Posted by: Jessie | March 19, 2012

A Terribly Unsuccessful Day


It seems like everything I tried to do today was unsuccessful.  I overslept, my morning chores took longer than they should have,  and I just couldn’t get it together.  The day was slipping away from me.

My plan had been to get up early, go to the gym, run my errands on the bike, then ride out to Friendship Tavern and verify their hours (in prep for a ride-to-eat later this month) then ride out to Cliffty Falls and back.  I had planned to spend about 5 hours on the bike today.  See, I have a crazy idea that I might ride the bike to Florida this spring, and I thought it was a good idea to start some long ride training before attempting a 1000 mile ride.

It became apparent that I was not going to make it to the gym, so I took the dogs for a long walk, ate a quick lunch and then changed clothes, made myself an ice cold beverage, geared up and ran out the door.  As soon as I turned off my street I faced the first sign that this ride was not going to go the way I planned.  The road I usually take was blocked with big trucks and blinking lights.  I took a quick detour, then I was on my way.  I had been on the road about 5 minutes before I realized that my ice cold 32-oz Crystal Light was still sitting on the kitchen counter.  Bummer.  Oh well.  Maybe they will have diet Gatorade at the gas station in Rising Sun.

I was headed down Harrison Pike towards Miamitown when traffic came to a stop.  I could not see much because there was a cement truck in front of me.   There was no traffic coming towards me in the other lane… then an ambulance came by, without lights or sirens.  Then cars in front of me started turning around and going the other way.  When the cement truck turned around I could see lots of police cars with blinking lights ahead.  I figured they had the road blocked, so I turned around too.  I thought I would just take the highway to Lawrenceburg, then take 50 to Aurora and Rising Sun.  Unfortunately I was thinking about the roadblock and wondering if there had been a wreck instead of watching the signs.  I missed my exit.  I kept going until I saw a sign for Dry Fork Road.  I knew where that road went, so I exited there.

I took a shortcut through Miami Whitewater Park.  When I stopped at the park exit my bike stalled.  Weird.  It took a few tries to get it started again.  Also weird.  I sat there for a bit gently reving the engine and listening to it.  The engine sounded fine.  I made a mental note to ask Eric to take a look at it.  I waited for all the traffic to clear before I pulled out onto the main street, just in case it stalled again.

As I was waiting a guy on a Harley rode by.  He had the perfect biker look.  His Harley had tassels on the handlebars, and leather saddlebags with conchos and tassles.  The bike was loud enough that you knew it was a Harley, but not so loud to be disturbing.  He had long hair and a beard that blew in the wind.  His jeans and cowboy boots were complimented by his Harley Davidson T-shirt with a deer skull on it.  No protective gear at all.  I waved.  He ignored me.  No surprise.  Harleys usually only wave at Harleys.  I was on the wrong kind of bike.  Oh well.  That’s ok.  He can think he’s cooler than me.  I don’t mind.

I got back on the road and headed towards Miamitown.  I like this road.  Nice scenery, a few sweeping turns.  I caught up to the Harley.  “That’s odd.”  I thought,  “It looks like sparks coming off the back of his bike.  Hmm.  Maybe he dropped his cigarette.”  As I rode a little closer I was thinking that something was not right.   There were more sparks.  Then on the downhill sweepers right before the stoplight I saw him stick his foot out like Fred Flintstone…  Like he was going to stop that bike with his foot!  Then I saw the little flame.  Was it coming out of his exhaust?  No… it’s his back brake.  His back brake caliper was on fire.  The good news is that his front brake was working and he was able to stop at the red light at the bottom of the hill.  There is no way he could have stopped that bike with his foot.  I was glad he did not crash into the two cars already stopped at the light.  As I pulled up behind him my bike stalled again.  I flipped up my face shield and yelled “Dude, your bike is on fire!”  He kinda looked around a bit.  Wouldn’t look at me.  I’m still on the wrong kinda bike.  I yelled again “Dude, your back brake is on fire!”  He pulled over to the side of the road, jumped off his bike and walked around it.  He jumped back a little when he saw the flame.  Then he blew on it.  It didn’t go out.  He walked briskly into the nearest store, which happened to be a bicycle shop.  Wow.   I wondered how long it would take him to get water from a bicycle shop.  Now I REALLY wished I had that 32-oz bottle of ice cold Crystal Light.    I tried to think of something I could do to help.  I could not think of a thing.  I didn’t have anything I could throw on the fire.  There was not even any loose dirt nearby.

By this time the light had changed and people were yelling at me to get out of the road.  It took two or three tries to get my bike started.  I thought about pulling up in the parking lot next to him and sticking around to see if I could help, but I was having bike issues of my own.  Since he didn’t seem to want to wave at me or even look at me, I figured he didn’t want me sticking around unless I could be usefull.  So I rode off.  I felt guilty leaving him there, but I figured he would be ok.  He didn’t have far to go to get help.  Pro Stock Performance was on the opposite corner of that inner section.   Pro Stock Performance is a motorcycle shop, but they have fast sport bikes.  The wrong kind of bikes.  There are also a couple of Harley bars within walking distance of where this guy was parked, so if he didn’t want help from Pro Stock I’m sure he could find some Harley help at one of the bars.

But I still felt bad leaving him there.

My bike stalled again at the next light, so instead of continuing on my ride I just hopped up on the highway and headed home.  I kept the revs high so as not to stall out at the next two lights on the way home.

When I got home I started a load of laundry and puttered around a bit.  I was supposed to meet a friend at Mayday for hot dogs and beer.  She had a horrible day yesterday and needed someone to commiserate with.  I was just starting to get ready to go when the phone rang.  It was the dermatologist’s office.  They removed a mole from my back last week and sent it to the lab to be tested.  The nurse said a lot of words that I didn’t understand… what I heard reminded me of Charlie Brown’s teacher.  “Whaaa wha wha consistent with the very beginning stages of skin cancer whaa wha wha whaaa but we have to treat it like it is cancer.  The doctor whaa wha wha cut whaa wha wha whaaa.  Can you come in tomorrow?”

EEEK!

I set up an appointment with the dermotologist and I headed right out to the bar to meet Jess.  Could my day possibly be more unsuccessful?  I did not make it to the gym, I did not get my ride, I did not finish my errands.  I forgot my ice cold beverage, my bike now has a stalling problem, and I can’t even put out a tiny little fire.  And I have the beginning stages of skin cancer.  And I’m so busy thinking about cancer that I’m not a good listener for my friend.  I need a strong IPA to help me forget about my day.  I read that hoppy beers are good for fighting cancer.  What???  Mayday does not have any IPA’s on tap this week?  Strongbow, Anchor Steam, Pabst Blue Ribbon, blah blah blah.  How about a bottled beer?  Can I have a bourbon barrel?  What?  They’re out of bottles of Kentucky Bourbon Barrell Ale too?  AAWWW!   This is not my day.

I don’t have a picture to go with this post.  It would have been interesting to get a picture of the Harley’s brake caliper on fire, but I’m just not a big enough jerk to take a picture and then leave.  Although… that picture would have met this week’s photo challenge, “unusual.”

Oh, wait…  how about a pic of Mr. Yuck to sum up my day!

Mr. Yuck is mean... Mr. Yuck is... GREEN! Mwha-ha-ha-ha!

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