Injury to Insult (long)

Discussion in 'Recumbent bicycles' started by Denny Voorhees, Jun 13, 2003.

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  1. It was one of those days today. I spent some valuable riding time on the phone trying to talk to an
    insurance company about a rental to replace my wife's car. She hit a couple of Calves with it on
    Tuesday night and did 4 k damage to the car. The calves are veal now, the farmer (felt sorry for the
    guy) had insurance and was very apologetic about the whole thing. Nobody got hurt, it coulda been
    worse. Well I get the whole dodge and shuffle from his insurance company. It's Friday and the car
    will have to wait until Monday now. I finally get out the Giro, half an hour later than planned.
    We've had so much foul weather here of late that a couple hour opening between storms is all I need
    to get a ride in. Fill the H2O bag, get my riding shoes on, don the helmet, mount Greta Giro, and
    charge out to the end of the driveway. Look both ways down the street just before the end of the
    driveway. Accelerate and hang a right. BAM! down I go. Crashes on a Bent happen real fast The first
    thing I do is look around for a witness. Damn, the neighbor across the street, in the "Wife Beater
    T-shirt" happened to be looking up from the afternoon paper at the time. Busted making a bike
    handling FoPah. A quick survey of the bike, and all I found damaged was one side of the seat back
    mesh. Well, it had to get some marks sometime, I'll start looking for a replacement, but its very
    rideable and time is wasting. Ouch what's this? My forearm is burning, hello road rash. Double ouch,
    my right hip feels like I've been spanked with a red-hot electric steam Iron. I survey the cause of
    the crash. The lawn got mowed 3 days ago, and someone didn't remove the grass cuttings from the
    driveway apron. It's wet, moldy and slick as cat shit. My rear wheel must have skidded out on it. No
    time to rake it now, I gotta ride. Off I pedal I never do much stretching, but usually warm up for 5
    miles or so. Today after the warm up I decide it would be good to do some hills so O'briens hill is
    the challenge. Its a 1.5 mile climb on a steady 8 maybe 10 percent grade. 5 mph is about as much as
    I can manage. It goes surprisingly well. I crest the hill and ride down the other side and along a
    narrow busy street. On the other side of town a mile down the street, I notice a billboard rider on
    a Mt Bike waiting to enter the street I'm on. Cool, I've yet to be beaten on the Road By a Mt.
    Biker. My tempo increases and I shoot down the road past Mt. Bike Boy. The gauntlet has been thrown.
    I'm not sure where this guy came from, but jeeze I wish he'd go back. I'm flailing away on the flats
    at nearly 25 mph I can hear his knobby tires and they make a whirring sound like an Australian
    digerie do. He pulls along side, says Hi, and proceeds to leave me anaerobic and in the damp dust.
    Impressive, as of then I'd been smoked by a Mt Bike. I chased for 3 more miles and managed to
    whittle the lead down some, but mercifully MT. Bike Boy takes a side road. I skulk up the main road,
    my pride hurts nearly as much as my hip.
    O.k. so that wasn't so bad, isn't the Specialized Mt bike team in town for the weekend, yeah that
    must be it. Hey I'm old and fat, more rationalizations enter and leave my head. 10 mile out to
    tonight's turn around and inspite of the burning hip I'm cooking. It's a dead calm, albeit
    humid evening, I'm in a near Zen like state, its good to be bent. Then it's 8 more miles down
    the road after the turn around. On the way back on one of those uphill grades you have to work
    at, but can maintain 13 or 14 mph before blowing up. I sense a presence. This time its a Roadie
    on a Lemond. He's along side before I know it. "Hey nice to see you, I was about ready to fall
    asleep" I throw out, trying to be clever. Roadie Sneers, a little. I try to grab his wheel,
    yeah, I might as well try to grab a handful of water. It's that old and fat thing again. This
    guy was even faster, I can only hope he flats...both tires. He's gone in seconds I do catch up
    with him down by the railroad tracks a couple miles up the road, he has turned around and is
    off the bike. "Everything alright" I ask He smiles, not that smug kind of "I beat your old fat
    ass smile" but the smile of a fellow road rider, a little grateful for the concern. "I'm fine,
    thanks for asking". he says (of course we all know he could be having massive chest pains, but
    would be damned to show a bent rider any weakness) "Nice ride, have a good ride back" I holler,
    and off I head for the last couple miles home. My Giro gets put away, and I grab a rake and
    remove the wet and slippery grass off the driveway and apron. My wife is waiting for me, and
    wants to go out for supper. Fine I say, just let me get some bactine on this road rash. I drop
    my pants (married people can do this most any time, in the privacy of their own homes of
    course). In the mirror I see there is an angry, red puffy mark approximately the size and shape
    of an electric steam Iron on my hip. All of a sudden it hurts to sit, "Did you have a good
    time" my bride asks perhaps a bit sarcastically. "What a great ride, and I met some interesting
    people, say you haven't heard of a national bike racing team in town have you? I ask. "No". was
    the short reply. "Didn't think so, where's the bactine"? Will this hurt? Ow, Ow,. Ow

    Hoping for sunshine. Denny in Sayre, Pa "Bent but not broken"

  2. Skip

    Skip Guest

    Life has it's little ups and downs Like ponys on a merry-go-round And no one grabs the brass ring
    everytime But she wears a gold ring on her finger And I'm so glad it's mine

    from an old Charlie Rich tune I think.

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