Beer Mortars and Eric Tartar

This past weekend I planned on doing my required training a bit earlier in the day, without the group, so I would be able to attend social obligations later in the day.

For road bicyclists, or “roadies” as I call them, this is flat out a bad idea. They travel in groups for good reason. First, roadies are much more visible to drivers in a big group. And secondly, an a$$hole behind the wheel is less likely to try something cute with so many witnesses.

Case in point: I am about 6 or so miles into the 44 miles I planned to ride this past Saturday, going up a short hill – all by my lonesome on a side road in Bernardsville, NJ, or thereabouts. That’s when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something falling out of the trees, or so I thought.

Assuming that it was a plastic bottle that had been whisked into a tree branch on a previously windy day that New Jersey gets quite frequently, I slowed a bit – and a good thing I did.

As I slowed, I noticed something strange: The trash was falling faster than an empty plastic bottle would and it seemed not to come straight down, but in an arc from the left, and then SMASH! It burst upon the ground not five feet in front of me, sending shards of glass and beer across the pavement.

Had I kept my pace, this beer mortar very likely would have hit me. But where did it come from? I then figured out (after a few colorful epithets were shouted) that the beer bottle had been lobbed out of the passenger side window of a truck passing in the opposite direction.

No, I didn’t get a good look at the car, license plate or the driver. But be on the look out for bald person with exceptionally large cheeks, no nose, eyes or ears exceptionally bad breath.

And about five minutes later, a Doberman and his Jack Russell terrier crony decided I had no business pedaling past their front lawn and/or my legs looked tasty. They were denied a sample of Eric Tartar.

Side note: if you are a dog owner, please fence your dogs in or tie them up when you are not around, please? I love dogs, but when large, angry ones chase me and try to use me as an in-between-meals snack, my love for canines dips considerably.

After the beer lobbing incident and then the dogs, the ride went fairly smoothly. I guess I was shaken up after being used as a target for beer horseshoes, and I missed one turn, and that added 3 miles, so I finished the day logging 47 miles.

On Sunday we rode 20 miles to recover from Saturday. I haven’t quite got my head around the idea of the “recovery ride” yet. I mean, you don’t fix a stubbed toe by dropping a brick on your little piggies, right?

So that makes for a total of 67 miles this weekend, and yes, I am walking a bit funny.

But it's all to get in shape for the 100 miles in June and all to help fight leukemia.

http://www.active.com/donate/tntnonj/tntnonjEFlemin

More updates to come

E