Digging Deep.
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I totally cracked this weekend and I thought this might make for good Monday morning banter. My first mistake happened Friday night when I impulse substituted my pasta dish for some tasty looking tacos….in retrospect a REALLY bad decision since I had decided to do a 50 mile Potomac/Palisades loop from Rosslyn on Saturday morning. I awoke to drizzle, but still managed to drag my butt out of bed by 6:30. The ride started well enough and my legs felt decent, and since I was sweating a slight “cumin and chili” scent I had very few riders around me. As I made the turn-around off Travilah road onto River, the sun popped out and I thought “this is going to be a great ride back”. But Just like a horror-movie-gratuitous-blond mentioning “I’ll be right back”, my day went pear shaped. First came the downpour, then the rear flat on a stretch of road that had no shoulder, then the 12 utility trucks that squeezed past me as I tried to control my bike by rubbing against the barricade. Next came the slow and tedious tire change, the shivers as my body temp fell, and the inevitable dropping of my fig newtons onto the ground (which I applied the 5 second rule to). I pushed off to find that the cyclist law of wind shift had taken effect and my tail wind had joined with my pasta dish from the night before, replaced with a strong head wind and taco’s that were not playing well with the figs… who knew? I struggled to get over the next few hills and it felt as if I was riding with my brakes on… which of course I was. Yep, in my fit of rage over the spilt figs I hand’t noticed my rear wheel install error. A quick correction and I was pedaling and suffering again.
Now I have never seen the “wheel rut” fairies at work, but they come out at night and have this amazing tool that creates a perfect carving in the road exactly the width of a bicycle tire. Once captured, your tire will follow that carving wherever it goes, even if it terminates in a ditch, which mine did. At least the grass was wet and soft and my slight crash was not witnessed (thanks again Cumin and Chili). I pulled a few twigs from my helmet and carried on but now my bike sounded like an old wooden bed in a brothel. The creaking was so loud small animals kept popping their heads out of the woods to find out what the hell was going on. I stopped no less than five times to try and find the issue.. cracked frame? negative. Broken spokes? negative. Cracked fork? negative. On my last examination and under close scrutiny I found the culprit. Somehow my rut-escorted escapade had stressed my wheels so badly that every nipple hole was cracked. Now I confess I was riding Neuvation wheels which are like the Bic pens of the wheel world but I still had to make it home the last 10 miles with severely compromised wheels, fried legs, no spare, rain, wind, and that ever present Cumin and Chili….. It was hell. I thought about calling my wife from the “3-bucks” to pick me up but I dug deep, and made it home.
So how was everyone else’s weekend?
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@jnva 25428 wrote:
Ha:D
I say that every year. I guess I like punishment because I keep signing up. This year will be my 4th MCM.
Yeah, I keep going “I really want to run another marathon…” and then I go “WHY?”
@KelOnWheels 25433 wrote:
Yeah, I keep going “I really want to run another marathon…” and then I go “WHY?”
I never had that impulse… one and done. I hated having to say “I’d love to ____, but I have to go run today”. Great experience, glad I did it, but once is enough.
@5555624 25444 wrote:
It’s a lot easier if you just take the bits of gravel out before eating the dropped food.
Bah! Would Merckz take the gravel out of his Fig Newtons? Never!
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