I’m not going to lie, when the alarms went off at 5:30 this morning I would have been happy to turn them off and go straight back to sleep. But no, I dragged myself out of bed, put on yesterday’s damp riding costume, and headed downstairs to the easy carb loading offered by the Holiday Inn Express complimentary breakfast–thanks, Jackie, for putting it out early for us! We got on buses for a ride over the bridge before collecting our bikes, slathering on sunscreen, and putting air in our tires.
Today I rode my first century, and here are some things I saw: fields and fields and fields of golden flowers; rows of just-sprouted somethings; horses playing chase with each other; chicken houses; two miniature ponies in a field that wasn’t miniature at all; swamps and marshes; purple flowers; patches of irises that I wanted to gather for my mom for mother’s day; piles of food and happy faces every 20 miles or so; a dead snake and a dead possum with his mouth open, blood still staining the road; and so, so so, many fields and farms like this one and others with waving greens. Oh, and a whole bunch of bicyclists. I saw a zillion other things too, but mostly I saw all of us kick out our miles, and even in those last 7 miles of driving rain, I was pretty much a happy clam. I could spin all day every day, so beautiful it is. We shall see how I feel tomorrow, but tonight I feel warm all over, tired and a bit addled, and altogether satisfied. Huzzah!
I woke up early this morning, packed my bags, and hopped on the Surly for the short ride to the Moveable Feast headquarters over on North Milton in East Baltimore to load up for our ride to Ocean City for our ride back home. I followed my googleymap directions for the fastest route, left on 25th, continue onto N. Wolfe, a left on Ashland, another left Milton. My ride took me through neighborhoods that today all looked the same–boarded up rowhouses between others with open doors and filled stoops, few trees, plenty of cars, folks selling snacks and water and car washes, and this Clifton branch of the Pratt Library that looked closed without the side decorations of trees and flowers, and then Johns Hopkins and their East Baltimore developments. I dropped my bike and walked the mile and a half to the bus pick up stop–those who know me will be unsurprised to hear I was over an hour early. It will be a different ride tomorrow, but this is the home I’ll come home to, and I like it.