TdC, take II

Crazy Jose came to town late last night. He had some flooring to pick up in town and was more than a little intrigued by my ride plans. He braved the 17 all the way down from Flag in the Pinzgauer with the monster cross bike loaded in the back. This morning we rolled out at seven with Joe, Mark on the Crosscheck/Extracycle, Mike on a Bianchi SS mountain bike, Eithne on the old road bike I sold her, and me on the Volpe. We looked like a crazy little rag-tag group, all of us each on very different bikes.

Joe and I had taken a vote the night before and decided that a cookie stop was in order and the others did not put up a fight. We stopped at LGO and I thought it best not to mess with a good thing.

The benefit of riding with someone with a kickstand.

Hey, if it works, why change it?

From there we caught the AZ canal and headed to the dam. Everything was gravy until we were about 4-5 miles from the bee-line highway when the wind started picking up. It was alternating from crosswind to headwind and it pretty much slowed us all down. At the highway we had to wait for a break in the Ironman riders to cross. DPS was not pleased that we had decided to stay and cheer for a while so we kept going. The road got rougher and stayed that way for the next 10 or 12 miles. The wind only got worse, especially after the turn. We didn't miss the turn the turn this time saving the couple of miles. It continued to be a hard ride into the wind all the way to Tempe Town Lake where we stopped for the only flat of the day. This is where we lost Mark because he wanted to find a friend that was at the Ironman. The four of us that remained crossed the lake on Mill looking for the AZ crosscut canal. We missed it somewhere so we headed up and through Papago. By this point we were all very tired and our main motivation was eating lunch somewhere close to home.

I should have known something was up when Joe wanted to stop with less than five mile to food, I should have known when he came out of the gas station with a huge fountain drink loaded with ice, and I really should have known when he kept holding onto a large cup of ice long after the liquid was gone. Riding along, minding my own damn business and all of a sudden I feel a tug on the back of my shorts and then it's an ass full of ice for me. I never thought about it before but god damn it if the elastic around the legs of riding shorts isn't always a good thing. I grabbed the brakes hard and went to work dumping my new load. BTW, I'm really sorry that the family in the Suburban had to see my junk, but that's the way it goes.

Anyway, Mike peeled off and headed for home when Joe, Eithne, and I turned toward Chipotle. A cheap burrito never tasted so good. Now I'm a tired ass mofo and I'm off to take a nap.

*Late Edit*

56 miles, 1000 feet, and just under 5 hours ride time.