Reynolds, Raystown & the Endo

Reynolds is badass. He's got big knobby tires and over-sized rims - kinda like big foot only pretty. really. Plus he's got mad style - he's gold and made o'f steel. He has a red biocentric bottom bracket which makes him hot - kinda like a fire truck only he doesn't come with a ladder - only a Reba 80mm Fork.

The top tube of Reynolds says "Pedal Dammit" - a constant reminder of what to do just in case I forget after 10 and then more hours in the saddle (AUGUST!!). It happens i guess to the best of us. then we fall over and take a nap at the top of the last climb. sweet.

Yesterday, Reynolds and I took our first trip (in a car) out of Centre County together. The ride - a celebration of sorts for our friend Mr Roth who is leaving town for the Left Coast this weekend (have a safe trip!!!). Richie was kind enough to load up his truck with bikes and drive us down (THANK YOU!). Peter sang some songs along the way (and now I have Blackened by Metallica in my head which is so NOT UK Hip Hop).

On the ride, Reynolds and I had a good time together except for that brief moment when an oddly shaped rock in the midst of a small rock garden caught Reynolds gnarly tires in conjunction with my "testing" out the response time of disc brakes around said rock (this is a test!)... seriously, a test. And guess what? They work.

Reynolds bucked me over top of the bars and into a bed of rocks and came crashing down beside me (he didn't want to stray too far i guess). Dang! Somehow I managed to gracefully land face down with both knees planted in rocks. My left shoulder tells me it did some damage control too along the way as do the scrapes on that arm. Only a tiny chunk was taken from my face. Bruises are progressing nicely today turning deep shades of purple.

Awesome!

First came shock, then came the onset of pain. And then, the frustration associated with my lack of handling skills and recognition that people would be waiting for me wondering if I was alas kidnapped by A.L.F. (he exists!) in his mothership. I got a few tears out of the way, sat in the middle of the trail staring blankly at the silly rocks. It was time to get back in the saddle and go. I walked a ways and met up with Ken who had come back to see where i was (well obviously I was keeping the rock garden warm being the thoughtful individual that I am!).

A few more tears flew - this was my first endo and admittedly it knocked the wind outta my sails. Really it wasn't that bad and the bruises and scrapes, totally minimal. I got back on the bike for the ride back to the lot. Grumpy slow. Ever so slow. And grumpy.

Did I mention the grumpy part?

A few margaritas and beers had in the lot... we then rocked the rest of the send off celebration at Boxers. Good times, good peoples. Real good peoples. GOOD LUCK KEN!!!

It took me all day but I'm finally over it realizing the only way I'll learn, and get better, is to try things, bite it, get back in the saddle and try again. And probably the worst reaction was the one I had - to get upset at myself for being so clumsy, and to think about being sore and uncomfortable, not staying positive on a group ride.

That's alright though, lesson learned. It was overall a good time.
Saturday marks the start of my first double century. 200 miles, one day. dang that even sounds silly. More good times. Double Sweet!!