True Grit

Happy Rose Festival Weekend.

I just finished a century. I rode from home out to the start of our weekly Community Vision ride, which was from Orenco Station to Hagg Lake - so I got 25 miles out of the way by 7:30, leaving me time for a quick cup of coffee before the masses assembled. OK - maybe "masses" doesn't quite describe the group when it's just Dave and Stacy and Joe W. There were a few really good excuses - for instance, being on a different continent really makes it difficult to show up; some pretty good excuses - like Rebecca's garage sale, which is a fundraiser for her trip this year; and some "Hey, it's gonna rain" excuses, which were unfortunately right on the money.
Since we were a small group, we actually got started at - get this - 7:58. It started sprinkling before we were 0.5 miles into the ride. Drat.

By the time we got to Forest Grove, Joe was peeling off to head back. Dave and Stacy made it, very bravely, all the way to the store on Old 47 and Scoggins Creek. It was about 57 degrees, and raining harder all the time, and my suggestion to them - that they would NEVER be warmer and drier than they were at that moment, until they got the heater going back at the car, was taken to heart. By Dave and Stacy. Wisely.

Foolishly, I continued on around Hagg Lake. I did discover that I was not the MOST foolish person cycling around Hagg Lake, though - there was a Team In Training triathlon event going on and there were people riding around in triathlon gear - sleeveless tops, etc in the cold rain. I wondered for a minute if they'd had to swim first, but then I realized that it really wouldn't matter - they would be totally wet and chilled within a couple of minutes of hopping on the bike anyway. Yech.

On the way back, I kept looking for excuses to bail, because it was raining still harder and the wind was starting to come up from the east, which typically means that it's going to be raining for quite some time. It also means that I'm riding into a headwind..... Heck, I'd meant to ride a century, and I was actually making decent time, all things considered. At one point I thought about taking a bus home, until I realized that any bus or MAX route that could help me would take me through downtown and the soggy denouement of the Rose Festival Grand Floral Parade....it would be faster to claw my way along with my fingernails, and considerably less painful. So bike it was.

I was mainly being fueled by that cup of coffee (okay, and a 'breakfast cookie') at the Orenco Starbucks and a couple of Clif Shot Bloks (Margarita flavor, the only one that I like and neither Nancy nor Bill does, so they stay around the house a while...). It wasn't enough (Duh, sports fans, duh). I managed to ooze in to the Beaverton Bakery, took a number(!), waited my turn, and managed to gasp, "Bear Claaaawwwwwww....." before I was totally consumed by hunger. I think I said "Please", too, but I don't really remember. It was GOOD. Repeat after me: FOOD IS GOOD.



Clif Bloks are good -
but Bear Claws RULE.


I did make it home. Really. It took a while, and traffic was really surly on the bridge, and I kept thinking, recreationally, about ways to wimp out...winning the lottery and hiring a limousine, perhaps, or being struck by lightning - just a little, around the edges - and being life-flighted to a warm, dry hospital. There was no lightning, so I just RTFB, hauled my soggy self in the door, and started peeling layers.

This is the point where I realized that this had been - quite literally - a gritty ride for me. I was covered in the stuff! There was grit on my legs, arms and hands. When I took off more layers, it was apparent that that there was significantly more grit than I'd thought - that grit had penetrated to the innermost recesses - that there was grit where Nature clearly intended no grit to be. Yeck.

While washing the grit off, another sad fact of life became apparent. Due to the cool NW riding conditions, I have spouted a slight case of knickertan - a faint, but distinct, melanized stripe between calf and ankle. Now, I've had a farmer's tan , and Mickey Mouse tan (white hands where your gloves block the sun), but the knickertan is a real headscratcher. I think we need more summer, soon, so I can get over it.

Also - wool socks rule.

More later,
Sandy