What About Bob?

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Today was my third day riding with Fabulous and Fifty-Plus Cycling Dudes, Ltd. These guys are either going to kill me or get me into the best shape of my life. God, I so hope it’s the latter. And, I know I’ve talked a lot about them this week, but they are now my way of life. Okay, it’s sounds like I’ve joined a cult, although we all do dress similarly! Some people join the Peace Corps when they are searching for purpose, well, I’ve joined Fabulous and Fifty-Plus Cycling Dudes, Ltd.

I assembled my gear at 9:20 this morning. Then, I realized that it might have been a week or more since I last pumped up my tires. I got out my pump and gave the rear tire some air. I tried to attach the pump to the little thingy jutting out from the front tire, but every time I began to pump, I heard “Psssssssssssssssssssssssst” as in the pump wasn’t attached properly to the little thingy jutting out from the tire. At that point, I texted Bill to tell him I was going to be running 10 minutes late.

On my 18th attempt, I finally got the pump attached to the little thingy jutting out from the tire, and within in 10 seconds, my front tire was good to go. Though, when I took the pump off, the top of the little thingy jutting out from the tire snapped off. Shit! I really wanted to ride, but now I was afraid, because I thought the TOP of little thingy kept the air IN the tire. I was now having a major flat tire premonition. I said, “Screw it,” got on my bike, and I headed down to the rail trail. I’d ask Bill his opinion, and he would let me know whether I should stay or go.

When I got to the trail, I saw Bill and rode over to him. He was on the phone chatting away; from his tone on the phone, it seemed like the call caught him by total surprise. For example, it was like he standing there minding his own business when his cell rang, and when he answered, it was President Obama calling to ask him what he thought about the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act.

I then heard Bill say, “Yes, Jean’s here.” I was thinking, “That Barack is so thoughtful thinking about me!”
Bill said, “Yes, we’ll meet you there.” I then thought, “OMG, we’re having lunch at the Oval office tomorrow. What will I wear?!”

Bill got off the phone and said to me, “You’ll never believe who that was?”
No, I didn’t say, “President Obama?”
Bill said, “It was Bob!”
I thought to myself, “Okay, it was Bob. Why is that so unusual?” Bill and Bob had been friends for 5 or 6 years, so why would it be odd for Bill to get a call from Bob?
Bill said, “Bob NEVER calls me! And, he just called me.”
And, when I thought about it a tad-ted-tid-tod-tud more, I could see Bob not being a phone kind of guy.
I asked, “Maybe he’s lonely?”
Bill said, “He wanted to know who was around to bike. He’s going to start biking and meet us along the trail. I still can’t believe he called me, Jean!”

I then said that I wasn’t sure I should ride today and showed him how I had snapped the top off of the little thingy jutting out from my tire. I said, “I’m afraid I might flat. Maybe I shouldn’t ride.” He told me that he had a spare tube and a CO2 cartridge, and that if anything happened, he’d take care of me. I said, “Are you sure that’s going to work?” He smiled (and was probably thinking right at that moment, “How can it be this girl has ridden since 1986 and does not know this?”) and said, “Yes. Trust me. That is part of the tube; if I change the tube, it’ll be fixed.”

Note to Self: It might be time to take some courses like “Bike Maintenance 101” and “Everything You Wanted to Know About a Triple But Were Afraid to Ask.”

So, we climbed on our bikes and headed down the trail. Bill told me how that for the longest time Bob did not have a cell phone. When the others asked him why he didn’t have one, he told them that they all had one, so why did he need one. If he was in a jam, he could use one of theirs.

Apparently, Bob had resisted getting a cell phone for the longest time, because he was afraid of identity theft; he didn’t want to give his social security number to anyone. Bill said he finally found a company that only asked for the last four digits of his social security number, so it was then and with them that he got a cell phone. Bill said, “Maybe I should be more worried about that stuff, but it just seems it’s like one of those things you shouldn’t spend a lot of time worrying about.” I agreed. Then Bill said, “Of course, when he was on the phone, he asked me if you were with me!’” I had to laugh; I was now officially part of Bob’s cycling chick harem!

As we biked, I asked Bill if he got my text message earlier, and he said that he did. He said that when his phone buzzed, he was surprised to see a message from me, because the only person who texted him was his grandson, Joel. He told me that it was one of the only ways his grandson communicated and that he joined Facebook just so he could keep track of what was going on in Joel’s life. Bill said, “He puts his grades on there; well, there are a lot of things he shares with people that I never would!” T.M.I, Bill? I wouldn't know anything about that, nope. :-)

When we passed the intersection of Smith Street, we rode for about 100 yards when Bill said, “Jean, we need to have a moment of silence right here.” This was the spot where he broke his pelvis. I so hope I never need to have a moment of silence anywhere on the rail trail!

About 10 minutes later, Bill’s cell rang and he stopped to answer it. I stopped and got off my bike. It was Jeff. Yes, the Jeff who felt I was “catchable.” When Bill got off the phone, he told me that Jeff had just got on the rail trail where we had first started and was going to meet us. Thinking that it would take Jeff a while to reach us, I then asked, “What about Bob?” He told me that Bob was supposed to meet us along the way, and we’d still do that. Jeff would have to catch up to us.

Before we could get back on our bikes, my phone rang. It was Nathan. He was about to go to soccer practice and needed a few forms filled out and my signature on one of them. “Mom, can I forge your signature?” I told him that was fine, arranged a time to fetch him, and then I hung up. I stood there for a moment saying to myself, “Wow. He just asked if he could forge my signature. What a good kid!”

We got back on our bikes, and 5 minutes later, Bill’s cell rang again. More and more, I was beginning to think that this cycling was just as much about being social as it was about exercise. Bill got off the phone and told me that Bob was wondering why we hadn’t met him at the parking lot yet. Bill said, “I told him that he was supposed to meet us on the trail. We’ll give him a break on that one because of his age!”

When Bill and I arrived in the parking lot, we met up with Bob and a new rider, Steve. Bill told Bob we were waiting for Jeff, who showed up about 5 minutes later. When Jeff was introduced to me, he said, “Yes, I’ve seen you fly by me!” Bob then said to Jeff, “Well, now you see her, and once we get biking, you won’t!” Just then two women showed up in the parking lot and started unloading their bikes out of a Subaru Outback. Bob went over to, err, investigate. I said to Bill, “Is there a woman he doesn’t know?” Bill said, “No!”

When Bob came back, Bill said to Bob, “Jeez, Bob, if it wears a skirt and has a bike, you are there!” Bob smiled. It was then that I realized a huge difference between men and women. Bill was always kidding Bob about his fondness for women. Men seem to be able to tease each other without any fear of retribution; whereas, if one women kidded another the way Bill had kidded Bob, well, it would have resulted in a total knock-down drag-out cat fight!

Then we all headed off, and it was apparent to me after 15 minutes that Bob chose a hilly ride. I wanted to say “Uncle” early on, but I felt that much better when Bill came up beside me and said, “This is killing me,” and I said, “Me too!” After biking 80 miles the past two days, the hill climbing had me ready to feign a flat tire, pull out my cell phone, and call my neighbor to pick me up!

After one long downhill, Steve, the new guy, biked next to me for a bit. He asked me how I liked my Lemond. I said that I loved it. (Greg, if you’re reading, you make a damn good bike!) He proceeded to tell me how much he loved his “Zurich” and how it fit him just right. Then he said, “But, the only thing is that I miss my triple!” Oh, jeez, again with the freakin “triple” talk! Thank goodness, I know what that is now. I do so. They are my “Granny gears.” Well, that’s what Quinn, Nate’s Dad, calls them. I had to call him last night to fact check my story, mind you! Apparently, Steve has to get out of his saddle to climb hills now, because he has no “Granny gears.” I guess I’m a lucky girl, cuz I still have “Granny gears!”

Once we crossed the town line into West Groton, Bill wanted to go straight on some road; however, Bob wanted to go left. As it turns out, the destination point was the same – the Clover Farm Market. Bill didn't understand why we just couldn't go straight. I got my first hint of a bit of male rivalry here. Bill then said, “Bob wants to go his way, and when you don’t, sometimes he gets bent out of shape. But, sometimes, I just have to go the way I want to show him that it makes no difference.” Okay, I didn’t really get it, but if Bill’s way had no hills, I was totally going to bike with Bill. And, I said, “Bill, I’m going with you!”

Bill said we were going to stop at the Clover Farm Market, because no matter what, Bob had to stop at noon to eat his sandwich. And, Bill said either route got you there, but his was more direct. (Bill was also antsy about getting home, because he needed to skedaddle to Toys ‘R Us to buy his 3-year-old grandson a nerf gun for a birthday present.)

And, this was one concept I had to get used to on these “marabikathons.” (This is what one of my friends calls these rides.) The concept was eating while riding. Usually, none of my rides were long enough to merit a snack, but now I found myself hungry after riding for only an hour with this group!

As we biked toward the luncheon destination, Bill told me about the wonderful cookies the market had. They were called squannacookies. The Squannacook River goes through West Groton; thus, everything in the town is named Squannacook; well, instead of West Groton, I guess. I did end up having a bite of one of these cookies. They were very good, almost like a chocolate chip cookie; however, they had a crispy texture and dried cranberries in them along with the chocolate chips. And, here’s the market.



Once at the market, Bill and I went in. Bill got coffee. I couldn’t imagine having a cup of coffee at this point! So, I bought a Limonata. We sat there and waited for Bob, Steve, and Jeff to arrive. Bill said, “You know, this store has been in a few movies. I can’t tell you which ones they are, but there aren’t many of these stores left.” Cool, a vintage store!

When Bill saw Bob, Jeff, and Steve in the park across the street, we got up and went out to meet them. Bob and Jeff were noshing on their sandwiches. Bill had bought a bag of Squannacook cookies to share.

We sat down, and the conversation went from “What was your most tragic biking accident?” to “Where do we bike from here?” and ended with “I Can’t Wait Until my 18-year-old Leaves the House.” They all started to chat about some guy who had biked into a truck going 30 m.p.h. who was now brain dead. Then Bob said his worst accident, which landed him in the hospital, was when he swerved to avoid a cat.

Bill then said, “I hate cats! They’re sneaky, don’t come when you call them, and I don’t like the way they look at you when you undress.” We all howled at that last anti-cat statement. And then, channeling Nathan, I told Bill, “Don’t be a hater! I have three lovely cats.” I think Bill felt badly about his “I hate cats” stance right then, and then he recalled the story about the only good cat he owned.

Then began the chat about where we would be going next. Bob said was going to take Steve and Jeff to Devens, but Bill and I both knew we had to get home. He had to buy that birthday present, and I knew my sick daughter was headed home prematurely from Philadelphia. I had said this to them, and then Bob asked me how old my children were. I told them I had Iz who was 6, and Nathan who was 16. When I mentioned I had a 16-year-old boy, Steve groaned. He said that his son was now 18, and he couldn’t wait until he moved out. He said that his son was 16 when he first starting giving him trouble. I said that my son was stellar, and I had to laugh to myself, knowing that this was the kid who had called me two hours earlier and asked me if it was okay to forge my signature!

After everyone was hydrated and had food in their stomachs, we got back on our bikes and headed off. Within 10 minutes, Bill and I separated from Bob, Jeff, and Steve, so we could head home. Once Bill and I arrived back to the parking lot, I said, “Well, it’s supposed to rain all day tomorrow, but are you going to be out on Sunday.” Bill laughed. He told me that, given he was out biking during the week, on Sunday, he’d stay home and spend time with his wife. He said, “Jean, take the weekend off!”

I thought about it. I had biked 185 miles so far this week. I then said to Bill, "To tell you the truth, Bill, I'm really glad it’s raining Saturday and Sunday!" He laughed, because I think he was, too. <3