Mt. Hamilton Century

Holy cow, them old men can go up a hill fast. And down at a pretty good clip, too. I was not that bad going up, but of course could not change speeds when those spazzes like Bagboy Martin, or Spine boy Collins got all excited 'n stuff. Okay, slip back to the second group, and see if we can just tempo up. I gave them some of my umph, and Dylan C. told his boy to take it easy so another boy could come back, but apparently it was opposite day, today, so his disco boy went go go go. What the f? I chilled back with DC, waited for Big Boy Bosch and Troy B. but got my nervous boy arse dropped on the descent. Just could not let it go.

Oh, but swooping down the mt. was Olaf, with an Aussie in tow. We caught Troy B. and zeroed in on group 2. But a punch over a bump put me and Troy in trouble. Man, my legs suck. So, it was me and T left to work a little longer to catch the group.

We got them, though, and cruised it in. Then there was the snobby boy in me, irritated that I got stuck behind a guy who certainly has a nice sunburn strip between his jersey and shorts (bibs my boy), his visor sticking out is jersey pocket, a dirty bike, and simply unkept looking. Crichey, it is a beautiful sport, make and effort to look good. Again, snobby boy.

Okay, then getting ready for the ride back to SJ, the young punk pro who I drove up there up and split with his pro pals. Leaving me to drag old man Kramer and SLO boy Craig Nunnes back to SJ (Henry you know I'll drag you anywhere).

Anyway, one long ass day, at about a buck ten. Probably the longest day in nearly 15 years.

Then there was the 3 hour drive home. The long ass day was starting to wear on my ass. But hey, that young punk pro Kenny slept peacefully as I pegged it home. Good for him. The least he could have done, though, was wait for me and drag my booty back to SJ. Instead, I hear, he gave OV a hitch. No love, no love.

Anyway, nuff of this. Gran Prix of Monaco is on. Go L. Hamilton, get Alonso. Sure could have used one of those four wheel wonders today.