Smooth Ride and Broken Resolutions

For reasons I can't actually articulate (death wish, stupidity, suicidal fantasy), I broke my recently made, ironclad resolution not to ride in the dark on River Road out to Jefferson Playground for the start of the levee ride. I truly can't explain it. I even tried to justify it by telling myself I would be saving Big Rich's life because he only has this itsy bitsy, ineffectual, white blinky light under his saddle as compared to my retina-destroying, 2-watt, 5-flash-mode Cygolite Hotshot. In any event, it wasn't too bad this morning, I just closed my eyes as tight as I could, shrugged my shoulders, and tensed up each time a car or truck was about to pass. Like with everything else in his world Rich has made something of a routine or ritual out of it, recording how many opportunities for a grisly, painful death he encounters. According to Rich the record is ten vehicles breezing past in the darkness. This morning we had nine chances at being unceremoniously squashed in the road. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that it only takes one.

Approaching the Bunge Grain Elevator

Rich and I were first to arrive at the start. The parking lot was empty except for a large white van which was familiar to me and always reminds me of the white van₁ from Silence of the Lambs, used by Buffalo Bill, the put-the-f**king-lotion-in-the-basket wacko, who used the van to kidnap the Congresswoman's daughter. I recognized this van, as it eerily sat alone in the empty lot across from Jefferson Playground,  as belonging to the OWNHB₂. He had obviously started early.

Soon, we were joined by Woody, Daniel, Max, Ray, Keith N., Triceps Dave, Randy, CA Rick, and Mignon. As we were just getting rolling, Triceps Dave discovered his new-fangled electronic shifters weren't working. It is funny how electronic things require power, sometimes stored in devices called batteries, which peskily require replacing or charging. Apparently Triceps Dave is having some difficulty adapting to these inevitable inconveniences since this is reportedly not the first, or second, time he has set out to ride without being able to shift gears.

Anyway, as the group hesitated very briefly with this, Woody and Daniel sped off upriver. This development is one for which I feel obliged to thank my lucky stars because it made for a wonderful, even-paced, smooth ride of 23-25 mph which reminded me of bygone, BHL₃ days. Everyone worked all the way out and back, and while some of us took shorter pulls tending toward the low end of the speed spectrum, Ray was there to keep us honest (as Big Rich put it), ramping it up just a bit and taking long pulls at 25.

We passed Daniel near the Little Dip where he had obviously turned. When we were approaching the turnaround at Ormond, we saw that Woody and the OWNHB (whb)₄ had just turned and were slow-rolling toward the east. By the time we turned and started moving again, Woody and the OWHNB were long gone, and we never saw Woody again. But we came upon the OWNHB after a few miles, and I asked him what happened to Woody. "What do you think?" he snapped back, seemingly a little annoyed.

It was a very enjoyable ride and I got a great workout -- rendered ragged in a good, good way. Lately I only rarely stay in the rotation throughout the levee ride. Actually, I'm embarrassed to say, I just haven't been on the bike enough this year. Like it or not, blogging after every ride makes it hard to fool anybody about how much I'm on a bike. I have a web log of it, and, not counting the blogs about my one-mile ride to Holy Name Church and the Game Called for Weather announcement, a review of my posts shows I've only been on a bike 16 times this year. My resolution to ride more in 2014 is working out about as well as my promise not to ride at night on River Road. Very sad.

I noticed on Randy's blog he logged about 300 miles last week.

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1.

2. OWNHB = The One With No Handle Bars.

3. BHL = Before HL.

4. whb = With handle bars.

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