Me: Look, a rabbit!

Jeanne: At first I thought it was a squirrel.

Me: What gave it away; the long ears, the fluffy tail, or the fact that it was hopping?

Jeanne: Are you going to blog this?

Me: Probably.

Jeanne: I could tell you were editing, already.

A few minutes later.

Me: What did you say? Was it "I could tell you were already scripting."

Jeanne: I did not say scripting.

Me: I thought the word script was in there somewhere.

Jeanne: No. I would not use the word script that way.

Me: OK.

Jeanne: Say whatever you want. It does not have to be exact.

Note: The picture is of “turkeys on the trace but not on bikes”. Why does this picture illustrate the adjacent conversation? Well, I did not have a good picture of rabbits or squirrels on the trace and I did not have a good conversation about turkeys.

This is the bike I’ll use, the Rans Rocket.

The Longleaf Trace is about 40 miles long and I ride from the USM end. I have been no further than Sumrall but plan on ridding to Bassfield (plus a bit) or to Carson on my birthday, October 4, 2007. The ride is roundtrip so the distance is double that in the chart. Also we live 1.1 miles from the USM gateway, so double and add that. This route will give me at least 65 miles for the "ride your birthday" tradition. Some folks ride their birthday in kilometers (65 x .621 = 40.4 miles for 65 km) but I’ll reserve that approach for when I am 80 (wishful thinking).

I just bought a Garmin GPS Echo 305 to keep track of things. Ordered it from GPSdiscount.com at a discount (fast shipping, great service). The regular bike computer, to the left in the picture, measures speed, distance, laps, time, etc. However, the Garmin is a super device. It also measures, and records, altitude, cadence, GPS path, heart rate (wireless sensor) and more. It keeps track of different rides/laps and different bikes and you can connect to your PC later and see a path profile and review the data collected.

So, I’m getting ready, kind of, but I’m not currently training, not even riding in the neighborhood. I haven’t been on a ride for several days and I can’t stand it. Jeanne and Kurt can’t stand it either. We can’t stand each other (just kidding). I have not even checked out my new toys, not even the Garmin GPS. Too hot. Way too hot. I want my mommy.

“Badges? We ain’t got no badges. We don’t need no badges. I don’t have to show you any stinking badges!”

and is from “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” (1948). Read more about how the quote has been misquoted here. We recently had house guests and spent a couple days trying to remember where the phrase “we don’t need no stupid…” came from and then applied it to anything remotely appropriate. Of course we had it wrong as did many others as you will see if you check the link.

“Quack, Quack”

We have a “short ride” (10.5 mile round trip), a regular “ride” (17.4 miles), a “long ride” (25 miles), and a “by myself ride” (32.4 miles, all measured from home). I have always had strong legs and definitely have the strongest bike legs. When we ride together it is more of a social event than exercise, so, to get aerobic I have to sneak in a high speed run or go by myself on an odd day (We ride about every other day). How do I sneak in a run? Well, one way is to stop to take a picture, let them get ahead and then rush to catch up. My other scheme, as I said, is to try and go by myself. However, this does not work so well because when I announce the odd ride they want to go too. duh. I can’t refuse them; we all love it so much. We sometimes go 3 days in a row with my trying to go by myself. This morning I had a great idea and approached the ride a little differently. Read on.

Most often it is Jeanne, Kurt, and myself. Occasionally Kevin will ride but he works nights so when he joins us we don’t leave until about 8:30. Also the rides are a little shorter because of his fewer rides (although I expect him to equal us soon).

Stray cat at Clyde Depot. I think the kitten lives there.

Kurt and normally Jeanne, like me, want a longer ride than a Kevin-ride but even they are behind me in speed and distance. So! Back to the great idea I had. Kevin called and said he wanted to ride. Opportunity knocks. I announce that I would like to leave early (7:25) and double back to meet them on the trail. No disappointed looks from them so I was out of there.

Morning sun around the bend.

Rode up to the USM trail gateway, 1.1 miles from home, and started my run at 7:35; watched the watch to time my return to the gateway by 8:35 or so. A 15.2 mile roundtrip ride (Clyde Depot and back) turned out to be just right and I made it, there and back, in one hour and 2 minutes. My speed ranged from a steady 14+ mph to bursts up to 22 mph; stopping only for rare traffic at the very few crossroads. I did not stop to rest, knowing that I would get plenty during the family ride, at a leisurely 10 mph or so.

Attitude check! Mine of course. I don’t think I gloat over being a stronger cyclist than the other ducks. Not really. I mean, I may joke a little; just in fun. Like today, I wanted to try a more laid-back position so I lowered my backrest angle a notch at the family-ride midpoint, i.e. rest stop (I’m thinking: I don’t need no stupid rest stop). As I reclined my seat-back I told them it was just in case I fell asleep on the way back. Well I thought it was funny. That wasn’t bad was it. I mean, not really. I have been bad before and that was definitely not me being bad.

I’ve gotten ahead of my story. I arrived back at the USM gateway from my pre-ride and was suddenly, immediately soaking wet (zero speed, zero breeze). I went over to the trail-head building to share their AC while I waited. Shucks. Closed. I stood there looking at the hours, open: 9:00 AM. I put my face up to the door to see inside. The bikes that they lease by the hour were all lined up and the shop lights were off. Then a voice:

Bike-rental lady: “Hi, may I help you”
(approaching from parking lot, taking shop keys out of her purse for an early opening, yippee).

Me: “Just finished a run to Clyde Depot; thought I’d share some air conditioning.”

Bike-rental lady: “Sure, come on in.”
(unlocks door and I follow her in)

Me: “I’m supposed to ride with my family up to Clyde Depot and back in a few minutes. Wasn’t sure I could make it so I came early to see. The ride went OK so I’ll be able to do it with them.”

Bike-rental lady: (No laughter)

Bike-rental lady: (No smile.)

Me: “Its a joke.”

Bike-rental lady: (A tiny smile. Maybe. Maybe not.)

Me: (I walked to the glass doors and looked out, watching for people that understand me and appreciate my humor. And, luckily, there they came, none too soon, in a row, like ducks.)

The above joke(?) is actually derived from one about a country boy, maybe cajun, that had a bet about eating a particularly large watermellon. So, he runs back to his house where his dad has an even larger one under the bed. He eats that and on the return to the waiting betters is confident that since he could eat the larger mellon he could surely win the bet