A 50-Mile Bike Ride, Longest of 2021 (So Far)

I rode my bike for half a century (50 miles) on a recent sunny Sunday, the details of which you can see on Strava. Especially if you’re the sort who needs some proof. Or just don’t believe that guy who’s in the same decade of years as miles, with an extra amount of weight, can do that. Although it was challenging given my condition(s), it wasn’t so brutal that I was wrecked the next three days. It’s no work of art (well, the Strava map kinda is), but this snippet of dialog from Seinfeld sums it up well:

Lois:  Have you designed any buildings in New York?
George Costanza:  Have you seen the new addition to the Guggenheim?
Lois:  You did that?
George Costanza:  Yep. And it didn't take very long either.
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Bicycle Night Ride with a Friend in Austin, Texas

Autumn in Austin has been pretty spectacular thus far. Little rain, warm temperatures, and sunny skies. While the dryness isn’t good for plants or the water supply, it is good for bicycling. As the coronavirus pandemic continues for the eighth month (stay at home shelter orders began here in March), getting outside for some fresh air and sunshine have been essential for staying healthy and sane. Most of my rides are solo, but I’ve had the good fortune of being joined by several friends. One such ride the other night was fairly routine for me but pretty good for one of my dudes.

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Arbitrary Assortment of Aspects About A Dude Abikes

Sometimes no clear theme comes to mind, so I cobble together some random thoughts and hope they’re interesting. This is one of those times. Here are the previous similar entries to get you good and warmed up. Or to come back to after reading this one:

Interspersed are some photos from a 30-miler I did this weekend, most of it with good old pal Rhodney.

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Write What You Know, In My Case, Bike Stuff

Teaser: This was going to be a book review. But I haven’t finished it yet. It’s a good one, too. When I do, I’m sure it will be awesome. Or adequate, or astute, or any number of other adjectives commencing with an “a.” One of those. I think; I don’t know this. But today, it’s not about a book, it’s about what I know. Whatever the hell that is. These days, it’s hard to really know what one knows. Ya’ know? I guess after a few years of biking my butt off, I do know a few things about bicycles, cyclists, biking, and the like.

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Photographs and Memories: A Weekend in the Biking Life in Austin, Texas

Like many people in the modern era who are privileged enough to have a smart phone, electricity and mobility, I take a lot of pictures. Some good, some not, a few great. Who’s to say, though? If you like them, great. If not, move along. Trouble is, I don’t use that photo platform named after your grandmother, so when I’m riding my bicycle and take a pic, it goes either here, on my Strava fitness app (follow me there if you’re a bikester) or doesn’t see the light of day. Occasionally I post a blog with a lot of photos and some words to explain them. This is one of those times. Enjoy the whole “picture paints a thousand words” thing, yada yada.

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The City Cyclist’s Friend: Convenience Store Clerks

After another convenience store stop to refill my water bottle with ice and water, have an indoor nature break, and to refuel, I began thinking about the modern day oasis. There’s many a night when I feel the need, the need for speed (or at least my slow version of it) and also get hungry, in other words, have a snack attack. Plus, I simply must get out of the Texas heat and humidity, and these little shops fit the bill. It occurred to me that these places and the people who run them are an important and overlooked part of the biking experience. The clerks, often young from India, Bangladesh, Mexico, and many other places play a crucial role for the bike casual rider and weekend warrior alike. So I thought it was high time to sing their praises.

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10 Days of Walking and Hanging with Missy, the Cattle Dog

Returning readers will recognize that from time to time, A Dude is called upon to care take some animals. There has been Buddy Willis, Juniper and now Missy. When a friend offered me the opportunity to get away from the near-nightly next-door neighbors unsanctioned cantina. They serve beer and play loud northern music from south of the border (yes, that border, I’m in Texas), I jumped. There was also a house, seven chickens (all you can eat eggs!), and plenty of tell-oh-viz-yun. As for the dog, she was a handful, a piece of work, and a real character. So let me tell you a few things and show you some pictures of Missy, the Cattle Dog.

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