Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Not Bluffin'...Bluffton

Last weekend I ventured off to the northeast corner of the state to join a group of 70 or so of my closest friends in a camping/July 4 extravaganza. I've been hearing of this intimate gathering for years and never being one to miss a party, I figured it was probably time I showed up to check it out.

All that said, I lost approximately three vital ragbrai training weeks on the bike after falling on my head recently, so I knew if I wanted to partake, it would mean less partying and more riding.

The good news is, misery loves company. At least around these parts...and my neighbor/friend Aaron found himself in much the same training predicament for his own reasons, which I will not divulge here, because well, I am not even really sure what they are.

Thus, Aaron and I came to a little agreement: we'll camp, ride, and forego the optional canoe and tube day in favor of additional pedaling.

I am not gonna lie: when everyone loaded their respective 57 cases of beer into their canoes the second morning, I second guessed Aaron's and my little plan.

I third and fourth guessed it too.

My ass was bloody from an 87 miler the day before on a new-to-me-saddle (who's the dummy?), the sky was dreary and the air thick; and somehow sitting on my ass floating downstream while drinking a cold one seemed a much better proposition than pedaling up switchbacks all day.

So me being me, I promptly took a pee, and headed back to bed.

Not to be deterred on his mission and neighborly promise/pact...Aaron patiently sat outside my tent long after the canoers left, awaiting my timely appearance:

And he waited.
And he waited.

After morning turned to afternoon and I awoke from what was probably my 30th nap of the day and STILL found Aaron there in that chair, I realized there was probably no way he was letting me out of this little pact I made, so I kitted up and we headed out.

In the meantime, this guy...he took over my queen sized air bed he'd made fun of earlier but secretely seethed with envy over, and took himself a nap. This camping stuff, it's hard work people!

Where this guy came from is another story for another day, because it's a long one and I tend to get all emotional and windy when I speak of him...but let's just say that it is not everyday that a gal like me finds herself in the company of two such caring, hilarious, and not to mention...insanely handsome men...especially ones that take naps on monkey sheets, cook tortelini for breakfast, love my misbehaved dogs like they are their own, and make me laugh until my face hurts.

AND, in extra added bonuses, as IF I needed more reason to continue to fill this weekend utterly full of awesome, Aaron and I had ourselves a hum dinger of a ride that day. We saw ourselves some deer, crazy looking birds that I could not identify, and a bald eagle. And we climbed. A lot.

And that night, after we returned, I parked my machine of the pedaling type, showered, and hopped on the back of this motorized beauty...and helped log miles 14,001 through 14,050 of that sleepy guys' epic journey across North America:

Those bikes look good together, don't you think?

And then, sadly, as if it were all a dream...I awoke and the bike with the motor and the beautiful man on it...they were gone.

And somehow, he seemed to take with him, Aaron's and my motivation (okay mine and Aaron acquiesced).

Not to be deterred by our missing motivation, we spent the remainder of the day laughing our tails off as we watched my dogs steal toast from other campers' breakfast plates, treated ourselves to a few cocktails, later after we'd packed our shit in Aaron's truck, we somehow summoned the means to climb up this, have a beer, and fly back down... way, way faster than we probably should have:

We also stopped to see this, although it will probably be hard for YOU to see this, because, well, I apparently had the shakes:

And THEN we headed back south. And I promptly passed out for four hours and dear Aaron drove me home.

The End.

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