This morning I dropped off the car at Heavy T's Automotive in Bellevue, down by the infamous toll bridge that charges cyclists 50 cents to cross. I unloaded Old Yeller from the car and wished for a long ride into Glenwood, IA. But responsibility called and I turned northwards.
Along the way, Fred didn't see me while he commuted by bike to his new job not at the UP. Having Fredcube work elsewhere bums me out because the therapeutic United Way campaign haiku sessions won't be the same anymore. Bummer #2 is missing Fredcube fending off the attacks by Reed and Wes over lunch rides.
Such is life.
But I know that Fred didn't see me while riding to work today because I didn't hear him curse and swear at me as I rode by. He also mentioned it that he didn't see me on his blog.
I'd like to imagine what if Fredcube saw me while he rode to not-UP today. Long before he could recognize that it was Old Yeller approaching, venom would have been flowing. In his mind's voice, he'd be critical about the way I was riding, or the clothes I was wearing. Maybe even the bike I was riding. But as I approached, Old Yeller would have struck fear in his heart. In his weakened state, would he let it out, or bottle it up only to go critical-mass on some helpless chap down the path?
Anyway, driving the car 19 miles in the opposite direction from work to only then ride by bicycle back was a good way to start the day. But it came with a twinge of guilt. I mean, I'm riding to work and enjoying the exercise just after dropping off old smokey to be fixed. Indeed, it is not unlike smoking without inhaling?
I wonder if I inhaled the exhaust my car had just created when Fred didn't see me riding to work today.
Something for Fredcube
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With football season in full swing, I figured it was time for me to dust
off the tale of my greatest moment on the gridiron.
It was while I was in High Sch...
5 years ago
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