Between a Rock and Hard Place

Well the Super Bowl Sunday ride for 2011 is in the books, and let me say it went off the map. Literally. I was fortunate enough to secure overnight accommodations with some of the H'burg natives, and thus was able to fulfill one of the Foghorn mantras of riding to the ride. Actually, rode to the ride that rode to the ride. It was all good fun, what with the fire roads being covered with ice & all, essentially dual bobsled runs, beautiful. My tater hole puckered up tight as a ticks ass more times than once, but I managed to keep her upright and really had no problems negotiating the mess. I was fortunate to jump on the big loop led by none other than the mayor of H'burg hisself, Mike Carpenter. So 53 some odd miles, several beers and at least one bacon, sausage and cheese bagel later, Chad and I were able to slip away from the group and claim the city limits 1-2 for good ole Richmond. How or why that was allowed to happen remains a mystery, but it happened.

If I had remembered my camera, there would be some sweet pictures. As it were, I ripped this one from SVBC:


Moving on, I was looking forward to some leisure riding this weekend, when this call out came across these interwebbings:

ROOOSTER! I'm calling you out.

Sunday.

Love,
Marco Pantani.

I have no idea what he's talking about.

I thought Il Pirata and I broke up last year around this time, but apparently, I was wrong. He probably just needs a date for Valentine's Day. I just keep thinking Sunday Bloody Sunday.