People in Canada had a long weekend in the not too distant past celebrating the birth of this nation, as well as the one to the south. No. I do not mean Mexico, although I would like to celebrate their independence day as well (doing this would involve drinking Tequila).
Right, so on this day I took a train to St. Catharines, Ontario. I call this train training. "But, you beautiful hunk of blogger-dom, why are you training to take a train. Surely you have lots of experience in this matter after having taken first class trains to Ottawa." Yes, my lovely porpoises, I am in fact well versed in trains, but one must train to be stay in peak physical form when trains are involved. They are not called the "Foxes of the rails" for no reason.
Hmm? What's that? Are they not called that? Well they bloody well should be.
Anyways, contrary to the past, this time I was not travelling alone. I was accompanied by my lovely companion, LT. LT is my beautiful bike, short for Lime Trek. Little did we know, that the prince of lies, Leo the retiree, would make me regret putting my sweaty bottom on LT's top tube.
Hmm, is anyone else aroused right now after reading that last part? Keep reading to avoid the embarrassing silence.
Leo is by far the strongest cyclist I know. He has shamelessly been embarrassing people younger than him for quite some time now. He is also the person who spearheaded the Mont Ventoux climb. Leo, fully kitted out in his LOOK at ME gear, started the 60 km ride from his mansion summer home in St. C. A query about the ride description warranted the answer "we are doing all the hills"from him. This is generally never a good sign.
On a sweltering day KT and Leo took the lead, while MT and I bravely made sure that no one got dropped and/or got attacked by Polar Bears who like to attack when a person's back is turned.
We hit the first hill which was steep, but not too bad. With us, just out of breath, Leo, cheerfully piped up "it's all downhill from here." He added looking at my cheerful and hopeful countenance "till we hit the next uphill". This was delivered with the best timing possible, and had the desired effect of destroying a tiny part of my soul. Current theories are that he derives his power from breaking mortals.
We rode on happily as a bunch, at a jaunty pace, and before you know it, we arrived. Effingham Hill. Also called by the locals as F-ing Hill. Leo, looked back at his cherished daughter, and then proceeded to accelerate up the hill with a blatant disregard for the laws of physics leaving her vulnerable to Bear Attacks. Thankfully, MT and I were still in the back ever vigilant for polar bear attacks. If you think about it, we are the real heroes in this case.
As we were constantly looking behind us for the killers of theAntarctic Artic Wherever they are from Tundra we failed to notice the wall of asphalt aka F-ing hill. Bravely, we decided to switch to the lowest gear we had, and headed up hill.
We were not going very fast mind you and for 85% of the hill, we were doing fine. I saw a white helmetted head peer over a distant crest, to check up on our well being. I was reassured that the end was near. And then it got hard. Really hard. My heart rate went to zero as my heart exploded and I realised that the end was indeed near. My End. And this is not a joke about my bottom.
It was at this point in time I noticed, that Leo, had come back downhill to us. He said something to me, and while I forget what his exact words were, I remember the intense urge to get off my bike, and throw it at him. I would have too, but I did not want to hurt LT and then walk back. Still we made it to the top. I wanted to die. But we made it. I had successfully completed a hill, next step a huge mountain. I mean how hard could that be?
Thus, I declare my training for Mont Ventoux complete. I mean Leo stated that all of us should be able to make it up it all right. And really I don't think he would lie to us. Would he?
Yours in lie-detection,
@damookman
P.S. Hi Leo, please don't punch me the next time you see me.
Right, so on this day I took a train to St. Catharines, Ontario. I call this train training. "But, you beautiful hunk of blogger-dom, why are you training to take a train. Surely you have lots of experience in this matter after having taken first class trains to Ottawa." Yes, my lovely porpoises, I am in fact well versed in trains, but one must train to be stay in peak physical form when trains are involved. They are not called the "Foxes of the rails" for no reason.
Hmm? What's that? Are they not called that? Well they bloody well should be.
Anyways, contrary to the past, this time I was not travelling alone. I was accompanied by my lovely companion, LT. LT is my beautiful bike, short for Lime Trek. Little did we know, that the prince of lies, Leo the retiree, would make me regret putting my sweaty bottom on LT's top tube.
Hmm, is anyone else aroused right now after reading that last part? Keep reading to avoid the embarrassing silence.
Leo is by far the strongest cyclist I know. He has shamelessly been embarrassing people younger than him for quite some time now. He is also the person who spearheaded the Mont Ventoux climb. Leo, fully kitted out in his LOOK at ME gear, started the 60 km ride from his mansion summer home in St. C. A query about the ride description warranted the answer "we are doing all the hills"from him. This is generally never a good sign.
On a sweltering day KT and Leo took the lead, while MT and I bravely made sure that no one got dropped and/or got attacked by Polar Bears who like to attack when a person's back is turned.
We hit the first hill which was steep, but not too bad. With us, just out of breath, Leo, cheerfully piped up "it's all downhill from here." He added looking at my cheerful and hopeful countenance "till we hit the next uphill". This was delivered with the best timing possible, and had the desired effect of destroying a tiny part of my soul. Current theories are that he derives his power from breaking mortals.
We rode on happily as a bunch, at a jaunty pace, and before you know it, we arrived. Effingham Hill. Also called by the locals as F-ing Hill. Leo, looked back at his cherished daughter, and then proceeded to accelerate up the hill with a blatant disregard for the laws of physics leaving her vulnerable to Bear Attacks. Thankfully, MT and I were still in the back ever vigilant for polar bear attacks. If you think about it, we are the real heroes in this case.
As we were constantly looking behind us for the killers of the
We were not going very fast mind you and for 85% of the hill, we were doing fine. I saw a white helmetted head peer over a distant crest, to check up on our well being. I was reassured that the end was near. And then it got hard. Really hard. My heart rate went to zero as my heart exploded and I realised that the end was indeed near. My End. And this is not a joke about my bottom.
It was at this point in time I noticed, that Leo, had come back downhill to us. He said something to me, and while I forget what his exact words were, I remember the intense urge to get off my bike, and throw it at him. I would have too, but I did not want to hurt LT and then walk back. Still we made it to the top. I wanted to die. But we made it. I had successfully completed a hill, next step a huge mountain. I mean how hard could that be?
Thus, I declare my training for Mont Ventoux complete. I mean Leo stated that all of us should be able to make it up it all right. And really I don't think he would lie to us. Would he?
Yours in lie-detection,
@damookman
P.S. Hi Leo, please don't punch me the next time you see me.
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