Again it was windy and gusty this morning, and as I started out down Neron Place the thought of bailing out in favor of a nice hot cup of coffee on the front porch did indeed cross my mind. But, hey, it's February already and time to start building so I'm not getting dropped in March. So I soldiered on, knowing it would be a hard ride, like it or not.
There were about a dozen up on the levee. As I rode up to meet the first group, Big Richard rolled up, looked at my bike, and said something like "that's an interesting way to carry a water bottle." It took my still-sleepy brain a little while to process that, but eventually I looked down and noticed my water bottle was upside-down. Yesterday, when I hung it from the hook where it sleeps in my basement, the water bottle was leaking a little bit, so I had turned it around and stuck it back in the cage so that I wouldn't be bottleless the next morning. I had been distracted this morning because the Rat Wars have officially begun. While I usually have a rather tolerant attitude toward other species, particularly those so similar to our own as Rattus rattus, the furry little creatures of the night crossed the line yesterday and now the gloves are coming off. One of the little rodents chewed a three-inch diameter hole in the bag I keep my riding stuff in (which as always was on the floor in the basement). Since that particular pocket was wide open, there was just no excuse for that. It was the rat equivalent of a slap across the face with a glove. Besides, the powerbar that I had left in my bag after last weekend's time trial was in a different pocket, where a more courteous rat had more delicately chewed a neat hole through the plastic bag and the industrial strength powerbar wrapper, and eaten a healthy portion of it. Sorry guys, but your next big meal in my basement will be your last. I still haven't forgiven you and your fleas for that whole Black Plague thing, and you've about worn out your welcome now.
Anyway, I digress . . .
So this morning we were graced with the presence of Mr. Matt, astride his slick TT bike, looking all Euro without a helmet since he had forgotten it up in Colorado where he's currently in exile after his house in Lakeview was flooded out in the hurricane. We also had Howard "SRB" Luna, Rob, VJ, Luke, Donald, and Brooks, among others. I already knew that half of them wouldn't be doing the whole long ride.
Eventually, the SRB ignited as I knew it must, and Brooks and maybe another rider went along for the ride. I watched from 10 sec back with the group, waiting for the inevitible "pop" as the exploding bolts fire, followed by separation of the SRB and its uncontrolled re-entry back into the pack. The group's speed increased a bit and we soon caught, but after that it seemed like everyone wanted to take a flyer off the front. The SRB fired a few more times, and it got very disorganized for a while, but ultimately the speed was pushed up a bit, with help from an occasional tailwind, and Matt, so that by the time we arrived at the turnaround there was only a handful left. The ride back was long, long, long and it felt like it was mostly into the wind. After Howard turned off and we lost a couple more riders, it was just Matt, Rob and me for the last stretch, at which point Matt went to the front and pulled for a few miles at a few miles per hour faster than was comfortable. He finally eased up and pulled off just as we hit the curve at the Country Club where the wind turned directly into our faces. Our speed dropped about 5 mph in about 50 feet.
Just as we approached the Orleans parish line where I turn off to head down the levee, I heard the train whistle. Damn! I sprinted down the levee as the line of cars started to come to a stop, crossed over into the now-empty oncoming traffic lane, made a hard left in a full sprint and made it to the next crossing ahead of the train. That was the second time I've had to do that in the last week. My legs were pretty much fried after that, and my commute to work was really, really slow today. It was all I could do to get my sorry ass up the Broad Street overpass without putting a foot down!
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