In Which Our Heroine Returns From The Dead

OK, maybe not quite dead, but it's been ridiculous Chez Fat Bottom of late. Anyway, I owe you all an update!

FIRST: A gigantic THANK YOU and I LOVE YOU to everyone who donated! We raised $450 for the National MS Society! You are all made of Win and Awesomsauce, and you have helped make things just a bit brighter for people living with MS. Every penny raised goes to help fund research to fight this awful disease, and help MS patients in need get medical care and equipment. I met some folks on the Ride who are just so grateful and excited that people are interested in helping in whatever way they can. Meeting them and knowing the good the MS Society does for them made all the training pain worth it.

If you wanted to donate prior to the Ride, but couldn't, you still can until August 31st.

So, about the Ride...

If you know me IRL, you know that I did not succeed in the planned 100 miles. I did, however, make the full 50 on the first day, and I think for my first distance event, that's pretty damned good!

(That's me on one cup of coffee.)

We got to the Lucas County Fairgrounds bright and early to check in, have a little breakfast, and get started. The place was jammed with veteran riders and n00bs alike, and the atmosphere was one of party and fun. Everyone was so excited and ready to roll, and when our group was ready, we took off like shots!

A few miles in, VG blew a flat, so we had to SAG it over to a bike mechanic to get him sorted. To our delight, the mechanic at that station was VG's regular dude from The Bike Route here in Toledo. He had VG re-tubed and re-tired in no time flat, and we were off again.

Right into a hill. OMG. Now, if I had still be riding Red, it would have been all over for me right there, since Red's gears didn't shift any more. But I had my shiny new bike, so all I had to do was downshift, right? Well, in theory, that's how it works. But my bike decided not to get into gear, so I really struggled in third until everything finally clicked over. If you ever want to feel like you're getting nowhere fast, try pedaling uphill in third gear. OW!

From there, though, it was smooth sailing, and we had fun at the rest stops!

(There was a group of women with these T-shirts. Each had a word on the front that, when they lined up, spelled out "We are on our cycles", and one had a giant period on her shirt. Because they were. On their periods, I mean. I was vastly amused by this novel way to build a cycling team.)

I can't decide if my favorite stop was Tontogany, where we got to go into the Firehouse and have HOMEMADE BROWNIES OMGSOGOOD!, or the final stop in Gibsonburg, where I swear it was an Angel handing out Dreamsicles as we rolled in on an 85 degree day.

There's something delightful about somebody's Grampy handing you a pair of Dreamsicles after 50 miles of riding, really. I hopped off my bike and gave him a hug and a kiss and told him he was an Angel, and he just BEAMED! But he really was an Angel! What else do you call the guy waiting for you with something cold and sweet?

With the appearance of the Dreamsicles, we were done for the day, and we were loaded up and taken to Port Clinton High School to store our bikes for the night, pick up our Jet Express passes, and get our transportation into town. We had the option to camp at the high school, but the fact is, I don't camp. Ever. For any one or any reason. It's never been fun for me, and it's just too hard on my joints besides. So, VG and I booked a room in town at the Super 8, which is just across the street from the Frisch's Big Boy my Opa and I used to spend a lot of time in every summer. I hadn't realized that's where it was - the Super 8 wasn't there when I was a teenager spending summers in Port Clinton - but I was tickled when I spotted it.

We got checked in, and trundled upstairs for a shower and a nap. I howled when I spotted this:

You know you're in a Summer Town when... Hee!

After I had an hour to recover, we hopped on the Jet Express to South Bass Island and Put-in-Bay. Now, Put-in-Bay was rather important venue during the War of 1812, and if you get me started about War of 1812 history here in my area, I won't shut up, so just go read about The Battle of Lake Erie.

We wandered around the Island and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, had some dinner, and headed back to the hotel to crash.

When I awoke on Sunday, my legs looked like this:

When getting ready for the Ride, we had put zip ties on my water bottle holder to stabilize it and make sure I didn't lose my nice Camelbak bottle. By the time I noticed that I was getting scratched up, the damage was done. I did fix the issue, but by then, I had mangled myself pretty good. It didn't really hurt until Sunday, though.

We packed up to head out and get the day going. The first transport shuttle skipped us. The second one picked us up, but we got there mere minutes from being able to get on the first bus over to the start point. We were put on the bus for the second wave...and waited for 45 minutes to get on the road. While on the road, the bike truck kept getting lost. A 20 minute ride took more than an hour, so we spent 2 hours crammed into a bus. Ugh.

At the Gibsonburg start point, I realized I could not get on my bike. Try as I might to stretch, I couldn't. I was a Walking Cramp, and was in a lot of pain. I tried a double dose of ibuprofen and a lot of walking and attempting to stretch, but my calves and thighs were having none of it, and after about 45 minutes of trying to work it all out, I called it off. I had to decide whether I wanted to try and end up injuring myself badly, or be happy with what I had already accomplished. I chose the latter, and I don't regret it!

I will probably do this again next year!

In the in-between, I've decided to do a 62 mile road rally in Perrysburg next month. It's not a fundraiser ride, it's just a bunch of people riding for the fun of it, in honor of General Mad Anthony Wayne and the Battle of Fallen Timbers.

(Yes, I know a lot about the Battle of Fallen Timbers, too. I'LL SHUT UP NOW!)

Stay tuned for more cycling adventures! And, you guys? For all of your support, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

--Missy, the Fat Bottomed Girl

Someone Stole Thor's Pants

I stole the title from my friend Amy, proprietor and Chief Saponifier at Foam on the Range. It's an apt description of a thunderstorm, which is what part of today's ride ended up being in.

So, 35.75 miles today. Our goal was 50 miles, but Thor realized his britches were missing at around mile 22-ish, and it all went to Hell from there! And, in spite of the Vita Guru's intermittent fussing that I was going too slow, I'm quite pleased with my 9.5mph pace.

We got a later start than VG had planned, which didn't bother me in the slightest, since I haven't any care for some training "schedule" to adhere to. I'm supposed to plop my fat can in the saddle and go, not worry about what time it is! We parked at the Lakeside development and started on the South Fork of the Wabash Cannonball Trail. The weather was cool and delightful, and except for the cloud of tiny little bugs that endeavored to fly up my nose ALL AT ONCE, it was a great start to the ride. The South Fork is kind of "middle of nowhere" territory, so any bit of wind whistling across the fields reaches you unbroken. I had to pop an earbud out so I could hear VG, elsewise all I heard with my tunes was "WHOOOOOOOOOOSH".

You see some neat things on the South Fork:





Wildlife what I saw on the South Fork:

Wabbits: I lost count after 20. My darlings, it was well and truly wabbit o'clock!
Chipmunks: 2
Cardinals: Flocks and herds! They were really cheerful this morning.
Horsies: 6
Field mice: 3
Butterflies: 16, no Karner Blues, though. They aren't morning people.
Chefs: 1

Wait...

Well, I dunno, Chef Michael DuShane could probably be considered wildlife! He not only does triathalons and marathons, he's also just out of his mind enough to teach the Culinary Arts to high school students, and somehow manages not to kill them. Chef is, as far as I'm concerned, a Rock Star - he's the ONLY instructor Alexander has ever taken seriously, the only instructor whose opinion Alex has ever really valued. That's...pretty damned special, if you ask me, which you didn't, but it's my blog and I can opine if I want to.

It was a delightful surprise to find Chef and his adorable family out near the trail on the first ride back to the car. He, his gorgeous wife Jodi, and their two ANGELIC little Monsters, Raleigh and Zeke, were playing in the sprinklers. Turns out, they're just a few houses off the trail. Chef had already been out running, and had been thinking about a ride as well, but it seemed his Monsters had other plans for him. It was nice to stop and chat with him for a bit, and I got my Mike Hug(TM), which I've been sorely deprived of for months! I tried to convince Zeke to come over for a snuggle, but he was too busy pretending to be shy. Oh well. Eventually he'll be my friend, this I foretell!

We continued on to the car to grab bananas, a bit more Amino Vital, and a stretch/rest break. While there, we met a cute-as-hell Boykin Spaniel named Rudy. His person apologized for Rudy's lack of manners about 4 seconds before Rudy leapt up to lick my face off. PUPPY KISSES, YAY! He was very sweet, and I always appreciate a Puppy Break!

After about 10 minutes, we hit the North Fork. While there, we met Bruce Kulik, and his daughter, Katherine. Seventeen days ago, they lit out from Boston on a cross-country trip to San Francisco! How cool is that?? Their gear setup was pretty impressive, and so was their pace, and they were super sweet. Of course, now I'll be watching their blog obsessively to make sure that they make it to the City OK. I'm sure they will be fine, they seem to be old pros at this sort of thing. Also, it's really adorable that Katherine and her Dad are so tight that they'll spend 70 days cycling together.

I noted that it looked like we had a little weather moving in, and tried to keep a decent pace. The new seat is incredibly helpful, but I still had some residual pain from the other day's injuries, so I wasn't pushing too hard. It started to sprinkle, VG asked how I was doing, and I grumbled that my ass hurt. He suggested turning around, but by then, we were further from the car than we were from the restrooms, and I had to PEE. I said as much, noted that we were only about 3.5 miles from a real toilet, and kept going.

Then Thor noticed that he was wandering about with no pants on, and with an impressive crack of thunder, set about summoning a torrential downpour. We were drenched in mere seconds, and eventually, I had to take my sunglasses off so I could see through all the water dumping down. We made it to the restrooms safely and took shelter in the alcove of the building. I was grateful for the chance to pee, wring out my gloves, and make an effort to dry off a little. For a while, it looked like this:




...so we waited until the rain died down enough that we could at least see decently, and headed back to the car. All told, we ended up riding a bit over 11 miles in the rain, and 3.5 of those were in rain so heavy, visibility could be measured in inches. VG says this officially makes me hardcore.

I'm pretty sure all it made me was cold, wet, and surly.

Wildlife what I saw on the way back:

Deer: 1
Chipmunks: about a dozen
Wabbits: It was STILL wabbit o'clock!
OWL!!!: 1 Pretty sure it was a Barn Owl. It was way too huge to be a Screech.

We briefly considered waiting to see if the sun would show up, and decided that even if it did, it wouldn't be a good idea to continue. The pavement was wet, our handlebar wraps were soaked, and our brakes were pretty well useless, what with everything being wet. And we were cold, which is a BAD idea for me, cold being the major trigger for my RA. So we took stock of our energy levels, determined that if it were still dry, the final 15-ish miles would be no issue, and called it done. We loaded Shuri up, and cranked the heat.

I have never been so grateful for a hot shower, I'll tell ya. Hot hot hot, just to get the chill out of my bones, then just a smidge cooler than boiling so I could enjoy Amy's lovely soap. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but it bears repeating - I am grateful for Foam on the Range soaps, because they soothe the chafed bits instead of stinging and making me cry from the pain. Sweet relief!

VG promptly scarfed down a cheeseburger after we got warmed up and got our disgusting and soggy gear tended to. Me, I crawled into bed and died for a couple hours with Bailey-cat, who was a perfectly serviceable ass-warmer.

Since it's Father's Day, Alex and I cooked VG a nice steak dinner, complete with wine, grilled zucchini, twice baked potatoes, and a salate caprese. And we've been making cocktails with rum, lavender soda, and rose essence, which cure all manner of ills:

*2 shots rum
*1/4 teaspoon rose essence
*1/3 bottle lavender soda

Pour over ice, stir.

This will probably be delicious with vodka, too.

I am now on the verge of drifting off to sleep the sleep of the just. Or perhaps of the dead. Or the drunk. Or the just dead drunk. Whichever, all I know is I pedaled my ass off today, deserved my rum, and now I want to sleep!

Tell me about your favorite booze!


--Missy, the Fat Bottomed Girl