Witches’ Brew

Fair is foul, and foul is fair. / Hover through the fog and filthy air

“Out damned spot…will these hands ne’er be clean?”…Oops, wrong character

Macbeth’s witches have got it exactly right. Walking Luke the Dog this morning, the hags’ refrain kept running through my head. The red ball of the sun barely broke through the orange smoky sky.

There is no way I’m going to ride in this muck. And looking at the map of California and the western US, my travel options to find some smoke free cycling are pretty limited.

If you read this blog you know that this year has not been my best on the bike. No club rides, no trips to Europe, and only a couple of brief out of town trips. My miles are down, and my climbing total is way, way down. Starting so many rides from Casa Brumby will do that; we don’t exactly live in Dolomite-like terrain. I’m well on my way to my lowest cycling totals since I retired from full time work.

But cycling is the main thing that has been keeping me sane during this pandemic craziness. And now with the smoke, I can’t even do that.

So, in this year that keeps on giving, I am actually considering setting up my stationary trainer in the basement so I can keep what fitness I have. Desperate times indeed. I hate indoor cycling. It has been several years since I have done it. But until the witches cast a spell to clear the air, I might be pedaling without going anywhere. Which seems appropriate for 2020.

I’d rather have a tooth pulled…actually that is coming up too. Thank you 2020!

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Post a comment

Post a Comment

You must be logged in to post a comment.

We reserve the right to remove any content at any time from this Community, including without limitation if it violates the Community Rules. We ask that you report content that you in good faith believe violates the above rules by clicking the Flag link next to the offending comment or fill out this form.
  • Categories

  • Archives