What a bunch of asses...

What a screwy ride...
Brandon and I met up at my house for a three hour ride. I think it started out wrong when I left without him because he wasn't there at 2 ( I didn't really leave him, but I wanted him to think I had ). As I pulled out of my subdivision, he is turning the corner, so I flip him the bird as if to say, "see ya". He didn't look too worried.

I took a lap around the hood and came back to meet him and so we rolled out. We decided to do this loop I am going to start calling "The Devil's Triangle". I had this goofy idea to start naming the ride loops...I dunno, I get bored easy and try to entertain myself. Anyway, we were heading to Trader's Point via Zionsville to get some shelter from the 15+ mph wind out of the west. Once down around Eagle Creek Park, we'd do a few rounds of the more prominent "peaks" over that way, head north to Whitestown and then east back home (almost a perfect triangle). It's a nice little 3 hour loop that is perfect for days when the wind is from the west or the southwest.

So we are leaving and we get around 3 or 4 miles out and Brandon blows a spoke in his rear wheel. So he decides to bag it and head back to his car and I decide to venture on, alone. It was a bright sunny day and even though the wind was stiff and it was cold, I was dressed perfectly and the sun was nice on my face and I was happy to be out for a change. I thought for a second about cutting it to 2 or 2.5 hours, but I figured I was up for the challenge and besides, I am going to be without bike for the next 4 days. I felt really good today and I pushed it on the hills. My climbing legs aren't here yet, but I definitely feel better than I remember feeling in years past at this point in the season.

So, about the asses...

I am out off of Lafayette Road on Kissel cruising along and off to my right I hear this "commotion" and these funny sounding voices. Through the trees I can see them, running...right at me and screaming...it's stampede of assses...like a dozen of them. I think they were trying to tell me something and I would have loved to have known what it was. And then I thought to myself...huh, a stampede of asses yelling at me...it's a lot like work every day. Next time we go out that way I'll point them out. They are out all the time but they never say too much.