When you're riding a bicycle for hours and hours and hours, you notice a lot of things on the side of the road. Actually, you notice a lot of things ON the road. If you've never ridden a bicycle long distances, you might be completely (and blissfully) unaware of just how much information is WRITTEN on the road. I don't know what a lot of it means. My favorite is the word "Sign" painted on the road with an arrow pointing to...... you guessed it..... a sign. Every time we go by that, I say, "Well, yes it is."
Unfortunately, there is also a lot of trash on the sides of the road. We used to see strands of cassette tape strung out along the road, but we don't see that so much anymore. We see the occasional random CD, but nothing like the number of cassette tape innards we used to see.
I have come to the conclusion that the trash on the sides of the road represents only things that are bad for you: cigarette packs, beer cans, soda cups, liquor bottles, fast food bags. I have yet to see an empty vitamin bottle that has been thrown from a car window. Neither do I see NutriGrain bar wrappers. Or even salad containers. In considering people who throw trash out on the side of the road, there must be some connection between the way they treat their bodies and the way they treat the environment.
I'm just sayin'.
High Points for today:
- Seeing 11.11, 22.22, and 33.33 on the bike computer.
- Missing 44.44 because we were screaming into camp at 11:00.
- Screaming into camp at 11:00 because of a shortcut that was mentioned on the route map (and thus sanctioned, at least in our way of thinking) that cut off 20 miles.
- Sharing the information about said shortcut with the unknowing at a couple of the rest stops. Reluctantly, because they did have the option of reading their OWN damn route maps.
- Discovering that the majority of riders intended to do the shortcut, thus making me feel less guilty. Oh who am I kidding..... I'm over the feeling guilty thing. After 19 BRAGs, I don't have a thing to prove to anyone. I can skip the whole freakin' day if I want to.
- Having dinner with our big ol' nephew (he's 6'8" and looks taller than that) and his wife.
- Katydid having the same cleat issue I had earlier in the week. Luckily for her, we were already in camp, and she was able to take a screw out of another pair of shoes to repair her cleat.
As excited as I was to come, I am equally excited to be going home tomorrow. I'm glad we came, I'm always glad to ride, and I'm glad it's over. We're already planning for next year, and we don't even know the route yet. I'm thinking there may be a loud outcry for a southern (flat) route after the difficulty of this year's route.
BRAG is a lot like childbirth.
In the middle of it, you ask yourself, "What the hell was I thinking?"
And as soon as it's over, you say, "Well that wasn't so bad. I think I'll do it again."