Commuting to work tolerably often has helped. It's a shite start, but we have fun with it; the inauguration of a new morning filled with hazy grades and Thurston Moore.
Riding on the road has been an occurrence with more frequency than ever, in spite of the dire need for improved conditions in Pennsylvania. It's a bit easier to fit into my schedule at this point in my life. I don't love it, but I do like it.
My road bike has been serving a four year sentence in the basement since the spectacular shellacking it took in West Virginia; alike a criminal who had been shot up, treated, then carted away to prison.
It was granted parole this past weekend for a century ride that was planned sorta last minute. Throughout it all, I bested my times on every hill that I've ridden a hundred times before on my Fargo; the considerable commuter weighing 38 pounds with one pannier and work clothes in tow. My road bike is a smidge over 18. Apparently weight does matter.
And all this evaluation completed after I chased a medium twist cone with two bowls of chocolate Cheerios. And then wine and more dark chocolate.
Why all the riding? Breck, duh.
And an attempt to get another one of these-
Breckenridge is where this whole thing started five years ago. Writing, that is. And I wrote at the beginning of this year that I would like to continue on with it. You know, writing more often. That, and perhaps a little more photography. My renewed effort has been lackluster. So far, anyway.
But, maintaining a blog with any sort of regularity isn't my thing.
Assuredly, Breck 2017 will offer moments worthy of writing. But at this moment, I'm simply satisfied that it's about here. Ryanne will finally appreciate the event that I've ofttimes spoken of. And there's happiness in knowing that. The camaraderie of strangers and the intimacy of alone ascending a new route; one and the other, it sustains a spirit all its own.
For first-time friends, it'll be a thrill.
My Naked was finished a few weeks before Breck in 2012. As it were, we became quick acquaintances. And though seeing my El Mariachi with its groupset has been oh-so very tempting, I really can't imagine riding anything else this time around.
As for myself, I can't say whether I'm in any better or worse condition than I was before. Not that it matters. I'll feel well enough to push the steeps and rip the downhills. And stop for a few beers along the way.
Apparently all the single speeds are now going to be placed with the Pro/Category 1 group. Which, ok. I'll be finished twenty minutes earlier than normal every day. And for a dad with newly-developed time management skills, that's pretty much a bike wash, a beer and every Back to the Future film.
Aside from the category shakeup, those who normally smoke will still get smoked. I'm kind of in the group that rides through the spot where the smoke has more or less dissipated, but is still kinda stinky.
So, looking past my upcoming ass beating, where will that leave the rest of 2017?
There are a lot of good bands coming through Pittsburgh in the fall, which is pretty excellent. I'll likely get on some lighting stuff and photo framing. Also, dad things.
And cherish some moments spent with friends both old and new.
Yeah, that all sounds about right.
Oh, and work.
I imagine I'll be keeping up on the riding, too. An overnighter on the C&O would be nice. Or, a daylong group ride to New York. Something quick and fun; good friends and less Lycra required. Maybe two daylongs.
I may very well carry some of this into next year. I purchased the ACA Tour Divide maps, but they're currently bound up on the back of a motorcycle that hasn't been run since last summer. So, just assume I'm not doing Tour Divide next year, nor riding my motorcycle.
Nevertheless, daydreams deliver desires, and desires leave you desperately wanting. Even if you don't know what it is you want.
Except glory. We all want glory. It's everything else that's confusing.
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