumpy, damn it, I STAY grumpy.
We crossed a number of streams, where I slowed down to be sure my bottom bracket had enough time to fill with water. Once we pulled up at the lake, Sasquatch, well- he pulled a Sasquatch and waded into the water, after enlisting our support to watch the perimeter for gators, which I for one, did not bother to do. After fully submerging, helmet, clothes and all, we began to call him “E coli man” and “Ebola virus”. I know. We’re awful. The man is truly relaxed and letting loose, embracing the sloppy, wet day and all he gets is hate for his efforts.
Speaking of hate, I am really not into this summer at all right now.
Feel free to remind me of this when I’m bitching about the cold in January.