A blank saturday morning is always going to get filled with a small bunch ride along the beach with a few friends. Up early, I met Bellie and we rolled out with a huge bunch for the morning. I'd guess over 150 riders, some may disagree but not many, it was big and ugly. The po-lice showed up late again and scared the hell out of the bunch by barreling in with sirens somewhere down near Carrum but everyone was well behaved at any rate. Lots of 'new' riders made for anything more than halfway down the bunch, being a very dicey option. But we all made it to Frankston intact, and got caught at the lights. 150 cyclists sitting at a traffic light, who have to sort themselves out for a tough little climb on a narrow side street in less than a kilometer - awesome. Anyway, Bellie and I rode 2nd and 3rd wheel over the climb, at 201bpm, which tickled a little... And then it was on.
Around we all went, safely as ever, and back up the highway for Mordy and on the Black Rock. Along the highway, I started to get the frighteners. A red light run but 2/3rd of the bunch was the start, with a nice solid chase, but once we caught back, the mood of the bunch had gotten far more nervous.
Joel and I worked out once, after a few experiences, that if it feels wrong, it generally is. So much so that unless you are committed enough to fight for the first 10-15 wheels tooth and nail, you're in the wrong game. Thats the same conclusion I came to yesterday, and I decided to pull the pin at Mordy than risk the bullshit that was going on in the bunch. Poor poor bunch riding skills, people waaaay outside their limits, and me lacking the necessary fire to relentlessly stay at the front. As I've always said, if you aren't prepared to work, get the hell out of the way!
And I did, and rode home all on my lonesome, but with skin intact. The ride is, and always will be fun, but if you aren't prepared to commit as much as the riders surrounding you, get out of the way I say, and that I did.
Also, I went to Chadstone yesterday. They said there would be fashion there. They were wrong. All I saw is AWFUL hair cuts, clothes that I threw out in 1991 (and I'd been holding on to them!!)
more fluro and tight stone washed denim shorts than I ever thought I'd have the misfortune to see again and a bloke walking through wearing skins and a t-shirt. Thats it....! Forget that shit!!!
Fluro is over people, over I tell you. That means you too grover, don't think I've forgotten about those sunglasses..!