Friday, October 12, 2012

Georgia BikeFest 2012 Friday.....

EDITED TO ADD: I have no idea what happened to this post last night. I'm pretty sure I clicked "Publish," but I can't guarantee it. I will back date it so it doesn't look like I have two posts on the same night. Because I'm weird that way. 

Tonight you get somewhat of a break from my yammering. I took a few photos on today's ride, but not enough to capture the essence of the day.

Rozmo and I waited until about 9:00 to leave this morning, which was heavenly compared to the 6:00 AM we usually try to leave on BRAG. We wanted to give it a chance to warm up so we wouldn't have to dress in layers that we would later have to take off. And try to track down a sag vehicle to retrieve them when we got back.

Today's route was the Saturday route from last year, which basically means it sucked. A lot of shake and bake (that's we call rough pavement), and it was almost entirely in Alabama. Strike two. Lots of hills, but we couldn't complain about the weather. It was very pleasant when we left, and while it got hot this afternoon, we've ridden in a lot worse heat.

Rozmo makes the cutest pictures. She does silly things and looks adorable. When I do silly things, I look stupid. I'm trying not to hate her for it.

We stopped to take a picture of Poorhouse Road, and Rozmo found a campaign sign for someone with her same last name. In fact, except for the "y" in Roy, it could have been Rozmo running for chief justice.

Rozmo was supposed to be taking a picture of me under the Poorhouse Road sign, but we had a delay while I got the fire ants out of my cycling sandals. I didn't even curse.

See what I mean? I look dorky.

I'm afraid my attempt at a photo essay didn't come through very well. I was trying to convey the idea that if I DO go to the poorhouse, it will be due to the expenses associated with cycling.

This is the river above which we are camped. This is before they let the water through, which they do at 3:00 every day.

Looking downstream. Or upstream. In the other direction.

I have no idea what this contraption is called, but it will accommodate seven "cyclists," one of whom must be the driver.

Me, Rozmo, Cheryl, Chuck, and Jerry. Steve joined us after this picture was taken, and when we started figuring out how to drive it, we were joined by Ramsey (isn't that a cool name?), a young lady who works for the bike shop. She took us a couple spins around the block, even among the spectators gathered to listen to the band. I love street dances. But I didn't dance this year.

Rozmo, Steve and I had dinner at a place where they have a $30 hamburger, and if you can eat it -- alone -- in under 30 minutes, you can have it for free. It's three hamburgers with all the toppings, PLUS you have to finish off the chili cheese fries that go with it.

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