Another Saw Such Ride

The Sausage Ride, I keep coming back to this little 66 miles of torture.  I'm never prepared, I always think it will be easy, and I'm usually wrong.  It was supposed to be a recovery week for me, low hours, nothing real hard.  I had even thought about going to the XC race on Sunday in Gainesville. 

That was until Silk called a MTB ride out of Tom Brown for Saturday morning.  I just couldn't resist, so against my better judgment, I loaded up and headed out into a beautiful morning.  3.5 hours later I was back in my truck, having abandoned all racing plans.  I figured I'd take The Kid to the Sausage Ride the next day.  "We'll roll easy and short" I promised while talking him into going.  I figured there'd be somebody wanting to go easy since we'd just done a big day.  Wrong.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

The Kid hasn't done much cycling lately due to school obligations and such so I didn't really want to drag him all over south Georgia.  It had been a while since we'd ridden together and I was looking forward to him going.  I swear I knew where we should cut across to shorten the route.  And the folks that would want to go easy?  They stayed at home.

Anyhoo, at about 1:45, into what I had promised would be a 2 hour ride, we still hadn't made the turn to go back.  The Kid had figured out I had messed up.  The ride had started out harder than usual so it was just the two of us left to navigate the country side.  We did manage to run into the pack after they made the turn in Boston but they soon dropped us again.  We picked up an older (than me, can you believe it?) gentleman who was tired of riding alone and I pulled the three of us back to Bradley's.  4:30 after we had started that morning.

The Kid had only had one slight meltdown when he thought I was lost (again).  He had only packed food for the advertised 2 hour ride and was starving when we got back.  Other than that he was in a pretty good mood, considering. 

Most of the ride had already packed up and left when we got back.  Silk, Paul, and Dirt Hippie were there waiting for us.  It felt like Deja Vue all over again.  We crowded into the little country store and raided the shelves for junk food.  I had the obligatory sausage dog, chips, and a huge Dr. Pepper while The Kid loaded up on cookies, chips, and a Nehi.

Sitting on the picnic bench outside while the cool wind blew the moss in the live oaks the long ride started to feel better.  The Kid even smiled, and somehow, in that brief reaction, the day was all worth it.