It’s been a cold, wet spring here in Hoosier-ville, which isn’t too conducive to riding on trails. The Wabash has been riding high for weeks, making for some road rides that can lead one to feeling like they’re riding by lakes where this summer there will be corn.
Last Friday afternoon we had sunshine, so I made way down I-65 towards Indy and cut across 865 to 465 and over to 96th Street to turn some laps at Town Run. It’s an interesting spot to this native PA-rider, interesting being defined as: locals that range from spandex-clad, race-training, lean as a cool pop, mtbers seeking that sub-30 minute lap on the 7 + mile circuit to the recreational boyfriend/girlfriend pedaling along in bliss without helmets on.
Me. I’m somewhere in between, maybe something like in love with the bike/trail/body/flow while spinning the tires at a pace that makes me spit from breathing a little on the winded side.
First lap: 32 minutes and some change.
Second lap: 30 minutes and a few nickels of change.
And I wasn’t wearing spandex.
Haiku for Obama
You released memos
Greatest country tortures lives
What will you do now
Saturday came and with it, more good weather. Off to ‘poo I went. Kickapoo State Park off I-74 (midwestern mtbing theme: gotta get on the interstate to get to the trails) a little west of Danville, IL serves up a nice 10 + mile loop that Blago tried to shut down, along with many other state parks in the state.
He failed at that too.
A few turns and climbs into the ride I came upon some mushroom hunters. Morels are the springtime delicacy in these parts. Ma said they found two, and later on a guy whose T-shirt interrupted my adaption of Phish singing
The tires are the things on the [bike] that make contact with the [trail]
by announcing that he was “Property of Jesus” told me that it’s still a week too early.
I’m certain Jesus is down with his flock searching for mushrooms in the forest.
Lap 1 done. Lap 2. I was done, almost.
I nearly bonked. Riding too hard? Didn’t refuel well after the Town Run ride? Twenty pounds lighter means maybe not enough fat reserves?
Remedy. I bought Chubby Hubby last evening and ate my first Ben & Jerry’s since pre-Ethiopia 2005 journey. Rationalization: If I’m going to up the mtb-ing again now that I have cash to burn the gas and flare up the global economy/crisis/wars, I need more fat in my diet.
Time to sign off. American Idol is coming on. It’s disco night, and I can’t wait to see what Adam pulls off this week.
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