Yesterday was the first bike ride of the season. Almost. Bike Guy and I dusted off our bikes, ready to hit the road after a long winter's rest, even though the weather was a little chilly, about 50 degrees, and threatening rain.
We decided to bike over to a local bikeshop to get him a rear fender (in case it did rain, it would prevent wetness from being thrown up against his back or thrown back into another rider's face) and for me to test drive a road bike. (I currently have a used front-suspension Kona mountain bike; I used to have a road bike once upon a time but gave it up thinking I'd never bike on these roads around here, because the roads are terrible--they don't call it the Motor City for nothin'--but I'm already thinking of a multiple-day ride for next summer and vowed not to do one again on a mountain bike.) We achieved our goals at the bike shop, about 2 or 3 miles from my place, and then we mapped out a route about 10 miles downtown to a tasty lunch spot.
We made it another mile or two before Bike Guy's rear tire blew out, due to a massive piece of glass. We happened to be in front of a biker bar (the Harley kind) when this happened, and though the neighborhood wasn't great and I was worried the bikers wouldn't take well to our kind (bicyclists), the owner came out and volunteered a patch kit. We decided to have lunch before repairing the tire because I was hungry and borderline cranky, and took seats at the bar, which was only inhabited by two other patrons, who appeared to be regulars. The bartender informed us that the kitchen was currently closed, because they were preparing for a huge barbecue party that night. However, the bartender offered us his own ham sandwich, which was roughly the size of a human head, filled with thick slabs of meat and slathered in mayonnaise and mustard. We took him up on his offer, and purchased some potato chips, a beer (for Bike Guy) and a soda (for me) to wash it down. Best. Sandwich. Ever.
After lunch, Bike Guy patched his inner tube and tried to glue the hole in the tire shut. We decided to head the mile or so back to my place because his tire definitely wouldn't last a 20-mile roundtrip, but we barely made it 5 feet before it blew again, loudly. We then walked the bikes dejectedly back to my place, feeling frustrated that the first ride ended so badly, even though we got lucky with the lunch and the friendly bikers.
Later that afternoon, we drive to the bike shop to buy a replacement tire and some other supplies with the intent of trying our bike ride again the next day. We spent the evening sipping whiskey and playing an 80s-trivia board game. The game's activities included acting and singing songs from various years in that decade, so the amusement provided by the game was directly proportional to the amount of whiskey consumed. Bike Guy does a mean breakdancing worm, and my knowledge of 80s song titles and artists meant that we each won one game. Drunk and silly, we retired for the night.
Today brought us equally chilly and rainy weather, but we determined to reach our goal of brunch downtown. Bundling up with layers of spandex and fleece, we mapped a route and set out through some historic neighborhoods and un-trafficked roads, arriving in a little over an hour to a feast of stuffed french toast and shrimp-and-crab hash. We lingered over lunch before tooling around downtown a little and heading back. The weather improved throughout our trip, and we arrived home in sunny, high 50-degree weather.
Just thought I'd share a great weekend with all y'all.
