It's 6:00am...do you know where your bike shorts are?
It was colder than a you know what, in a you know what. Indeed that's how it played for myself and The Ginger Daddy this last Saturday morning. It was a classic combination of The Giro Mendota and future to be named St. Paul grinder (Shepard Road-East River Road). Our toes were cold and so were our....umm...noses.
The TOWER of POWER
The Ginger Daddy brought his game this morning and he didn't hold back. Two Pop-Tarts and a glass of juice were all the fuel needed for this man to jump start an awesome ride. I don't want to be presumptuous, and I know doping is absolutely forbidden – and so far, the team is scandal free..but one does have to wonder...who's policing TEAM SPROCKETS?
Stroker Aced by the Ginger Daddy
Plato(Ohio) Hill is the moment of truth, unfortunately for yours truly. We started at the bottom together, but he dropped me like a drug store playground ball. He was gone, and I could barely see him. I reached the top and before I knew it... The Ginger Daddy had two fingers to his lips and...BLAMMO! I was on the recieving end of a LUXO-D KISS OFF! Audacious! Clearly, I knew he achieved Stroker ACE! I did redeem myself later through Old Mendota on a lesser hill. I was satisfied...but the score was on the board.
Sand BLASTED on The Mendota Bridge
The WIND was like nothing I have encountered to date. A terminal WALL of swirling vortex Fury...from all directions. I imagined this combination with rain – luckily the fate was with TEAM SPROCKETS. It was at it's worst on the bridge...sand BLASTED our faces...the sting of competition...a sober reminder that "the game of cycling" has another player...Mother F'ing Nature...uhhh hmmmm.