Saddle(d) up

After what seemed like a lot longer than the 16 days I actually was off the bike, I took advantage of my vacation day and the gorgeous, 70-degree weather to sneak out for a short ride around the neighborhood. Here's how I break it down:

Minus	Plus
My legs don't feel nearly as strong as they did earlier in the season.	I'd still rather ride than jog.
I had to come to a full stop twice for the same school bus (in accordance with my status as a vehicle), which had its flashers on and its stop sign out.	I grinned and rolled my eyes at the driver, and he cracked up. And the kids cheered me on as they disembarked.
Some of the cheering sounded like "Get a car, old man."	At least they weren't confused by my "mannaries" and got my gender right.
One woman pulling out of her driveway looked right at me and kept creeping forward, seemingly intent on making me stop for her.	Because she was looking right at me, I was able to convey, by adept employment of pantomime, that I was fit'n ta go all Texas Chainring Massacre on her driver-side door. She stopped.
The seam of the cheap-ass chamois in my new Bellwether shorts chafed the heck out of my right thigh.	Fortunately, it was worst when I was walking, and at least it wasn't The Boys that got rubbed the wrong way. And I now know what kind of shorts not to buy in the future.
At 17.9 miles and an average speed of 16.8 mph, it wasn't the memorable sort of ride to which I'd typically devote blog space.	This posting should reassure Slow Joe Recumbo, who was starting to wonder if I would ever post anything about cycling again.

Now playing: Rob Dickinson, Fresh Wine For The Horses