First Ride.
Due to my magic time machine of banked blog posts, you're reading about my first ride of the season ten days after it happened.
Yep, my first ride was on April 13th. Friday the 13th, to be exact.
Cue the ominous music.
Actually, it was a beautiful day. The temperatures had shifted sufficiently in the past couple days to kill the residual glaciers that were left on the streets, leaving behind a few spots of over-tire fording, but mostly dry pavement. The street sweepers had cleaned off most of the streets in the more populated areas of the base well enough, with the rest being limited to the occasional gravel pile. Not bad. Not bad at all.
I brought the new Moots into work, because... Moots. I overdressed, and had to shed forty or so layers in the parking lot. I left the fenders off, figuring I would be fine with a little puddle spray. Plus, I didn't want to wait anymore. I wanted to ride.
I stared at my foot as I clipped in the left pedal, took a deep breath, and pushed off.
I had to remind myself that this wasn't a trainer ride. Back the fuck off, dude. Part of it was I wasn't sure how I would respond to the variability of the actual world. I didn't want to kill myself in the first hour and then have to slog all the way home. I have to build back up my endurance. However, the main reason was that I didn't want to hit a gravel pile or other road obstacle and go down. In my current risk-adverse state, I just want a few decent rides under my belt before I have a season-ending injury. Just like my endurance, I have to build back up my casual disregard for personal safety. These things take time.
The ride was nice. Even backing off, I managed a decent pace into the wind. It wasn't the best ride ever, but it was a nice ride. In fact, I think the only complaint I had was that my cycling cap's hem had rolled under my helmet slightly, digging into the back of my head. I didn't notice until I was almost finished, so I let it go. If that's as bad as rides get this year, it's going to be a great season.
And the Moots? I still have some fit issues to work out because I rushed the build a bit. I handicapped it by running my heaviest, 36-spoke wheels with lower-grade tires. As such, it's potential was probably blunted a bit. Still, it was pretty much what I hoped for. It responded well, not flexing excessively under load and not giving the impression it would be happier with 80 pounds of touring luggage strapped to its back. I didn't do any sprints or serious intensity, but when I mashed, it moved. So far, so good.
So, my season started. Probably a week or two too late, but I'm out there.
Yep, my first ride was on April 13th. Friday the 13th, to be exact.
Cue the ominous music.
Actually, it was a beautiful day. The temperatures had shifted sufficiently in the past couple days to kill the residual glaciers that were left on the streets, leaving behind a few spots of over-tire fording, but mostly dry pavement. The street sweepers had cleaned off most of the streets in the more populated areas of the base well enough, with the rest being limited to the occasional gravel pile. Not bad. Not bad at all.
I brought the new Moots into work, because... Moots. I overdressed, and had to shed forty or so layers in the parking lot. I left the fenders off, figuring I would be fine with a little puddle spray. Plus, I didn't want to wait anymore. I wanted to ride.
I stared at my foot as I clipped in the left pedal, took a deep breath, and pushed off.
I had to remind myself that this wasn't a trainer ride. Back the fuck off, dude. Part of it was I wasn't sure how I would respond to the variability of the actual world. I didn't want to kill myself in the first hour and then have to slog all the way home. I have to build back up my endurance. However, the main reason was that I didn't want to hit a gravel pile or other road obstacle and go down. In my current risk-adverse state, I just want a few decent rides under my belt before I have a season-ending injury. Just like my endurance, I have to build back up my casual disregard for personal safety. These things take time.
The ride was nice. Even backing off, I managed a decent pace into the wind. It wasn't the best ride ever, but it was a nice ride. In fact, I think the only complaint I had was that my cycling cap's hem had rolled under my helmet slightly, digging into the back of my head. I didn't notice until I was almost finished, so I let it go. If that's as bad as rides get this year, it's going to be a great season.
And the Moots? I still have some fit issues to work out because I rushed the build a bit. I handicapped it by running my heaviest, 36-spoke wheels with lower-grade tires. As such, it's potential was probably blunted a bit. Still, it was pretty much what I hoped for. It responded well, not flexing excessively under load and not giving the impression it would be happier with 80 pounds of touring luggage strapped to its back. I didn't do any sprints or serious intensity, but when I mashed, it moved. So far, so good.
So, my season started. Probably a week or two too late, but I'm out there.
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