The only thing that's keeping me sane lately is making time for bike rides. Day rides, night rides. They're not without their share of craptacular incidents. Yellow jacket stings (which include jumping off my bike at high speeds while spewing expletives at the top of my lungs), gouging my foot on the metal pins that protrude from my pedals (so I forgot my sneaks and refused to drive over 30 miles back to pick them up - yes, I had to pedal in my flippy floppies. This has taught me two things, that blood in large quantities is as vibrantly red as they portray in the movies, and that next time, I am driving back the 30 miles to get my shoes.), and flat tires (skidding in gravel, for fun or otherwise, will penetrate tires and destroy a perfectly good tube). Besides those wonderful things, nothing like sweat, mud, and bugs in my hair. Yet I love every minute. Well, almost every minute.
A hitchhiker! (Nom nom!) He was having