Rain King

I down loaded my heart rate files last night. Apparently I rode less than 4 hours a week in May. In addition to life's normal distractions, there has been this strange phenomenon where, when I ride alone, the simple act of snapping into my Shimano pedals causes it to rain. Not gentle Spring showers; torrential rains. Rivers crest their beds, parking lots are submerged. This has happened with alarming consistency. And I feel responsible.

So it is with this back story I rode Brighton today. Alone. It was an excellent ride. I thought about how silly it was to think I was causing the rain, like god had nothing better to do than mess with me.

Halfway through the ride, the skies turned green. Then tornado sirens went off. Allie called me from her friends to tell me they had taken cover because of the tornado warning. Nice.

As I rode home, I pictured the wind pulling me up into the sky, like Miss Almira Gulch. I survived.

Earlier in the day I took another shot at cleaning out the shed. Last week I tried but I think the problem was I had too much ambition: I tired to get rid of the motorcycle that was a integral part of my tumultuous youth. Today I just tried to clean the rafters of the shed, nothing but an old bicycle and used tires. 20 sets of used tires. No one needs 20 sets of tires, I get that, but you need more than one set. A set of studded tires for riding on ice. And 2.2 Kenda Nevegals for snow, 1.5 Continental Cross-Country Pros for mud, 1.9 Maxxis Maxlite 310 for non-technical hard pack conditions, Gearx slicks for riding on roads in the Spring before the trails thaw, and apparently 15 other reasons because I didn't end up throwing out any tires. I will revisit the need for tires and my Yamaha RD350 later.

I considered the bicycle. My dad's 1932 Silver King. It looks like a mountain bike but of course it would be another 40-some years until Fisher (or Ritchey or Cunningham or someone) invented the mountain bike. But still, the bike has an 18" aluminum frame, wishbone rear seat stay, double butted spokes, and front suspension. And, although this bike has tubes, my dad said he had friends back in the 30's who had tubeless tires on their bikes. Sure seems like a mountain bike to me but so many people agree the mountain bike was invented in 1979 that I am not going to stand up and argue the point. Maybe they didn't have dirt trails before Gary Fisher either. What do I know.