Friday 8:00AM. I was sitting in the dentist's chair looking out the window at The Fastest Bike in the World racked on the back of the Fit of Rage. I realized that despite the fact that the freezing rain was coming, I did not want to drive from here to work only to get back in the car at 5:10PM to sit in the inevitable rush hour enhanced by shit weather traffic (there were over 200 accidents in Charlotte that day due to road conditions). As soon as I got out of the appointment, I drove home, grabbed the Fjire Mare, and rode to work, arriving 22 minutes late, but with no car ride between the big buildings and home when the shit would hit the fan later.
2:21PM. The email went out. They shut the firm down early. Unreal. They never do that. It was fortunate since the schools released the kids early and The Pie was leaving town mid-afternoon. I had to wait for the mail to be processed before I could run it nine blocks down to the main post office. By the time I got there, I already have a crusty layer of ice frozen to me.
I forgot how quickly the braking surface gets iced over on a rim-braked bike in rain @ 25°. The ride home would be interesting. My shoes were soaked as were my old, worthless rain knickers, but fortunately a layer of solid ice made them windproof. I decided to slightly detour on the way home to stop at the Common Market to see if Happy Ending had hit the shelves yet.
I got a few strange looks as my ice layer shattered while I moved about the store.
"You look miserable. I hope you're dry."
"I'm not either."
Back out into it I went.
By the time I got home, most everything hurt.
Shower's Pass convertible rain pants/knickers from Dan Hensley. Woulda came in handy earlier. Ironic. They didn't fit him even though they were mediums and should have. I looked at them closely. They were women's pants. Apparently I am a medium woman.
The cold I thought I was getting earlier this week finally caught up to me. I hopped in the shower with a beer, ate dinner with a beer, and passed out on the couch while watching Open Season 3 with Fajita at 7:45PM.
Saturday 8:45AM. The decision was made to skip trail work. The trails would be frozen, Fajita's getting over a cold, and I'm getting deeper into mine. Headed out to Bike Source to pick up the 15mm roof rack adapter that I have said about before, "If you have a thru-axle fork AND don't own adapter, you're just being an asshole."
I was reminded of that just a week ago as my Stumpjumper FSR EVO was awkwardly dangling off the back of a trunk rack secured with a strange bungee device the likes of which I had never seen before.
Saturday 12:30PM. I had to take Fajita to Russian School. Long story there. To kill a couple of hours, I headed to the library, but ended up walking on the old trails in the surrounding woods. Things have changed. The XC trails are just a faint line in the woods. The young ones have been busy though, resurrecting old lines in their particular...
Huge, video-worthy dirt jumps. These kids are made of rubber. They were out there digging. Not sure what they thought of the old guy wandering around in the woods creepin'.
Pick up Fajita, go home, stay awake for movie, attempt to kill cold with more Happy Ending.
Sunday 10:30AM. We decided to knock out the family shopping so The Pie could come home and relax. On the way to the stores, I see that same bungee cord that secured my bike just a week ago lying in the street. Fit of Rage in reverse, grab it, and return it to my neighbor Todd's porch. It's haunting me now.
I was originally planning on racing short track in order to get a ride in while The Pie was outta town, but I was hoping something would happen that would be my solid impetus to participate. It didn't happen. Something about a "seal tank." I did not now that problems with a large aquarium could affect my day, but they did.
We went to the race to spectate instead, with Chubby Buddy in tow.
Had I been happily dry in rain pants on Friday, I may not have detoured on the way home looking for liquid solace. BTW: I bought another couple six packs of Happy Ending on Saturday, got home, unpacked them... someone had swapped one for a standard IPA. Fucking hooligans.
Had something not happened to the "seal tank," I woulda followed through on my racing plans and spent 45 minutes sucking in cold air and pushing my health back a few more days. Instead, Chubby Buddy had a big day out, and he was super stoked on the experience. I love that fat POS.