This Too Will Come To Pass

Tags

bicycle, Cycling, mountain biking, sunny days

My new bike is out of this world awesome good incredible freakazoid better than you know what (from what I can remember about you know what).  How in the world can new equipment make such a difference?  It sure seems like it has.  Maybe it is just a change of attitude, but I don’t know.

I have started taking my mountain bike with me to work, a bag with my helmet/shoes/kit stowed in my car, the idea being that I go straight to my favorite trails.  Sometimes that means going to work early with the hope that afternoon workload is light.  Thanks to smartphones and Bluetooth, I can handle phone calls in my car on the way there, any emails that may have trickled in I can answer from the trailhead and even during a break on the trail.  Planning is a necessity when there is a boy who needs a ride home from tennis practice or school every day.  Until the days get longer and light sticks around until 9 PM or so, I am going to need to be meticulous, watch the family schedule and weather report in order to get my me time (i.e. bike time).

Thursday brought the first decent bit of weather of the work week.  Monday through Wednesday was blustery, cloudy, cold.  The afternoon would be upper fifties, lower sixties with sun.  I was on my second office cup of coffee by 7 AM, visions of dirt dusting through my head, and work was going well.  The early afternoon was busy but I managed to get out of the office by 2:30, the sun on my face and the music energizing while my bike swayed from the rack on the back of my car as I negotiated I-88 on the way out to Saw Wee Kee, my happy place.

A familiar face greeted me as I unloaded my bike, put on my shoes/helmet/gloves/hydration pack.  It was a 20 something guy who I had met through a friend last year at Saw Wee Kee.  He kicked my butt when I rode with him last year, one of those single speed purists with enviable bike handling skills.  Keeping up with him had been a challenge.  We greeted each other amongst the banter of the others gathered at the trailhead.  I beamed as he admired my new ride.  The guy is one of those guys who has a number of bicycles and knows his stuff.

“Care if I join you?  Go ahead and lead in.”

Uh oh.  There would be no easing into this ride.  I would be at the front and would need to watch my stuff, keep up the pace or else have someone riding up my back side.

‘Mine’ was purring at me and she was ready.  We rolled easily up the steep, sandy entrance into the singletrack dirt trails.  I could hear the hum of tires behind me.  Focused by necessity, I went right into a zone, my bike straightening out the curves with consistent speed as we negotiated my warm up trails.  I was leaving the ground in new places along the trail, landing smoothly and in control, keeping speed.  That was a good sign of how well my new bike and I were working together.  15 minutes in, a voice behind me asked me to stop for a breather.

“You must really like that new bike.  Other guys I ride with out here take a break sooner when they ride that fast.”

“I still need to work on my handling skills.”

“Looked to me like you have them down very well.”

Just what I need, more fuel to stoke my ego.

We rode the trails for close to two hours, taking a few breaks and catching up on life, a real good ride.  I led out the entire ride.  Then it happened.  I looked over my shoulder and no one was there.  So I went back down the trail, found my riding partner walking his bike along the trail.

“You OK?”

“Yeah.  You kicked my butt.  I’m toast.”

He walked the trail back to the parking lot.

That is the way it goes with bikes.  One day you feel really good, others you feel like dirt.  Thursday was my day to feel good.

This too will come to pass.

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My New Girl

I picked her up a few days ago, anticipation of meeting her a buzz that kept me awake the entire night before.  She’s expensive, but very much worth it, her handler assured me with a wink and a sly grin as he brought her through a curtain from the back room, her quiet gaze averted.  This was costing me dearly, a sum worth nearly half of my bonus, my fear of buyer’s remorse growing as I reached into my wallet.  Lust began to rise as I took in her subtle curves, a dark sleek beauty who promised unfettered performance and reckless experiences beyond the realm of my imagination.  In a moment she would be mine alone to do with as I pleased, a mount who would respond passionately to my every thrust.  One look at her told me that she would be fast.

She has no name.  Until we know each other, I will refer to her only as ‘mine’.

There was no use taking her home.  Not right away.  My curiosity needed to be satisfied immediately, my excitement bottled up and ready to be loosed, an urge ignored for so long that it could not be denied.  No.  Her test must come now.  My favorite destination was close by, a secluded woods with occasional views of the river, a quiet private place where we could be alone to explore and experiment without shame, a playground I have visited many times before.  This first time would bring the pleasure of fresh discovery, the heightened desire brought by the new adding to the enjoyment.

Mine waited for me, naked and ready, behind my car as I prepared.  I ran my hands over her as I admired her, looking for imperfection and finding none, groaning with appreciation as my fingers caressed every detail.  This was going to be incredible.  Mine was exotic, my mind already rehearsing the scenarios soon to be reality.

There was one defect, a small one really that I knew I would get used to after riding her enough — her tail was a bit too soft for my taste.  If I pushed too hard, she might move a bit too much underneath me.  That soft tail would feel good when I took it easy, I knew, and she bounced just right underneath me as we started in.  I liked the way she let me handle her, responding nimbly to two fingers.  Warming up is my normal routine, common sense telling me not to rush it, savor the ride instead.  However, Mine felt so good between my legs that I ignored common sense, instead I pushed hard and fast, my heart beating hard, gasping with pleasure.  Ride me harder, she begged.

We were not quite in rhythm, not the best for either of us, so the inevitable happened.  She went down.  Threw me hard, then went down.  There would be bruises the next day, for sure.  Before our time in the woods was over that evening, we would go down four times.  That’s more times than I went down all last year.

What can I say.  Mine is a very dirty girl.  She makes me want to try things I have never tried before, encourages me to go there, shows me the way.  After just a few days together, she has allowed me very little rest.  We visited my favorite place a day later, after I hardened her tail a little and added some lube.  That second visit was perfection, her rhythm in sync with mine, so much that I didn’t want to stop, wanted to ride her forever.  I even shared her with a new friend.  We showed off in front of a family and kids.

What?

My boss came through with half of my performance bonus last Wednesday.  The bike shop is closed on Wednesday, so I had to wait to get my dream mountain bike until Thursday.  At my previous employer, I suffered through the last two years of my employment there with the prize for 25 years of service as my motivation to perservere.  Had I made it to 25 years, I was a few months short when I was fired, I would have had a new bicycle.  That was all I wanted from them.  My new boss was also fired by the same company and promised to make it right.  Less than a year later he did.

Mine is the first new bicycle I have had since I was married 23 years ago and by far the nicest new bicycle I have ever had.  Don’t get me wrong, I have several very nice bicycles, but I am not the first owner of any of them.  Even my titanium Serotta Legend Ti is used.  I am the third owner of that bicycle.

I didn’t take her right out on the trails the day I bought her, though.  I took her to work with me, showed her off, stared at her all afternoon in my office while I waited to ride her that evening.  Appropriate for my mood, the sun came out and the weather was perfect for the first ride.

Here she is — a 2014 Specialized Camber FSR Comp 29 with dual suspension, including an auto sag rear shock, hydraulic disc brakes, aluminum frame.  She is beautiful.

Zippity

Geez.

What just hit me?

Oh, it was just a week.

(Please, may the ground under Hillary Clinton open up and swallow her.. now.. before we have to endure her presidential campaign…. I should never blog with the nightly news on the TV)

Sorry for the random thought.

Easter.  Worked directing traffic all morning in the church parking lot.  Lots of people in Naperville, Illinois go to church on Easter.  Fixed my family famous cheese potato casserole (I’m no Gordon Ramsey).  Ate lots of ham.

Easter evening and first game of the 2015 MLB season — a glorious victory by the St. Louis Cardinals over the Chicago Chumps..er.. Cubs.  My recently returned Redbird chirped happily.  Nate and I took in the game together at the local Buffalo Wild Wings, I in my Cardinals jersey and Nate in his Ron Santo Cubs jersey.  Two fetching young brunette Cardinals fans were seated at the table next to us, decked out in lovely Cardinals jerseys.  Nate tried to ignore me as I talked to them, then gestured at him as I introduced him as my son to our pretty acquaintances.

“This is my son the Cubs fan.  Would you two ladies care to give him a reason to switch allegiance?”

Nate blushed crimson red as the two girls surrounded him with hugs and kissed him on the cheeks.  I do believe this may have been the first time my son has not complained about my tendency to talk to everyone that I meet.

I drove Alyssa back to college in Indiana on Monday.  I absolutely love the one on one attention I get during the car trips I have had with her.  Monday was no exception.  She insisted that I go with her to her favorite college coffee shop, a place called the Abbey in Marion, Indiana.  Her recommendation was the hand pour Ethiopian coffee, an excellent recommendation and my first hand pour.

Tuesday was my only day in the office all week, very hectic due to missing Monday and preparing for my trip to Georgia the rest of the week.

Wednesday started with a trip to the airport at 5 AM, then a flight to Atlanta.  I was picked up at the airport in Atlanta by an extremely chatty new sales rep.  My ears still hurt after being with her for three days, but she was fun and pleasant.  We spent all Thursday outside in the 90 degree Georgia heat working on some level transmitters my company had sold to a waste oil recovery plant.  Success but tedious.  I am not a technician but I liked the challenge.  Friday my gregarious host took me with her to a paper mill to meet customers.  Let’s hope she is ready to handle all the innuendo.  The guys at the mill were all over her!

I was pleasantly surprised to see a friend boarding my flight home, the father of a boy I coached on two of my youth baseball teams.  The company was nice.  My limo dropped me at home 30 minutes before I needed to be at a city volunteer appreciation dinner.  The dinner was nice.  Mir found a reason not to go with me.

This morning I watched Nate win all three of his tennis matches at his first tournament of the season.  He is the number one singles player on the JV team at his high school, won his first five matches this week.  He likely won’t be a state champion, but it is encouraging to see his confidence grow.

I wound down the week with a two hour mountain bike ride at my favorite trail system this afternoon.  The trails were in perfect shape.

OK.