Scoplaw

Century

Having nothing better to do today, I rode out in quest of a century.  Final tale of the tape 102 miles in just over 7 hours rolling time.

In some ways this was kind of audacious, since I've only been commuting 4 miles each way per day on the fixed gear lotus, but I felt I could do it.  For this ride I used The Little Red Rocket, and switched back to clipless shoes.  After the mustache bars, riding the ergo drop bars was a little weird, but nice for reducing hand fatigue over a long ride.  Ditto power-grips to clipless pedals - but I wanted the ease and surety of clipless and had never taken my sneakers with the power grips over a long ride.

The route I chose went out beyond Leesburg VA.  Things started well, but I had to keep the reins on for miles 1-30.  Not having done a longer ride in quite awhile, I took things easy, and ended up going pretty strong for most of the day.  I've done this before, and let me tell ya, miles 40-50 are the worst - little jumpy hills on a steady climb that beg you to burn out your reserve.  This was no different, and I resisted the temptation, spinning up them at whatever speed my cadence gave me.  Overall, this was a pretty successful strategy as I still had some gas left in the tank when I reached my building.  Not much, but some.

I mostly ate and drank as I rode because I started late and wanted to finish while there was still daylight.  Munchies were: one candy bar, one burrito, one small bag of cookies, one piece corn bread, 1 juice, 2 gatoraids, 3 liters water.  I still have my one-handed-bottle-spin-into-backpack chop. 

There was all kind of interesting activity on the trail - hawks, gophers, snakes, cardinals, and people (including, I suspect, some fellow centurions, based on where and when we passed each other going out and back).  I saw one dead bunny (mangled under a wheel, no doubt) and another decided to run alongside me for awhile.  It was going 16mph for 4 seconds before cutting off the trail.  Overall, the day was pretty gorgeous and the majority of my fellow riders appeared happy to be on the trail. 

For a number of reasons, this was a *much* needed ride; for some reason the physical activity of riding is great for musing over issues and questions.  We'll see how I feel about it when I wake up tomorrow. as I ended up with pain in both knees and tightness in one calf for the last 25 miles or so.  One knee flared up and then died down entirely - weird.  That one felt like a swelling under my kneecap, the other one that didn't go away felt like a sour thread on the back of my knee.  The calf I'm not worried about at all.  So, in addition to finding someone who can give a decent backrub, I could use a legrub as well.  Unfortunately I have nothing to bribe anyone with.  However, I am currently in the endorphin zone; idly moving my legs feels very nice indeed. Now I should go clean the road gunk off them.

This will very likely be the last century I do in DC (or really, out of DC), and it was a nice way to close things down. 

Sabotage?

I was riding in on the single speed Lotus (Lumina is up in CT) as I have been doing to build the legs up. Non regular riding means more extreme riding when you can to compensate. It won’t build you up the same way, but it’s better than nothing.

Anyway, I’m pedaling along and I notice a creak, creak, which I think is from the pedal because: a) I can feel it through the pedal, and b) it happens every time my right pedal is at 3 o’clock.

Turns out someone has taken two chain ring bolts off my bike.

For the layman, your pedals are attached to cranks. The toothed gear (on which sits the chain) is bolted to the right crank. Those are called “chain ring bolts,” and they hold that toothed gear (or cog) onto the cranks.

Now, I didn’t put this bike together. But from what I’ve seen of the rest of this guy’s work, it’s solid. And while I do ride hard (I eat headsets) I don’t think I ride hard enough to loosen and pop out two chain ring bolts.

So I figured I’d check the bike. Here’s the next weird thing. One of my rear brake pads had been loosened also.

I find all this highly unlikely to be random chance. Given that I just tightened the brake pads two weeks ago.

**

So, let’s assume human agency.

What’s weird about this is that to do either you need separate tools. A hex key set and a wrench.

Could the person have been a thief, interrupted mid task? 

I think not. Neither part itself has value. Nothing was taken from the rear brake, and the two bolts cost, maybe 50 cents each, tops. Brake pads are also pretty cheap. The chainring itself is nothing special – standard 90s issue, worth about $7 at a used parts place.

But I have a decent saddle, which wasn’t taken although the hex key would have got a thief that as well. There’s also a decent rear wheel (single speed freewheel) which also wasn’t taken, even though it’s only held by a skewer (that means you can take the wheel off with your hand, by manipulating a small lever).

So, the bike thief ignored portable and decent parts to jigger with completely valueless but important parts?

Are you starting to see my problem with this?

**

But here’s the next issue – assuming this was sabotage, it’s unlikely that taking the bolts or only messing with my back brake would make me crash. I might ovalize the chain ring or (more likely) bend it out of true if I climbed really hard, but that’s about it. 

There’s always the possibility that you do go down though – if the chain suddenly drops off a bent ring and you have no tension to push against. It’s easy to unbalance in tight city riding.

If the bike were a fixed gear, then maybe it would have brought me down, assuming the cog warped and the chain locked or came off. But I’d still have the front brake, which looked fine to me. 

But I have to assume that anyone who knew enough to remove two chain bolts would be able to tell a fixed gear from a single-speed. (I also have to assume this weighs against the interrupted-thief idea, for no bike thief would try to remove chain ring bolts even on a fixed gear – that’s just stupid – it would get you nothing but the chain ring itself, which, as I said, was pretty much worthless. Also, if you wanted the chain, you’d have to use a special tool to get it off the frame, so *that* couldn’t be it either)

So, it seems more like fuck-with-your-head type stuff. Or at least that’s my tentative conclusion. 

**

Suspects? I got none. I realize I annoy plenty of people, but that means I just don’t get invited to parties. 

Perhaps this was a random act of sabotage against any bike that happened to be handy? That’s a little weird. But who would want to expose me to death or injury? That’s kind of weird too. 

So there’s no real good resolution here. Just weirdness. Anyone out there ever randomly drop 2 chain ring bolts at the same time?

Quasi-Bonk?

I went for a ride with In Limine and Handful of Dates (he gets through the day with a handful of words like the proverbial arab does on a handful of dates).  It proved to be unsatisfactory.  Lack of food, sleep, general marshmallow-ness, or quasi-bonk.  Who knows?  I kept loosing power when I rode.  We’d stop, I’d get it back, then it would leave even more quickly than the previous time.  Final tale of the tape (guestimate by Google Earth) was 40 miles.  Everything over 30 was pretty tough going. 

On the way home I stopped at the national book fair on the mall, sponsored by the Library of Congress and Laura Bush. I got a free Fahrenheit 451 poster.   Now that’s  *irony* for you. 

I stopped briefly in the poetry tent (when you’re gassed, stopping can mean not-starting again) and listened to a woman read.  It was pretty unmusical – “the important anecdote read in a cadence” kind of thing.  There’s this “important subject” voice that poet’s use – and it’s ripe for mockery.  But she’d chosen a poem about Japanese intern camps.  And that, in the tent, on the mall, elevated well into the poetic realm as far as I’m concerned.  I hope the hundred or so people there got the message. 

Upon arriving home, I met up with a runner in the elevator (I live in a building populated with friendly young women – it’s a rough life).  I looked a her with dull eyes.  She looked at me with dull eyes.  “Marathon training,” she said.  “Long run.”  I was spandexed out and had the bike, so saying “bike ride” seemed a bit redundant.  I nodded, she nodded. 

After putting on clothing, I went across the street to a Russian Bizarre at a local orthadox church.  No one asked me my connection to things-Russian, which is just as well, since it mostly involves my ancestors being persecuted and slaughtered by them over many  centuries.  But the Russians do mean things with cabbage also.  So I got the veggie plate and wolfed it down in about 60 seconds.

I still feel dull and slow. 

This afternoon case-work awaits me, then maybe working on an essay/review, some minor cleaning and washing. 

If I only had either a) a brain, or b) some energy, things would be right on track.

Bicycling

I tend to get a lot of bike information requests from students at this time of year; the mystique of the Metro-bus is firmly dead and everyone wants to zip into school in under 20 minutes.  I try to let people know of good options for used bikes (Tag-sales, Craig's, thrift stores, pawn shops, web-buying, etc.) but sometimes neglect to talk about bike safety. 

I've been hit by cars - it's no fun.  If you cycle at all, it's  a risk you have to accept, but should try to minimize. 

Thus - Please Read this page on common bicycle collisions and how to avoid them.

Second post in as many days - the sky may fall or something.

Hmm.  Sniff, sniff.  Could that be. . ."free time?"

Righto.  Anyway, today was a quiet day.  I slept in (for the first time in quite awhile), then I lay in bed and played with El Gato Perfecto, who has been a bit put off at my long hours.  I cleaned up the Univega, then YB and I went for a ride on her and the Fuji.  We traded off and rode some basic terrains (steep climb, sharp turns, descents, etc.).  He ended up preferring the Vega, so I tricked it out when we got back.  That should end the YB roadbike quest, courtesy central CT tag sales. 

Some photos: the Univega (note chrome fork), the garden (same angle as my earlier shot), and a profile view. 

Two weeks, two posts, two metric centuries (ack!).

Well, it’s been a week, and that week has gone according to the usual weekness, which is to say it’s regular, predictable.  I get up at 6:45, shower, dress, fix a coffee, climb into my car, and arrive at work around 8:30 or so.  I then work.  Lunch is an hour (or less) – usually salad (heavy on spinach and beets).  I have some kind of small munchie treat (candy, dried blueberries, dried organic cranberries – imagine distilling about 12 crasins into one berry), which I eat as I work through the morning and afternoon.  Then I leave at 5, sharp.  I drive home and use sneaky exit then re-enter highway strategies to beat the two congested areas.  I normally arrive home at 6pm, at which time I look around and wonder how much easier things would be with a half-hour commute.  Actually, it’s not that bad a commute, but things at work have alternated between shocking drudgery and some interesting memo-ing/casework, which makes for long weeks.  If it was all go-go-go (albeit with realistic goals), I’d probably enjoy it more.  But workflow is in the hands of the judicial gods to which even partners must bow.

When I get home I do domestiky stuff, laundry, bills, etc., on the theory that I don’t want to have to do any of that stuff Friday-Sunday.  Usually I get a fair amount done.  Sometimes I’ll read the blogs or watch a film, but it’s pretty much nothing but “must do” stuff from Mon-Thurs. 

Last night I tried to look up H, but she, alas, is in Alaska.  So I rode the new Raleigh (supra) about town, and man, she’s one sweet bike.  Those swept back handlebars mean that your hands are on the sides of your knees as you climb.  Amazing power.  I’m tempted to put a pair of those on Lumina, just to see what would happen.  Hmm. . .

This weekend I again got up early, ate at the local breakfast place, and went tag saling for an hour or so.  I found another $2 road bike, an old Univega, which will upgrade everything on the Fuji, making her an aluminum monster for YB.  Should be an easy conversion.  I’ll just swap stuff out wholesale.  (Although I may keep the chromed fork for my own use).  If you want to get good tag sale deals on bikes, go to rich neighborhoods in very hilly areas.  Economics.

After tag-saling, I hopped on the Little Red Rocket and we took off to find a vineyard and a river.  Both were found but I had to eat another freaking named hill to do it.  In this case, Bunker Hill.  (No, not *the* Bunker Hill – now that would be a hell of a long ride).  Traveling west up the hill just plain sucked.  Note all the little lines close together?  That means you don’t want to climb it during mid day heat in July.  Descending it (I crossed that hill twice in search of the vineyard) was much more fun.  I got LRR up to 44mph.  And I wasn’t even trying.  I saw two other roadies on that hill, but none elsewhere, so there must be some draw to that road/area.

I ended up finding the vineyard, which seemed closed (abandoned?).  Though there were recent tire treads and small firm grapes on the vines.  It’s really tucked away in the hills.  I will continue my vineyard research and try to get some of their very good fruit wines. . .  The last time I was there I was much younger and didn’t quite appreciate the place as I do now. 

In the course of searching I rode off the road onto some sand; LRR knifed about six inches into the surprisingly deep and loose sand and I went over the handle bars.  It was actually quite graceful.  I just unclipped, vaulted over the handlebars, and landed on my feet.  One of those moments no one saw and which will never be captured on video alas.  I scratched up the finish on LRR’s flight deck shifters a bit, but I’m of the school that bikes are meant to be ridden, not polished obsessively. 

After that I headed out to Chaplin to Diane’s pool, which is a small waterfall/pool on the  Natchaug River.

On the ride I was loudly hooted at by a bunch of Puerto Rican teenaged girls in a minivan with the sliding door wedged open.  We had a small conversation at a light after I chased them for 2 miles.  I asked them not to honk and scream at cyclists when they were moving, because it was often confusing and scary for the cyclist.  They agreed and were very sweet about things.  My other odd road encounter (there are always a few of them) came when I pulled up next to a car and a very friendly dog popped his head out and started sniffing me.  The dog’s owner seemed as amused as I was.  The last time I had a close dog encounter, I was (I believe) *hit* by one in DC.  I’ll try to find the link in the archives when I’m feeling less lazy.

I found the pool without any problem.  I sat by the falls and ate a warm garlic bread with mozzarella and marinara sauce which I’d picked up at a local place about 5 min away.  As I cooled down, I read a bit from a Sean Russell novel – Eldrich explaining a number of possible futures to the Lady Chilton, while Kent works on Eldrich’s portrait.  Then I hit the road back towards home.  The ride back was good – very strong actually.  I still like those small and mildly ascending hills apparently.  So I got myself a small sundae from Shady Glen (home of the evil elves) as a treat.  Not that I wouldn’t have gotten one as a consolation if the ride sucked.

Final tale of the tape was 68 miles.  Some of those were very hard, others were very easy, almost meandering.  I was on the bike for about 6 hours total.   I downed 2 liters of water, a Gatorade, a honey packet (secret weapon), a maple donut (round power bar), the garlic bread, and the one scoop sundae.  I started the day with two eggs, two pieces of toast, and a pancake.  What that means in terms of calories, I don’t know.   But someone asked, so if you want to figure things out, go ahead.

I need to find a good place about 50 miles out for my next jaunt.  Metric centuries (100K, or 62 miles) are fine, but when I think “century,” I think “English Century” (100 miles).  Yes, yes, it’s horribly arbitrary and silly, but what cycling approach isn’t?

Aaaah. . .

Good day.  Today I decided to get breakfast at the local breakfast place (eggs, pancakes, which I can make myself, but I cook in during the week), drive about, read a bit of a novel (Sean Russell), and get the two recently acquired bikes working. G sat in the window and purred at me while I worked.  I'm best when working under feline supervision. 

I put the Fuji together for Youngest Brother, and was pretty pleased with the results.  There are a few things to upgrade (wider handlebars, pedals, wheels) so I’ll be looking for odds and ends as I go.  But she’s and absolutely rideable beater road bike, which is cool - should be a nice introduction for YB to see if he likes it.  Since YB is a buff soccer player (who almost did a pro stint), I think he’ll be pretty fearsome on the Fuji.  He’s got a lot of physical intelligence and should pick it up pretty quickly. 

On the other hand, the Raleigh turned out to be an abolute keeper.  I’d picked her up because I thought I could salvage a part or two off her.  When I first saw her, she was covered in oily dust, and I though that her steel wheels were rusted and her tires were rotten through.  Instead, she turned out to be perfectly preserved.  I’ve never seen an old 3speed in this kind of shape.  It’s as though she rolled off the showroom floor.  (Although oddly enough, her hub was pretty dry/stiff until oiled.)  After a bit of cleaning and tuning up, she rides like a dream – very smooth, stable, the epitome of a cruiser.  I love old Raleighs – simple, built to last for decades, easily maintained, classy as hell.  Anyone need a good bike?

Proving the adage that accidents don't happen while you're actually riding, I slipped off one of the old pedals and fell when working on the Fuji, actually, while riding her across my perfectly flat driveway (hence better pedals on the list).  I ripped my crappy work pants, banged my knee, and skinned my elbow, resulting in my first road rash in awhile.  Normally I’m wearing gloves and will take most of the road on my palms if I end up going down.  On the driveway I was holding a wrench.  Ouch.  Saved the wrench from any scratches though (duh). 

I was wearing the same sandals that didn't give me any rock purchase when Lyco and I were climbing in the Shenandoah.  This has completely convinced me that I need super grippy sandals for my short wide feet.  Any suggestions?  As long as I'm asking, anyone have suggestions for riding shoes?  My problem is that I have super-arches.  Normally they translate to a 8.5 (mens, US) or a 42.  However my feet are short - about 7, 7.5 or so.  So either my arches bust through the top of the shoes or my toes are pinched because they come up short inside the shoe and are thus are not lined up with the "crease" or widest part of the sole.  Oh, and my heel is slim, so I need a shoe that grips well back there, otherwise I destroy the back lip via friction.  The only shoes that have really fit my feet are the old Fluvog Angels, and the only sneakers that do are my 2E 8 Dunham Waffle Stompers (which are seriously awesome trail running shoes). 

That's a hell of a lot of personal information, I know.  My apologies.

“Mad Dogs, Englishman, and The Scoplaw“ or “CT hills still kick my ass”

After coming back on Wed., I had a whirlwind couple of days at the office.  Then, waking on Sat.  I realized that today was one day where I didn’t have a deadline, a must do, an errand even.  I’ve had days like that before, but not recently, and not in my home town.

I decided to go out tag saling and found a very nice coat, but didn’t see any of the (small) list of items I always keep an eye out for.  In particular I’d wanted to find a beater road bike for Youngest Brother, which I could upgrade from my rapidly dwindling set of parts and spares.  No dice though.  I had a good time drinking coffee and chatting with people, but at 9 I decided to call it quits and go for a long ride.  I’d meant to take Hush (rack, burly tires, pannier bags) up to a moderately obscure vineyard and then press on down familiar roads, as kind of a reintroduction to CT.  However, Hush has developed a wobbly rear wheel – the hub is warped, pretty much shot.  I’d messed with it some in DC, but the terrain there is more forgiving.  I didn’t want to take Hush uphill with a rear wobble and loaded pannier bags.  So that nixed the vineyard, as I didn’t want to carry a couple of glass wine bottles in a backpack as I rode. 

My choices were Lumina or the Little Red Rocket, and I chose the latter since I wanted to take a very long ride and Lumina (again) is geared for DC.  All in all it proved a great decision.  I would have died on Lumina and Hush would have broken down in the harsh hill conditions I ended up riding.

I decided to do my old commute into work to see how/if things had changed on the ride.  LRR proved to be up to all the hills (even the ones with names – you know it’s a serious hill when they name it.)  I did OK on the ride out.  I wanted to conserve something for a longer ride, but was able to pick up some pretty good time on the hills due to LRR’s gearing and lightness.  I *crushed* my prior time into work, which was nice, considering it was in the high 70s and moderately humid.  (I downed 2 liters of water on my ride, which should astound anyone that knows my desert rat tendencies.)  The day was gorgeous otherwise – plenty of sunshine.

I stopped for lunch in Colchester, visited the Polish bakery (no Polish Bakery Girl, alas!), then turned south.  In a short bit, I came across a man putting out an old Raleigh, roadside.  We chatted a bit and I asked if he’d hold it for me on the side of his house.  I rode on, more or less aimlessly past lakes and into the Devil’s Hopyard – a very cool state park, with waterfall, picnic area, and lots of small twisty pine trees that don’t seem to resemble the surrounding areas.  The devil is very popular in CT.  I left the Hopyard thinking I’d have an easy ride – and then I went up the hill from hell.  Michell Road?  (Should be The Devil’s Own Road).  It’s just after the Hopyard on the river.  I figured I’d take that right (west)  and aim for Gillette Castle and the CT river.  Instead I ended up on this monstrous hill to nowhere.  I kept glancing to the right to see if there were floor buttons.  Of course, most of the way up the hill, the road becomes unpaved.  So LRR and I gamely hopped and skipped along, and I end up coming out on an access road.  Seeing that I’d left my compass at home (stupid) and had no good road map of the area I was in (stupid) I tried to figure out what was west.  Turns out the road was north/south.  So I slogged  north, figuring I’d end up having a west option at some point.  No dice.  Just hill after hill after hill.  I ended back at the mouth of the Hopyard, totally wiped from all the hill riding.  I think there are no east/west roads in that part of CT.  Anyway, I gamely slugged back along the way I came, which was disappointing because I wanted to do a loop but was wary of adding an addition 10 miles on to the ride, as I was tiring fast. 

During all this there were only 3 other riders on the road – a Borged-out female roadie and two female mountain bikers.  Normally I like to ride alone, but I started becoming a bit paranoid that if I caught a flat, there’d be no one to help me out. (Not because the riders were female - but because they were completely sparse.  The female thing just adds to the oddness, given that. . .what, 1 in 10 roadies seem to be women?)

Eventually I passed another tagsale and saw an old Fuji (with steel wheels but Sun Tour bar end shifters?) propped against the side of a barn.  She’d seen better years, better decades actually, but she looked like she’d do just fine as a fixer upper.  Someone had put a $2 sticker on her, so I quickly scuttled along to the guy running things and told him I wanted her.  He seemed a bit surprised at the price but honored it (which was amusing, considering he was trying to unload an equally decrepit Raleigh Road bike as “an antique” – and I’m pretty sure the Fuji is older than that Raleigh.).   I left her locked to a local tree (I used my own lock and rode without one.) 

While I was talking with the tag sale guy, this totally odd roadie (apparently?) walked up to me and just started peppering me with questions – how much did I ride, how much had I ridden today, did it feel weird to shave my legs, where did I get my bike?  Not really spastic, but cripes guy, I’m not your teenage son or your confidant.  He said he was looking for a beater bike because he never rode his bike*s* in the rain.  I ignored the segue.  He then became gear obsessed and started talking about LRR.  “You got a full Ultegra set on that, wow!”  To which I mumbled, “Means I’m a better lay than you are.”  I think he caught most of it, because he totally went on the defensive. It wasn’t quite satisfactory, but at least it gave me some space.   

The final stretch homeward was odd.  I had no power on the hills.  Well, that’s to say I had power, but it was the “plug up them at 9-10mph” variety with no kind of reserve.  But on the straightaways I felt just fine.  Maybe a bit sluggish, but certainly not gassed.  I’ve never had that kind of split before.  Normally when I’m gassed I’m gassed.

Final tale of the tape was 72 miles.  I could have gone for the century if I looped through the flatter areas around here, but decided to go pick up the bikes, some food, and take a much needed shower. 

Tomorrow – Blueberry picking?  Novel reading?  Refubishing the Fuji?  Playing with the cat?  It could almost seem like summer.

Ride of Silence

Unfortunately, there is no Ride of Silence in DC.  (DC has a very apathetic biking community.)  But for my further flung readers (including my hometown, which does have such a ride) please consider spending part of your afternoon on a bike, on the road. 

Lack of Blogging, No Lack of Biking

Can be blamed on many things – mostly Book and School.  I’ve been doing plenty else,  or what passes for plenty else in law school (like watching a movie instead of reading over my outlines – whooo; rebel life!) but sometime the blogging just falls by the wayside. 

Today I went for the most gorgeous ride of the year, down Rock Creek, over the Key Bridge, through and past Alexandria and back; 37 miles, many small stops.  It's certainly full spring here in DC, and my $9 digi-spy cam is a great thing to have bouncing about in my pack; however if I stopped to take pictures of Rock Creek, the Georgetown Canal, the Potomac, the various important buildings and monuments. . .well, I wouldn't be at home blogging.  Why didn't I do that?  It sounds much nicer.  I did manage a quick shot of the Navy Marine Memorial.  Oh well.  While I was in Alex, I saw one of our former clients relaxing in the park, enjoying his sweet liberty. 

I also saw a rather exciting car accident, or rather, the immediate aftermath.  I looked up toward the “crunching metal” sound and saw a Cadillac Schoolbus SUV roll back from the rear end of a short commercial bus (one of those airport services I think) which had slowed down to take a right; the woman looked shocked and angry and had a cell-phone clenched in her hand.  The accident had taken place on a corner, and traffic could have continued in every direction except for the one lane the bus was in.  Someone immediately got out and started harassing the bus driver, shouting for him to move the bus; apparently it was too much trouble for that guy to take a left and drive around the block that was temporarily cut off by the bus.  I stayed to watch them all yell at each other for a bit, but when the angry driver got back into his car to drive around the block that was temporarily cut off by the bus, I left also.  Here’s a question – you’ve just rear ended someone at a good rate of speed, crushing the left front corner of your car and the right rear quarter of their vehicle; what gain can there be from being verbally abusive to (and thus completely pissing off) the driver of the car you hit.

As I rode I tried to review the federal rules of evidence in my head.  Often I can keep a running narrative going, compose poems, or chew over problems as I ride.  It’s, erm, sort of a half-thought process, which has certain advantages.  However today I kept blanking out.  I couldn’t concentrate on the FREs for more than 30 seconds at a time before becoming distracted and losing my train of thought.  I felt like that fish in Finding Nemo.  So, let’s assume I’d like to introduce a statement made by an unavailable third party to another unavailable third party. . .nice tree.  So, evidence.  I have a newspaper clipping that’s 10 years old but was an editorial. . .ooh, clouds. 

Now, firmly convinced I have some kind of braindamage that manifests itself on 80 degree perfect days, I’m going to try to bake a tuna thing.  This will be jazz cooking at it’s best.  I have no idea what the hell will be in that pan, but there will be little or no fat, lots of tuna, and some other oven-loving odds and ends. 

Post ride munchies are the worst.