Two Wheel Blogs

Route: Marine Loop
Time: About 2 hours and 20 minutes
Miles: I don't know.
Pace: I don't care.

Riding Tunes: Yet another lap through the Afro-Celtic Sound System. I know, I know, this is like the fourth time in a row I've listened to the Afro-Celts. (Actually, I don't "listen" so much as I allow it "wash over" me: their groove is very deep.) I swear, I'm going to reload my iPod. Really.

I'm still sore after Friday's mishap on the Covered Bridge ride (7.03.09 In the Valley of the Shadow). The scrapes on my left shin are better, but the "strawberries" on my right forearm and my ... um, uh ... my "lower hip" are still very sensitive. Also, my joints are a bit achy, especially my knees. I'm going to do the St. Charles ride tomorrow night, so I wanted to get back on the bike today. Actually, I started to go for a ride yesterday, but then my iPod wouldn't work, and it started to rain. I took these two occurences as signs that I should not ride, so I went back home, resolving to try again today.

Tonight, I just wanted to get back on the bike and ride. I didn't care about time, distance, or pace. My only goal was to move the pedals and reacclimate my body to riding. I was not going to push myself. I was not going to stand up to climb. I was not going to do anything the required effort. I was just going to ride. That's all.

My destination was Bobby's Frozen Custard in Maryville, just south of where I live, where a great swing band, Swing Deville, was playing. I could have ridden there directly in about 30 minutes, but I was in no hurry. I wanted a long, slow ride. So I did a modified Marine Loop, taking Quercus Grove to Fruit, then Pochantas back to Marine Road, then Lower Marine the Schoolhouse trail, which delivered me to Bobby's in Maryville.

I don't have a single-speed bike, and the only fixed gear bike I've ever ridden was my first bike. "Keep a straight chain," Boz once told me, explaining it was better to avoid the extreme diagonal either from the big chain ring to the high gear or from the small chain ring to the low gear. Tonight, I resolved to keep a straight chain the whole ride. I put the chain in a middle gear and left it there. All I did was move between the three chain rings as necessary: the big ring for cruising, the middle for easy climbs, and the small ring for harder climbs. I was, essentially, riding a 3-speed.

And I was wholly unconcerned with time or pace. I didn't even look at my Cat Eye. I just rode. And I looked at the scenery -- the dark clouds that threatened rain but never delivered, the corn and soybean fields on either side of the rode, the farm houses and barns that dot the landscape, and the pockets of trees here and there. I've lived most of my life in the midwest -- first in Minnesota, now in Illinois -- and I enjoy its simple beauty. It's not the majestic beauty of the mountains, or the vast sweeping beauty of the desert or the coast. If I lived in Colorado or New Mexico or the Carolinas, then I would ride through their beauties. But I don't. I live in the midwest, so that's the beauty I know. And that's what I looked at as I rode, not the time or pace on my Cat Eye.

I would say it was a very succesful ride, except that I didn't really have a goal for the ride other than to ride. That's not entirely true. My goal was to get to Bobby's to enjoy a concrete while listening to the sweet, swingning sounds of Swing Deville. And in that respect, it was a total success. For the most part, my body felt okay. My knees were still a little shaky, but I think they'll feel better tomorrow night because I rode today. I hope so. I'll find out tomorrow on the flats of St. Charles.