back from california and straight into a four day weekend. but my saturday afternoon SUCKED. for one, mah bike conspired against me and then someone stole the lock I threw in a bush. maybees I start from beginningz, yes? so, I woke up, and thought real hard whether or not I should take a shower first ORRR just go straight into a bike eating FRENZAYYYY-afterall, it had been a month since I got a chance to even take mah beautiful cervelo out for a ride-BUT I showered. and showered. and showered. now, before I left I came up with the brilliant idea of taking off one of my water bottle thingies-why? I'm still not too sure. anyways, I got water, and headed out to the cliffs.
I soon realized that my back wasn't used to carrying so much weight AND I was already 62.3% outta water 20 miles out. AHAHAHAHAHA.
I made it though and started heading off some trails. LO AND BEHOLD! a fork in the path presented me with a choice and I chose left. my rear wheel obeyed my commands that I hammered into the pedals-the front decided to rebel.
my chain rings grabbed me by my ankle and let me have it. my precious carbon steed threw me right into the dirt. did I deserve this? I'm sure it comes with the territory of stupidity; its jaws have been locked onto my ass since the ripe age of 4 years old and always had an interesting way to show off the scar. is that a run on sentence? maybe. doesnt matter. I got up, got angry at the teeth marks down my shin and started screaming obscenities at my bike. ofcourse afterwards I swept it for cracks and scratches.
I is WEARY.
after I straightened the handlebars-not thinking of the carbon steerer-I got back on and let it go... right into a giant mud puddle. at first I had no idea why my bike had slowed down until I seen that I didn't have enough clearance between my frame and tire for all the mud I had picked up. FUCK IT. I got off, (screaming again) picked up my bike, flailing it around like a caveman would, then dropped to my knees in self defeat. I was tired, dehydrated,and dirty as fuck. I loved it. except for the ant bites.
well, I decided to turn back and head for the lake to get the mud off. I just laid around and took pictures because I was too lazy to do anything else.
it was a while before I got all the muck off, but I perservered. I got back on after I realized I had a quarter of a water bottle left. I started freaking out cos my lips were really dry. I thought the end was near, even though i woulda been fine with some chap stick. stupid mexican.
I rode back and wheezed up the hills with one shoe on. oh, did I forget to tell that part? well. Ilostacleatsoihadtoridebackwithoneshoeon. there. it sucked, but it was really funny.
I got back on post around 530 and went to get my lock so I could grab some water at the store.
shuffle shuffle.
rustle rustle.
nothing!?
FUCKING NOTHING THERE.
the holy bush, the sanctuary of my bike lock, had been desecrated. it was jihad from that moment. I swear, when I find out who stole my bike lock I'm going to beat them with it. and I WILL find them; not many people ride bikes around here.
anyways, I've learned my lesson-don't put bike locks in holy bushes. people will STEAL them. I'LL FIND YOU, BASTARD!
so, ummm, I rode back (all depressed and shit) to my barracks and could barely stand once I slumped onto the floor. my back gave up on me. just...gave up :[
so I just layed there, all uncomfortable and shit, completely helpless. I was beaten. that whole afternoon was just a giant joke on me.
I need a fucking mountain bike.
No comments:
Post a Comment