gumbo, drinking wine and secretly teaching important skills to the children while their parents weren't watching.The weather, like the city, was returning more and more to normal, and I rode out to the lakefront in the typical still and humid air of a New Orleans summer morning. Although it was still a bit before sunrise, I had my sunglasses on in anticipation of clear and sunny skies. Perhaps that was a mistake because halfway out there I rolled right over a piece of metal hidden in the leaves and branches that still littered the edge of the road. As I would later discover, it actually put a dent in the side of my rim. If that had been my only wheel-related incident for the day I would have been happy, but a mile later as I rode down Wisner alongside Bayou St. John I flatted big-time. I had somehow impaled my tire, tube and rim on one of the many roofing nails that still decorate our local roadsides. This one actually penetrated the rim. Luckily, I was a few minutes early, so I had time to fix the flat, pump in about 70 psi, and still make it to the lakefront in time.
Considering that today was the date of the cancelled Team Time Trial, it seemed only appropriate that I soon found myself in a 5 or 6-rider break out on Hayne Boulevard. I knew it would be a good workout and I was totally into it, but there was one little thing that I knew would eventually cause a problem. You see, all except Tim and I were on Time Trial bikes. Although I don't think the rest of the group was really chasing very hard, the pace kept ramping up and up. By the time we were halfway down Chef Highway my well-honed survival instinct had me skipping pulls for the extra recovery time. Then it happened. Thump, thump, thump. Something sharp was stuck in my rear tire and by the time I could coast to a stop it was flat as a pancake. I told the others to keep going, figuring I'd change it and jump back in on the flip side. 
A couple of minutes later the pack came by and a couple of guys stopped to help. It was a good thing, too, because my one remaining (brand new but cheap) spare tube was flawed by a bad seam, so I had to borrow a tube from Robin. By the time I had it fixed we had just enough time to turn around and jump in with the pack, which was itself still chasing the remnant of the break, now down to three riders. I dropped back down the line of riders so I could sit in near the back while I got warmed up again. You would think I'd know better than that. Well, next thing I know the pace is up to 28 mph and a few riders ahead of me there's a rapidly growing gap. I shouted "what are you guys doing?" but it was already too late. Big Richard went around and started trying to close the gap and I went with him along with Mark and a couple of others. By then, however, the pack was in full chase mode, closing in on the break at 30 mph and our Team Time Trial effort to bridge the gap was not doing the job at all. So we finally eased up and regrouped with some of the other riders who'd been behind the gap. 
We took the Bullard shortcut and rejoined the group. I ended up doing a good hard sprint up the Seabrook bridge, but that was about it. So it turned out to be a good training ride, just not the kind I'd been expecting. As I rode home from the lakefront I was reminded by a couple on a Vespa that there was a Saints game today.Later in the day we drove up to east Baton Rouge to check out the damage to The Wife's family property. It was pretty much a disaster with four huge trees completely blown down and numerous merely large ones badly damaged. It was a real mess. Somehow, nothing landed on the house, although its roof lost a few more shingles. While we were there a tree guy from Ville Platte stopped by and
gave us a quick $4,500 estimate, which was probably not too bad of a deal, considering. Naturally, one of the other sisters wouldn't act on that and will make this whole process yet another painful experience for everyone. I could go into details, but that would be a whole other blog, or maybe a soap opera.
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