Tommy said don’t call him for bike rides anymore, not until further notice.
“Further Notice”- that’s one of those phrases that all the flavor has been chewed from, like “Going Forward.” They all mean, I don’t want to talk about it.
We understand. There are big summer projects to do, and it has nothing to do with the 92% humidity and the swarm of biting insects. He loves the misery index stuff, truly.
It is a defeat for the inner child. It is hard to justify spending the energy it takes to plow a field like mad money at the county fair. When play goes up against reason, none of us stand a chance. Inner children go sit in the corner.
There was no playing on Saturday’s ride. It was all brass knuckles and pitchforks for the three of us. Sticky heat and spider webs, burning thighs and marbles under shoulder blades. Grinding and churning against wet grass and softly melting rubber sloughing off along the trails.
The summer groove is settling in, and if we can ride through August, September may kill us, but October will be worth the wait.
23 road miles on Sunday felt like a century — or what I imagine a century feels like. Yes, I’m poorly conditioned, but something else is going on as well. My inner child was AWOL.
I don’t know, Guys, but I’m reading about the War of the Roses, cousin against cousin, brother against brother, and this bike riding seems a lot like a stand-in for war. Women, with only a smidgeon of testosterone, fail to understand this need for punishment.
This weekend’s mtb rides left me wanting….
…wanting to put my mtb away for the summer!
I feel the gentle cooing of a cx bike, and the breeze of promise that comes from the skinnier tired road bike.
Maybe I’m getting old…
It’s been hot/humid here, too — nothing like your weather, I’m sure, but more than we’re used to. My Sat. ride was a solo sufferfest, dripping from head to toe, swarmed by so many mosquitoes I couldn’t see at times.
Summer is great, but I have to take it in doses. I always have a dip around now.
Bike Church had a good sermon. The Turkey, Deer, Rabbit, Hawk, Snake, and Skeeter all had their say. Then Maner broke his back.
uh, I’m going to be helping Tommy. yeah, so don’t call me either.
It figures I’m out of whack. I went from wanting to sell my bikes to finally feeling pretty good on a (slow) crew ride. I don’t care if it’s hot or cold, I just don’t want to get dropped.