I started this week off on a gorgeous autumn Sunday, where the air was crisp, the sun was warm and the wind was rattling the aspens steadily, with a not-so-lofty plan to finally get back on my bike (post-Wiggling trauma-drama in August) and ride on the most open, flattest roads in the near vicinity I could find. After a small amount of research, I mapped out a 35-mile loop touted as one of the local rides with the least climbing (I hate hill climbing…) that would take me along the Truckee River, down to the lake and back up again. Because I live on a mountain, I lazily decided that rather than starting from my driveway (which would mean I’d have to climb back at the very end), I’d put my bike in the car, drive to the top of the loop, and go from there.
It was an awesome ride. It turns out that there’s a bike path that hugs the river for about half of the first stretch, which was paved and unrooted and shielded by yellow leaves and eventually dumps you right on the lake about 15-20 miles in. I was moving at a pretty decent pace despite the constant gusts of wind in my face, and only had one minor moment of ‘you need to eat something NOW’ before I eventually got to the only real hill of the loop (…it was unavoidable), which happened to be Brockway Summit. How much of a hill? Enough of a hill where I crawled up at a steady 6mph and then flew down the 9% grade at 40+, a speed I am 99.9% certain I have never in my life hit on a bike. It was terrifying in that ‘if I hit anything, I will die’ sort of way, but also crazy exhilarating in that ‘oh my god this is so fast’ sort of way.
Anyway, I made it back in seemingly one piece without having really stopped moving for more than the two minutes total I took to take a few photos and shove a Clif Bar in my mouth, which while at the time, felt great, clearly was an error… because the second I stopped for real, it was a full onslaught of dizziness and nausea and a weird state of conscious delirium. I finally made it home, hungry but about to puke… went to unload my bike… and realized that my front wheel was absolutely not in the car… which meant I got back in the car, and drove back to the parking lot, to find absolutely no trace of my wheel anywhere.
Talk about knocking the wind out of sails. Le sigh. It was so typical – ‘here! Have a great day! Do this awesome thing! Things are actually okay! … Oh wait, sorry. Don’t get too excited. Let’s just pull one more thing out from under you and make it a little bit more difficult, because clearly that was too easy.’
Again. Le sigh. I guess it’s good the snow is starting, and biking is pretty much going to be on hold for the winter.
On a totally unrelated note, I made (another) quick turnaround trip to the city, purely for the purpose of ensuring that some of Eng made costumes for Halloween that were suitably witty and effortful after last year, where less than two weeks on the job, I brought my sewing machine into the office and started an assembly line of ‘Heroku Dyno’ costume-making.
After much back-and-forth, we opted for Party Parrots (Reference: www.cultofthepartyparrot.com) over the close contender of [Software Development is] Turtles All the Way Down, using glow-y things, feathers and a lot of color over the close costume contender of full-body parrot attire.
Basically, I’ve always wanted to own a tutu and feather boa (and never have!?) and kind of like arts and crafts time.
And finally, on a totally unrelated (but related) note, in my travels on the streets of San Francisco between the hours of 6am and 9:15pm today, I have:
- Been offered meth three times
- Asked if I wanted to get high
- Asked if I would bend over
- Been catcalled five times
- Had five separate people comment on Otis’s Cone of Shame.
It was sort of amusing (/not amusing at all) early in the day, but by this evening, I actually came extremely close to flipping out.
Pretty ready to go hide again.
(Dizzy yet? Me too.)