Silk Sheets

The details are way to complex to relate, but my brother and I were going to go hiking, then riding, then hiking, then riding... We ultimately ended up riding, on the road, on the Silk Sheets.

On the drive over, I saw this sweet lowrider.



A benefit of diversity. No way I'd spend time or money putting together a truck like that, it's too non-functional for anything I do. But fortunately for me, there are people in the ATL who are all about it, so every now and then I see some cool car or truck with no personal investment. Ahh, diversity.

We started at the church, next to the Charley's, off of Fulton Industrial. When I got there, there were like 20 other riders milling around, getting ready for a group ride. I saw several old-school BOR jerseys, but I didn't recognize any of the folks wearing them.

They all rolled out. I fixed a flat rear tire and got dressed. My bro showed up. He got dressed. About halfway through that, a guy came rolling up in an Aaron's kit. His name was Tony. He was from Rhode Island by way of Spain, and he's currently working as a Spanish teacher somewhere near or in Vinings. He'd missed the roll-out and wanted to sit in with us. He looked fast. We all hit the road a few minutes later.



It was killing me. I could hang in there, but that's all I was doing. My bro was talking about how fat and out of shape he was. Great. I can't wait for the crushination when he's in good shape.

We softpedaled when Tony had to stop and pee, and for the first time that day, John dropped back and got on my wheel. "Hey Dave, your tire's low." The tube I'd put in at the car was certainly suspect. I flat so rarely on the road... my spares have been in and out of my pocket a hundred times, and rolled around in the back of my truck for months. It's a wonder they hold air at all. We stopped at a church and fixed it, with an equally suspect spare.

It was in the 40's outside, and John was getting warm, so he took the opportunity to remove his tights too, which were on under his bib and thus required that he take off every stitch of clothing he was wearing above the ankles; a lot of work, but he felt like a new man afterwards.

I also felt like a new man. I'm not sure how much of it was getting a break vs. fixing the flat, or them easing up, but the rest of the ride didn't kill me. I took my turns, and we had a pretty good time.

We stopped at one store, somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. I've been there before, but I couldn't tell you where it is. I've ridden this route like 6 or 8 times, but not having ever looked at a map of it, the whole thing seems anonymous. Fortunately it's anonymous, quiet, scenic, rolling, country roads. Rolling being one of the operative words there. There are like 400 hills. Maybe more. All hills, all day.

In the last 5 miles or so, I was managing cramps. John had gone through a bout and shook them off earlier. Tony seemed fine. He only fell back a few times all day, and I'm not sure he wasn't just digging something out of his pockets.

Me and John hung out at Charleys for a while, post-ride. I don't get to spend nearly enough time hanging out with him as I'd like. I'll have to make more of an effort to do that. We also watched 4 different custody swaps. It's Sunday night, time for junior to head back to Mom's house. I'd never noticed a custody swap before, but watch, now I'll see them everywhere. Like the dude-cruisers, it's another subculture that I've suddenly become aware of. I'll end up scrutinizing every partial-family sitting in parking lot on Friday or Sunday night. You learn something new every day.