I do not like to roll out of bed and right into the saddle. I would much rather do an afternoon or evening ride than a morning ride. Of course, I would also much rather ride when it’s seventy degrees out than when it’s ninety, and I would much rather ride in the morning than not ride at all, all of which goes to explain why, on a morning when I could have slept in because I didn’t have to be at work as early as usual, I was up communing with a bowl of cereal.
After two days of legs like sausages stuffed with jello, I was pleased to find that I had legs like sausages stuffed with whatever sausages are normally stuffed with. Mystery meat, I suppose. Still, I call that an improvement.
It was pleasantly cool and unpleasantly windy this morning as I decided I had time to ride all the way to the scenic dump again. And then I though, "Well, what the heck, as long as I’m riding the same route I rode last time, I might as well try to ride it faster, right?" I get these ideas, sometimes.
Now, as I come out of the driveway, if I turn left, I encounter a hill going up and, if I turn right, I encounter a hill going down, so I turned right. Of course, this hill is almost immediately followed by two hills going up with no down coming after them, so everything has its price.
I’ve always felt, by the way, that a climb which is not followed by a descent was something of a cheat. Cruising down the other side of a hill is the reward for having climbed up the darned thing in the first place. Well, these two little hills go up and then flatten out and that’s it. Oh, well.
I timed my departure well, so the school buses were off the road by the time I was on it. Not that I object to having sixty kids gape and laugh at me as I ride by, it’s just that I don’t want to get their day off to quite such a humorous start as all that. It might lead to rowdiness in the classroom, and I'd hate to have that on my conscience.
I did appear to amuse (or possibly confuse) a lady walking along the road. As I rode by, her head slowly turned to follow my progress. I was reminded irresistibly of inquisitive livestock in a field, as I have seen exactly that same look on the faces of any number of cows and horses (although goats always appear to ignore me entirely for some reason).
As I neared home again, something that was either a long haired chihuahua or a nutria that had been trained to bark decided to make a run for me. It was spectacularly unsuccessful, since it didn't even reach the street until I was well past it, but it did make it's owner shout quite loudly as he came running after it. I didn't look back to see who won that particular foot race.
See you on the road.