April 19, 1943 was the first reported intentional use of LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide), the hallucinogen (which I’ve never tried and am not advocating you do either, but hey, it’s still sort of a free-ish country). Dr. Albert Hoffmann rode his bike home while tripping on acid, Marc in the high bike photos below told me. I looked up the article on Wikipedia, which is never wrong, and found it appears to have some basis in reality. (Also, Good Passover.) I got 4 PRs on this ride, too! Not bad considering knee pain, no clip-ins or kit, and not having been on a fast group ride in many months (which makes you faster). Below are more photos and highlights of my ride. Thanks for stopping by my blog!Continue reading
If you ride your bicycle regularly, you may have noticed that lots of little stuff happens that probably doesn’t happen for people dependent on cars to get around. Sometimes it’s big stuff, like you: go on a long ride, compete in a race, get a new bike, set a personal best on that Strava segment. The little stuff that goes on, while not as headline-worthy, is just as interesting, to me at least. There is often more than meets the eye if one is willing to look deeper. Let’s take a look at four things that happened to A Dude and find out.
Before this blog began on January 1, 2016, before Sophie the Fairdale, before Sookie the Fuji, there was Sonnie the GT Arette. She’s come back into the stable because Sookie is retired due to her fatal frame crack. Today I rode her to a meeting, barbecue joint, bike shop, shoe store and then home for a total of just 12 miles. Here’s what I noticed about my new/old bike.Read more
For some riders, 4,000 miles is not alot. For me, it’s no joke, and a milestone worth noting. I’ve had Sophie the Fairdale Weekender Archer bicycle for two years this month, actually. But to reach 10,000 miles on my lighter Fuji Silhouette bike named Sookie (on whom I finally pedaled almost 13,000 miles before she developed a fatal crack in her fragile aluminum frame), I gave the steel commuter and light touring bike a rest for seven months. The other day I was asking about getting new disc brake pads, and it turns out that after a while of frequent braking, they wear out. Well, that’s because I’m riding her all the time now that Sookie has been forced into retirement. Nothing lasts forever. But while the ride still lasts, it’s important to acknowledge the accomplishments and share them with you.
Well, I did it! I met my revised goal of 4,000 miles, and I did it 28 days early. I went into statistics a good bit in my recent post, My November Strava Stats; One Month to Go on My 2018 Goals. But this number is icing on the cake. (Which I stopped eating this year along with all kinds of processed grains, and it hasn’t mattered one lick for my weight. That’s for another post.) Anyway, as a fellow rider who is much stronger (and younger) than A Dude commented that he “loves milestone days.” They are pretty special. If the goal involves a number, and you hit or pass it, it’s sort of like a big weight has been lifted off your shoulders. And if you’re wondering, 4,000 miles is like riding from Austin, Texas to La Paz, Bolivia and then a bit. Or, from West Glacier, Montana (a place I’ve been), to the Nicaragua-Costa Rica border. It’s ok, you may allow yourself to be impressed. I know I am, and I’m the one who did it! So let’s explore this YOOGE accomplishment a bit.
On the eve of the US mid-term elections, at which I will work a 14-hour day, many thoughts are swirling for A Dude. Will the pendulum swing back a smidge to the left? Who will win and who will lose? Will it really matter to the average dude? Those are rhetorical until the results are in. But I have burniong questions of a more personal nature for myself, too. How were my stats in October? What are my goals for November? I’m having a new ache, could it be related to my brake? And most importantly, What’s for supper? So here’s a short post addressing some of these pressing queries.
He awoke early with the sun for a change. Groggily, from a late night when sleep did not come, as it often did not. He waited for slumber to arrive like a spouse waiting on the partner who had to work late: restlessly. To pass the time before her return, he watched a digital video recording of thin, super strong young men riding their bikes across Spain. A place he’d been many years ago and found himself pining for. He pined a fair bit these days, to anyone who would listen. About his underappreciated, unpaid blog and book writing. Or the aches and pains of an aging cyclist. And his unwillingness to settle for another low-paying job with a boss and all that jazz, while he struggled to start being an self-employed contractor. He couldn’t figure out how to do the job without a car but paradoxically he needed money from a job to get a car. After 13 years since his vehicle was smashed by a reckless driver, a car seemed like it would be nice. Yet it could also mean certain death to whatever modicum of fitness he had, he thought, because biking is sweaty, hard and uncomfortable, and driving a car is easy. And easy is boring. Which rhymes with snoring, which is what he should be doing, he mused.