March 2 now. Sunny, weather changing clouds above, 69 degrees at 3 PM and no white stuff around or failed public utilities. Desert is dry allowing access to preferred sleep spots. However, temps fluctuate between shorts and knickers and respective weight of tops as visible hanging from hang up spots inside my van. Wool is great among other benefits it does not stink, I hang up a ride sweated jersey to dry out without eau of pue. The temp of the next ride determines which top. Of course alls washed clean every Thurs. Still temp is chilly at 11 AM ride start for a heavier top but as ride progresses so does the mercury meaning I am over dressed. You remember mercury filled thermometers?
Yesterday was just gorgeous for being outside. I drove up to Cultural park for a ramble. I gps every trail I ride on and I observed I had several unrecorded trails that I picked up on today’s ride. Girdner in its entirety. I climbed Anaconda nonstop which is big for my age affected body. My cardio system does not keep up with my muscular system or commands from the brain, I become short of breath quickly but as uninterrupted pedaling goes on the systems sort of balance out. Riding with the lower saddle changes the muscle effort such that as the ride yesterday neared its end my legs were worked and I was looking forward to completing my ride. I do ride much better is a trade off. Those several high bpm events seemed to have worked whatever the cause was as HR data was in line. I still push myself.
Social trails exist that are ridden at best and at best maybe a plant was removed. You have to know where to look and how to follow them. Yesterday was a paying attention to choices. The trail alignment is sustainable and climbing sustainable. Nice stuff.
Sunday’s forecast called for 30+ mph gusts that I had no desire to be exposed to. I spent the day parked at the outlet mall being rocked by gusts.
The guy who parked his trailer at my preferred spot off Beaverhead was sited by the FS finally after 3 weeks there. I drove in as he was attempting to retract his stuck slider and saw the orange tag stuck to a door. I did not see a fine notice, perhaps he had it. I noticed that he had no license plate on the trailer which denies traceability. He was playing living on the forest. Trump sticker on his truck. I am back to sleeping at that spot. So far cows have not been moved onto the land. No precip since the snow event in Feb.
My interaction with ebikes on closed trails is now just making a comment that they are illegal on these trails and continue on.
Tomorrow’s forecast is for another high wind event in the afternoon. need to ride in the chill morning.
March 19 is the Turner RFX’s 5th year ride day, 15,xxx miles, 2,0xx rides.
Finished Maltese Falcon, published in 1929. Sam rolled his own cigarettes. I googled telephones of the time period. Cars were just changing window glass from laminated to tempered. We are where we are today because of where we came from. That’s a thing about growing older is having experienced that past. Back when flying was a big deal and you dressed up to be a passenger. You could smoke on the plane. Bikes were rigid and non indexed shifting. My bike is 5 years old and my van is almost 15 years old. I’m working on 72 years of age, I still have my selective service card. gas was 29 cents a gallon. Bread was sliced however.
The Mighty vaporizer has a larger pot appetite than previous manufactures, the resulting buzz is comfortable. However, the concentrate has a much higher THC content and 1 hit puts me on my heels, it is stronger than I want to be.
On March 1 I intended to switch to warm weather apparel, just sandals at first. However, temp in upper 20s at wake up is below comfort range. Still leather shoes with no socks. And long pants and sleeves and heavy wool sweater.
Off to grocery shop for another chicken dinner then peace in the desert.
So, out here in dry dry desert fruit flies appear around my glass of wine. Huh? Adults not secreted in the paper bottles of wine? I checked the spider’s web for eaten fruit flies, so far fruit flies are flying free.
I have read every fiction work by Grisham. The last was a reread of Sycamore Row, set in Mississippi. I looked at a road atlas of the state. I rode within its borders 2 times, 3 different trails. Reflecting on the atlas my travels take to mountain bike locations, never really a slow cruise down blue highways. I interact with riders and bike shops . My choice. But what struck me was not immersing myself in a local culture. (burnt my 1 skillet dinner, 1st ever). Like hanging around the local coffee shop or the feed store. Being a tourist is being a voyeur. Today I choose blue states, dunno about a Yankee progressive in Jim Crow south.