#Thanksgiving: Getting The Bird on the Bike

Happy F'n Thanksgiving

The email from our VP read, “To help get you on your way for Thanksgiving, we’re closing the shop at 2pm on Wednesday.”  With a building full of the nerdy music weirdoes you made fun of in college, sometimes it’s hard to think of a radio station as a business, let alone a shop.  However, if you’re the creative weirdo making commercials for a 4-day Black Friday weekend on a three day work week at one of the most popular stations in town, yeah, it’s sort of like an assembly line.  Hit record, read copy, add holiday music, sprinkle with magic festive fairy dust…repeat.  The magic fairy dust is the hard part.  I was home, changed and on my bike by 3 o’clock.  My wife was out picking up “the bird.” 

In our vegan case, I’m not really sure what “the bird” is, but there are six drumsticks, …err…breasts, …hmm, …yummy looking lumpy brown things in our fridge.  They came with the Whole Foods vegan Thanksgiving dinner which also includes gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beaners and a whole apple pie.  Heat and serve.  This is our first Thanksgiving without a real turkey.  I’m not going to miss it.  I only wish Whole Foods gave us enough for leftovers.

Gardein...It's vegan for Turkey.

With temps in the 50’s and party sunny skies, I headed out to do some 30-on 30-off intervals on a hilly local route we call the Amsterdam loop.  I wasn’t about to waste a rare sunny workday afternoon in November banging out relentless intervals on a single hill.  I opted to get the work in on each of the 5 hills I’d hit on the two hour loop, recover and enjoy the descents into the Ohio River Valley.    

I was having a blast.  Traffic was light.  I knew anyone on the road was in a tizzy to get to grandma’s house, so I was being extra courteous.  I made a conscious decision not to ride up the gutter at stoplights and instead let all the cars go ahead when it changed.  I waved cars through intersections first, intent on keeping my good groove going.  On the third downhill I got my Thanksgiving bird.

A line of 4-5 cars were coming up as I was going down.  With a few twists on the blind hill, it was a double yellow.  Zip!  A black car darted out of line and hit the gas to pass headed right at me.  My fingers moved to the brakes, but seeing me, he slipped back in line just as quick.  What the hell was he thinking?  It’s a double yellow on a hill! As I passed, his bird caught my eye.  He mashed it up against the driver’s door window for the extra F-U effect.  I returned the gesture, shaking mine to match his fervor and added a smile.  Happy Thanksgiving mother effer.

So today, I give thanks for health, a wonderful wife who understands there's more time to ride if you order a pre-made dinner, blue skies, gardein and gravy, warm November afternoons and the douche bags that make it easy to write a cycling blog. 

I Know Cyclists Can’t Be Serial Killers, So Yes We Will Stay For Dinner

“Yes, we will stay for dinner.” That should be your response any and every time one of your riding buddies invites you to come to their place for dinner after a ride, especially if the ride ends in front of their house. That is also the answer you should expect if you extend such an invitation. Of course you should offer to chop veggies, set the table, and pour water. You do not need to take a shower, but washing your face and hands might be a nice gesture. If they offer up the shower, I’ll let you draw that line. Eating at a friend’s house and being naked in a friend’s house are miles apart as far as a judgment call goes. So, maybe just take a hit of the deodorant you keep in your bag. You should never turn a post-ride dinner invitation down.

There is nothing going on in your life after a bike ride that’ll be better than having dinner with friends. Nada. Sex? Yeah right. Name one time you had sex when you got home after a ride. I’ve been riding bikes for like 15 years and never once got laid after I got home from a ride. After a ride all you want is food, a chair and a comfy pair of pants. Guess what? That’s exactly what a post-ride dinner invite is all about. Well, maybe not the pants. Last night they popped the question. My wife and I got the invite from people we rode with. My wife was reluctant. Me? I already slipped my pants over my chamois, locked my bike on the roof rack and dug a ball cap out of my bag. “We have a lot of food at home. Why don’t we just head home?” She reasoned. “Honey, they saw me lock the bike to the car. I think at this point they’re expecting us.” I tossed back. Maybe it’s something catholically polite engrained in our brains from living in Wisconsin, but for some reason we have a hard time accepting impromptu invitations. It’s almost like we feel that others shouldn’t go through trouble for us. Seriously, where’s the trouble in dinner. Its two extra plates, glasses and napkins. At the most, they won’t have leftovers for lunch the following day. For us, what was at home that was better than good conversation with friends, a chance to see their kitchen renovation progress, a big salad and a giant bowl of pesto pasta with veggies and faux-chicken? As funny as Cougar Town, Glee and Modern Family are, we do have a DVR. Or, maybe this is precisely the reason I’ve never had sex after a ride. Nawwww. I doubt it.

Sure, there are some weird people that ride bikes. What if “that guy” invites you over? You should do it. Yes. Maybe it’s your chance to get past the lazy eye and the purple helmet cover. You’re a cyclist. You’re adventurous. You’ve probably ridden down a dead end road or taken a goat path trail just to see where it goes. So, just think of a post-ride dinner invite like an unknown trail or road. I have yet to be disappointed by following either of those routes on a road or mountain bike ride. Bet you that odd bird is a great cook. Bet you their dog will love you. Ten bucks says there are chocolate chip cookies and the Tour of Flanders saved on the DVR. Your not thinking the worst could happen are you? Really? C’mon. Cyclists can’t be lunatic serial killers. If you ride bikes and have even a semblance of a regular professional occupation, between sleeping, eating, training and bike maintenance there is no time left in the day for successful secret evil real-life SAW 4 type horror movie plotting. Trust me, if you accept a dinner invitation from a cycling buddy, your feet, still in your Sidis, will not end up washing ashore on a beach in Vancouver.