Ok, so maybe wearing new shorts on the Century ride last Sunday wasn't so smart.
A painful result could have been easily predicted.
As well as the painful result of happening to have a gynecologist check up scheduled bright and early Monday morning.
Oh gosh - the disappointment of the doctor when I told him no, I don't have herpes, I have new shorts.
New shorts, long ride. Wouldn't you think that'd explain it?
Oh no, oh dear, it looks like herpes to me, says the doc, scrape scrape scraping a tissue sample - OW! And attempting to charge me for it to boot. Excuse me?
The Rule of Duh.
I knew I should have postponed that appointment!
New shorts aside, the century ride fell on an incredible day - bright, beautiful, sleeveless temps, no wind. Blue sky, sparkling river, with the Space Coast Freewheelers serving all the Ryan's pizza you could hold at the finish.
Northstar and Star-Man took it easy on me. They were even ok with the metric distance. Considering my choice of shorts, it would have been an unhappy hundred!
Monday morning. Gyno visit behind. Chores ahead.
On to Publix.
The Halloween decorations are down.
The bins of bite size Snickers have vanished.
The Giant Gingerbread House is going up.
Oh no.
No, no, no.
Tuesday morning. Bike shop.
Even though Publix fired the first warning shot, it's still a shock to be face to face with giant red stockings hanging on the doors of the bike shop on Tuesday.
Oh no.
Then again, duh.
Why expect anything else?
The newest-new-guy, Josh, has been released from his fluorescent-lit cave in the back of the shop where he has been building the deluge of new 2011 bikes. He gets to come out front today and dress our bike-riding "knot-man" in the store Santa suit. At least the employees aren't made to wear it any more! (The suit, not the knot-man.)
It's a week of bleak. The weather intensifies the bah humbug mood among us employees.
Halloween is supposed to be scary.
So, why is it that the day after Halloween gives me the shivers?
Don’t you just feel as if The Season leaped straight out of your trick or treat bag and devoured Thanksgiving before the time even got changed?
Club Humbug. Meeting daily at Adventure Cycle from the day after Halloween until you-know-when. Come on in and see us. We’ll sign you up.
Thankfully, the century wasn't the next weekend. What a contrast! From perfect and pleasant to cold-front frozen. Danny Treanor said there'd be days like this!
Up at Santos for the planned 3 day camping trip, the temps went down into the thirties every night.
Uhh... maybe we'll come up and stay in a hotel.
Or just go for a day.
By the time we got up there on Sunday morning, none of our friends were still around.
"Do you think they ALL bailed?" I ask.
"After the first night." replies Popeye.
It was chilly riding, even for the mid-day hours. Not Felasco cold. Not deep-seated, bone-rattling, shiver away all your energy cold.
Not even close.
There was even a half hour or so, along about 1 pm, that I forgot all about being cold.
The trail was not new. Just that I'd never ventured out onto it before.
It begins as a single track ledge along the edge of the vortex.
(I have a bad personal history with cliffs, so if there is any shaking going on, it probably isn't the cold.)
OK, so I walked. Me on the inside, bike sliding off the edge to the outside. Sorry Killer, but I take longer to heal than you do to fix.
I hear a human generated "oooffh!" up ahead. By the time I mount up and wind carefully around the last of the curves to reach the series of ingenious wooden bridge-to-rock combinations, the fallen rider has rolled on. (Turns out Krafty has a few scrapes to show later.)
At least there is a series of easy bypasses for us folks of lesser confidence. Thank you, OMBA!
Still, no time to think about cold. Or photos.
Until I come out to level ground where Krafty and Popeye are waiting, and chatting...
...with a unicyclist?
By the time I fumble my phone out of it's ziploc, the guy is well along the doubletrack back toward the vortex.
There he goes...
Darn. You can barely see him. Nobody is going to believe me.
But hey, it's OK.
I get a good picture of the NEXT unicyclist we run into!
This fat tire unicycle is equipped with a V-brake, to help keep the downhills under control. (Yipes. I have state-of-the-art disc brakes, front and back. I still do not keep the downhills under control!)
Turns out there is an off-road unicycle club that comes to Santos to ride once a month. This is an in-between week, and our new friend is solo.
I mention, "So that other unicyclist over at the vortex isn't with you, then?"
Nope.
Wow. Two individual unicycle sightings in fifteen minutes!
Just think if we hadn't come on the in-between week!
Tempus fugit. Another Monday. November, a whole week in.
Northstar sends a video. It is a random act of culture. And it takes place inside the very same store in Philadelphia that Popeye remembers his mom taking him and his brothers to see Santa.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wp_RHnQ-jgU&feature=player_embedded
I may be the president of Club Humbug, but I do love this.
For just a few moments, no one is buying.
Everyone is singing.
Hallelujah!
Suddenly, the next few weeks don't seem all that gloomy.
