It rained earlier this week. The air smelled strongly of dog shit and I frequently checked the soles of my boots to ensure that I hadn't inadvertently stepped in a pile of the disturbing substance.
No, it wasn't me...just Georgia.
Since returning to Fort Gordon, life has been just like WLC, Army. I've had slightly more responsibility at work forcing me to work a few extra hours during the week and put the needs of others before my own. I even got to work through a weekend by moving all my personal belongings from one barracks room to another and attending an M16 qualification range.
Fortunately, I was rewarded the next weekend with a 4-day pass which I took full advantage of by flying to Chicago to see The Trish and her feline companion, Mr. Neville Thatcher. Chicago was piss cold, but beautiful nonetheless. We opted to be tourists on a Sunday and rode a rocket of an elevator to the top of the Sears Tower to catch a glimpse of the city from 103 floors above ground level. The sky was clear and the city lay below us in all its urban majesty and glory. After our return to Earth, The Trish coughed up five bucks to a bum and we ate lunch.
Good times.
The riding of late has been somewhat scant. I did ride on a weekend who's date I cannot remember and was able to muster enough strength to break the chain off of my single speed on a down pedal two-thirds of the way into my ride. The walk back to the truck was long and I lazily have not ordered or purchased a new chain. Today, I showed up for the 0830 Warehouse ride and got in a wonderful spin with about eight other riders. One rider, who I spent most of the ride talking to, had just moved to Georgia from WVU where he had been attending grad school for the past five years. We swapped war stories from our life and times in the great state of West Virginny and I promised him a smorgasbord of trail information in regard to his new home in the durrrrty south. The ride itself was tough as Nate led us up four significant climbs that dropped me to the back of the pack and left my young body in confusion and fatigue.
Seven solid weeks out of the saddle is not good. Not good.
In other news, I will be flying to Fort Meade, MD on Sunday to attend a job related school for the next three weeks. I will also seek out various bike shops, trails, and pubs in the area to shake hands and prepare for my unofficial change of station to my new home.
Reality or fantasy...hopefully we will know in a few short weeks.
Get Riding!
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