I've been aiming for an average daily mileage of 15, which I had first reached on June 13. Because I'm using my birth year as the calendar for this exercise that is actually seven months into the year, not six. To be precise, it is actually 197 days into the cycle.
Lately though, what with the rain, shootings, flood, heat, and humidity, I've been slacking off. For every day I don't ride or ride less than 15 miles I slide backward quickly. Funny how riding more has less affect on the average than riding less. That is, I drop back quickly and struggle to make up lost ground.
This morning I thought I'd get out early enough to take the 11-mile Route in to work. For one reason and another, I didn't leave sufficiently early for the long route but could add a couple of Levee Path miles without being late to work.
If only . . .
As I rounded Lafayette Street I saw the train on the levee line not moving at all. I couldn't hear an engine chugging anywhere either.
Florida Street was blocked.
North Boulevard was blocked.
The road between the casino parking garages was blocked.
Now I'm on Saint Phillip headed to South Boulevard hoping to see the crossing open but it isn't. I should have turned and gone into Beauregard Town toward the Lakes but bulled ahead onto Nicholson and its blown out expansion joints, speeding traffic, and puddles.
When I saw the train across the road on Oklahoma I knew I was screwed but good. There's no way across the tracks until McKinley and I had no desire to ride Nicholson that far.
That train had to be almost 2 miles long, sitting still, and blocking any number of crossings. Oh well. Sucks to be you!
I took an old route I hadn't used in quite a long time. That kind of made it easy to see changes along the way. The biggest change I noticed was a large water oak had come down. Judging by the blue tarp covering the roof of the house the tree once stood in front of, I'm guessing it wasn't a planned drop.
There is also a fairly large lot, one block long by half a block wide, immediately behind Magnolia Mound that has always been well cared for. It looks like a small park with a few pine trees and oaks, maybe a magnolia. I've never seen anyone on the property, with the exception of the mower methodically riding his circuit decapitating grass.
I only lost a quarter mile from my usual morning ride mileage and thought I'd make it up at lunch with a little four-mile loop on campus. When I finally left for lunch the thunderstorms were headed our way. I opted to take the direct route to lunch and thought I'd just ride the long way home to make the distance.
Back at work, 4.30 PM almost on the dot, I receive a call from the Fraud Prevention Unit of my debit card company. Not the credit union but the card company. After the usual prerecorded palaver I'm told that I need to speak to a human . . . please wait . . . your call is . . . yeah, yeah, yeah . . . great.
It's Friday afternoon at 4.38 PM when I am told, "Because you did not order over $1,000.00 of merchandise from a ginseng company your card is no longer valid. You can go to your bank to get a new one or tell us to mail you a new one (to arrive within a week)."
Really? I've got 22 minutes to get to my bank and get them to issue a new card before they close for the weekend, the weekend of the first home football game of the season? Campus is literally crawling with tailgaters looking for "their" spot and little else. No way am I getting to the credit union in time.
Reconciled to having to wait until tomorrow to deal with the card issue, I finish what I'm doing. By the time I'm ready to leave it's raining again. The sun is out and I think of the old saying, "The Devil is beating his wife." Rather than ride in the rain, which I believe will be brief, I get out my new read, "The Passage," by Justin Cronin, and pick up the story where I left off at lunch.
Twenty or thirty minutes later the rain has more or less stopped and I'm on my way. By know I've given up on the idea of taking the long way home. Campus is even more crowded with tailgaters setting up for tomorrow's game. There are people everywhere and I'm nervous on the street knowing how distracted they all are.
I make it to the Levee Path and notice the double rainbow behind me in the east. Yesterday's Cloud Appreciation Society "Cloud of the Day" was not a cloud but ‘Alexander’s Dark Band,’ the strip of sky between a primary and secondary rainbow that tends to look slightly darker than the sky elsewhere. Sure enough, there it is. And the right hand side of the primary rainbow is so incredibly intensely bright near the horizon it looks like it's on fire.
It's still spitting rain as I head up river. As I near the Terrace Street Pumping Station near the Bridge I see the path is blocked but the new detour is open. It's a little odd navigating the turns but the new path seems to be well made and has a curb when it runs parallel to River Road. Maybe that will keep most of the cars off the path?
I figure the Levee is still blocked by the AT&T mobile cell tower truck so drop to South Boulevard to take the casino parking garages road to Government. As I'm about to turn off South I notice two lanes on one side of South are open. They have been closed for a month and I've grown accustomed to there being no motor traffic coming from that direction. Good thing I noticed it.
Government / River Road remains closed around the River Center. The Flood refugees have been there long enough to have found a good place across the street to sit outside in the afternoon. The amount of trash littering the area is a sure sign of regular occupation.
I thought I'd just stay on River Road to Florida since it's mostly closed and there isn't much traffic, usually. Today, however, is the first Live After 5 concert of the fall featuring Rockin' Doopsie and, despite the light intermittent rain, there is a crowd and that means motor traffic. They have also moved the stage down from Town Square to Repentance Park due to the demolition of the River Center Branch Library so I can't ride up to the Plaza from River Road. Too many people.
Ah well . . . as we used to say, adapt or die.
Good thing I had some cash on me now that my debit card is dead. I picked up a little something for dinner and some beer at the Mathern's and headed home.
It's been an interesting and . . . um . . . shall we say, "fluid" day.
