After a month off the bike from a painful injury, it felt great to be back in action. Today was a solo ride and I felt good from the start. As I pulled from the lot, the bike was smooth as butter, the weather ridiculously gorgeous, my legs were stretching in and feeling stronger than I had expected considering the lack of activity over the last month and the limited saddle time since Thanksgiving. My shoulder even felt pretty good.
I settled in and pushed up the speed. 23, 24, 25 mph at mile 1, this is going to be a kick @** day. My mind on the machine, focus forward and happy, happy to be here. Cars pass slowly. A black van passes and just as I'm at the rear quarter panel, suddenly turns right. In front of me. (!!!NO F*in WAY!!!) I scream nonsense sylables like a freaking banshee, LOUD. (Hear me you M#$$$%%E%!!!!) Slamming on the brakes isn't enough, Nowhere to go. (God, don't let me die here.) Inches away from the van. Then F'in millimeters away from the side door as I bank and turn with the van at 20-some mph, over a sewer grate and close enough to see the tiny metallic sparkles in the paint.
Then... no collision. What??!! Either MTBing has taught me amazing handling skills or the hand of God appeared.
The van rolls down the street as I continue to slow.
Adrenaline surge, I chase the van. Dead end street, they're lost and turn in a lot. I catch them there.
Eastern European woman in her 50's. Basically, I told her she nearly killed me, that she needed to be aware, that bikes can be really fast and do have the right of way. I was loud, I was shaking, I probably could have ripped the doors of the damned car if I tried, but after some guy came out of the building to ask us to leave(I was too loud about not wanting to be killed, I guess)I went my way, she apologetically,("Baby, I so sorry... how this happen?" "You're not aware of what's around you!" "Can you tell me how to get to..." "Are you F*n nuts?") went hers.
Hell of a way to start the day. So, I head back out and find my ride filled with flashes of adrenaline fueled sprints then spans of reduced speed that intersperse themselves with bursts of rehashing and cursing(it's that damned turrette's again) over the near death experience.
Idiots far behind, back in with my usually friendly, courteous drivers, I hammer along hearing the munchkins sing "She's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead!". A good tempo, I hang onto the song for a while and enjoy the ride. Good thing the sense of humor kicks in fast.
The climbs were not as bad as Saturday, the downhill was restorative to my soul. As I finished the hill, an airplane was coming in to land. We crossed each other. Stupendous. It's not very often a small plane passes so close over your head you can see what the pilot is wearing.
On the way back, two of my shop ride guys are heading in the opposite direction, in the final stretch I see ptgirl heading out for her ride. Cool, I didn't know she was so close, we'll have to ride together.
Unfortunately my chest strap wasn't picking up when the near crash happened, 'cause I was looking forward to seeing the huge spike in heart rate at the same moment as the huge drop in speed. Regardless, I pushed my max heart rate up 3 points today to 183. The highest I've ever seen. So I guess that nearly getting killed is a good test of cardiac conditioning. No?:hmmm:
I settled in and pushed up the speed. 23, 24, 25 mph at mile 1, this is going to be a kick @** day. My mind on the machine, focus forward and happy, happy to be here. Cars pass slowly. A black van passes and just as I'm at the rear quarter panel, suddenly turns right. In front of me. (!!!NO F*in WAY!!!) I scream nonsense sylables like a freaking banshee, LOUD. (Hear me you M#$$$%%E%!!!!) Slamming on the brakes isn't enough, Nowhere to go. (God, don't let me die here.) Inches away from the van. Then F'in millimeters away from the side door as I bank and turn with the van at 20-some mph, over a sewer grate and close enough to see the tiny metallic sparkles in the paint.
Then... no collision. What??!! Either MTBing has taught me amazing handling skills or the hand of God appeared.
The van rolls down the street as I continue to slow.
Adrenaline surge, I chase the van. Dead end street, they're lost and turn in a lot. I catch them there.
Eastern European woman in her 50's. Basically, I told her she nearly killed me, that she needed to be aware, that bikes can be really fast and do have the right of way. I was loud, I was shaking, I probably could have ripped the doors of the damned car if I tried, but after some guy came out of the building to ask us to leave(I was too loud about not wanting to be killed, I guess)I went my way, she apologetically,("Baby, I so sorry... how this happen?" "You're not aware of what's around you!" "Can you tell me how to get to..." "Are you F*n nuts?") went hers.
Hell of a way to start the day. So, I head back out and find my ride filled with flashes of adrenaline fueled sprints then spans of reduced speed that intersperse themselves with bursts of rehashing and cursing(it's that damned turrette's again) over the near death experience.
Idiots far behind, back in with my usually friendly, courteous drivers, I hammer along hearing the munchkins sing "She's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead!". A good tempo, I hang onto the song for a while and enjoy the ride. Good thing the sense of humor kicks in fast.
The climbs were not as bad as Saturday, the downhill was restorative to my soul. As I finished the hill, an airplane was coming in to land. We crossed each other. Stupendous. It's not very often a small plane passes so close over your head you can see what the pilot is wearing.
On the way back, two of my shop ride guys are heading in the opposite direction, in the final stretch I see ptgirl heading out for her ride. Cool, I didn't know she was so close, we'll have to ride together.
Unfortunately my chest strap wasn't picking up when the near crash happened, 'cause I was looking forward to seeing the huge spike in heart rate at the same moment as the huge drop in speed. Regardless, I pushed my max heart rate up 3 points today to 183. The highest I've ever seen. So I guess that nearly getting killed is a good test of cardiac conditioning. No?:hmmm: