The weather was marginal for bicycle riding on the first day of the KBC riding season. Although it was rather balmy for the second Monday in March, there was still a fair amount of snow on the ground. But, I am not at all choosy when it comes to cycling weather in March. So, I made it a point to show up for the first ride of the season, just to say that I did it, and to add another line to the list of accomplishments to be included in my obituary.
However, what I hadn't anticipated was that, while the roads were clear of snow, the parking lot of Texas Drive Park was still covered by the stuff. I had assumed that it would be plowed, but upon instantaneous reflection, after I failed to recognize the easternmost entrance to the park, why should Texas Township spend money doing this, if the park isn't going to be used during the winter? By the time I reached the next entrance a couple hundred yards later, I had determined that if I wanted to park in the parking lot, I'd have to work for it, which actually meant that my car would have to work for it. And I was going to do this ride, no matter what.
As I made the left turn into the park, I observed that there were numerous tire tracks leading straight towards the playground equipment and restrooms, which was reassuring. However, I needed to turn left again and after I did, I made three more observations. 1) That there were very few tire tracks ahead of me. 2) That the snow was deeper than I thought. 3) That I should bail out now. Of course, while acknowledging numbers 1 and 2, I decided to ignore my third observation, and 20 yards later, my car was stuck in snow. It was 50 degrees and my car was stuck in snow.
Now, if I were a better man, I would have light-heartedly chuckled at the irony of the situation, but I'm stuck with being the man that I am: a man who futilely guns his engine while shifting between drive and reverse, while not-so-light-heartedly commenting upon his intelligence. A couple minutes later, I knew that I now had three options. 1) Wait for the snow to melt, and while I didn't have any food with me, I had a water bottle, so at least I wouldn't die of thirst. 2) Call for a tow and ensure my legendary status among that small fraternity of tow truck operators as The Idiot Who Got Stuck in Snow When It Was Almost Twenty Degrees above Freezing. 3) Depend, Blanche DuBios-like, on the kindness of strangers to help rescue me. After a few minutes, a kind stranger did indeed appear from his Jeep, and with his muscle and my uncanny ability to press on a piece of rubber, we freed the car from its snowy prison. Then I drove back to my house, where I found the common sense that I had forgotten to bring with me, and I did a solo ride.
Two days later, I made my appearance at the first Wednesday night ride of the year. While driving to work that morning with my bicycle loaded in my car, I realized that I left all my bicycle tools in the seatpost pack of my other bike. However, I still had a couple tubes with me and I also had my mini-pump. So, if I had a flat, I could always use my teeth to help pry the tire off of my rim. But, in order to save some possible wear and tear on one of my favorite food chewing items, I borrowed a spoon from our office kitchen as a potential makeshift tire lever and brought it with me to the ride. However, as a second realization, while driving to the ride from work, what I wasn't bringing with me were cycling gloves.
This was not the first time that I had forgotten my cycling gloves. On the first day of DALMAC in 2012, I threw my camping and clothes bags on the baggage truck about 5 minutes before discovering that both pairs of my cycling gloves were also heading to our destination via truck. So, I rode gloveless. Then there was that KalTour, when after a few miles, I looked down and discovered that in my haste to begin the ride by an artificial deadline of 8:00 A.M., I had put on only one glove. I suppose that this could have been my unconscious tribute to Michael Jackson a couple years before his death, so I suppose I could have been psychic, too. My solution to this problem was to switch the glove from one hand to the other at each SAG stop, wearing it inside out when "appropriate."
Before the start of the Wednesday night ride, another rider noticed that I was riding without gloves and offered to let me borrow a spare pair of gloves that he had with him. I turned him down, in order to teach myself a lesson about forgetfulness that I'm sure I'll forget. It was probably for the best, anyway, since in our unfortunately-as-fast-as-I-expected-it-to-be group, I had the honor of being the first person dropped (another accomplishment to list in my obituary), and by the time I got back to the KalHaven Trail parking lot, he was gone.
And, unfortunately, this particular form of forgetfulness/absentmindedness/stupidity has not been solely confined to my cycling endeavors. The week before the start of the KBC ride season, I sent a birthday card to my niece and a bill to my cable company. A few days later, I got an e-mail from my niece thanking me for the card, but noting that the check I had enclosed was not made out to her and was for more that the expected $24. (It was her 24th birthday, so this is going to get expensive by the time she turns 100.) A couple days later, I paid a visit to the cable company and was told that they received, as I expected, a check for $24. What I didn't expect, however, was that they cashed it, even though the check was made out to my niece. And now that I'm armed with this information, this presents all sorts of exciting possibilities when I pay future cable company bills. I'm debating whether to make their next monthly check out to "Lance Armstrong," "Adolph Hitler," or "Hey, How About Giving Me Free HBO." But, for the time being, I just paid the remainder of my bill and sent a new check to my niece.
And, getting back to my cycling endeavors, on a Saturday afternoon ride a week and a half after that Wednesday night ride, I was three-quarters of the way to Lawton, when I reached into one of the pockets of my cycling jersey to find that I had left my mini-pump at home. I did have two CO2 cartridges, so I least I could have fixed a flat, if need be, but it's the principle of the thing. I'd like to think that I'm actually capable of bringing something with me that I "always" bring. At least I'm still batting a thousand when it comes to remembering to wear cycling shorts.
So, this could be a long cycling season. Or a short one, since I may not remember it all. And, eventually, they can put in my obituary, "He accomplished something."
Rick Whaley, KBC Newsletter Editor
