Pulled 90 Miles Out of My Ass Today

I woke up this morning and wanted to ride bikes. To be fair, I wake up every morning and want to ride bikes, but today was one of those special days where you have super powers and you can ride way longer/harder than you’re built to. Nutrition and hydration, pacing, plans, training, blah blah blah, none of that shit matters on days like today. You ever have those days when you plan to ride 20 miles but you ride 3 or 4 times that? Them’s good I tell ya.

Here’s the whip:

Bought it from my buddy Rocky Kaufman, it’s Hebrew for Big Dick. Yup. Kona Rove, few years old. Teenage turtle green, came bone stock (with camo bartape), not bad, but also not completely my jam. Hey speaking of jam, what’s the difference between jelly and jam? Whoever answers that in the comments gets a prize. Jackass. Anyways, it sat in the garage for a few months until I started throwing old parts on it. Then I bought some nice parts for it, like those i9 hoops, #thafuck? Dirty calls it “Gucci shit on a Double Wide.” I takes what I can get. It’s like the offspring from a drunken night to forget between a cross bike and a mountain bike. Whatever.

So today’s plan was to go up and over the Lemmon. Didn’t really go over due to lots of snow, running out of daylight, etc…mostly because I’m a pussy, but a good ride nonetheless. I wore some sneakers, baggies and a t-shirt (all Club Ride…those guys kick ass and you should give them your money). Packed some beers and potato chips. Sat on roadie’s wheels, they even sat on mine at times…they didn’t know what the fuck was going on. Neither did I. Good times, here are some pictures.

Today was a good day.