supporting women

40-Mile Charity Ride for Breast Cancer: No Need to SAG

~ A Dude Abikes ~ 9 Comments

Oops!  I did it again.  Rode my bike for charity.  The 10th Annual Texas Mamma Jamma Ride to Beat Breast Cancer, to be precise; my third participation.  While the ride was many things, the most important thing is that I have so far raised $1,554 for the seven area non-profits benefiting from this event.  The money will go to provide services to women living with the disease.  And, I’m still hoping to raise more.  You can help at this link:

Give here:  https://Fundraisers.MammaJammaRide.org/ADude-Abikes

Before anyone gets up in arms about the title, SAG stands for Support and Gear.  (I almost said panties in a wad, but decided it was in poor taste.)  SAG is the vehicle that roams around the course in a bike ride with extra tubes, tires, food, water and first aid.  And while the day featured rain, wind, sun, loose dogs, crashes, tutus, and longhorn cattle (not the miraculously currently 3-1 winning University of Texas football team), and even a flat tire that the SAG car did help out with a little (so I wouldn’t get my hands oily), A Dude Abikes has a clean sheet so far of never having to SAG out.

So here’s the low down on the non-SAGging breast cancer charity ride.

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My New Custom Jerseys Are Here! Just In Time for the Mamma Jamma Breast Cancer Bike Ride. Order & Donate Today!

~ A Dude Abikes ~ 3 Comments

Here’s my link to donate.  Please give as much as you can.  Thanks!

http://Fundraisers.MammaJammaRide.Org/ADudeAbikes

Origins:  A Dude Walks Into His Doctor’s Office…

One day A Dude Abikes was sitting in a doctor’s office (ear, nose and throat Doc Slaughter, as I recall). We’re talking bikes, since he rides a bit.  Apologetically, he leans in, with a whisper, and says, “This is gonna sound a little wrong, but it’s a good thing.  It’s when you ride your bike alot, it’s called ‘Time In The Saddle.'”  I must have cocked my head to the side with a quizzical look on my face like some befuddled beagle.  He grinned conspiratorially, and said, “Think about the acronym.”  He waited a second for me to figure it out.  I must have grinned back a little, because he relaxed when I realized what it spelled and wasn’t going to nail him for being a MCP (Male Chauvinist Pig).  (Remember that phrase?) 

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