Life's Little Mysteries

Tuesday morning, mebbe around 7:45AM.  Fifteen minutes before I need to start getting dressed and gathering the things I need to go to work.  I let my mind wander to Breck Epic...

When should I pack my bike in my new travel bag?  What am I gonna need?

The bag didn't show up with dummy axles.  Supposedly, it doesn't need them.  I've got a cardboard 142x12 hollow bit... mebbe if I use some axle adapter bits and pieces from the Topeak Prepstand X?

Where are my bolt-on axles

Dammit.  I don't even need them.  I think I do tho... mebbe not now, but in a couple weeks?

The hunt begins.

I look in the logical places.  The drawer in the pegboard/credenza where things like that should be.  The tiny wooden box that used to hold my dad's soldering shit, now my Industry Nine small parts container.  Random small boxes in the deep, dark recesses.  Start looking in the illogical places.  The hanging file folders where I keep maps, manuals... foot warmers?   The tube pile.  The box in the laundry room full of parts that I'll probably never need but mebbe?

Dammit.  8:00 AM.

I've all but given up,  and as I start tidying up some of the stuff that got tossed aside in the maelstrom, I see a dirty Mason jar hidden behind the various lubrication products I've assembled over the past three decades.

What in the actual fuck?

I don't remember ever sticking that jar back there or what logic I thought there was in sticking thru-axles back in and amongst the bicycling related liquids and semi-liquids.

Anyways, 8:02AM and I'm able to get back to preparing for my day with a sense of calm knowing that I found the two things I might not necessarily need to pack my bike but absolutely did need to retain my sanity.

So, does this explain what happens next?

Out the door, hop on the tarck bike... outta my hood, through the next one, make the leap across the most dangerous road of my commute, one more hood, hop on the light rail path...

And my legs feel really good.  The kinda good you want your legs to feel at the start of a race or a big day in Pisgah.  I open it up, and the energy levels are just there.  My meat sticks are responsive and capable of mashing pedals.

Well.

The problem I start to try and work out in my head is what exactly did I do right to have my legs under me this morning?

Big'ish ride in Pisgah on Saturday followed by no riding on Sunday followed by a slow work day on Monday?

Wearing Swiftwick Sevens instead of Fours like I normally do when I'm heading to my day job?

The end result of experiencing the sheer joy of finding those tiny bike parts that I may or may not need to pack my bike in two(?) weeks?

The current phase of the moon?

Dunno.

Last night, I had nightmares of my backyard washing away and down into the earth.  Dr Strange was there to aid my yard-saving efforts, but he wasn't much help. 

The end.