Knobs To Pavement

I went out to my Dads' digz today with B-Man. B-Man did his "thang" with my Dad and his cousin (his "thang" being having fun) and I went out on the Mamasita (continuing to shun my road bike) and did 30+ miles on the road as well as hit some dirt in the local Game Lands.

The ride was titz. I felt good, the weather was crisp, cool and sunny and there was hot chicken chili that my seestor made waiting for me when I got back. Like I said- "titz."

"Little Fluffy Clouds" (as The Orb would say)

Coming up from a long climb in the Game Lands there was some kat in the parking lot smoking a cigarette by his motorcycle. He sees me and says "Hey man, did you just ride the whole way up from the creek? That must have HURT." To which I said "It's really not that bad." (like I was talking to one of us.)

What I wanted to say was "If you don't f*cking smoke it's even easier! Now stop using the Game Lands for your area to chill out and smoke a cancer stick and get out and do something!!" But of course I didn't. I was just happy he was friendly and pedaled on happy with the joy that even the loosest forms of fitness can bring.

The further I got back in the Game Lands and closer to the train tracks and creek the worse I felt about being alone, in Lycra. This is prime pissed off, people different than us suck, red neckian territory. The perfect place to be stripped naked, gagged, and left for dead by drunk ya-hoos. Not that I'm stereotyping or anything. But if the high top Reebok fits...

Soon it was back to the road, and more miles to go before I would taste the spicy, chickeny goodness of hot chicken chili. But a nice day in the saddle and a nice way to spend close to 2:30 on a Sunday. God bless the bike!

Later.