Saturday: heat's got everyone crazy. Crazy like a honey badger.
Our team set out to divide and conquer--by which I mean that some kids went mountain biking and some kids went road biking. Jay and I decided to test our mettle against some other local FakeRacers (real racers, not a real race).
The Bitter Dose guys were out in new kits. They looked like a Damien Hirst painting:
...I'll let you guess which one. I'm not sure if their kits were actually inspired by the Hirst painting, but they do look pretty cool. I would have preferred that they went with his shark-in-formaldahyde design. Some people will tell you that sharks are ocean creatures and don't have anything to do with cycling, but to hell with those people.
Either way, I was jealous because we too have new kits, but since I haven't picked mine up yet, I was sporting last year's duds. However, we were quickly spotted before the ride by a cheerful chap on a shiny Pegoretti: none other than Linus' dad. He was apparently keeping Orange County's roads rad while Linus is on vacation. We chatted with him for a while before the peloton showed up and we were off. I quickly jumped into line and was checking out our cross-town rivals' kits. Despite the fact that the Regulators say that they have a picture of a rearing bull on their jersey, I'm still convinced that it looks like a dancing doberman, but what do I know?
As for the ride: the ride was a ride, you don't want to hear about that. Some people went fast, some people went faster, some people went slow then went home and jumped in a pool and drank margaritas. Jay's getting faster each and every week, rebuilding after some serious physical therapy for a torn hamstring. Kent from Durham also rode a notable ride, bridging across a long and lonely gap and sticking with the lead group to the end. Did I mention that some dudes don't like to take pulls? That's not even worth mentioning, that always happens on these rides. Come on guys, get extreme!!!
But the really interesting thing happened when Kent and I were lollygagging our way back to Mapleview Farm. We had been passed on Union Grove Church Road by a solo rider pedaling at a chipper clip. He was soon out of sight, by as we crested a little hill, we saw a man on the roadside tending to a shapeless pile. My mind quickly started building a Cohen brothers movie scenario where some hapless passerby stumbles upon some killer trying to dispose of a body. That seemed too crazy so I re-wrote the scene, replacing the "killer" with a "rouge gardener" and "a body" with "yard debris" (I suppose I would also need to replace "Cohen brothers movie" with "Carrboro public service announcement about the atrocities of improper composting"; however someone probably ends up dead in both). By this time, we had rolled up on the scene and found that the cyclist was sprawled out on the pavement and a guy was tending to him. No cars were present, so I guessed it was either a hit and run or heatstroke. The non-cyclist turned out to be a friendly guy who lived across the street (it's a rural area, so fortunately he noticed the cyclist) and as the cyclist sat up and began to explain what happened, the culprit turned out to be a deer. The cyclist was road-rashed and slightly disoriented, but didn't show any signs of broken bones or massive trauma. He became more lucid and philosophical (it was his birthday) as we waited for the ambulance, so our concerns were eased. Lots of motorists and cyclists stopped to offer help, which always makes you feel good about your community. The one alarming thing that did happen about 10 minutes after we showed up was a little rustling from the adjacent culvert and the emergence of a gimpy and confused deer. It was clear that this was our culprit, but it was unclear if it had a broken leg or just needed to walk off the effects of getting hit by a cyclist. Either way, it limped off into the woods out of sight.
There are a lot of deer out on the roadways these days. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: be careful out there.