Milk run

I'm currently in the midst of an experiment in car-free living. Well, not entirely car-free, because I still drive my employer's rigs around for work, but you get the picture. I've been commuting by bike all week, which isn't unusual, but this afternoon, it was time to mail off some bills and hit the grocery store.

I almost never bike to shop because I drink milk. Lots of milk. Two gallons at a time milk. And this is to say nothing of the half-gallons of half-and-half I buy to accompany my coffee habit. At any rate, having to lug 15 to 20 pounds of dairy fluids and whatever else I buy back up the hill in my messenger bag is just too much like work. Today, it would have to be just the necessities, and by necessities, I mean a half-gallon of skim milk, a bunch of green onions, and a two-pound block of Colby cheese (again with the dairy products).

My employer provides an indoor bicycle storage area, so I never have to leave my wheels locked up outside. The post office stop was straightforward enough but the grocery store would necessitate leaving the bike unattended for more than 15 seconds. The bench next to the bike rack was occupied by two shifty-looking, meth-addicted transients arguing loudly with one another, presumably over who had the most teeth left. Since I treasure even my beater bike, with its gift-from-Veelz frame, I ended up locking my ride to a cart corral, well away from Jimmy the Finn and his lady friend, and within sight of the inevitable in-store Starbucks barristas. I went in, scurried around, grabbed my stuff, and found myself in the express line behind another cyclist, standing aside his bicycle. I'm sure bikes aren't allowed in the store - liability issues, customer safety, newly-waxed floors, blah, blah, blah - but since forgiveness is easier to get than permission, I think that's what I'll do next time.

I learned a couple more things on the way up the hill afterwards. First of all, I realized that I'm pretty fucking worn out. Last Sunday's trail ride, also partly a gift from Veelz, was fun but it took a lot out of me. Yeah, I kept up with my gearie-riding buddy, but at great cost to my quads. I then started right in the next day with the bike commuting, just in time to experience springtime's aggravating afternoon headwinds. Today, I'd barely rested an hour after my afternoon ride home before I went back out for the milk run. All I can say is that once this car-free thing is over and I get a chance to recover, I had better have a stronger base.

The second thing I learned was that, while wearing a black bike jersey is a bad idea from a visibility standpoint, and an even worse idea when it's warm outside, the latter issue can be dealt with quite nicely by carrying an ice-cold, half-gallon of skim milk and a two-pound block of cheese in a messenger bag situated right over my kidneys. I may start to carry cheese around in my Camelbak while doing trail rides.

Lastly, I learned that living car-free isn't the easiest thing, even just for a brief stint. Plenty of people do it, and I admire those who use their bikes not just for fitness or fun, but for work, utility, and everything else that can be accomplished with pedal power. I'm sure I won't ever even come close to giving up the car completely, but I really should use my bike for more things.

Here's to hoping my legs don't fall off before I get to post again.

Sweet, sweet water

I was sitting around my house, recently rechristened Boredom Kingdom, this past Sunday trying to figure out if, when, and where I was going to go on my bike when out of the blue, I get a call from Veelz.

"We're going riding." he says. He pointed out later that he'd purposely not phrased it as a question.

So, would it be the new 36th Street trailhead, which leads to the same old Starr (Scar) Pass area, or the entirely new Sweetwater Trail system? I opted for the latter and within an hour, we were carving along one of the nicest, best-flowing trails in the Tucson area. The ride was easily 98% singletrack, the wildflowers were in full bloom, wildlife was abundant, and it was rigid singlespeedable at that. Too perfect. Cheers to everyone who made it happen.

More importantly, and without getting into the specifics, the ride was just what my soul needed - a ray of light in the otherwise dark times I've been working through lately. I have to genuinely thank Veelz for recognizing that I needed to be taken to see my therapist who, if you must know, has 180mm crankarms and mechanical disks.