When You Can't Ride, Buy.

I didn't ride Tuesday, so the family drove down the mountain to go shopping. The lower we went, the more the temperature climbed. Even though the lightning had faded by 2:00 PM, the heat and humidity were significant enough that the locals were commenting about how bad it was. Since my diet in Virginia has mainly consisted of pork BBQ, peanut butter crackers, and lemon Sonic Slushes, nobody would want to come across the oil slicks that would be left behind me as I melt on the climbs. Mornings are my time to ride.

I plotted a family-friendly course that allowed me to visit my favorite Roanoke bike store and talk to the owner about custom kit while the rest went to quaint used book and toy stores. Win-win.

I ended up buying stuff from events I wasn't present for, either as a participant or a spectator. The first was a jersey from the 2015 Richmond World Championships. I lived there longer than I'd like to remember, in an apartment along the course. I watched Peter Sagan earn a well-deserved victory there on TV. I have friends and family that were present to see it. I've ridden countless laps on Zwift's virtual representation of the course. None of that justifies me having the jersey, but I liked it, so fuck you.

The second was a t-shirt from Roanoke's Twilight Criterium, which was a big race in these parts. I like the soft shirt and the design, so, again, fuck you.

Because I made these purchases in full view of my family, without the normal attempts to hide them, I was immediately obligated to buy things at the next several shops to even the score. Expensive lesson learned.

I need to get back on the bike, because it's cheaper that way.


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