Mindless 50

Today was our third perfect biking weather day. The weather gods are kind. And my Sunday blahs went away after an unusual eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Lord, I needed that.

There are two theories as to my Sunday malaise. One is Blissful Britt‘s theory that the Five Guys gut bomb I had for dinner Saturday night blew up inside me. The other is John Fisher’s comment that I may have been reacting to the flu shot I had on Saturday, because the dose is higher for people of a certain vintage.

Speaking of vintage, as of mid-August I am now in a higher risk age bracket for Covid-19. Just shoot me.

The Mule and I had nowhere to go so we went to the Mount Vernon Trail to dodge noobs. The trail is packed with people who don’t normally use a bike trail. We took our time managing not to get hit or to hit anybody. To my surprise it wasn’t nearly as crowded as I expected.

I rode all the way to DC when I had to decide where this ride would go. Then it occurred to me that if you don’t know where to go, ride around in circles. I headed to East Potomac Park where Ohio and Buckeye Drives make for a flat 3.3 mile circuit. The road was packed with bikes and other self-powered humans. The lawns along the sides all had picnic-ers and fisherpeople and hammock hangers and such. A few parked cars were blaring music. One van had its rear doors open the better to maximize the boom from a mega boom box.

I stopped a couple of times to pick up stray golf balls from the raggedy course in the middle of the park. I think my summer shag stash is approaching three dozen.

I rode my usual pace and let my mind drift. Every so often I’d ride through a cloud of weed smoke. Too bad I was wearing a mask. I swear I could have had a free buzz if I slowed down.

After 6 laps (20 miles) I headed back home on the trail. After about 44 miles I was starting to flag. I had homemade diner breakfast and it was wearing off.

I could ride the last six miles home in my sleep and nearly did. All told I made it 50 miles.

I could get used to this.