Friday’s northwesterly wind moved gradually south, so Saturday it was southwesterly. I rode out of town with (some of) the Western Division of the half-fast cycling club. Once we hit the next town, we stopped for coffee before heading farther west. With no place to eat at our westernmost spot we headed back and ate lunch in the same coffeeshop where we’d had late morning coffee. By afternoon I took the armwarmers off. We heard no spring peepers (maybe all the water we passed was too deep) but the sandhill cranes were out and about.
On Sunday we headed south. Our Fearless Leader was from the Eastern Division of hfcc. This being a club ride (by an actual, official club with membership dues and everything, not some half-fast bunch of poseurs), there were at least 50 people along. The club was springing for coffee and pastries at the southern terminus, which may have accounted for the crowd – that, and it was already warm at 7 AM. When I passed the traffic marker at 9:15 on the way to the ride start, 200 bikes had already been past. By the afternoon another 1200 had gone by.
By the time we were back in town it was 80º (~27º C) so I added a few extra miles after we got back to the meetup point. The spring peepers were out in force. Riding through the arboretum, magnolias were in bloom (though past their prime), some of the flowering crabs were blooming, and the aroma of the recent prairie burn was stronger than either. I had to get off the bike to smell anything but ash (and I don’t mean tree). Maples are in bloom, so syrup season is long past.
It must be spring, as Monday marked the fourth consecutive day of getting out of town on a bike. Cleaning our adopted highway came first, with a ride as a reward.
And I lie – or at least failed to follow that plan. I must be getting old. By the time I finished picking up trash I was beat. Even in my favorite place, I didn’t feel like riding. I compensated for feeling old by opening the windows and sunroof and playing loud music on the way home. It was my first time this year back to the scene of the crime – where I was ruthlessly attacked by a tick last summer, but didn’t know it for 6 weeks. I wore long pants, shoes, and socks today, even though I ventured only a short distance from the roadside. Tick check when I finished and again when I got home.
In trash news, beer bottles seem to be making a comeback – while many craft brewers have switched to cans, many litterers switched to bottles over the winter.
I had follow up labs this morning to make sure I have recovered from last summer’s adventure. I thought I had, though I still occasionally lose my voice. Results trickled in as I worked. My hematocrit is still on the low end of normal. Is that why I got short of breath lugging a bag of trash up and down hills today? I could use more sodium and potassium. Burgers and plantains are on the menu. Basically, I’m fine. I rode 135 miles over the last three days.
And finally, this is for a dear friend, from whom I just heard bad news.
Half-fast Cycling Club 