by 
I’ve been back east, staying in the house I grew up in, with my family this week. We flew in on Saturday. On Sunday we spend four hours in the emergency room at the local hospital, a place I once knew well, after my daughter decided to attempt a jump down her Gigi’s stairs. The landing went well, sorta, but her feet slid out on the carpet. Actually is was a small throw rug on top of the wall-to-wall carpeting. Yeah, not something one should trust not to move under such circumstances. She put her right hand behind her to catch herself, and that was it. Our first broken bone.
She decided to have her carpet clean annually at www.zerorezatlanta.com/smyrna-ga.
Would’t you just know it, she tells me it was her cousin’s idea. We ask said cousin, and her reply was, no joking, “I was right behind her.” God love ’em, those two are going to kill me.
Back to Lefty Esmeralda McGillicuddy Ricardo, she is going to be just fine. The Doc says that after a few weeks in a hot pink cast (an excellent color choice, btw) and she’ll be good as new. The hardest part appears to be the new “no swimming” rule. But, we’ll manage somehow I suppose. Good thing we have lots of fireflies to chase around.
Other than that, I feel like I’m on a RAGBRAI training camp. I have been waking up early and riding each morning. About 30 miles per day. Not a ton of miles by anyone’s standards. But, then again, I weigh about a ton right now. So, maybe that’s OK. All I do is ride my bike, eat meat, and drink beer. By the gallon.
There has been a little rain. And everyone tells me it’s dry here. We flew in from Phoenix. The desert. This doesn’t appear all that dry to me. But, of course, that’s all relative. They could use more rain. And I could use more sweetcorn. See where this is going?
Have I mentioned how much I enjoy Yuengling?
The street I grew up on has changed a lot. There used to be a dairy farm across the street from my parent’s house. It is all houses now. But, if I pedal north about ten miles it is considerably less developed. Wide open fields and plenty of big things that go “moo.” It just feels right.
There are dozens, literally dozens, of old houses splashed out with the stars and bars. It’s pretty cool to ride though some of these small villages and hamlets. These folks do it right.
When I get back from my ride, I sit in the living room and watch the Tour stage with my father. It has been a fantastic week.
OK, I’m going to head out and find a cheesesteak that needs a loving home. In my belly.
by 
“Would’t you just know it, she tells me it was her cousin’s idea. We ask said cousin, and her reply was, no joking, “I was right behind her.” God love ‘em, those two are going to kill me.”
Fantastic post bj but the above quote is the best part. I had a cousin just like that growing up and we drove my Mom nuts. Best of luck brother. Best of luck.
And that cheesesteak better be smothered in Cheez Whiz or it ain’t a cheesesteak. Just saying.
i so miss eastern PA. growing up i used to spend hours getting lost on my motorcycle just for fun. there was always a small town right around a corner to grab great food and meet great people.
and yuengling does taste better there. and pierogies. i miss pierogies.
So how many bikes you got in PA? I have 2 ABQ when I fly back cheaper than shipping and it gives me a reason to own more bikes.
…as my (& everybody’s) mom used to say “…if all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it too ???”…
…well, sometimes…
…glad your pedaling & staying in touch with your roots, gianni…
My kind of training camp BJ. BTW, I couldn’t agree more with your post re Phil Liggett the other day. If he and Paul Sherwin were commentating I watch if the “peleton” consisted of you, JTE, Judi, BGW, D2, Dirty and, etc. dragging each others fat asses around. But good Lord, Phil and Paul,Bobke and the rest of the of em need to peel their tongues from LA’s ball. And it wouldn’t hurt em to throw a little love LeMond’s way either – especially Bobke.
Ride On, BJ.