My last big training ride for the DK200 went down last night like a rainstorm down a gutter. I was in a weird head-space and in turn forgot bringing my damn cycling shoes. This was the first of way too many hiccups in my only night of fun for the week. Thankfully Princess Boner Ghost had some flats that I swapped onto my steed and we were ready to slay some pave'.
The weather forecast was for thunderstorms and we were under a tornado warning until 10 p.m.. We could either ride bikes and risk getting wet and possibly ending our days in Oz, or sit around getting even fatter than we already are - swill booze and just fade away. We chose to roll the dice and ride. It's pretty much been raining here for the last 4 day straight. We needed the ride time. Blah Blah cry me a river.
After reaching our mid-ride point of 68* kilometers, we pit-stopped at the Bier Station for refreshments. It dumped rain while we drank fine ales and talked quantum mechanics. Suddenly, and with great enthusiasm WhiteMike popped out of his seat, headed for the door and said " there's my ride". WTF El Blanco Miguel! You're dissing the rest of our ultimate DK training ride for some fine looking blonde in short shorts? O.K., we get it. You had more fun than we did, but the final 89* mile push through the bowels of Scary Village was easily a close 2nd, or maybe 16th, or maybe just...not.