Grady vs Zep

Against my better judgement I did head out for a couple hours on Thursday. It was hot as ballz again, even at 9:30 a.m., but still better than February's numb fingers and frozen faces.

I've come to the conclusion that the Campeon's bottom bracket is shot. As it creaks I can feel the vibration in my feet as I stand on climbs. Then again, I guess that's what happens when you put xxx pounds of sagging, now 39 year old flesh down on components made for 130 pound men.

I got about 35 miles in, and hopped on the rail trail to get me out (and back) to some of the back roads of my loop. Served as a nice slightly shaded way to get to the climbing bits of the ride. Along the way back I almost ran over a sweaty, hairy, shirtless old man that stepped out on to the trail without looking. He sort of looked like Grady Wilson from Sanford and Son (except white). I thank God I didn't hit him, not because I care whether the geezer got hurt, but because I in NO WAY wanted feel my body smash into the old sweaty Grady-like man. Eeeewwww.

I did thankfully avoid him, but not the whiff of urine that he brought with him as I passed. Then again, by that point in the ride, I most certainly smelled like ripe fromunda cheese and burnt hair.

Then I passed the Zep mile marker.

I love the fact that some dude took the time to get down and try to replicate the Doors and Led Zeppelin logos, but the trash can just stay there. When I see this stuff I can ride for minutes taking to myself asking "why?" I just can't ever see myself getting down on the ground as surely this dude had to with a Sharpie JUST so I can show my love the Doors and Zeppelin. Then again, some of you are saying "why the f*ck takes a photo of trail side graffiti?"

Taking Friday off the bike to crank out some work. (Oddly, I'm cranking out this stupid blog post). Better do something.

Later.