Yesterday I bundled up to take the trash out. I hadn’t left the house or looked out a window yet, it was around 1:30 P:M, so you know, it was just about time to roll out of bed and get to work. I opened the door and a flood of amber sunlight pierced the dusty gloom of my living room. Sweat beaded upon my expansive brow. Deep within the carbonite casing, my heart began to beat slowly. Thump, Thump, Thump! I experienced the strangest desire to go for a bike ride. Hmmm, I thought I had given that nonsense up? I hadn’t pedaled an honest stroke since Oak Mountain on November 17. The drunken midnight ramblings at the Pole Barn didn’t count for much, at least not by anyone but the law.
I stretched my knees and listened to the carbonite crack off of them. I picked up a helmet, a shoe here another shoe somewhere. A couple of mis-matched socks and a call to the Tally Flasher, and I had a bona fide rope gun to lead this ride.
A quick flip through the internal I-pod and cue Teenage Wasteland, perfect!
I’ll be damned. I still like to ride this thing, and I don’t even feel that bad, or fat, or slow, just a little bit of all three of those things, but not a lot of any one.
Now I realize that I have agreed to lead a ride Sunday morning that will be particularly long for our area average (30-40 mixed singletrack, road, doubletrack, etc.) on what will likely be a very cold morning. 9:00 A:M at All Saint’s Cafe should you be inclined. The ride will feature some All-Star veterans so I hear, and I ain’t talking about the Juancho.
Where did I put my cozy carbonite sleeping brick? I want to crawl back inside it. Wake me up when the gravy has thickened.
On other fronts-
Big Worm is totally, practically fired. I bet I can get the Human Wrecking Ball to take over for 1/2 the cost. How’s that sound? “Ask the Human Wrecking Ball?” Of course, he was never a mechanic like Big Worm, and his own life is a shambles of broken dreams and empty promises, but still- a bargain is a bargain right?
Trav’ler Report: Dr. Detroit, frequent acerbic commentor, and his lovely wife Professor Slaw, breezed through town with baby Danny, a little Irish bundle of joy. Now they are back in De’twah sniffling and cold. Thanks for stopping in guys!
Mel (Not his real name) will arive from NYC on Sunday night for those of you who would like to see him, or collect on old debts, come on over. He will be staying at the Ringmaster’s suite. He is not bringing his new Titus Racer X. Why? Because he’s chicken of course. Bawk, bawk, bawk!
And that’s about enough of this,