Have you ever noticed in novels or non-fiction historical works that the initial steps are described in almost painstaking detail, but later events go by as in a whirlwind? Part of the reason for that is the author is establishing the foundations early on; a second reason may well be that memories after the first all-important ones become fuzzy and begin to merge.
Have you noticed that sometimes this "story" is in first person and sometimes in third? Have you noticed that sometimes it is written in present tense and sometimes in past, sometimes in the same sentence? Have you noticed that some of this is written quite informally and that some is not quite so informal? Have you noticed that sometimes the intended audience appears to be the "irregulars", sometimes it seems to be an unknown undefined amorphous general audience, and sometimes it seems to written with the author as the intended audience?
I'm writing as I'm thinking; sometimes I am "in the moment" in my memory, and sometimes not. I am not going to worry about tense agreement or a consistent voice -- as long I smile when I proof/re-read it, it goes.
Moments I recall (mostly with pleasure or humor) from season two:
First ride of the season, I wake in plenty of time, but fall prey to "just let me put my head back on the pillow for a moment", and re-awaken an hour or more later, only 3 minutes before the ride is supposed to start. I call Frank, apologize, tell him I'm on my way, and suggest he and Doug ride from PUE across Pleasant Union Ch Rd to BJP and back to help fill the time until I get there. "Wrong-way" Frank takes the suggestion about riding to fill the time, but rides Mt Vernon Ch Rd instead. What's the difference between the two roads? One is flat; one is not. Leave it to the Columbian mtn goat to fill time by riding the one that is not flat.
I finally arrived and we started only 30 or 35 minutes late. We decided to shorten the ride due to the late start. We ride MVC Rd (again for Frank & Doug) and then take Old Creedmoor / Carpenter Pond heading for Kemp Rd. The mtn goat in the lead. As we approach Kemp Rd, I realize that "Wrong-Way" Frank is not turning, point out the turn to Doug and suggest he ride "easy" until we catch back up, and then I tear out after Wrong-Way. Luckily, I can yell loudly even if I can't ride as fast as "WW". Frank hears me, turns around, and then we go to catch Doug. Doug has gotten worried because he doesn't know where he is (just moved to the Triangle from Dallas) and decides to wait for us -- at the bottom of the valley on Kemp between Coley and Virgil roads.
Weeks later, there are five or six of us in the group including WrongWay(?), Harvey, BigWaveDave,the Duke(?), Barry, and me. As we approach NC-98 on Olive Branch Rd, I was leading and Harvey was at the rear. There is traffic coming from both directions, so I stopped, put my foot/feet on the ground and am taking a good drink; Harvey apparently did not realize we were stopped for traffic, started to make a move to pass all of us at the stop sign and the next thing we know -- viola -- Snapper is on his back still clipped in with the bike now above him and all the liquid in his tri drinky thing all over him. Thus was Harvey christened "Snapper" by Barry and baptised as such by his own drink.
Some weeks later, again about five of us in the group (BWD(?), the Duke, Snapper(?), Barry, me), and Barry is struggling. After we cross the lake on Cheek Rd and make the turn for the little "loop" we do, Barry gets confused where he is, tells the Duke to go on without him, and heads straight down to the lake and marina on Olive Grove Ch Rd instead of turning onto Boyce Rd. The Duke arrives at the corner of Boyce and Old Weaver Trail where the rest of are waiting and informs us that Barry went straight because he was bailing out early / short and that the road going straight would take him back to New Light Rd more directly. "Well", I said, "Barry will be along shortly as that road is a dead end once it gets down to the lake / marina. He must have been confused as to where he was."
We waited for several minutes, and just as we decided to go looking for him, Barry comes riding up to us, admitting that he was confused and when he went straight he thought he was Old Weaver Trail. Even Barry likely thinks it is funny. Now.
This may have been the same ride that I mentioned in the vignettes for Chpt 1 -- the one where I could not keep up on Bruce Garner / New Light roads. I was so far behind when I got to Ghoston Rd, I decided to take the easier way back to PUE -- i.e., New Light / Six Forks instead of Ghoston-Peed-MVC. It never dawned on me that the rest of the group would wait for me at the Peed Store. Maybe everyone else laughs at that, now. Since then, I always finish G-P-MVC. It builds character.
One ride I was expecting Barry to show, but no one else. That was typical of season two. However, Barry did not show, so I rode solo. After I had completed my ride and wiped down my bike and changed my clothes and shoes all that, I got into the car to drive off. Then I notice that some jerk had stuck a candy bar wrapper under my driver's side windshield wiper. What the heck? I remove the wrapper and go on my way.
Next week, Barry asks "did you get my calling card?"
"What" I asked?
"I left a wrapper under your windshield wiper" he responded.
"Oh", I replied, "I thought someone was being a jerk and leaving their trash for me to deal with."
"Didn't you realize it was a wrapper from the type of energy bars I use", asked Barry.
"Barry", I replied, "I'm lucky if I notice the color of somebody's bike, let alone the food they eat."
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