7/6/15

qwik n dirty

plans change.
plans are made.

plan j:
lose weight, get 'fit'.
vive' le Tour.

Plan h:
poach three days, missing
out on the first two.

Day 1/Stage 3:
I happily embrace my inner roadie.
I love riding road bikes, smooth,
efficient and plenty of time to take
it all in.

We climbed up Reddish, which I
was actually looking forward to.
And we got to descend out of the
saddle, double yeah hawll!

Moyer's Gap is a special spot,
nice sustained 19% ramp at the
top.

"This is gonna take everything I got." - Buck


Then it rained, and we road a shit
ton of wet fireroad.  My road bike
now hates me. Everybody ended up
numb, one way or the other.


Day2/Stage 4:
Big & Schlossy.
Tony B'town & I commuted
north, catching on the last 5yrs,
following the caravan of mtb
clad vehicles.

We ride mtn bikes north on the road,
make a few turns, settle in.  Parade
up into the forest, parade some trail,
stuff the front end and bang a leg off
the bike.  Ouch.
 Long is timed section, big ups,
groovy down and empty at the bottom.
Regroup. Ride/hike to the overlook.
Hang out for a bit with fellow
slummers and take it all in.

Lunch, sketchy fireworks, FREEDOM!
Then on that first steepish slimey bit
of down, slow speed stuff of the front
and over we go. Bang.

Do I still have all my teeph?

Yeah?  cool, I still have all my teeth.
But I am spitting out blood, neat.
Really busted my lip on that one...

Typical regroup/recovery and finally
back to steady gunning slumming'
tempo after an hour or so.

Just in time to make a wrong turn
and not realize it.  Get to the bottom
and hit an unmarked T, hmmmm.
There's skidmarks, there's tracks,
there's a downed tree blocking that way,
so go the other. Left is north, right is south.

Eventually find the road, and yeah,
I'm off course. Fuck, shoulda turned left
back there, so I guess I need to turn left
on the road and head north towards
where that left pops out and wherever
the hell we're parked.

Then I made some very poor route choices,
starting with that left turn, and for the next
hour or so and went for a very long, very
lost spin on the roads up around Bryce Resort
in the exact opposite direction of where I
needed to be going. It was a long trudge
backtrack down 42 and back over the Orkney
Grade where serendipity reigned and I
was picked up quickly at the crossroads
on a hunch.

JamesK, I owe you, you too Sue G.! Thank You!

So after that 2hours of extra roadieness,
the busted lip and other additional impacts,
I was feeling kinda hollow come Sunday,
so I saw the peloton off and went home,
tail between my legs.

vive leTour'

!



2 comments:

Flagstaff Cyclocross said...

Fucking awesome.

Jon Tomas said...

A great poem about bicycle. I like it. I think you will become a great poet in future