I'm excited because one of my friends is passing through town again and FINALLY I'm able to ride with him. You see, I, too, used to be a Berman. You might recognize my Bermanese from magazine covers such as 2011 Bicycle Paper Northwest Race Guide. (Hee hee, snort snort *blush *blush)
|Pulling that Clip Art Floppy|
But then my Berman started to create chaos by re-routing the tempo down a 15-mile dirt road. I got to the dirt road and immediately put on my brakes when I saw a sign that said "Pavement Ends Ahead" and then "No Pavement for 50 miles." I said calmly, "Amelia doesn't ride on dirt. She's a lady."
But the Berman didn't want to hear this and began his escape.
And, of course, I will not be left out, so Amelia Roadhart and I sucked it up and began the trek. At first I was a bit overcautious as I had never ridden a road bike on gravel and bumps for so long. And during the first couple passes over the ruts and rumble strips, I swooned and said to Amelia, "Lawdy child! I do believe I have a spell of whiplash!" but not really--just a little drama practice.
But then we got the swing of it and I let go of the brakes, took pressure off the handlebars and followed the snaking tire track of the Berman ahead of me. After a few miles, we were flying, and Amelia Roadhart became Amelia "Dirt"hart for the day, and I had visions of me showing up to a cyclocross race or the X-Games on my Amira--because I'm sure they're all JUST LIKE THIS ROAD. I was in the zone. Bunny hopping and gaining a mad 3cm AT LEAST. I was very proud of my steed and my wheels and tires for taking the abuse. Not once did I think I was going to fall or worry about popping my tires. Thinking about falling=falling.
I guess you could say I was in the zone, until I pulled up to this carnage. Berman Down! Berman Down!
|Hands on the Hips and Pop|
One deserving steak with Christy and Berman. See video below.