Ahhh...much better
Well the bike sorta worked. Chain only fell off thrice and only jammed between the gear and the wheel once.
37.7 miles.
3:48:30 hours.
9.8 mph average.
34.4 max speed.
1056 odometer.
Ambient temp 57 - 68 degs
Not a very fast ride but I did some lollygagging.
Those lollies are just a bit too noisy, really annoys the hell out of me.
Naw, I was just enjoying the bright, cool day.
Once I got up 3rd north hill to the Q.A. Starbucks, I did a little recce of my old neighborhood.
Then sat out side enjoying my tall drip and a cherry danish.
Watching the nice people of Queen Anne go by.
Q.A. Is a nice place. The people are nice, the architecture is nice, the baristas are nice.
And when they try to run over you in a Seattle Symphony related incident, the smile whilst doing it.
Which is nice.
After that I zoomed down 3rd north and explored the south side canal bike trail.
It ends at Foss tug, so it was dangerous streets teeming with snarling traffic all the way to the Ballard bridge.
But, after that, it was well trodden trail all the way home.
Stopped once at Leschi for a breather.
Looked at the lake.
Nice lookin' lake.
When I got to Seward park I didn't just ride up the long hill out of there, I attacked it used biceps, triceps, quadriceps, and quinticeps (are there such muscles?) (and what about UNIceps, or does the United Nations have a copyright)
(maybe those are the animals that didn't make it on the Ark?).
Anyway I also nailed the worse (steeper anyway) hill up Waters for a new world record.
New record; once.
Old record; none.
All this riding my archaic '65 Peugeot.
Peugeot, by the way, is one of the oldest non brewing companies in the world.
Peugeot made stuff for Napoleon.
Wire, actually which ladies of the time used to pouff out their hoop skirts in order to, get this, MAKE THEIR BUTTS LOOK BIG!
Go figure, eh?
Mutatus Mutandus (that's such a cool phrase. I'll have to look up what it means some day).
Anyway wire led to wire wheels which led to bicycles which led to cars.
Including a petite little bugger that Ettore Bugatti designed.
My experience with them leads me to wonder if the world might not have been better off if they had stopped at bikes.
Things seem to be clogging up on this archaic computer so I can't seem to loat a picture on the nice lake.
Maybe later.
37.7 miles.
3:48:30 hours.
9.8 mph average.
34.4 max speed.
1056 odometer.
Ambient temp 57 - 68 degs
Not a very fast ride but I did some lollygagging.
Those lollies are just a bit too noisy, really annoys the hell out of me.
Naw, I was just enjoying the bright, cool day.
Once I got up 3rd north hill to the Q.A. Starbucks, I did a little recce of my old neighborhood.
Then sat out side enjoying my tall drip and a cherry danish.
Watching the nice people of Queen Anne go by.
Q.A. Is a nice place. The people are nice, the architecture is nice, the baristas are nice.
And when they try to run over you in a Seattle Symphony related incident, the smile whilst doing it.
Which is nice.
After that I zoomed down 3rd north and explored the south side canal bike trail.
It ends at Foss tug, so it was dangerous streets teeming with snarling traffic all the way to the Ballard bridge.
But, after that, it was well trodden trail all the way home.
Stopped once at Leschi for a breather.
Looked at the lake.
Nice lookin' lake.
When I got to Seward park I didn't just ride up the long hill out of there, I attacked it used biceps, triceps, quadriceps, and quinticeps (are there such muscles?) (and what about UNIceps, or does the United Nations have a copyright)
(maybe those are the animals that didn't make it on the Ark?).
Anyway I also nailed the worse (steeper anyway) hill up Waters for a new world record.
New record; once.
Old record; none.
All this riding my archaic '65 Peugeot.
Peugeot, by the way, is one of the oldest non brewing companies in the world.
Peugeot made stuff for Napoleon.
Wire, actually which ladies of the time used to pouff out their hoop skirts in order to, get this, MAKE THEIR BUTTS LOOK BIG!
Go figure, eh?
Mutatus Mutandus (that's such a cool phrase. I'll have to look up what it means some day).
Anyway wire led to wire wheels which led to bicycles which led to cars.
Including a petite little bugger that Ettore Bugatti designed.
My experience with them leads me to wonder if the world might not have been better off if they had stopped at bikes.
Things seem to be clogging up on this archaic computer so I can't seem to loat a picture on the nice lake.
Maybe later.
Labels: splog
posted by Lane Savant at 3:51 PM
4 Comments:
I think the bustle was for the butt and the hoop style dresses to accent the dresses that went in at dramatically at the waist.
But what the heck do I know about ancient attire?
Where's your nearest Whole Foods? Their danishes are freaking to DIE for. OMG.
I wasted 20 minutes on a fine comment and then wrestled with this new posting format. Perhaps this time it will go on. I tested it on FFTR and it posts as Butch (Google). Crazy cyber shit. Who can keep up.
Jannie, I had hoped that you would have commented on two postings ago when 44 comments showed up rife with anonymous humor. Some good stuff; even got Lane Savant riled up.
Glenn
I can barely deal with the devasting news that Fidelio is a feminine name. Christ, I figured it was an Italian or Spanish male name. It changes our responses to your bike trips now, realizing that you are pumping your gluts out on top of a lady.
Glenn
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