i received this email today from a cyclist
who asks for the mostly reverend's permission
to refer to a recent bike ride as "epic."
much has been written lately about "this epic ride"
and "that epic ride" and so on and so forth,
literally ad nauseum.
i recently opined that in order to be "epic"
a ride must be at least 100 miles long,
and incorporate several other complicating factors.
. . . . .
let's read his letter:
. . .
The ride last night went something like this.
I'm riding over to Garvis [not the real name of the shop]
to meet Kurt [not his real name].
I see Steve R. [not his real name] Heading
to Bike World [yup, that's the real name].
I told him I didn't think anyone was going to be there
and he could ride with me to meet Kurt.
We pick up Kurt and head over to WWP [made-up name]
to meet Chad [not his real name].
Steve starts crying about his hands being cold
[hint: he rides for piggie's team].
We hook up with Chad and head down the western trail.
We get to the golf course and Steve bails.
To our suprise the trail is torn up for a drain pipe.
So we ride through the golf course.
We see lots of scary, dangerous deer [true] running in the woods beside us.
The turn around in Matensdale and head back.
The weather is starting to get to us.
We are all wet and cold but not wanting to complain.
Chad cranks it up in to Cumming just to warm up.
As we are riding through the golf course
the ride takes a turn for the epic.
Chad has a back spasm.
He can't get on his bike and is having trouble just breathing.
After 5 min or so Chad gets on his bike and starts to ride.
We get to the airport and Chad is in a lot of pain
and decides to call Dorthy [not her real name].
(Looking back on this we should have called you)
[the FIRST glimmer of wisdom in this sad tale--the rev]
Dorthy though is a real trooper and
loads Price [poor child--not his real parents]up
and drives out to get Chad at WWP.
Kurt and I wait with Chad in the shelter until Dorthy arrives.
I'm now shivering uncontrollably.
The wait was only about 15 min but it felt like I was freezing forever.
We leave the park and start up the dark trail with no lights.
I can't ride a straight line because I'm shaking.
Then as I slow down for the railroad bridge,
the front wheel starts to slide out.
I pull my foot off the pedal and start a second slide.
Luckily Kurt was back and heard me yell "slow down its slick!"
We get back to my house at 8:30.
I then drove Kurt back to his truck at the shop.
We both have be colder but not as wet and cold.
I woke up feeling like I rode a hundred miles or a really hard crit.
My points for calling this epic:
A rider turned back early because of the weather.
We rode someplace where bikes are not allowed.
An injury that caused a rider to have to abandon the ride.
Weather that made it hard to steer the bike straight.
Extremities that went numb.
Waking up the next day and feeling it.
Wishing Kim West was there.
Dave [not his real name]
Dave [not his real name]
. . .
the mostly reverend says:
thank you for thinking of mr. west.
calling him WOULD have been the best thing to do.
[we'd have photos for this post!]
but you KNOW how i feel about this:
it's like grade inflation in the 70s and80s
[where EVERYBODY was getting As and Bs].
well, the buck stops here, "dave."
as was best re-stated by "keith" and "luggs,"
this ride is "memorable" to be certain.
but because it was less than 100 miles,
it will NEVER be epic.
sorry, but that's how it is, and will ever remain,
here at the daily sermonette.
thanks for asking, and better luck next time.
besides, i TOLD you not to ride last night!
. . .
[hell, even donny wouldn't call it epic...
or did "chad" get laid?]