Distance: 30 miles
Total distance October: 30 miles
I got up and did the commute into the office this morning, Gentle Readers of This Blog. What joy I felt back in the saddle and breezing down the road—and often up the road.
The Old Raleigh is fitted with fenders again, thanks to Phil at Pima Street Bikes, and the clip-on lights looked cool and worked well.
Again I carried probably too much stuff in my backpack—but I found myself riding with ease and making good time this morning. Leaving right at 6 a.m., with a lovely sunrise to soften the unforgiving Tucson Sun, it was nice to ride without that burning orange glob low on the horizon blinding me. To top it off, I saw that buff tri girl on her bike riding the opposite direction—and she gave a huge wave and smile—as it seemed we were the only ones to be out this morning.
The ride up Ina, then Skyline, then Sunrise went well—my 1977 Raleigh Super Grand Prix rivals any high-end bike built today. Had there been the mob of riders, like the ones I’ve been seeing out on this road, I am quite sure I would be right there with them on the hills.
Mononucleosis no longer has that gloomy grip on me. Gentle Readers—I believe I am whole again! I arrived at the bike locker at 1 hour and 2 minutes. That for me is a good time. I’m not a numbers junkie and have no talent or patience for mathematical matters—but my commute is right at 15 miles, so to arrive in an hour or so means that I must have been moving along. The Raleigh doesn’t have a bike computer so my speed must have been okay.
In the locker room this morning, I pulled the shower curtain for my shower—and a large red cockroach jumped out from the folds near the top where the bar holds the curtain to the tile wall. I’m used to seeing cockroaches around the hospital here, and always in the locker room; I check before I shower so I can scoot them out.
But this one jumped from eye level and bounced off my leg and onto the floor. Yuck! I scooted him off and he scurried away. After my shower and putting on my clothes, I discovered he had run and hid in my shoe. Gross! That was enough, mes amis—Smack! And with that crunchy sound made with my shoe, he was dead.
I'm looking forward to the ride home--I promise a few photos... There may be rain.
Cyclists behaving badly
I'm sorry to report that I met three very unpleasant cyclists on my ride home. I was going along on the River Path, which is a multi-use path for pedestrians, roller bladers, cyclists, and horse back riders. Three young women came up behind me and passed. Since there was a headwind, I followed. I asked if I could draft for awhile and they said okay--but they really picked up the pace and were riding really too fast--and there happened to be many people walking with their dogs and kids, and several times we came close to running over people.
The girls in the front were riding side by side and not moving over--people and their kids had to move out of the way. People looked scared as we were coming down the path in a pack of four riders. Were were going about 20 mph. They were all young and fit looking with expensive bikes and gear. I was breezing along with my 30 year old Raleigh with fenders and my backpack stuffed with all my shit. They were trying to drop me...
There was an elderly woman with her two little dogs up ahead. She saw us coming and struggled to move out of the way and protect her two little dogs. None of the women even flinched or slowed and we almost ran the old lady down and she had to jump out of the way with a cry of fright.
I rode up beside these girls and said, "What kind of guys are you? You'd run down some old lady and her dogs?" They just glared at me. They still tried to drop me but I stayed right on the girl in front's wheel. I had pushed my way up and forced myself between them. I could tell the girl in front of me was getting nervous because I rode right on her wheel--and I blocked the other two girls from trying to pass me. "You ladies need to learn some manners--that was bad..." As we neared La Cholla we had to slow down--they made a sudden quick left and I made a quick right--I said, "Posers, a bunch of fuckin posers..." I knew they heard me.
Well, I may be getting old but having good mannesr is very important. The bike path is pleasant and people enjoy walking there and running, taking their kids and dogs for walks. It's not a fucking race track for cyclists. But I come across Fucktards like these cyclists everytime I'm on the bike path, and I just don't see what they have to prove.
I've said this before and I will say it again: If you want to ride so damn fast go out on River Rd and do your thing. Bullying pedestrians is not cool.