Friday evening as we pedalled our way through Hope Ranch, we saw a family of skunks crossing the road. They stopped, looked both ways, and crossed in a tidy single-file line, just like a childrens’ book. My precious meter pinged off the scale.
And no, I didn’t stop for a pic. This blog would be so much better if, among other things, I actually carried a camera with me when setting out for adventures. Alas.
Today’s ride was all about the critters. First, the dog. Bark, bark. Oh, look, there’s a dog barking at us as we pass. Good thing he’s behind that fence. Bark, bark. Oh, look, there’s a hole in that fence. Here comes the dog. Bark, bark. How do they know that they should aim for the front wheel? Secret doggy senses. Bark, bark, sprint, ears flapping all wild like. Since I’m not adventurous enough to broadside the dog, I locked up the brakes all tightlike and stopped. Doggy looked up with a doggy sort of grin, turned around, and trotted off, tail wagging. That was fun. Woof.
Then, the squirrel. Look, a squirrel. Good thing he’s by the side of the road. Oh, look, he’s going to run into the road. Oh, look, there’s the front wheel. Then, the squirrel changed his mind. Then, he changed it again. And again. By the side of the road, little dude spun his little self in circles. Am I going to run out into the bikey riders’ wheels or am I going to stay out of the way? Ooooh, I can’t decide. Spin, spin. Maybe I should go this way. Spin, spin. Which way should I go? Spin, spin. Good thing he couldn’t make up his little squirrely mind. Dizzy squirrel.
The first Italian word I learned watching the Giro? Caduta, meaning crash. If there’s a caduta generale? The whole field crashes. (There, now you can say you learned something reading blogs today. I’m so on your team right now.) Since the first stage of the race is always all nervylike, you’ll hear Caduta over and over. The Italian cameras linger lovingly over the carnage, and the always excitable Bulba (yes, it’s a national stereotype, but in this case, so totally true), gets all jiggy with the Caaaduuuutaaa! Uh, huh. Anyway, too bad for Z today, leaving the Giro on a caduta. Hopefully, all will be well for him soon.
Which reminds me of one of my fave things about the Italian commentators, Bulba and Cassani. Though they clearly love dearly their Italian stars, they comment generously about the non-Italian riders. Want to know the major results of the neo-pro from Ukraine in the break? They’ll give it to you, along with some colorful story of another. So pro. They all but swooned over Z’s time trial position last year. The kids over at OLN could learn a thing or two. Just sayin’
Pellizotti in Pink? Such a cutey.
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My question is, how is he able to maintain stylishly-unstyled curly hair after he’s spent hours on the bike (with stylishly-unstyled hair under helmet)?
Products. Lots and lots of products.>>He probably has a TUE, just for his hair.
Theraputic Use Exemption.>>The get out of jail free card from the UCI allowing use of (some) meds at the races. Petacchi had one for his asthma thingy, but then went over the levels allowed on the TUE.>>Waaay more than you wanted to know, eh?
AP’s was an abbreviated TUE…I have not heard of that type have you? Cassani is cool…he is the one who basically got the Chicken cooked and flown out of the TdF last year.
I so heart Cassani. Funny though, he didn’t mean to blow Cluck Cluck’s story. I guess he was just doing a little schtick about how Ras trains so hard, so hard I saw him out in the rain in the Dolomiti last month. Oopsy.>>Si, you only need an abbreviated TUE for some common meds – some asthma, some allergy. I think Pelliz probably needs the real deal for that hair.