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Curse be damned, I got to ride!
The world conspired to prevent me from riding.
Yet, I persevered. I decided to go for a nice off-road ride; I rode the road bike all last year, and should really ride both types of terrain more often. It looked like, on the only day this week I could ride, I was going to have to work late. Somehow, I avoided it. I did, however, have to do some rough manual labor; it was 80 degrees F, humid, and sunny when I unloaded a pallet of roof shingles onto a roof (and another on the ground) with one other guy. So, I get to the 6:00pm group ride, nice and early. I'm not feeling too bad from my labor. I realize that I've forgotten gloves. There is a new bike shop near the trailhead, so I go and get gloves. I'm still nice and early for the ride. Of course, everybody else is in good shape and I've barely ridden in 7 months. We ride off on the trail that runs parallel to the road which would take us to the trail we intend to ride (eh?). I can't keep up. I can't remember how to handle off-road. Ugh! A mile down the trail, we cross said road, and approach the main trail system. There's a quarter mile bit of field before the trail, and a nice hump of dirt great for catching some air; I fly over it, and having forgotten how it's done, land a bit hard on my saddle, bending my Thudbuster seatpost where the suspension bit meets the post bit. I'm not entirely sure that's what happened until a mile later when we stop for a minute. 1.5 or 2 miles into the ride, I must quit or risk major ass damage. I head out to the bike shop to see if they have any cheap seatposts to fit my bike. They have a $50 plain seatpost that would work, and I don't think it's tall enough. Faulk it, I'll drive home (it's not THAT far!), get the spare seatpost I have, grab my headlight too, and maybe some applesauce to nourish me a bit. The applesauce has gone bad. Ick. I go sauceless back to the trail, spend 10 minutes trying to make space to mount the headlight, and ride off into the sunset, alone. I ride into the darkness, and decide that it's a bit spooky and my headlight is inadequate for this purpose (quite expected). I make my way past a cross that marks somebody's death, singing "Spooky" by the Classics IV. "Love is kind of crazy with a spooky little girl like you doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo I call *pause to breath* you up and *mumble* see a movie first you say no, you've got some plans for the night and then *huff* *puff* you stop, and say...all right Love is kind of crazy with a spooky little girl like you doo doo *huff* *puff* doo doo, doo doo doo *mumble* *mumble* *mumble* *some words* *more mumbling* ..." and so on. I get back to the road, figuring to go home, and there's what's left of the group, well-lit! So I ride with them. What am I, nuts? They're way too fast for me, even though they intend to be slow, it's difficult for them. Way behind, nobody's light in sight, I stare at a white spot on a tree as I go by, and realize it's a spooky halloween mask. It really IS spooky, tired and alone in the woods with little light at night. Finally, after mentioning that this is my first ever night-time ride, they have me ride up front and they wait patiently. They push me on, I'm dead tired. Peter gives me his last bite of Clif bar, which is nearly edible, unlike the whatever bar I had in my backpack, completely inedible. They push me on. I feel dead. I ride. My phone rings. I ignore it. My phone rings again. My mother, knowing I'm out for a ride in the woods, must be terribly worried. I'm going downhill and have momentum; I'm NOT throwing that away. Then we're back on the road. As the road goes gently uphill, I can't do it anymore. I walk with the bike, and juggle the phone to call my mom to not worry. After the call, I'm rested enough to ride the rest of the hill. At the top of the hill, I thank everybody for taking such good care of me. I'm always such a downer on group rides, because I so rarely end up on one when I'm actually in good shape and riding well. These guys are always happy to help, patient and pleasant. -- Rick Onanian |
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