Thursday, April 05, 2012

Welcome back


It poured rain yesterday afternoon, providing the easy out for anyone lacking the motivation to get out there. Indigo thunderboomers maneuvered over the south side like great battleships. 10 days off the bike, my longest break of 2012. I sat in the Munson parking lot, feeling like a chunky man in my funky van, ready for a little Soul-O ride.

I strapped my old cleats on and clicked my feet together to knock off the clay. I sniffed around to find that awful smell, which turned out to be my jersey. I checked my tire pressure, a perfect 70 lbs.

I would attempt to write some dialogue here, but man, that never works for me so I'll just have to tell you. This dude, John Turner, rolled up and asked if I was riding alone. We easily agreed to roll out together and I thought briefly about stealing his lunch money. Instead, I found myself upside down with change falling out of my pockets before we got to the bench at the beginning of the trail. "I'm thinking Twilight will be nice after the rain." He says. This is the classic upgrade gambit, and I respect the play immediately. I am tired, creaky, and just not feeling it, so of course I say, "Twilight sounds perfect." With that I doubled my planned mileage, which paired nicely with the out of my league pace.

I shoveled extra coal to the furnace, and discontinued blood flow to my hands, feet, ears, ass, and right eye in order to keep John Turner in view. I recognized his name (not John Turner) and prayed that he was a known killer, a trail dingo of the first order, and not just another drive to the trailhead weekend warrior who was pulling my toenails out at the roots.

Halfway around Twilight we came to some agreement on the pace and enjoyed a little conversation. Both being men of the world, we traded stories of being unconscious in Spain and how we came to be at this common place and time (Tallahassee, FL 2012.)

At the juncture of the East Connector I laid down my king and we shook hands (fist-bumped.) Off he spun to finish the Twilight loop while I finished out Munson and humped it back to the van. I think we rode 14 miles in about 40 minutes so I will let you do that math.

Moral of the story- This town has a deep bench.

Juancho

11 comments:

Ms. Moon said...

I love your writing. Whatever, whenever. I just do.
(Fist bump. I would say "hug" but that doesn't seem appropriate to your manly endeavors so I'll go butch.)

BIG JIM said...

Awesome story. I need me one of those types of rides/moments. I'm in a rut.

BIGWORM said...

So envious right now. I've ridden once in the past 2 weeks. You just straight up chumped me by rolling out last night. I skipped the last 2 rides, due to weather. Maybe it was my tough guy card that got sick, and not so much my lungs and sinuses...

reverend dick said...

Well. You might have bought yourself some time by "explaining" about your time off, and how you were recovering from X, and how that day was a scheduled Easy Day(so no hard efforts, you know).

I find it helps to get the other guy involved in a long story about which they care and you can reply with one word at a time while breathing.

Sounds like you played as well as you could with the hand you had.

Juancho said...

Exactly Rev. He flipped that script on me and peppered me with questions while gradually lifting the pace. I never had a chance.

nicol said...

"I sniffed around to find that awful smell, which turned out to be my jersey" made me laugh-out-loud.

Thank you for producing that effect in me today, as I needed it.

God, you are a good writer. Keep riding!

hitops said...

When he talked about Twilight being nice after the rain, you must have known what was coming. I hope he was right. Twilight sucked last Sunday before the rain. When are they going to lay down the swoopy clay runway down there?

Human Wrecking Ball said...

Great read but jeez you guys are breaking my fucking heart. I hope you you get some fucking ride time really fucking soon.
B A S T A R D S!

Human Wrecking Ball said...

too much?

nicol said...

ha!

Juancho said...

Not even close to enough. It makes me sad to see you just give up like this. Let me pick up these teeth and you can have another go at it.