Are You A Salty Old Cyclist?
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Are You A Salty Old Cyclist?
I believe I am. I believe I qualify as a salty old cyclist.
But what is the definition of a "salty" person?
I believe there are different kinds of salty people.
There is the individual who seems to be adept at the use of expletives. During my high school years, the father of a friend taught me a little about shooting and reloading. This gentleman was what we called a "dirt contractor". He owned and used heavy equipment. He was an artist with heavy equipment and expletives. He was reputed to have been able to stand nose to radiator with a malfunctioning D10 bull dozer and curse it back into operation. Having been the recipient of a couple of his barrages, I believe what was said of him. This man was salty. But I don't qualify as salty under that definition. Even though I was in the USMC and remember much of that vocabulary, I'm trying to be a little more circumspect in my old age.
Then there are those like the two gentlemen in the movie Second Hand Lions. They qualified as salty because of the lives they led, the way they lived life, their adventures, and the stories they could tell. They were salty. Alas, I don't qualify in that sense, either. Would that I could.
No, I believe I qualify under a simpler definition, that being one of the basic compounds of life, sodium chloride (NaCl).
To wit:
It has been a bit toasty here in northwest Arkansas for the last few weeks. The photo below gives the order of magnitude.
This school is about a mile from the beginning of my ride this afternoon. When I began today's ride, the sign read 102. I didn't feel like stopping at the time, so I took the pic immediately after the ride.
In some locations, the binder for the pavement was beginning to bubble up. Not only could I see it, but I could hear it as the sound from the tires was different as I rode through patches of this stuff. I tried to avoid it as I could to keep it from coating the frame. It was toasty enough that I was able to inscribe the word HOT in the pavement with the toe of my shoe.
With reference to another current thread, this was entirely a "pointless" ride, and I exercised due caution in the heat. I took a couple of breaks in the shade, drank at least 72 oz of Gatorade, took a couple of Endurolytes, took my time, and enjoyed the flora and the fauna along the way; although, some of the flora was wilted from the heat and lack of rain. I could relate to this.
So, why am I a salty old cyclist? When I got home, I took note of the shorts and the gloves.
The shorts after yesterday's ride, a little over twice as long and with a lot more hills, were even saltier, but I was shot and did not feel particularly photographic at the time.
Soooooo, I suppose I am a salty old cyclist. How about you?
But what is the definition of a "salty" person?
I believe there are different kinds of salty people.
There is the individual who seems to be adept at the use of expletives. During my high school years, the father of a friend taught me a little about shooting and reloading. This gentleman was what we called a "dirt contractor". He owned and used heavy equipment. He was an artist with heavy equipment and expletives. He was reputed to have been able to stand nose to radiator with a malfunctioning D10 bull dozer and curse it back into operation. Having been the recipient of a couple of his barrages, I believe what was said of him. This man was salty. But I don't qualify as salty under that definition. Even though I was in the USMC and remember much of that vocabulary, I'm trying to be a little more circumspect in my old age.
Then there are those like the two gentlemen in the movie Second Hand Lions. They qualified as salty because of the lives they led, the way they lived life, their adventures, and the stories they could tell. They were salty. Alas, I don't qualify in that sense, either. Would that I could.
No, I believe I qualify under a simpler definition, that being one of the basic compounds of life, sodium chloride (NaCl).
To wit:
It has been a bit toasty here in northwest Arkansas for the last few weeks. The photo below gives the order of magnitude.
This school is about a mile from the beginning of my ride this afternoon. When I began today's ride, the sign read 102. I didn't feel like stopping at the time, so I took the pic immediately after the ride.
In some locations, the binder for the pavement was beginning to bubble up. Not only could I see it, but I could hear it as the sound from the tires was different as I rode through patches of this stuff. I tried to avoid it as I could to keep it from coating the frame. It was toasty enough that I was able to inscribe the word HOT in the pavement with the toe of my shoe.
With reference to another current thread, this was entirely a "pointless" ride, and I exercised due caution in the heat. I took a couple of breaks in the shade, drank at least 72 oz of Gatorade, took a couple of Endurolytes, took my time, and enjoyed the flora and the fauna along the way; although, some of the flora was wilted from the heat and lack of rain. I could relate to this.
So, why am I a salty old cyclist? When I got home, I took note of the shorts and the gloves.
The shorts after yesterday's ride, a little over twice as long and with a lot more hills, were even saltier, but I was shot and did not feel particularly photographic at the time.
Soooooo, I suppose I am a salty old cyclist. How about you?
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Well, that is something.
I can only get those salt rimes in winter and spring. Right now down here in the low country sweat accumulates not evaporates.
Hey, but I can cuss a dead dog back in the hunt...
I can only get those salt rimes in winter and spring. Right now down here in the low country sweat accumulates not evaporates.
Hey, but I can cuss a dead dog back in the hunt...
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Old? That's subjective, but I suppose to some 55 is old.
Salty? I generally get creative rather than coarse with my expletives and put-downs, so not sure if I qualify.
Salt? Didn't see it even after the infamous impromptu "Double Metric of Death" with other demented members of the Shreveport Bicycle Club in the late 1980s. Didn't see it on my solo ride in 105F heat-index weather last May.
Don't know . . .
Salty? I generally get creative rather than coarse with my expletives and put-downs, so not sure if I qualify.
Salt? Didn't see it even after the infamous impromptu "Double Metric of Death" with other demented members of the Shreveport Bicycle Club in the late 1980s. Didn't see it on my solo ride in 105F heat-index weather last May.
Don't know . . .
#4
You gonna eat that?
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My dog must think I'm salty, as her licking goes on double time when I return from rides!
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I never see salt on my gloves, bibs or jersey. But when I get caught in a rain shower the stuff running down my face tastes salty.
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The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. - Psalm 103:8
I am a cyclist. I am not the fastest or the fittest. But I will get to where I'm going with a smile on my face.
The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. - Psalm 103:8
I am a cyclist. I am not the fastest or the fittest. But I will get to where I'm going with a smile on my face.
#7
Senior Member
Wow, I am just not used to that kind of heat any more. I grew up in it, but now it would kill me.
Great pics, btw.
FYI: It was 51 degrees when I left my house today on my bike; I wore arm warmers to work. No salt, but my nose was runny so my gloves look at lot like yours.
Great pics, btw.
FYI: It was 51 degrees when I left my house today on my bike; I wore arm warmers to work. No salt, but my nose was runny so my gloves look at lot like yours.
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Here's my take on salt that I learned from the Master. Salt preserves things or makes them taste better. When my words of actions are joyously received or are helping some one hang in there Then yes I'm a salty old goat.
Joe
Joe
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Well, if you eat a lot of canned soup, I guess you could be a salty old cyclist.