Saturday, April 02, 2011

Rites of Spring

The first real ride of the season - a seventeen mile soupcon south of Iowa City. Many cyclists joined me in this grim and painful salute to a glorious, sunny day. I wondered why everyone I passed on the way out looked so dour - I suppose it was because of the wind, which the weather website claims blew at fifteen miles an hour. On the way out it gave me the impression that I was in great shape and would have my summer fitness back in a week; on the way back it revealed that it had been lying and toying with me and that actually I was a fatty who was going to get all out of breath and wish for a Clif bar and a kindly van driver.

This was a complete ride - I got to offer help to some stranded cardiologists (they declined, I guess they had extra tubes), and to tell an angry SUV driver that I felt that his honking and swerving denied my subjectivity. He did not think that cyclists should turn left. Perhaps I had pulled out into the road to turn too abruptly, and was a little at fault. He may have needed to apply the brakes, or at least slacken his acceleration, which as we all know is bad for gas mileage and hence mother earth.

I also saw two cute Basset hounds, one of whom smiled at me and lumbered towards me while looking at me with his eyes.

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