Relative Something

I had one job to do this weekend: go for bike rides with Paul. The rest of the hours were agenda-free and I made the best of my time by relaxing to the maximum degree. While the twelve other guys were golfing, I had the place to myself, which rarely happens at the lake. The solitude was magnificent. I had a range of Olympic event options for sports spectating keeping me company indoors and gorgeous weather to lure me outside where I explored the surroundings alone.

Friday morning started with a mysterious sound coming from the woods in the pre-dawn hours that my waking self took a long time to diagnose. I deduced it was coming from somewhere very close so I forced my eyes open and spied through the trees to catch a glimpse of movement on the roof of the property next door. There was a crew of guys ripping off the old shingles. The rest of the day was filled with the repeating rat-tat-tat of new shingles getting nailed.

I walked the mini-labyrinth Cyndie and I created in the woods and soaked up sunshine on the deck. A short nap might have happened to the rhythmic sounds of a roofing crew hard at work.

When Paul returned in the mid-afternoon, it was time to ride. On Friday, we started on gravel which was a challenge on my Trek Domane with slick tires. Paul has a new gravel bike that handled it well. I felt like I was trying to hold my bike on the edge of a ski boat wake and more than once had to muscle the front wheel back in place to avoid calamity. When we popped out onto pavement at the end of the fire lane road, the smooth ride felt like a new world. We sailed along for more miles than we’d planned because the roads and surroundings were so nice.

On Saturday, the radar indicated we had limited time before a storm would be arriving so we skipped the gravel and chose a different route that still connected with the latter half of Friday’s ride to enjoy that great rolling ribbon of pavement a second time. Made it back before raindrops started to fall.

This weekend was the first time I’ve been on my bike since riding the Tour of Minnesota in June. I surprised myself with how strong I felt on our Friday jaunt. My muscles in the latter half of yesterday’s excursion let me know they hadn’t been used at that intensity on consecutive days since June.

The legs get a rest today. I’ll be driving home this morning to trade places with Cyndie as she comes up for a few days with a friend.

This year’s guys’ golf weekend has been a treat, made all the more special for me by two great bike rides in the woods with Paul. I’m lucky the group has included me in their long-running annual tradition.

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