Weird scenes inside the gold mine

Gads.  This is it. The end is Nigh(y).

Sorry.  Too macabre?  Mebbe this Nigh(y) then?
                                          
I mean, the end of the year.  Not the end of anything that really matters tho.  The end of a calendar year, and we all know that time is just a construct, and calendars only exist so we can know when to go to work, look forward to weekends, and share "ggggggrrrrrr Monday" memes.

So whatever.

We made it.  I assume if you're reading this, you did indeed "make it..."

At least to this arbitrary point in time that we now find ourselves in which is is now.

High fives?

I got what I wanted for Christmas.  Clean gutters and a leaf-free'esque yard.  I made it all by myself, so mebbe that doesn't count.  All work and no play makes Dick a dull boy, so I've been riding the Rodeo Adventure Labs Flaanimal 5.0 way more than I thought I would... or as much as I thought I would.  Dunno.  I knew it would come in handy when the trails got messy and my boredom reached critical levels, but it makes me wonder what I did before I got this bike in my grubby little hands.

Huh.  How was that my longest ride ever on STRAVA?  I have no idea how long I've been on STRAVA, I can't remember how many rides I've done without my Wahoo (a lot), but I know I've haven't finished a hundie since buying a bike cycle computation device.   Still, hard to believe my longest ride never left the city limits.

This is how a Jerry road ride goes.  Very random cut-throughs and a Jerry-atric pace, which is to say, it's just fast enough to put the guy on the single speed garvel bike into the red zone quite often as I yo-yo off the back anytime the pace gets higher than 20MPH.  It was a most excellent way to spend the day, and with the brain trust of Jerry, Chris and Togie, I didn't need to know where we were going, how we were getting there, and how many miles it would take to get back to where we started.  It didn't matter... you know... time, construct, etc.  As long as I had plenty of sour gummy bears in my pocket, I could probably ride all day... if I had to... but I didn't.

Thank dawg.

I guess I've now got the flat-barred aberration that I call a "garvel bike" finally fitting comfortably enough to pound out some miles without my left shoulder crying for help.

Here I am taking my collective breath with you knowing full well that on January 1st, we'll just be starting 2020 2.0.  I'll still be going to work every other week for the foreseeable future.  I'll be unable to plan anything too far ahead, and I'll be riding my bike as much as I can get my sometimes unmotivated ass outside.  When I start binge watching sitcoms from the comfort of my own couch, feel free to come over and kick my ass.  Please text me first so I can leave the front door unlocked.  I don't want you kicking in the door and injuring your dick-kicking foot... although having to fix a busted-in front door would give me something to do.

Since I'd like to be able to commiserate with all the victims of the recent shortage of bike parts due to the "industry" wide COVID-related boon, I went ahead and back ordered a larger ticket item in hopes that it will provide enough anticipation and angst to keep me from losing my ability to feel anticipation and angst... for something. 

Here's to staring out the window longingly for a bike part and mebbe vampires...