We have been suffering terribly from lack of riding, both VeloJunkie and I. Today was supposed to be another day sacrificed to working on the old house. We waited and waited but the delivery truck was a no-show. Finally, at about 3:00 p.m. we decided to take advantage of Home Depot’s mishap, the beautiful weather, and the duration of sunlight we still had in October, and go for a ride.
We hadn’t eaten lunch yet so we determined our destination by our cravings. Eli’s barbecue it was. We resolved we would pick up Eli’s on the way to Bad Tom’s Taproom and have a couple of choice brews with our smoked meat.
We should have recognized the inklings of disorder all along our route and throughout the day. First, of course, was the miscommunication about the delivery. Then there was a strong wind out of the south and temperatures were higher than normal for an autumn day in the middle of October. Drivers were impatient, even other cyclists didn’t return a friendly wave or nod in passing. Soon I realized I had left my phone at the old house so I was travelling completely disconnected.
Eli’s, usually the busiest place in town, had only a handful of patrons under the big outdoor tent and no one dining inside. We ordered our food and waited outside. It was presented to us in two large, carry-out trays instead of the individual containers they used to put orders in. Baked beans and cole slaw travel much better in sealed bowls than separated trays. We finally figured out how to secure the food on Velo’s bike and pedaled very slowly to Bad Tom’s, me trailing Velo to make sure the food didn’t slip or spill.
We ordered our beer, a Bad Tom Brown Ale for me and an American Outlaw Pale Ale for Velo, and took a seat at the table nearest the turntable. A woman comparable in age to us was spinning vinyl on the old RCA and singing along with the 70’s music. Three Dog Night, then CSN, a little bit of Led Zeppelin, then some Eagles. We talked to her a little about star signs, zodiacs, and album covers, lamenting the fact that nobody cared about the art on the cover anymore. Remember the cover of “Desperado” or “Black Sabbath”?
We opened the containers that we so precariously transported only to find them void of utensils. The sandwiches were easy but we had to reach back deep into our medieval ancestry to figure out how to eat the beans and slaw.
After two beers each we decided it was time to go. Daylight doesn’t last very long this time of year and our route home passes through some less desirable parts of the city.
Velo just couldn’t leave the area without stopping at his favorite taproom, Blank Slate, for just one more. By the time we left for home the sun was low in the west and we had about 13 miles to put behind us. I was pedaling pretty hard when we came to a stoplight. I looked at Velo and warned him that something had to give…I was going to either burp or vomit if I had to climb one more hill with a belly full of beer and barbecue.
We made it to Riverside drive free and clear, still moving fast but no elevation for a while. Much to our surprise we were soon facing an onslaught of costumed motorcyclists. There must have been 200 or more roaring down the street in their Halloween best. It was a sight to behold and I so wished I would have brought my camera. Chances are their images would not have shown up in pictures anyway.
All the time the sun was waning faster than we were riding.
We got into the industrial part of the ride just as dusk was bearing down. This part of town is pretty desolate on a Saturday, and by the time evening rolls around there is not a living soul around. I was stopped at an intersection, underneath the flickering of a streetlight, when Velo rolled up next to me. Looking over at him in the strobe of the lamp I couldn’t help but think that we must be in some sort of underworld. I laughed and said “Hello Vampire Bait”. Velo didn’t laugh. "Vampire Bait?" He looked at me quizzically. I said "Well yeah. Your heart rate is up, your blood is pumping, what more could a vampire want?"
We made it home just before nightfall, exhausted from riding full throttle for the last two to three miles.
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