Small Victories
Just put the last coat of finish on the cool looking wood part of the new bow window. Also, I put in the missing trim in the hallway. Y will want to paint it tomorrow... anyway... I celebrated with a refreshing adult beverage. I may have to have another.
Rode the Nishiki up to pick up the pickup. Damn... I wish I had more time to sit on The Beater today. I'd been a bit gun-shy since my crash on Sunday. What a sucky ride that was. 73 miles. Halfway out, Holthaus started having knee problems. He didn't bother telling me about it, until I looked back and he was nowhere in sight. I pulled off into this gravel parking lot, kind of looked back to see if I could see Holthaus, and when I turned back around, there was this redneck looking guy carrying the biggest damned air filter (like for a carbuerator) that I ever saw. There I am, in my (nondescript) spandex outfit, straddling a 30 year old 10 speed, looking "banjo boy" (from Deliverance) in the eye, wondering where the hell my riding partner is... anyway, "banjo boy" and I exchanged pleasantries, and Holthaus appeared from around the corner, saving me from further repartee with the redneck.
We rode fairly slowly from that point on, right up until the Nishiki fell off the side of the road, and I fell off her. Fortuately we were only going about 13mph, so it didn't hurt much. This was at mile 60, by the way. Damn.. I was tired, and I guess the crash just took the wind out of my sails, as I found it very difficult to get up to 20mph.. hell... who am I kidding... 17 was a stretch. Well, to make a long story longer, we finally made it back to where we parked the cars, and allowed as to how every cyclist needs an epic ride now and then. Chalk it up to experience.
Returning to the original thread of thought for this... Apparently, I'd let that bad riding experience cloud my judgement about riding (or I've just been plain lazy), and my little jaunt up to pick up the pickup made me realize just how much I love riding.
I have to go back to the jewelry store tomorrow, so my rides will all be predawn except on the weekends. Damn... I wish I'd not felt so out of sorts and well... hung over... through my vacation. I could have spent days in the saddle. Fuck...
Rode the Nishiki up to pick up the pickup. Damn... I wish I had more time to sit on The Beater today. I'd been a bit gun-shy since my crash on Sunday. What a sucky ride that was. 73 miles. Halfway out, Holthaus started having knee problems. He didn't bother telling me about it, until I looked back and he was nowhere in sight. I pulled off into this gravel parking lot, kind of looked back to see if I could see Holthaus, and when I turned back around, there was this redneck looking guy carrying the biggest damned air filter (like for a carbuerator) that I ever saw. There I am, in my (nondescript) spandex outfit, straddling a 30 year old 10 speed, looking "banjo boy" (from Deliverance) in the eye, wondering where the hell my riding partner is... anyway, "banjo boy" and I exchanged pleasantries, and Holthaus appeared from around the corner, saving me from further repartee with the redneck.
We rode fairly slowly from that point on, right up until the Nishiki fell off the side of the road, and I fell off her. Fortuately we were only going about 13mph, so it didn't hurt much. This was at mile 60, by the way. Damn.. I was tired, and I guess the crash just took the wind out of my sails, as I found it very difficult to get up to 20mph.. hell... who am I kidding... 17 was a stretch. Well, to make a long story longer, we finally made it back to where we parked the cars, and allowed as to how every cyclist needs an epic ride now and then. Chalk it up to experience.
Returning to the original thread of thought for this... Apparently, I'd let that bad riding experience cloud my judgement about riding (or I've just been plain lazy), and my little jaunt up to pick up the pickup made me realize just how much I love riding.
I have to go back to the jewelry store tomorrow, so my rides will all be predawn except on the weekends. Damn... I wish I'd not felt so out of sorts and well... hung over... through my vacation. I could have spent days in the saddle. Fuck...
posted by Ro at 1:36 PM
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