Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Bike To Work Week—Day 3

Callie loves the grass I put in the backyard.

Rain in Dog Mtn on Day 2 but I missed it. I heard there was a good rain for at least an hour so I was happy. Happy because I put sod in the back yard for Callie so she could have a lawn. She’s 13 years old in a few months and still going strong, but she tires quickly in the heat. As it was a cool evening, she was quite excited to see me so we took to the park and I threw the ball until my arm almost fell off.

This morning she didn’t want to get out of her bed, which is at the foot of mine. Callie and I have a routine that requires throwing the ball for her in the front yard for a few minutes until I have to drive off. As you know yesterday I was trying to switch out my bikes and she was under my feet wanting me to throw that darn ball—and then I got in a hurry and messed up the fender—I had to bag Day 2.

Callie sleeps on her back with feet in air. She sleeps this way on the couch too.

There she was as I was going out, ball in her mouth, very stiffly making her way to the driveway. After a about five of six tosses, she got loose and made the leaping catches in the air, which have gained her fame with all my friends and neighbors at our park.

Back in the saddle for Day 3. It’s Wednesday and yet it feels later in the week. The morning was nice and cool and I enjoyed my climb and the clouds in the mountains as they were burned off by the sun.

Up on Skyline, where I climb substantially, there’s a stretch of fast rollers. The momentum in most cases gets you up to the top of the roller again, and this gets repeated for about four miles. Speeds on the bike push 30 mph if you hit it right and the lights stay green for you. The pavement is smooth, the bike lane narrow, and car drivers are haulin’ ass. It’s a rush, mes amis!

This is an affluent part of town and boyz with Porsches, BMWs, and other examples of disposable income spent on thoroughbred horsepower, like to drive all out. That’s okay because at least they’re not on the cell or sending a text message—or taking their sweet-ass time meetin’ the fellas for golf (old farts driving 35 mph in a 45 mph zone where everyone drives 55 mph)

I think I saw this 2008 model 911 next to me at a stoplight. It was black like this one. The Porsche site lists the sale price at $191,000
Gas at $4.00 a gallon? This guy could care less.

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