Just Words

No photos today; just words.  Sometimes I just can't force myself to go to the effort of pulling out my camera in order to take another picture of the regular group on a regular ride on a regular Thursday.  This particular regular ride had certainly not started out so regularly, however.  I'd decided a couple of days ago that I'd drive the car out to the Jefferson Playground, which is about two miles up the river from where we normally meet, or where we used to normally meet, depending on whether you are atop the levee or cowering from the traffic on River Road. 


So we drove out to Dakin St. a few minutes early this morning and waited in the parking lot there.  Brian had said yesterday that he would follow anyone who wanted to ride out past the construction zone in order to keep the cars and trucks from trying to pass on the narrow shoulderless roadway that is River Road.  It sounded like a good plan and I figured I may as well follow along too, forming sort of a rolling enclosure mini-caravan.  Soon enough Rich and two others arrived and we pulled in behind them as they rolled up the road at 20 mph.  I was immediately behind them and Brian was behind me with his hazard flashers on.  We had to get them only 1.2 miles down the road before they would be able to ride up the access road at Shrewsbury to the bike path.  As we approached Ochsner I looked in the mirror to see five or six cars behind us, a few of which soon turned off toward the hospital.  Things were going smoothly until we got close to where the riders needed to turn left across traffic to pick up the access road.  Just as they started to prepare to turn a dump truck decided it was the ideal time to pass both cars and the bikes.  It was also the time that Rich decided it was time to turn left. Behind me Brian saw it coming and eased over to the left to try and slow the overtaking truck which had no discernible effect other than to make the truck pass a little farther to the left. So I see Rich turning left right in front of the Dump Truck that has by now almost pulled even with me and I'm thinking how lucky his survivors are that there will be a couple of witnesses on hand to document his demise. In my head I see that Michael Hingle commercial that's been running on TV for the past ten years.  I should add that there is a solid double yellow center line all along this stretch of River Road.   Somehow he made it across ahead of the truck and the other two riders coasted until the truck passed and they could make a U-turn to get back to the access road.  It was way too close for comfort.


After parking next to the River Road Flea Market, across from the playground, we put on shoes and helmets and headed out, probably ten minutes later than usual.  We got a nice paceline going as the speed very gradually increased to about 24 mph.  At precisely 10.5 miles Danielle took a pull and then dropped off.  I know it was at 10.5 miles because my Garmin had paired with her heart rate monitor at the start, and the heart rate line went flat when she dropped off.  Then, somewhere between the little dip and the big dip I think, Brian got a flat.  After his triple flat experience earlier in the week he had indulged in a brand new tire and tube when he had now broken in with a puncture.  That delay allowed Danielle to catch up to us, but she was already planning on turning back to do some intervals.  By then we were running so late that we decided to turn around at the Luling bridge instead of going all the way to Ormond.  At least that allowed us to pick up the Destrehan Gang just before we turned back.  So overall, the morning ride consumed about fifteen minutes more than usual for me, while providing about fewer riding miles.  On the other hand, I was not squashed by a speeding dump truck. Sometimes life is just a big unavoidable compromise.