Fat Tires Fat Tacos Fat Tuesday

Hurricane Mary made landfall just as we were kitting up. Nothing short of pandemonium ensued.

 We dropped straight to the Lake and everyone had a chance to check their riding responsiveness as we cut cross country. Cappy had a tough job RideLeading, as the crowd was nothing short of sassy. Especially, NoHandle.

We dropped the horse trail from the horse camp and then reversed the usual route and rode back to B's chin   and the guard station. We made an uncommon route selection at that point that led to riding through dried mullein stalks,

 stargazing,

and getting spotted by a pack of young'uns.

We waited, but Bambi never showed up.

After a lake loop we started beating a fast pace back to the Knott,

And sure enough the Mother was quite upset with our late arrival. While she threatened to not serve us any tacos, we apologized, explained the FTFT3 High Holiday, and placed our orders. 

The night didn't end until we had been asked to leave every establishment in Pville.

Never neglect your nappies!!

Whether on your top or bottom, it's rare that any serious cyclist would venture out without their trusty chamois. These marvels of padded perfection offer many benefits, the least of which is the prevention of chafing when long-riding. Historically, these chamois were the product of lambskin ('chamois' actually refers to the prepared skin of any goat-like animal), and were prized for their softness, absorption and wicking properties. Their modern cousins are typically synthetic in nature, with multi-panel construction, and more refined fit and performance. All this means one thing: your nethers are protected from the elements, including blundt force trauma resulting from sudden contact with the saddle. 

Which brings us to the moral of this particularly painful story. You see, yesterday I took my youngest for a training ride on the EDT. I live by, and strongly enforce, the helmet rule at home. For almost any ride more than a few miles in length, I will also don a pair of old bike shorts, as well as my cleated shoes. This would not be the case on that fateful day, and it would prove most unfortunate. 

Not long after we were rolling the section East of Walmart, I veered off trail to follow Jakob. My tennis-shoe clad feet slipped off the pedals just as I was making a crucial change of hand position on the bars. This unique set of circumstances led me to fall, not forward, straddling the top tube as is usually the case, but instead to drop from a standing position and land squarely on the top of my saddle. Once the stars cleared, and I reintroduced oxygen into my lungs, Jakob had come back to inquire as to my delay. Between gasps, I managed to utter something about needing a moment to gather myself. It would be some time before I could sit down again, and even longer before I recovered from the gut wrenching waves of nausea that followed. 

What does this mean to you? Nothing more than a reminder to properly suit up before EVERY ride. Whether 1 mile or 100 miles, you never know when tragedy will strike. It's somewhat comical to ponder, had I failed to have "the surgery" after Jake was born, this might have done the job, and at no cost. Oh well, at least I had a number of bags of frozen peas on hand :)

As for tomorrow night, the weather is, well, perplexing. While the academic folk are predicting cold, clear and a chance of light winds, it is, after all, FAT TUESDAY FAT TIRE TACO TUESDAY (FTFT3). This will no doubt bring a storm surge to the forecast. I plan to come prepared for all conditions, including donning my most festive nappy. Beads optional, padded protection mandatory! 

Un!

Night

32°

Low

Clear

Chance of Rain:

0%

Wind:

ENE at 3 mph

Humidity:

69%

UV Index:

0 - Low

Snowfall:

0 in

Sunset:

5:37 pm

Moonset:

8:41 pm

Moonphase:

Waxing Crescent

Clear skies. Low 32F. Winds light and variable

Lounge Ride

The chit chat started early. From the injured reserve roster, UL showed up at the M Lot for a send-off. He is reported to be comfortably ambulating and out of his shell. Unfortunately, blog dodgers RG and LX (XT was downgraded) no longer find it fashionable to stop at the M Lot and so did not receive the pre-ride blessing. Only C’n was on hand to pilot the fun bus, carpooling slackers B and nc to the K Lot.

The PreBR flag had been hoisted on the back of NH’s tailgate, so the conversational pace was maintained while we sheathed ourselves in lycra, wool and leather. NH was quick to claim the duty of RL and made for the Qualifier. His leadership was called into question when he remembered his truck was left unlocked. As he turned back into the Lot, C’n, abhorring a leadership vacuum, prepared to mount a coup. However, LX intervened by pulling a trials move onto the lighted EID sign and blowing out a tire on a rebar spike. We all returned to the Lot, so we could relax in our warming jackets while the repair was completed.

By 7:30 we finally were on our bikes and climbing hard up the qualifier. C’n and Ba sang snips of blues and punk and general idle chatter was a constant up to the radio tower above Park Creek rd. NH was on a quest for the last patches of snow. Too zealously aiming North, he dropped us towards the reservoir, but collective wisdom lead us back to the Chopping Block. Pools of mud marred the flume road, but the climb was free of snow. Back on Park Creek it was announced that our ride was approaching its bedtime. B and I commiserated that the ride was just warming up. But the hour was late so we raced the power line to a qualifier finish.

After accusing us of short riding, Mother Rye produced a bounty of goodness. Spinach dip with bread, chickenbake, and guacamole with chips all arrived before tacos. New sauces were savored and surplus tacos lingered as all were stuffed on the extras.