Pickers and Grinners

Sunflowers remind me of road trips to Colorado.

Summer seems to be in full swing and quickly disappearing before it can be fully enjoyed. Riding has been scarce for me lately.  I guess technically it's long rides that have been scarce, "riding" has been squeezed in here and there. Racing almost non-existent. Races have been falling on weekends where I've been out supporting events for the shop, which has me less than inspired to find "fitness".

The last two Wednesday mornings have involved a few CX compatriots and a big grassy field. We ride/pseudo-race for a few hours before work. It's been a great mental break and reboot of the self morale. Combined with our normal Wednesday night rides, it makes for a solid day of cycling and keeps me from complete curmudgeonry (mostly).

The other rides have just been short jaunts playing in parking lots or running errands to Kroger. For some reason screwing around on bikes after a long stressful day eases the pain. It reminds you of why you chose to break free from the cubicle and follow your folly. Mostly it takes you back in time and you feel like a kid during summer break.

Of course nothing brings out the kid in you than shooting one another with nerf guns. Just remember to wear your eye protection.

The most consistent riding has occurred on the farm. We've had a lot of rain over the past week and a half and although it's meant extra, extra mowing, it has filled the pond back up. The boys and I have wasted no opportunities getting out and swimming between riding laps of the CX course and trails. If only I could figure out a way to keep the pond full year round...

Nothin' like a good woller. 

Then in the "wow you grew up 40 miles from me and raced many of the same mtb races I did" department, American Picker Mike Wolfe stopped in the shop the other day. He and his wife were out shopping and popped in. He was quick to ask about my Moots Rigormootis and then took a spin on Brian Baker's new Frosti, to which H. piped up with "So he's not only interested in junk!" Funny, funny girl.

Of course, I was interested in his bike. A 1937 all original (including the paint) Harley-Davidson with sidecar. Picked from a barn in Pennsylvania. Pretty sweet. Here's to my fellow cornfed kids following their folly.