Now that San Felasco has passed most of the riders I know will let their guard down, enjoying a few weeks of relative downtime after accomplishing their winter goal. S’quatch’s hand will find its way into the cookie jar, others will follow his example with unprecedented stretches of laziness and ennui.
While they exchange high fives at the bike shop reliving their best “50” moments, I will crack out of my carbonite casing and begin spring training.
Today it is cold and wet, and not just Florida cold, but cold like a soggy winter day in Portland- the perfect day to get the drop on the pack. It will be miserable and slippery, hands will be numb and toes will be numb, but if I can just talk myself onto the bike, there is a chance I can pull it together in time for a trip to Tsali in April.
The old he-coon walks just before the light of day-