I feel somewhat useful today. I’ve been able to advise a fellow citizen on the COVID bus re: olecranon bursitis and what is likely cellulitis, as they had a recent open wound. Another looks sicker than I feel and I advised re: the anti viral medications.
The healthy keep asking how I feel. Some are inpatient, as though I am a slacker for still being sick after two days off the bike. Others want me to go to a hospital. Can’t they just let me be sick? This is not a 24 hour bug, nor does it mean I am at death’s door.
We rode through the beautiful Blackfoot River valley with heavily-wooded hills on each side. The world is very green here, except for the distant snow-capped peaks. For pictures you’ll have to check the 2018 post, as pictures through the side windows are blurry and, from the third row seat of a large van, through the windshield is impractical. The Bob Marshall Wilderness is on our left. The home of the Unabomber is nearby. We did not make a side trip to see it.
On the bike, sometimes the wind is your friend, sometimes it’s your adversary. Putting up a tent, it is never your friend. One day my tent blew over a 5 foot fence before someone caught it. Today I had already put a suitcase in it to hold it down, when the wind carried it a couple of feet before I could get it staked down.
I helped unload the gear truck and put up my tent before needing a rest break. Don’t say it out loud, but I think I’m on the mend. That doesn’t mean mended, it means headed in the right direction. I hope that continues.
Half-fast Cycling Club 