It’s on. As my bro would say, “It’s on like King Kong, smokin’ on a water bong, talking on a cell phone, playin Donkey Kong”. The air is slightly cool, since it is basically the middle of the night as far as I’m concerned. S’quatch and I are hooking up with the crew on the Fern trail, then hitting Tom Brown Park, Cadillac, Pedrick Greenway, and hopefully Miccosukee, then back home. It is shaping up to be my first 30+ (offroad + connector miles) since May. The plan is to go until everyone else cries uncle and falls away, leaving the two lumbering Clydesdales clip-clopping alone under the noonday sun.
The morning devotional? Bad Religion, Public Enemy, Cherry Poppin’ Daddies, Dropkick Murphy’s.
The fuel? Black beans and brown rice.
Pass the turpentine baby, Daddy’s thirsty.
Sorry I missed it, gents. My shower spouted a horizontal hot water geyser the previous evening, and it had to be addressed. By somebody else, of course, but with my supervision. I bled off the disappointment with a ride around the Myers Park area. Not the blowout you enjoyed, but it had to do.
This morning, I biked into work for the first time on Sasquatch’s old Cannondale (swapped for a GT I-Drive with a cracked frame). I know, it’s only two miles, but car traffic at rush-hour adds a degree of difficulty. The ride got the tired old blood flowing, and for once I was awake when I reported for duty.