Living the dream...

And finally the blog begins…what took me so long to join in on this almost obligatory trend to those who ride bicycles? Lackadaisical reluctance I guess. Well, here it is.

To bring those up to speed…

After what seems to be the most pivotal point of my life, I am now in Georgia doing what I love most, riding my bike. In the past few weeks I have: 1. Search for houses like it’s my job. 2. Finished Grad School 3. Moved out of my current residence promptly and without much prior planning leading to temporary homelessness 4. Found a new house and am currently going through the headache of purchasing it (my first one). 5. Maintained a relationship with a beautiful girl while being unbearably irritable and filled with anxiety because I haven’t got to ride my bike nearly as much as I wanted to.

For a while I was feeling like I was a prisoner of my own responsibilities. But alas, I am out and riding in the beautiful state of Georgia.

April 6th, 2007: The trip begins. After an evening of celebrating Dan Klein’s birthday at Bastone, I awake at 5:00. I make my girlfriend get up with me to see me off. She makes the coffee, which made me happy! It is 20 some degrees out and the rack on my car is frozen making it ridiculously uncomfortable to pack. Anyhow, I get on the road by 6:30 and head out to pick up a couple of velo-hooligans; Daniel Klein and Alex Dolpe. We have breakfast at Toast in Ferndale where we talk about the trip, the outlandish projected miles we plan to ride, and Alex’s crush on one of the waitresses. The car ride seems to drag on and on…the gas station food piles up like a brick in my gut…I start to feel like a gelatinous piece of filth because I haven’t got to ride in a few days and now I am sitting stagnant in the car…finally we get there.

Side not on our accommodations: For the trip, we have been put up in the beautiful “crash pad” arranged by Allen Smith and friends. This place is a house where several pilots crash in between jobs. It resembles what a college house would look like if a bunch of over-privileged students lived there and partied their kiesters of. A guy named Frank greeted us. Frank loved to curse like a sailor, drink heavily, and curse some more…he was fun.

April 7th, 2007

We awake at 8:00am (first time I have slept 8 hours in months). I am feeling good but anxious to get out and ride. But first, a trip to Publix, the local grocer, to buy the fuel for the trip. An hour and $170 later we are heading back home with lots of food. A deal is made; I will do the cooking, if everyone else does the cleaning (also, the standard deal I have with my girlfriend).

The ride begins around noon. We decide to settle into a nice steady paced 100 miler. None of us know where we are or where we are going. However, we did bring our G.P.S. (German Positioning System). Our G.P.S. system consisted of Alex and a map. He guided us well, kept us safe and we all finished the day feeling good and ready to ride much more the next few days.

April 8th, 2007

We make a pilgrimage to Conyers, the site of the 1996 Olympic MTB course. It was a great day of riding but I realized that holding on to a bike at very bumpy slow speeds is harder on the body than a curly-barred bike at high speeds and smooth roads. After a lap and a half in I started developing really bad blisters on my hands making very painful to descend. But alas, the day was very fun-filled and enjoyable. I kept telling myself when my hands were in excruciating pain; at least I am not at work or sitting in a college classroom.

That evening, we went out for a quick spin on the road to get the legs and body moving after a Mexican food binge post MTB session.

Tomorrows projected ride: 120miles of unfiltered road fun.