Bar tape does not make the man

Last Saturday I donned my Fat Cyclist jersey for the first time. Since we had a lot of rain earlier in the week I was forced to grab my piece of shit, eight speed down tube shifter equipped, pink bar taped, messenger abused De Bernardi. Why not ride a bike with pink accents while wearing a jersey with pink accents and tempt the vile tongues of passing motorists to spew forth the typical "Faggot!" when the opportunity presents itself?

Anyways, my destination was my not-so-local bike shop Bolt Brothers. There was some stuff waiting for me inside the retail establishment that has been helping me with parts all year, so instead of hopping in the car I decided to kill two birds with one piece of shit road bike and ride the twenty miles out to the shop. Just eleven minutes into the ride one of the aluminum nipples in my front wheel decided it didn't want to be a nipple anymore, and it snapped in two in an act of defiance. My front wheel now wobbled to and fro, and I had to decide whether or not to continue since I was so close to my house. My two decade old brakes did not have a quick release that I could quickly release in order to allow the wheel to pass freely through the pads, but luckily the Cane Creek levers did. I popped the lever open and went on to the shop wobbling the whole way, but at least I knew I could fix it when I got there.

It's not a very pleasant ride to the shop. I pretty much take Providence Road the whole way, and it's one of those roads you wouldn't ride a road bike on if you had a choice. Narrow lanes, poor shoulders, fast moving traffic... every reason I avoid road riding as much as possible. When I rolled up to the shop it was strangely dark inside. There was a sign on the window that explained it all. "Shop closed today. We're out supporting the Out for Blood charity ride. Come see us out at Cane Creek Park."

Shit.

So I turned around and road home defeated, yet looking resplendent in Fatty pink.

Fast forward a few days...

Wednesday night I pre-wrote Thursday's Pflug Eats People post since I had some spare time. I figured this would allow me some extra time Thursday morning to ride some bonus miles before work. I woke up at 5:30, posted up my slanderous lible, ate breakfast, and grabbed my hot beverage to surf the WWW a bit before heading out the door. That's when I heard about Fatty's wife Susan passing away Wednesday night. I've never met Elden, and I'll bet he could walk right up to me and punch me in the nose before I would recognize him (I would like to think he wouldn't do that). Still I feel the same connection that a lot of us feel that have lost a loved one to cancer. I'd love to give Fatty a big hug right now... as long as he didn't punch me in the nose first, but the distance between us is a bit further than my arms reach.

I didn't head out the door early yesterday as intended. I climbed back into bed with The Pie and the dogs and enjoyed the time I had with some warm, and mostly furry, loved ones. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time.

Fight cancer here.

That's all I have to say about that.