Stupid Hurts

A few members of the Atlanta Sedition Orchestra invited me to ride this months Critical Mass with them on Friday. Not being one to turn down a chance to act silly in traffic I gladly accepted and rode with them.
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They warned me before hand that the Atlanta mass was a lot bigger than any of the others I had ridden before, but even being told that did little to prepare me for a park that was just bursting at the seams with bicycles.
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As I took a moment to let it all sink in, someone asked me. “You aren’t from around here are you?”
“Nope.”

Apparently it was obvious that I was not used to seeing that much random bike culture in one place. Fortunately I am already familiar with what goes down at a Critial mass just not exactly on this sort of scale. I am sure there were over 200 people in attendance. Before the mass got started someone who watched me ride up asked me to give them a wuick course on “Power sliding for dummies” according to them I make it look easy. I felt honored almost.

Then the mass got underway. There is something about a tidal wave of bike several city blocks long thats just amazing. It was a wonderful thing to be a part of.
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This was too good to pass up. We talked about this post race, but here is the whole story for the rest of you.

From James

So, I raced in the Broken Hearts and Bicycle Parts race last night and lost my partner(partner’s race) after a bad intersection and a wrong turn. So I decided to finish solo since I couldn’t reach him on his cell. I was about a 1/2 mile from the finish you have to climb a hill that isn’t too steep, its just fairly long. The traffic in the direction I was heading there were like three lanes. I was in the far left lane (holding my lane) when this Lexus comes up behind me and starts honking. I then began to signal that I was about to turn left and the Lexus gets impatient and tries to pass me. So I almost freaked out because they nearly hit me. So as I turn my head to watch out for the car, I threw up all over the hood and windshield. It was great. I actually was laughing and puking at the same time!! I booked the hell out of there and onto a side street. But it was really worth it. I don’t know why I puked. I think I may of just pushed myself too hard and had too many beers before the race. It was great though.

We all had a blast and some of the stories i have heard like this one made it worth while.

The past week has been kicking my tail. Between lying in bed battling [tag]disease[/tag] and roaming the [tag]streets[/tag] trying to figure out new and inventive ways to kill myself I have been keeping pretty busy.
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[tag]May[/tag] is ride your [tag]bicycle[/tag] to work month aparently, So Thursday found me at health conference trying to promote bicycle as a safe and healthy form of [tag]transportation[/tag]. Unfortunately about everyone has come and gone before noon, so about one in the afternoon it turned into a gossip session and meet and greet between the vendors. Luckily I thought to bring the [tag]Tour[/tag] De [tag]France[/tag] highlights movie with me.
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Ironically Friday found me taking to the streets with the [tag]Stillwater[/tag] Critical mass group to engage in some really unsafe riding in the streets downtown. A group of about 20 cyclist invaded traffic during rush hour and rode around on some of the busiest streets in town. Most of the time I was herding the slow riders in the back and running messages to the front of the pack. Not really my scene but I did meet some really nice people.

Saturday Sarah, Liz and I rode our bikes out to [tag]Boomer[/tag] lake. The scenery was awesome and made a great end for a really interesting week.

Oh and I found out I may have Mono!

My [tag]work[/tag] assignment today carried me down to [tag]Dothan[/tag], [tag]Alabama[/tag]. The last time I had been there was in december during the “Tour De Stupidity.” After we were done with our work in Dothan and headed back to the warehouse, we followed part of the route I took north to [tag]Montgomery[/tag]. For a moment it seemed like time in the truck cab sighed, and then swallowed me whole.

I watched the shoulder of the road get smaller and rougher. And a since of pride swelled up in me. The part of U.S. [tag]231[/tag] we were on was the mentally toughest day of my bicycle trip. Fighting fast traffic without a real shoulder and coping with my own near exhaustion has left me very close to the point of breaking. That was the day I spent an hour in lying in the grass staring at the sky till I was able to convince myself to get back on my [tag]bike[/tag] and fight for a few more miles.

I still feel like I know that bit of road almost intimately. It was like hugging an old girlfriend, and remembering how she liked to be touched. I was reminded how I fought with that road for a few miles at a time, and how it fought back to make me quit. After seeing the condition of the road it doesn’t even seem realistic that I made it home at all. I wonder if my [tag]determination[/tag] was really that blind at the time. Could I do it again if i had to?

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Then we passed the big metal chicken and I realized my legs hurt. Turned out I had been subconsciously flexing them and unflexing them the way I do when I pedal, for about the last 40 miles. Did a single stretch of road leave that big of mark on me?

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