And More Rain

Boo, rain. Boo, dark. Still, I sucked it up and took the Cross-Check up The Arlington and South Park before work. My wool cap was dripping right into my eyes on the descent. Rain....blinding...me! Must...keep...eyes...open!

Also, boo cats. One of the neighborhood cats has decided to make the doorway to the Mancave its very own litterbox. I didn't get around to picking it up, and now the poo is melting in the rain. A part of me dies every time I see it.

For the last couple of weeks, the rear brake on the CC has been making a terrible ruckus. I've been too lazy to deal with it, particularly since my commute is flat as a pancake. But the noise was just too unnerving this morning, coming down Grizzly Peak and Spruce. A quick check found that I had actually worn through most of the pads. I guess they went through many thousands of miles on the Atlantis. In fact, I don't remember ever replacing them.

Normally, I would have just spun this evening, but we're seeing the W's play the Spurs. I fear the holy hellfire Tim Duncan is going to unleash on the Warrior's front line. Good luck with that, Miki Moore.

Thursday, the Best Day?

That's what my co-worker believes. She likes that the weekend, with all its potential and promise, is right around the corner, but still far enough to look forward to.

My Thursday long-way-home ride wasn't the Best, but I'll take it. I'd been jonesing to get on the bike, since my last proper ride was on Saturday. Took it relatively easy on Tunnel. It was hot out, and the legs felt heavy.

I passed a gang of hipsters going up the road on old 10-speeds, and we all stopped briefly to watch an enormous buck eating the flowers off someone's yard. (I read this morning that these deer can spend their whole lives within 5 square miles.) What's with the messenger bags, hipsters? They're so much less comfortable than a backpack.

Decsending Grizzly Peak, I usually push hard to make it up the little dip where Shasta comes in. Tonight, I felt the bike go all squishy as I stood and mashed the pedals. Sure enough, a rear flat. WTF? That makes 3 flats in two weeks. Two front, one back. Or is it two back, one front? Anyway, I've found the debris every time, and the tape looks straight, so it's not a problem with the rim. Still, when I get this trend - and I feel like flats do come in sets - I get paranoid, and compulsively check the tire pressure every hour. Is that why I felt so slow on Tunnel?

All these flats are starting to cost real money, though. I don't like patching the tubes on the road - it takes too long and I"m never sure the patch will hold. And I don't like having a patched tube as my spare. So I guiltily end up tossing the punctured tube when I get home, and buy a new one. Plus, I use CO2, instead of a pump, so that's $ as well. At least the canisters are recyclable.

The Honda Avocado battery was dead - I left the dome light on last week while looking for my missing glove. So J-Lou and I jumped it, then used it as an excuse to drive to Larkspur for fancy soft serve cones from Picco Pizzeria. Worth the trip, and the battery seems good to go.