Okay, so Wednesday afternoons were the famous Prescott Park Slouch Potato group ride. But as autumn and winter's shadow loom over Portsmouth, afternoons become just a memory--morning leads directly in to evening, with nothing in between. For normal people that have full-time jobs, this means there is no time between work and darkness for cycling outdoors. Consequentially (although not unexpectedly) the Slouch Potato group ride has come to an end--at least for this year.
Last week's final slouch was covered by GC Cycling's roving field reporter, Ben "Operación Puerto" Goss. Here is his report:
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Jittery showed up in his Civi’s expecting a relaxed last ride for the season. He took a page from the Ripstick book of slouchiness and showed up with jeans (although, not acid washed spandex) and non-cycling shoes (although not leather clogs). He was slouching in style.
Lee was a no show. Ripstick was a no show. The Hammer was a no show. JT was a no show. Keith was a no show. Fred was a no show. It was up to me, Meatfist Taco Bell Lover, and Nick (my God, have we overlooked a nickname for Nick? The Greek? The Sweater? We gotta come up with something here) to represent.
I was sort of hoping for a relaxed ride also, but I ended up hooking on with Steve and Duane (was that you Duane?). After a smooth warm up along the causeway, we started to amp it up a bit. We took pretty even turns pulling through Rye and down the beach. There was a decent headwind, but we still were pulling 23, 24, 25 mph. It was brutal. I thought my lungs were going to get caught between my chain and my big ring. However, I still managed to close the door on the sprint, but that’s only because Steve and Duane (?) didn’t know about the outbound finish line.
On the way back it was another hammerfest, but we lost Duane (?) after the wood bridge. Some giant dude with aerobars caught up to us and then dropped off. No idea who he was or what he was doing, but he was big and fast. Steve and I beat each other up until the town line, where Steve thought it was over. So, again, I won le fin only because Steve didn’t know any better.
So, in summary, I hurt a lot and took advantage of the fact that I knew where the sprints were and other people did not. And Meatfist used the ol’ “I’m going to ride with Amy” excuse. Nick used the ol’ “My wrist is limp” excuse, and Giles used the ol’ “I’m wearing street clothes and I’ve become a wafe-like, pasty, gamer and the sun is burning my retinas” excuse. But at least they showed up…
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Wow. Well Ben, congratulations on Dominating the Unwitting, BSNYC Style. I better hit the weights this winter if I am going to be able to contend in spring--see you then!
Showing posts with label Guest Posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guest Posts. Show all posts
Monday, September 29
The Final Slouch
Posted by
Giles
at
6:00 AM
1 comments
Labels: Guest Posts, Portsmouth Bikes
Wednesday, April 9
First Ride, New Bike (Guest Post)
Today, my artist-friend Cassy and I are guest-posting to each other blogs. Call it boredom, call it what you like. Here is my post on her blog, too.
Yesterday I bought myself a bike. I'm the wrong person to be able to tell you the specifics. It was a craigslist find, it fit me, was decent condition from what I could tell, and it wasn't ridiculously expensive. But still, knowing next to nothing about bicycles, picking one out on my own was bound to be a little risky.
I haven't owned or ridden a bike in ten years. When I was a kid, before I could legally drive, my best friend and I would ride our crappy little mountain bikes all over our hilly town that was more or less the middle of nowhere, causing a bit of trouble and convinced that we were the toughest girls on bikes around. But yeah, TEN YEARS, and never having ridden in an area that was even close to be considered high-traffic, I was petrified. I told my roommates this, I told Giles this, but I'm pretty sure they didn't entirely believe me. Today I had some free time, and I decided that I would attempt to grow some symbolic balls, and sent Giles a vague message that included the words "bike ride," "later," and "maybe."
...And then soon after, he's at my house asking if I'm ready to go. Which I wasn't. At all. Oh, I should also point out that Giles was good enough to come over yesterday and safety inspect my new soulmate - he's pretty much my hero, and anyone new at this should have a bike nerdy friend, I'm not kidding. Anyway, I had no idea what was going to happen. I'm a pretty clumsy person in general, so for all I knew I could have completely lost all sense of balance in the last ten years. I could have fallen over immediately and it wouldn't have surprised me in the least.
Miraculously, this didn't happen. We went through some of the quieter streets around my house, and while I trust him entirely, when he led me to Islington Street, I was questioning his sanity a little. We went to the bike shop to get my tire size (my soulmate is imperfect, and he - yes, I've determined that it's a he - is in need of new tires), and then we were off again. I thought hey, we're just going to go for a short ride around town so I can continue to get the hang of this, but NO. Again, I trust Giles entirely so I was following him without question. This ended up turning into what I'm convinced was the longest first bike ride EVER, through a bunch of streets that I'm not familiar with and then out to New Castle. But I really loved it. Riding next to the ocean (which I love more than anything else in the world) with the wind in my face and everything around me being blissfully quiet.. it was the happiest I've been in weeks.
The adventure wasn't entirely without incident. I failed to make it up a hill, but whatever, at that point I was just thrilled about making it so far without getting hit by a car or making a complete ass of myself. I only made a small ass of myself, as we were riding over the bike/pedestrian lane on one of those bridges that have grated bottoms so you can see everything below you - those things scare the shit out of me when I'm on foot, it was narrow and I was still wobbly, and I totally hit one of the guard rails. Mildly embarrassing but fortunately for me, I'm past the point of feeling awkward about stupid things in front of Giles, so I just sighed at myself in frustration and continued on. And hey, now I have a sweet lump on my arm that I'm sure will turn into a bruise, and injuries are always impressive... right?
All in all, it was a good day. I have a good mentor. I can see this becoming addicting quickly - my legs ache, (tmi alert:) my crotch hurts, but all I keep thinking about is when I'll next have time to bike someplace other than work.
Posted by
Cassandra
at
4:00 AM
2
comments
Labels: Exploration, Guest Posts
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