Stage 4 - Dude, You're Harshin' My Mellow

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to hide the bodies of those people I had to kill
because they pissed me off.

It was bound to happen and today it did. One of those days when there seemed to be a constant stream of bicycle-auto altercations. Now in the scheme of fight or flight, I'm a flight guy. Out run 'em, out smart 'em. And that seems to be a sensible position to take since a bike weighs under 20 pounds and an average auto runs over 2,000.

As I rolled out of the garage is was a calm, cool and sunny morning. Just perfect. What a great day to be alive! Who could have a care in the world on such a beautiful day?

Confrontation #1: At the bottom of a steep hill is a crossroad. On the crossroad are stop signs. You know, those red octagon's with the big letters S-T-O-P on them? My road did not have those funny red things on it. I was free to cruise down the hill and zip through the intersection just as pretty as you please. As I'm hitting top speed I note the soccer mom in her mini-van, on the phone, laughing. Paying precious little attention to her surroundings. Sure, she slows down alright, but stop? Not even close. Just rolls right through. I nail both brakes and begin to skid from side to side. Soccer mom finally stops as I run into the side of her van. Fortunately, most of my speed had been bled off via the long, thin lines of smoldering rubber left on the road by my tires. I turned sideways to hit the van broadside and just needed to put my hands out to keep my bike, my body and her van from sustaining any damage. Before I could recover she yells out her window, "A**hole!", and speeds off. There I am, alone in the middle of the intersection, alive and well only because I was paying attention to her inattentiveness. She had no clue that had I been like her, both of our lives would have changed in a very negative way. And what do I get as a thank-you? A very unladylike epithet. I didn't swear back, I didn't flip her off. See, I'm a flight guy.

Confrontation #2, #3, #4: Young men in Chevrolet Silverado pick-ups. Are you tired and/or hung-over from the long holiday week-end? It sure seemed like these guys in their trucks were. Lots of anger. Three times I was almost run off the road. From behind. Didn't see them coming. Suddenly there was a huge metal truck inches from my left elbow going at speeds that defy physics. I didn't flip any of them off either.

Confrontation #5: Knuckle-heads in their shiny new Ford Mustang muscle car, apparently joy riding. Is it a sign of manliness to pull to a stop on the gravel in front of a cyclist and then hit the gas to send rocks flying at the cyclist? I've never done this. Am I missing some inner joy or feeling of power and domination by not doing this? I guess I'm a wimpy, nancy-boy. I just kept my eyes straight ahead and rode along as if they were not there.

The other confrontation I had this morning was with a small saddle sore that's developed over the last two days. It was just a small pimple sized thing but it was quite aggravating so I decided to take matters into my own hands, as it were. I boiled a pin and used that to lance the little bugger. A bit of pus came out and the swelling went down immediately. Now I'll keep it clean and hope that I can avoid infection or any more irritation so that it heals quickly.

During the ride I saw a small plane (a Cessna 152) flying in circles in the beautiful sky above an intersection that I was heading towards. It appeared to be a student pilot practicing turns about a point. I remember doing those as I was earning my private pilot license a few years ago. When the plane banked (see photo) I could see that it was tail number N885P, better known at Timmerman Airport as 8-5 Papa, the same plane I had used as a student. They must have repaired the damage from that little incident that we don't speak of.

See the little plane near the right hand side?

Ride notes:

I've always gotten on a bicycle from the left side of the bike. Left foot on the pedal, push off with the right foot, swing my right leg over and away we go. I decided to get on from the opposite side during the Tour. Don't know why, maybe just to exercise my brain synapses. Anyway, this is difficult. Try it. I feel wobbly and out of control. A mini adrenaline rush from the uncertainty of a successful mount. Really, give it a try, you'll be surprised.

For food I gave the new Clif Shot Blok '"organic energy chews" a try. Don't bother. I figured that since I like licorice I would like these little rubbery squares. But the bag is hard to open, it's fussy to get a blok out of the bag, and the squares leave your hands all sticky. Two thumbs down.

My legs and I felt much better today. Let's hope this is a sign that my body has adjusted.

Miles needed: 66.65. Miles ridden: 67.