Small achievement, but I bet 88% of all blogs don't make it to 100 posts, so I guess there should be some sense of accomplishment. I also hear that 86% of statistics are made up on the spot. Old joke, I know, yet pertinent.
I'm fighting an annoying head cold right now, it's hasn't exactly leveled me, but it's not much fun and my nose is getting raw from blowing it every two minutes. Boohoo, poor baby!
I had a great commute yesterday, as usual, and am ready to do it again. Rain, rain, go away! This is not good for hitting the trails over the weekend, and I'm stuck to road riding and dodging screws.
At least I'm on my bike. And I'd like to send out two little notes to the trail users of Indian Creek. First, goes to the middle aged women. I'm really happy for you that you can talk with your friends so much that you barely see me coming. Really, I am. I can only guess what worldly matters you might be discussing. Way over my head, I'm sure. What isn't over my head, unfortunately, is that 90-second aerosol blast of ungodly funky perfume that you thought you needed to go walk outdoors. It seriously takes 15-20 seconds of riding at 18+ mph before I can breathe again. That is 528 feet, or one tenth of a mile before I evade your funk. For chris' sake, stop it.
The second demographic involves people who think that the Indian Creek trail system is a dog park for their 80 pound Labs. I'm a dog guy, first and foremost. But Labs are retarded. And so is getting chased by a dog while you're on a bike. Keep your dog on a leash. If you leave a Pomerian off leash, I may just run it over and use it in my spokes to sound like a motorcycle. Those aren't dogs.