The clouds over the Sandias look to be answering the bell for round two.
It rained and hailed like a mad bastard for a spell yesterday, the first moisture to make landfall here in the better part of quite some time. Fifty-four days, to be precise.
The trees lost a few leaves, and the Duke City lost at least one resident, who got swept to the next world via the North Diversion Channel. Firefighters rescued five other folks from various places they shouldn’t have oughta been. Water don’t play, yo.
We might get some more today, and we might not. Regardless, don’t expect to see me loading up the woody with my board inside, heading out and singing my song. I have other, drier diversions in mind.
OK, so I’m just spitballing here, but what if we got these really long extension cords. …
Huh. “Problems plague push for electric buses.” Imagine my surprise. The phrase “One hand washes the other” was coined by some poor sap who discovered the hard way that giving a handjob with one mitt while grabbing a sheaf of greenbacks with the other can be a very messy business indeed.
Maybe some enterprising sort can just airdrop a shit-ton of Bird scooters on LA and Albuquerque. Save a bunch of money, create jobs for chargers, and give the locals a new reason to be shooting each other all the time.
This picture won’t prove it, but the bosque trail seemed pretty busy for a Tuesday.Seasonal temps, blue skies, a tailwind for most of the homebound leg … what’s not to like?
It being the birthday of L. Frank Baum, himself a scribe of some small renown, I decided this morning to embark on a journey.
Didn’t make it to the Emerald City (that derned yellow brick road doesn’t appear anywhere on my map), but I did reach the bosque, which has greened up nicely. Standing in for tin men, scarecrows and cowardly lions were cyclists, skaters and joggers.
Temps were seasonal, which is to say in the 80s, and the wind was favorable, pushing me back uphill toward home. No tornado, no balloon, no ruby slippers — just the breeze, the bike and those old black Sidis.
The roses on the back patio are doing as well as ever, and maybe better.
Roses are exploding on their trellis, the irises are going full tilt, and the lawn — well, it actually looks kind of like a lawn.
And those little green apples that God didn’t make? Well, somebody did. We’re gonna have a metric shit-ton of those inedible sonsabitches to contend with here directly.
Good thing we don’t have a Triffid. Judging by the way everything else is coming along, our little cinder-block wall sure wouldn’t restrict its movements any.
Nossir, that sucker would be striding around and about the Greater Comanche Foothills Yacht & Cricket Club, snatching up the neighbors and their pets, lowering property values, and making Republicans of the survivors.
The May 1 deadline has come and gone to declare for the inaugural Ruta del Rancho Pendejo, slated June 2-3. Bienvenidos to those who will be there, and hasta luego to those who will be square.
This is a veritable freeway of a descent, until it isn’t. The trails tend to be a tad on the narrow, twisty and sandy side.
Looks like the Marriott Courtyard Albuquerque will be the base of operations for out-of-towners. It’s close to the Paseo del Norte bike trail, which leads straight down to the Paseo del Bosque, and looks pretty much on-and-off, freeway-wise, despite a construction project to the south. High Desert Bicycles is the closest bike shop, and Weck’s is the best bet for a serious pre-ride breakfast.
The weather to date has been warm and dry, so much so that much of the state is suffering drought conditions, but you never know when those “monsoons” might show up, so consider packing a light rain shell … which, of course, will ensure that it doesn’t rain that weekend. Sunscreen will probably prove more useful.
Prone to seasonal allergies? Consider fetching along your performance-enhancing substance of choice, which will spare you a trip to the apothecary.
And don’t sweat the buzzworms. They’re tired of green chile and are biting the burger-gobblers back in Bibleburg.
The roads, trails and paths are all in tiptop shape, but you needn’t be, as Coach says the pace on all rides will be relaxed and of a conversational nature. I’m assuming we’re all hip deep in Manly Points from previous triumphs and thus can rest comfortably on our laurels.
Questions? Holler in comments. I have all the answers, even if I have to make ’em up.
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