After awakening from my drug-induced stupor and reversing it with about four cups of Starbucks, I tried unsucessfully to talk my younger daughter into a MTB ride. Crestfallen (not realizing that she had been up until 2 AM watching House reruns), I decided to blunt the psychic pain by inflicting as much physical pain as I thought I could bear. No chatting, no stop-to-smell-the-roadkill, it was mano a mano with the bike and the roads, fully aware that neither bikes nor roads have hands and so the metaphor is almost as bad as what one might find on the editorial page of the New York Times.
But I digress.
Armed with my Garmin and two full bike bottles, I set out for what I guessed would be a 42 miler, which would exceed my previous best of 37 miles.
So I took the road less traveled, which led out into the serious boonies of Kentucky.
Although not as breathtaking as the Pacific coastline, the Bluegrass is not without it's own beauty.
Part of the trip earily was reminiscent of an Alfred Hitchcock movie, as I was strafed by an ultralight in the middle of the trip.
Judging by the jingoistic colors of the ultralight, I'm guessing that the owner is a Republican. I might be wrong about that. In any case, I was able to give the sucker the slip.
About 32 miles into this trip, I had a hunger that Little Debbie cakes could not satiate.
You can be very tired and still manage down a few nightcrawlers. They'll find their own way down.
By this point I think even my bike looked tired.
On the first half of the trip, my front ring usage was about 50% middle, 40% large, and 10% small.
However, during the last ten miles the usages was about 60% middle and 35% small, saving the large ring only for grades >10%. You studs can bad-mouth a triple all you want. I'll never part with mine.
By the time I got back the house, I was too tired even to plug the Garmin in, so, temporarily ignoring the trip stats, I collapsed in a non-drug induced stupor on my back deck.
You'll not catch me whining that life hasn't indeed been very good to me, at least not very often.
The final MotionBased tally: 46.55 miles, 2900 feet of climbing. I went out with my family to diner and stared straight ahead in a catatonic state during the meal. They seemed to understand.
And that's how I spent my day.