It’s Thursday already.
I think that’s a good thing.

I rode two really
good days on Tuesday and Thursday and now I’m tired and I sort of feel like
a biker again.

And now, how I
proved to myself that I am indeed smart – Yesterday it rained like hell for
the first part of the ride. I thought I’d be clever and ride the dirt roads
because there would be a lot less spray, and since there are lots of trees,
hopefully a lot less wind.

That’s the dumbest
thing I’ve ever thought up in my life.

What happens to
dirt when it gets wet, Jered?

Um, I don’t know,
it gets wet?

Correct, and when
dirt gets wet, it…

Gets really wet?

And…?

Um?

…turns to mud.

So I got muddy.
And it was awesome. I mean, awesome in that: wow-I’m-a-dumb-ass-I-wonder-why-I’m-so-dumb-but-since-I’m-done-might-as-well-have-fun
kind of way.

A few things from
yesterday:

1.) I broke a bottle
cage midway through the ride. No, that’s a lie, one of the bolts rattled out
somehow…I think I’ll go back and look for my 5mm long bolt today.

2.) My right cleat
came loose at some point, so it slipped back to around my heel…glad that I
finally started carrying a multi-tool with me when I ride. Good thing I did
that, because then I wouldn’t have had a tool to completely strip the bolts
with.

3.) I met the guy
grading the dirt roads, what a mean thing to do to perfectly perfect dirt roads…he
made the roads nearly impassable with all that grading and gravelling, but thanks
to my trusty cross bike, nothing is impassable. Thanks Cross Bike.

4.) I was so wet
and muddy at one point, when I came to a creek crossing, I hopped off and walked
on through and washed myself off a little bit. That was fun.

5.) I passed some
guy in the middle of nowhere going probably 10k/hr and he looked up at me and
said, ‘Pretty muddy today, eh?’ I said, Puff, puff, puff, ‘yes.’ We nodded at
each other, we shared a moment in time, somewhere where I don’t know where it
was.

I like riding my
bike.

Thanksgiving was
good. Jacob and I went to the Dowd’s and that was a very, very nice dinner.
Just thinking about it makes me hungry. It was the goodness.

So after that,
I did some on the bike testing over the weekend, and that was ok. I managed
to fill in the circles with my number two pencil. I’m not that dumb.

I went up to the
mountains yesterday and rode, that was cool too. It was all warm and stuff.
I rode with just a short-sleeve jersey and knee warmers (along with the normal
accoutrements). I said accoutrements. That’s dumb. Just plain dumb. Riding with
my big ol cross bike and fat tires makes all the climbs longer and that works
just fine for me. It also means that I can ride down any dirt road that I have
the balls to ride down and explore. That works out just fine for me too.

Also had what might
have been the worst food I’ve ever had in the whole entire world after practice
in Helen. The place that I wanted to go to was closed, as in, the place with
a German proprietor, where the German food might be ok. So I settled for the
place with chips and salsa on the menu, because that’s usually a great sign
for me. Chips and salsa. Yum.

We got the chips
and salsa and the chips were those yellow, circular, thick ones – the kind you
got in elementary school. Bad sign. Like an idiot, I ordered something that
wasn’t a hamburger and figured, well, since I’m in Fake Germany, might as well
have some fake German food, because even fake German food can be damn good…yeah…bad
bad bad news. I’ll just stop there, it makes me sad.

Actually, no, I
lied, I won’t stop.

I’m not one of
those, well, I’ve-been-to-Germany-and-I-know-what-German-food-is-supposed-to-be-like
types. I really don’t care all too terribly much, I like me some Johnsonville
Brats just fine, I like anything pretty much. In fact, I would have killed for
some Johnsonville Brats last night, with some sauerkraut right out of a jar,
and some potato salad from the grocery store – I’d be happy as a little boy
that just found a fresh, un-opened Snickers bar on the side of the road (or
a grown-up, whatever). But yeah, I was in Helen, the epitome of horrible kitsch-ness,
so my expectations were very, very low to begin with, but holy dear God, that
place should be bulldozed. I don’t care what kind of food that was…I wouldn’t
have given it to a dog, and certainly not a chihuahua. I think it would have
killed Samantha. Yeah, it definitely would have killed the poor thing.

The score almost
evened out with a funnel cake.

Mmm I like funnel
cakes.

Since someone just
asked me, I’ll tell you my opinion about dear old Helen, Georgia. Thanks for
asking. If you don’t care, or are one of those, I hate whiner types, then go
away.

Here are my heart-felt
thoughts and feelings about quaint, little, tourist-infested Helen:

I think Helen should
be bulldozed. Just wipe the place clean, rebuild, and set some minimum standards
for minimum quality, or at least minimum standards for vomitous kitsch-ness.
I mean really: Das Leather Shop? What the shit is that?

Who decided Helen
needed to be German? I wouldn’t pick Germany for that. Why not Italian. Italy
has cool stuff. Better yet, Mexico would work just fine, it seems everyone can
do at least an edible try of Mexican food. Then again Italian food is hard to
mess up – you know noodles, red sauce, maybe even pizza. Or, we don’t have much
in the way of Russia in America, why not try Russian? Or hell, bring something
people at least know a little bit about, you know, the language we speak, English?

Or you know what
would be best? Yeah, Amerrcan. Ooooh, why couldn’t Helen just be a quaint town
with no dumb theme? Why’d they have to go and make all their street signs end
with Str like it means Strasse instead of St street? Does anyone care? No. Does
anyone like cuckoo clocks? No. Do they even have funnel cakes in Germany? No.
Why are there at least five funnel cake shops in about 3.4 feet in Helen? I
don’t know. Why does every business have to fly a different flag for a different
state or country that speaks Germany-speak? I don’t know. Couldn’t they just
decide if they wanted to be just plain German, or Austrian, or Bavarian? I mean,
where’s the unity?

Someone should
unleash 1000 rats into Helen and call the health inspectors.

I haven’t complained
on me site in a long while. Feels good.

Alright so this
is it, I’m finished, I’m not writing anymore on my website. The internet is
so 1990.

Do people really
have to write that? Wouldn’t it just make sense to just stop writing? I’m guessing
someone would get the hint after a little while.

Which is why I
stopped writing for a month, to trick people.

It’s probably more
because of other reasons that I don’t like to talk or think about because it
really hurts my central nervous system (CNS) to think thoughts that are negative.
So whenever I do, and I need a little CNS jump, I grab some ice cream, an oatmeal
cream pie, and some frosting, and about 20 minutes later, I’m as good as new.
Just a little fatter.

Anyways…I’m doing
the biking thing again…riding, doing ‘cross, that sort of stuff. I’m finally
starting to do a little exploring on my own, and it scares the hell out of me.
Of course, normally I’ve got Jacob and he knows every road from here to somewhere
where I don’t know. I figure though, that it’s time for me to man up, step up
to the plate, learn me way around these parts, and that’s what I’m going to
do. Armed with time, a frame pump, and lots of tubes, I’m going to learn.

I went to Colorado
last weekend (that was a sweet topic shift) and had a little early Thanksgiving
courtesy of a friend of Oma’s buddy pass thing. She pilots for Frontier, so
every year she gets 10 round-trip buddy passes, and they only cost 50 bucks.
I flew to CO for 50 dollars roundtrip. That’s hot.

I like Colorado.
I’d like to figure out a way to get out there for January or something and just
ride the cross bike all over the place. There are open space parks everywhere,
and each park has tons of trails. Dirt roads are innumerable, and then if it’s
ever absolutely necessary there are paved roads as well. I’m getting giddy just
thinking about it.

Story time…

So yesterday, I
actually had some work to do and I wanted to get it all done before I went riding…so
it was about 3pm by the time I got to riding, and after two consecutive front
flats in the garage, I was on my way. I rode out and realized that I know a
little more than I thought I did about the roads, and ended up at Hawke’s Creek…there’s
going to be a 6/12 hour mountain bike race there on New Year’s and I’d like
to do it, so I figured I might as well do a first run…this was around 445
I think…

Yeah, so I stumble
out of the woods about 30 minutes later…it’s almost dark…and apparently
I’m still almost an hour from home, because I didn’t get home till 630.

Nothing like wincing
everytime a car drives by and crossing your fingers. Hey, but at least I now
know what time it gets dark, and once again it has been re-affirmed to me that
riding in the morning is much better than at night.

That is all.