Mission accomplished

The backyard maple is shedding leaves, and it’s not even Labor Day yet.

’Twas a glorious day to ride the bike in ’Burque.

Nobody told me I had waited too long, or left too soon, or was just plain doing it wrong. That I had left my wife and cat behind raised nary an eyebrow among the chattering classes.

This may be because El Rancho Pendejo remained firmly under the control of said wife and cat; their autocratic ways are not exactly breaking news. Herself has been in the driver’s seat since 1990, and Miss Mia Sopaipilla has been a key member of the ruling class for nearly half that time.

In my absence they do exactly as they please, which is pretty much what they do when I’m around, the United Nations and Geneva Conventions be damned.

The only uproar arose when I returned after 90 minutes of pooting around in the foothills on the Co-Motion Divide Rohloff.

“What’s to eat around here?” they yowled. The knives were out, along with the forks. Can a call for comment from The New York Times be far behind?

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5 Responses to “Mission accomplished”

  1. TJ Mora Says:

    Had a glorious day building stone wall here in Vermont and then went for a quick spin on the Bianchi 1999 Cyclocross. Grand day!

    • Patrick O'Grady Says:

      Well done indeed. A bike ride and productivity.

      I may have already asked, but whereabouts in Vermont? I did a short stint in Winooski shortly after winning parole from the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley. Culture shock ensued, especially as regards the availability and quality of Mexican food.

  2. TJ Mora Says:

    The food options are still limited here in South Londonderry. My blessing is my wife is an amazing chef. Only for family and friends.

    • Patrick O'Grady Says:

      We were SOL until one of my bros from the San Luis Valley came out to hang for a while with his lady friend. I hadn’t learned how to cook yet.

      Once I got word on what the winters were like in the greater Burlington area I beat feet back to Colorado. A job pearl diving at a sammich shop, snow up to the eyeballs, and no green chile? There was something dreadfully wrong with that picture.

  3. Pat O’Brien Says:

    Sonoran Dogs! That’s the answer. What no food trucks on your ride? Just stuff them in your jersey pockets, nuke them for a few minutes when you get home, and throw them at the hungry folk.

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