SNEAK! SNUCK! SNUCKED!

I admit it, I have a problem. It's riding my bike on dirt. Or is it "in" dirt? Never sure on that, I mean I'm ON it not IN it, but mentally I guess it's sort of IN. Oh well, that doesn't change the fact that like a meth head would rob his granny for hit, I rushed around like a fool this morning to make it to the park early for a quick hit of dirt to soothe my soul before the predicted "rain showers, with a rumble or two of thunder" arrived.

Success.

I have a ton of shit to do for the mag. But I hemmed and hauled (spelling on that old phrase is lost on me. EDIT: Pete says it's hawed. Who knew? Pete I guess.) and pulled a ton of excuses out of my aging, flabby, saddle sored, MAYBE could use a good porn bleaching, 38 year old buttocks on why I needed, NAY, I MUST, ride some dirt. EVEN if it was just a quick little 12 mile loop to satiate my lust for dirt. The trails are too fast, too fine, too "I would sell my wife into slavery for one more loop" good right now. I needed to get taste before the rain came.

So I rode.

I rode and it was the best. Too short, but worth every second that I will be forced to stay up late working on layouts, rather than sleep in the coming days. I mean that's what coffee is for, right? I swear, I will take tomorrow off. I will do some work. I will... I must... I HAVE TO! Plus taking tomorrow off will make the legs all spanky and randy for big ride on Saturday.

Gotta get some work done.

Later.