Tonight, everything below my waist is a tad, ted, tid, tod, and tud achy. Yes, I went out and biked another 40 with the boys and the girls today.
As I was biking around beautiful places that I’d never been before, I was thinking that it was official. This week, I had given up on ever getting another job, and since I started biking with Bob and Bill, I decided that, like them, retirement was my new way of life. Okay, not really, but this spending time with your kids, not stressing out about work pressures, and cycling 40 miles a day is something I could get used to. Note to Self: Stop looking for “technical writer” jobs and start looked for “Kept Woman” jobs. :-)
I met Bill on the rail trail at 9:30 this morning. We waited about 5 minutes for any other potential cyclists; these potentials would be Jeff (who hadn’t shown up to ride since he deemed me “catchable,” scaredy cat!) and Jim. Apparently, Jeff had just bought a new crapp, err, “used” bike. “Used” was how Bill was now referring to Jeff’s bikes, as perhaps he had a think and felt he was being a tad too hard on Jeff’s bike budget. Jeff had wanted to bike with us, but his “used” bike needed new tires. He tried to put the tires on, and one of them blew, and there were various other issues with his new “used” bike. At this point, this “used” bike was sounding pretty crappy to me. And finally, Jim, who was supposed to bike with us yesterday, because his rotator cuff surgery had been postponed, had not been heard from since.
Other potentials, who would meet us elsewhere, were Leigh and Lisa. Leigh wanted to ride with us, but she had made plans to cycle with her friend, Allison. Bill said that Allison used to be a fast cyclist, but she had somehow let herself go and was now a casual cyclist averaging 11 or 12 miles per hour. Leigh, wanted to get out of the cycling date, if she could, and ride with us, so she was a “maybe.” Lisa, the truck driver, was definitely coming, but when and where we’d meet her was still TBS.
Bill and I headed down the rail trail at 9:35. As we biked along, Bill chatted away as usual, which I love, because when I’m at home, I spend most of my time chatting with Liam (the cat) and Monty (the dog); it was nice to have an actual human to listen to and exchange conversation with.
After we crossed Broadmeadow Street, Jim’s cell phone rang. He said to me, “I better get this.” Bill stopped, and I stopped about 50 yards ahead of him. He chatted for a bit, and then put his cell back in his little pack. Apparently, Jim was out biking on his own yesterday and was in a terrible crash. He had a major case of road rash, took “most of the meat off of his shoulder right down to the bone” (or something equally ghastly like that), and he was now in a world of hurt. Bill said he was biking on the rail trail when this occurred.
Bill had told me yesterday that all the bad accidents happen on the rail trail. Bill had broken his pelvis on the rail trail in 2004; he was in the hospital for 26 days and missed 11 months of work. I was puzzled, because the only accidents I had been close to having on the rail trail were ones that, um, were my fault – like cycling while taking movies of yourself. Don’t try this at home or on a rail trail!
Bill and I got back on our bikes and continued to the destination point, which was the end of the rail trail in Nashua. Five minutes later, his cell phone rang, and we stopped again. After he hung up, he announced to me that it was Lisa, and she was on the trail in Pepperell. We would meet her somewhere along the way. Ah, Lisa! The truck driver! I really wanted to meet her. Bill told me that he couldn’t kid Lisa about her helmet anymore. Like me, she had a blue helmet, and Bill had always told her that he could identify her by her blue helmet. Well, I have one that same color, so now Bill knew two women with blue helmets. Note to Self: It’s now time to get that pink Hello Kitty helmet you always wanted. (And, I already looked online; they only make them for kids. No fair!!!)
Ten minutes later, Bill said, “There she is!” We stopped, and Bill introduced us. She and Bill chit-chatted, and then Lisa responded to something Bill said by saying, “Shit!” Okay, so she swore once; she really didn’t seem like she had much of a truck driver’s mouth to me. Bill had told her that I had met Bob, and she said, “Oh, watch out when he tells you he’s got a chipmunk down his pants” or something like that! I was getting the distinct feeling that Bob liked the girls…a lot.
She then complained about how cool it was. The weather here the last week or so has been hot and humid; it was very cool and dry this morning, almost like a Fall day. Lisa then asked Bill, “Can we get off the trail and get into the sun? I’m cold!” Then Bill said to Lisa, “Oh, don’t be a pussy!” At that point, I wondered who was really the truck driver – Lisa or Bill!
We all got on our bikes and headed off, hoping to bump into Bob somewhere along the way. When almost to the parking lot, Bill said, “Well, now is the time we should be seeing Bob if he’s around.” As we biked by the parking lot, Bill said, “There he is!” Bob was unloading his bike from his car.
While we all waited for Bob, a woman, who had a mountain bike on the back of her car, came over and said to Bob, “Excuse me. But, does the trail over there go for a ways and is it all dirt?” Bob said, “Yes. You follow it down, but you need to take a right by the abandoned barn….” As Bob spoke to her about the trail, Bill moved himself over toward me and said, “This is where he tells her he’ll show her the back roads if she’d like!” I giggled. Apparently, this was Bob’s “pick up” line, but as far as I could tell, he was happily married, and he just liked to be around women.
After the woman walked back to her car, satisfied that she would not be biking unknown territory, Bill repeated what he had said to me to Bob. Bob leaned over to me and said, “Charisma!” I said, “I can see you have that, and it’s quite subtle, too!” We all laughed. Bob asked where we’d like to ride, and Lisa was quick to say that if we were riding to Florida that she would not like to go by way of Alaska. Bob said, “Okay, I know where we’ll go,” and we were off.
At one point during the ride, it became apparent to me that, well, we were going around in an infinite cycling loop. We stopped at one point, and Bill asked Bob if he knew where he was going. Bob claimed that he took a left when he wanted to take a right, or was it that he took a right when he wanted to take a left? Either way, we were going in circles, and I was beginning to feel like I was starring in the movie, “Groundhog Day.” Lisa then asked Bob if he was (think Massachusetts accent here) having a “brain faaaaaaaaht.” I smiled and thought, “God, what a lovely group of characters I was fortunate enough to stumble upon!”
AND, talk about a small cycling world, at one point, we went to take a right (before Bob really figured out where we were going), and who should be cycling up the road but Leigh. And, some of you think I do a lot, well, Leigh was just biking back from a Pilates class, decided to bike with us for a bit, and then she was going to go home and cycle with her daughter. Okay, who’s the crazy one now? Not me; it’s Leigh!
After a think, Bob finally got his internal GPS straightened out (at least, we weren’t in Miami, Steve!), and the plan to get us back on the straight and narrow involved biking to Leigh’s house. Leigh and I took off, and Leigh mentioned casually that this meant we would be cycling up a massive hill by her house; oh, I couldn’t wait for that. She then said you’re probably going to have to use your “triple,” and though I didn’t speak, I said to myself, “My what??!?!!?” Remember: I just ride the bike and ride it well; I don’t “get” the bike nor do I ever want to, even though I LOVE my Greg Lemond Buenos Aires to bits. Are you reading my blog now, Greg?!
When we reached Leigh’s, her daughter was out in the driveway with another friend. This black cloud of smoke wafted into the street, and I then smelled this terrible odor. I asked, “What is that?” She said, like it was what most teens did on a Thursday morning, “Oh, she’s making a pair of sandals out of rubber.” I said, “Oh. I think I’m going to have to move up the street [and I didn’t mince words here, because it was bad], because I think I’m going to puke if I have to smell that much longer.” She then yelled at her daughter to cease and desist; however, it was too late, as I was already 200 yards up the street.
About 5 minutes later, Bob and Bill showed up. What happened to Lisa? Lisa decided to turn around, because we when first met her this morning, she said she woke up feeling a tad under the weather. And, then there were four.
We all headed off, and within 5 minutes, we were facing that massive hill Leigh warned me about. Bob, as usual, said, “See you at the top!” Leigh sprinted up that hill like it was nothing, though Bill said later, “Well, she probably only weighs all of 100 pounds when soaking wet.” She is the best hill climber I’ve ever seen, and for that matter, so is Bill. I am so-so, and right now, I don’t know whether I will always be so-so or once I have a month or more of 40 mile rides under my belt if I will be flying up the hills too. Somehow I doubt it!
Shortly after climbing up that hill, Leigh told me that she was returning home, err, probably to now go out and ride 4o miles with her daughter! And, then there were three.
As we biked down one road, Bob biked next to me and started asking me a bunch of questions like “Do you boat?”, “Do you mountain bike?”, and finally there was “Do you know where you are?” I replied, “Um, nope.” He said, “Good.” Yes, Bob liked a captive cycling audience, especially if it comprised one female!
At one point, Bob shouted out to Bill, “And, stop telling people I’m 77! My birthday is in December. I’m only 76.” I laughed out loud. Bob cycled ahead, and Bill said, “You know, I still think he’s 77. Actually, I wasn’t sure how old I was ‘til I googled him.” It was funny to think that Bob might be google-able, because a character like him seemed anything but google-able. Bill said, “I even asked his brother once how old he was, and his brother couldn’t even remember!” As the miles of roads biked passed us by, it seemed to be that I was yesterday’s urban myth; however, Bob was an urban myth every day!
And, just so you don’t think I’m still just biking up and down the rail trail by myself and these new friends are figments of my overactive imagination, here’s Bob. :-)
After I took this, he said in true Bob form, "Just don't send it to the police!"
At around 12:45, I left Bill and Bob on a stone wall where they both planned to eat their sandwiches. Bob asked me, “So, what do your friends think about you cycling with us?” I said, “Err, I think they might think I’m a bit crazy.” Bob responded with, “"A little crazy is good. A lot of crazy is better." And, you know what, I agree. <3
I’m Not the Only Fierce and Psycho Bicycling Chick Out There Note: I can’t take credit for this. My friend, George, sent me the follow note tonight, “Hey, psycho bicycling chick – check out these PBCs!!” and the link to this video on youtube. I’m going to start to learn how to do this next week, and then I will join the circus. Does the circus pay well? :-)
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