Posts Tagged ‘summer’

Refried

August 28, 2019

Mister Jones and me tell each other fairy tales on Trail 365.

Summer is leaving a few heat records behind as it lurches toward the off-ramp in a blue shroud of exhaust.

Even the space aliens are fleeing Roswell.

“Right, we’re off! Back to Vulcan, which should feel positively wintry by comparison. Live long and prosper. Or not.”

As I will never be smart, I pulled the Jones down from its hook and went kyoodling around the Elena Gallegos trails under the blazing sun. But there were plenty of other dummies impeding forward progress there, so I headed south for a quick inspection tour of Trails 365 and 365A.

Despite the heat the singletrack was crowded by vegetation, some of it spiky, and I found myself wishing I’d worn high-rise socks and maybe a pair of Kevlar shin guards. Perhaps 365 isn’t getting much use these days; I’ve noticed some similar narrowing of the trail between Candelaria and Comanche during my weekly runs. Makes it hard to spot the buzzworms until you’re right on top of ’em.

After a bit of lunch I went after my own vegetation with lawn mower and weed whacker, further enhancing my reputation for questionable decision-making. I was sweating like a Minnesota farmer in trouble with the bank and thinking seriously about ordering up a gravel truck and/or an airstrike.

At least there aren’t any hurricanes in the forecast. I don’t know that I’d care to surf the diversion channels down to the Rio Grande. I’d rather ride my bike.

Summer is coming

June 14, 2019

One rarely finds a rose at the bottom of a barrel.

The Adobe Throne is liable to be a tad toasty today. It was already 70 at 6 a.m., and we’re expecting a high in the 90s.

The past couple of mornings I’ve been opening windows and doors to let the cool morning breeze wash the stuffy night out of El Rancho Pendejo.

A bit of a breeze seems to be blowing in DeeCee as well. I see one bloated, belligerent bullshitter is headed for the exit, though the Maester of Mendacity remains. His dragon seems to be in a bit of a pickle, too, but there’s no sign she’ll be flapping off into the sunset anytime soon.

And even if she did follow Sneery Spice into the private sector, which none of these people ever really left, would it really matter, with Beelzebozo’s Mickey D farts stinking up the Oval Office?

We’re not on the good side of the ill winds, no matter how many windows get flung open.

 

Smoke ’em if you got ’em

July 12, 2016

 

Yes, I shot it through the windshield. No cyclists were harmed in the making of this image,

Yes, I shot it through the windshield. No cyclists were harmed in the making of this image,

“Do not scorn day trips. You can use them to avoid nervous collapse.” — Jim Harrison, “Going Places”

We had a rest day in Le Tour on Monday, and Tuesday’s stage looked like a snoozer, so I abruptly decided to get the hell out of the scorching Duke City for a short road trip, the idea being to scout out a post-Interbike tour.

Mister Boo requires a bit of oversight, and I don’t like to impose on the neighbors, who have other things to do besides baby-sit a geriatric dog, so I wanted to keep my excursion short and sweet. Salida, I thought. Good cycling town, serviceable eats, haven’t visited in a while, not too far away.

Naturally, as soon as I pulled the trigger on the hotel room, the Hayden Pass fire erupted.

I will never be smart.

How many miles per gallon, d’ye think?

March 24, 2012
VeloBeer

All it needs is a hammock.

I think I’ve found the perfect RV for my summertime travels. Fill the front with beer and the back with me and just take off. Got an umbrella and everything.