Hours of sleep prior to ride: 9
Liters (or litres if you prefer) of liquid consumed during ride: 10
Snotpacks consumed: 4
Miles pedaled: 40ish?
Miles enjoyed: 40ish? (Unbelievable right?)
It is hard to say what the definitive difference maker was yesterday, but it was my “Stage 17” day for certain. The bonk never came. I didn’t yell at anyone. I enjoyed it all, even the heat.
Of course I didn’t enjoy the heat, but…
I’m in such a positive mood about the ride in general that it would be a shame to take anything away from it. I have said before that it takes me a couple hours to build up a proper head of steam and start turning the cranks for real, and most of our rides end at about 2 hours so, you know, that theory works out well for me most of the time. Yesterday it was actually true. 3.5 hours into it, blinded by sweat, numbed from the sun, I found my wings.
Delirious in my misery, I babbled about the big naked Judge in Blood Meridian and eating baby birds as protein supplements. Despite the heat, I began to feel really good. I bent to the task of winching up the dry, broiling grasslands of the Miccosukee Greenway and by the time I looked up I had ridden the thing behind me. It was a five hour saddle time day and those are my favorite. S’quatch, H’tops, and Mystery the Untameable Stallion, acquitted themselves in fine form as well.
Swimming in S’quatch’s pool afterward (in a thunderstorm- don’t tell my mom) the relief was so complete that I got all excited to ride some more. Reapplying my soggy, nasty clothes, I pedaled home in the rain, bunny hopping every curb along the way.
# of Edy’s lemon popsicles consumed before bedtime: 4
When you add it all up I think it equals a pretty damn good life.
One of your more impressive bikrobatic moves — the clean jump onto the grassy island and off again — actually drew what appeared to be a snort of appreciation from Mystery the Untameable (& Unimpressable) Stallion. A rare moment.
without these rides….. these times…. life just isn’t worth it…..
I also marveled at one of your hops onto the sidewalk, which as I recall was well into the ride. The new regime’s paying dividends. My bonk came about the 51 percent mark, and my first cramp followed on the next climb. As Mystery said, “The ride as you know it is over.” True enough; I nursed quads, calves, and thigh muscles home in the small chainring. If only the store/shack at the halfway point had been open. Still, at several points the heat and fatigue took me so far out of body I couldn’t remember which patch of wooded doubletrack I was riding. Sweet!
Thanks for the TLC out there, guys.
If the naked Judge was trailing you, does that make you the Kid?
Actually, I saw myself as the judge, erasing the record of those who came before me.