chasing clock

So this is the first time ever that I have my shit together and am ready to just jump on the bike in the morning. There is always something I need to pack. This time, everything except what I would be carrying on me personally was packed and fastened to the bike. Good to go!

One thing was troublesome though. I knew it was going to be tight when I had packed it. I mean we are talking a LOT of beer. Christopher and I figured three cases is about 70 lbs.or so.

There is nothing but beer in the green bag. There is also beer in the tank bag and the side bags. The blue tarp is wrapped around my tent, sleeping pad, and sleeping bag. the black plastic bag has clothes, towel, deodorant, etc. for the weekend.

Luckily, arrangements had been made to drop it off at Phil's (about 3 1/2 hours away) so I wouldn't have all that extra weight to haul all those extra miles -- and besides, with Phil delivering them they would be less likely to arrive late at night.   ; )  Thanks again, buddy, that was AWESOME!

But what I *hadn't* done yet is road test the bike with that weight and where it was placed. No matter what I could do, I could not figure out how to cinch that green bag back any further. As a result, my right nut was pretty well squished into the tank.

I needed to figure something out, or it will be a very long 3 1/2 hours. I get to the gas station and as I go to fuel up, I realize I don't have the directions I need ... and I need them!

GAH! I left the house on time because "everything" was packed on the bike. everything except .....

So now I'm a bit annoyed that I left on time and I am still not getting out of town on time. It's a little setback, but I wasn't happy. I rush back up the street to the house, back up the driveway, dart through the house, grab the directions off the dresser, and start to get back on the bike only to realize now ... I don't have my gloves.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! Argh!

I set them on the "beer" bag on the back of the bike while fueling. Luckily, I was already planning to retrace my steps but now at a much slower pace while I comb the side of the road for my gloves. I found one about 3/4 mile or so away from the gas station. Parked the bike, nodded to the little old woman on the porch, grabbed my glove from across the street, smiled at her and said "left the gas station in too much a hurry", mounted back up and found the other one closer to where I would have expected ... within a few hundred feet of the parking lot I left.

Cool! I got gloved back up -- if this is all I have to worry about today, I've got it made.

It took me nearly an hour, but I finally figured if I half hung my ass to one side of the seat it would provide some relief in the nether area. So that made the next couple hours a bit more tolerable.

I showed up at Phil's only 20 minutes later than I wanted (but still within the window). While unloading, he offered to not only carry the beer to the SME, but also would bring my camp gear too. Sweet! Thanks again, Phil.

He then took me to his beer store. Yeah! I could have made him really late to work so we stayed there briefly and then went back to his place.

He headed off to work, and I went back to the beer store to drool some and buy some beers. Well, this will now put me behind the clock. The directions and gloves issue didn't take too long, but that little visit to the beer store, yeah, I'm running late!

I manage to find GeoDad's place but am about an hour late by now I think. He and Rosie fed me some steamed broccoli and arroz con pollo. Who says you can't eat healthy on the road? It was very good as was the company. Thanks George!

Well the whole chasing clock thing just gets exponential. I called Skip to let him know that I am behind. Actually this worked out to his advantage as he had forgotten his daughter had a softball game and he had to be there. So I tell him I should probably arrive around 9 (that's two hours lost at this point)

By the time I get to his house it's 10 (3 hours -- how does it accumulate that fast?). Anyway, I no sooner get my helmet and gloves removed and he pulls in on his bike. Perfect!

I was so happy to remove the helmet. It had been slab, slab, slab all ... day .... long!

Not only that, but if all went according to plan (uh-oh), wouldn't be on slab anymore the rest of the weekend except for one short stretch.

Greetings were exchanged. Then instead of the nearly ubiquitous snapping of a beer, I asked him for some water. I had been making miles all day and hadn't really drank much. I never grabbed a water at the first stop (like I habitually do) because of the directions fiasco. Usually I take a few sips while I refuel. I never did get any.

Aside from a beer with dinner and a glass of water at George's, I hadn't anything since before I left the house at 9:30. Bad move, but my body knew -- my throat wanted water, not beer. After rehydrating, we went about the dehydration process by trying *many* great beers until the early morning hours.