Bik'd

scrottie and I biked a lot this weekend. The chickens were to blame for a good bit of it; knowing that they would require some attention, we aborted plans to ride up to the top of South Mountain and instead rode over to the Fruit Barn, which is on the way there on Baseline Road. After the Fruit Barn, we pointed our front wheels down Baseline towards the downtown Phoenix Farmer's Market, except we sort of overshot one of our destination roads (Central Ave) and ended up on 7th Ave instead. Just as we rounded the corner on 7th Ave, S spotted a feed store, so we stopped in and I picked up some chick food. We also noted that they were selling straw and lamented the fact that we did not have a trailer with us with which to haul it. Shortly thereafter, as we resumed the ride towards the farmer's market, we resolved to return to the feed store to get some straw. Only trouble was, it was getting a bit late in the morning and the feed store closed at 1 pm.

So we hustled a little at the farmer's market, and kept a quick pace on the ride back to my house to pick up the trailer. We hurriedly shoved a few pumpkin oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies in our mouths, unloaded our goods (10 pounds of extremely ripe - but cheap - tomatoes, some potatoes, and two strawberry seedlings; wishful thinking, those), hitched up the trailer to S's bike, and set out again.

We took the most direct route possible, flying along Roeser Road at our respective top speeds, which turned out to be around 20 mph for me, unladen, and S, with trailer. Riding, riding, riding, riding, breathing hard, feeling our legs burn, gulping water, then riding, riding, riding some more, and finally, turning down 7th Ave and seeing Baseline loom in the distance. The minutes left on the clock ticked away and dwindled down almost to nothing, and it was probably 12:58 when we pulled into the parking lot again, panting. The owners of the feed store had already closed shop and locked up the gate to the storeyard, but they had not yet left the premises. I explained our situation, breathlessly, and they kindly reopened enough to sell us a bale of straw.

It was a 75-pound bale of straw. I'll post a photo maybe tomorrow, if I have a few minutes to spare. It dwarfed my modest trailer, and sat almost upright in it, creating an extremely top-heavy load that was precarious on flat, straight roads, and doubly precarious going around corners. So we rode back to Tempe, gingerly, at about 12 mph. As we rode past a couple of guys walking down the sidewalk, one of them said, "Hey!" and then chuckled a little to himself. I would have, too.

After dropping off the straw bale, we walked/caught an Orbit (free shuttle bus) over to the hardware store and bought some 4x8-foot sheets of coroplast to serve as roofing for the coop, and walked it home. I got that nailed on and spread out some straw while S turned the tomatoes into tomato sauce and then lasagne, and we headed over to a neighborhood block party that turned out to be nice and entertaining (live music and beer certainly helped).

This morning, we got up early and went over to the bike co-op to meet up with R and company. The company rode 3 tall bikes, R hauled a trailer, I rode the retro-direct bicycle, and S rode his bike over to Kiwanis Park for the Tour de Tempe, a bike ride and event put on by Tempe. I served as a ride marshal, riding the retro-direct towards the front of the group that went on the 12-mile ride, accompanied by one of the tall-bike pilots. The retro-direct is fun to ride, but it takes energy to go fast and my legs got kind of tired.

Afterwards, I rode the retro-direct back over to the co-op and picked up the Jolly Roger again. Then S and I ate lunch, gathered up a few things, rode up to his house, gathered up a few more things, and rode over to Copper Star Coffee to get some work done. Once I finished grading papers, I rode back over to Central Ave, intending to catch the light rail home. But when I looked at the people waiting at the light rail stop, I didn't feel like stopping (not because of the people in particular, but because of the idea of waiting). I just kept riding, and rode and rode and rode and rode on the straight, flat, dark roads of Phoenix, and the train only caught up with me about 1/2-mile from where I would have gotten off to ride the rest of the way home.

I don't know how many miles all of that equates to. I do know that I have 1,213 miles to go before I reach 6000 miles for the year. I might just make it.