All My Matches

I inadvertently burned all the matches in the book of my daily allotment on Sunday's group ride, unfortunately I was as far away from home as the ride was to take me when it happened... Sometimes the group dynamic fairly bristles with macho-psychotic energy and by gaw, last Sunday, those guys were nuts! We were heading out Quartz Hill Rd at a good clip after a horrible-rude-awakening-climb from Benton Dr. up River Park Dr. At the top, I got on the back of an eight man line and stayed nicely out of the wind going out Quartz Hill. Fueled by a group of people at the Hornbeck Trail parking lot who yelled out something about vive le tour, the pace went ballistic through a narrow twisty section, so I let them go at it. I figured we'd regroup up at the Lake Blvd. intersection. But as I approached the turn, I saw those fools hammering on without us. Allen Kost was with me and he yelled to me to get on his wheel and tuck in. But then my own inner macho-psychotic ego kicked in and I felt like Allen was riding too slow. (Mind you, Allen is a man who regularly logs 300miles a week on a $5,000.00 bike!) I exploded away from Allen like I was on a motor bike, fiercely determined to catch that pace line. I was making up the gap very rapidly when I suddenly realized that the Odwalla Bar had eaten just prior to the launch was turning my mouth into a cotton candy paste of horror (chocolate/mocha). I felt as if I had ridden the last 400 meters without breathing as I finally, caught the back wheel of the pace line at the Pine Grove Ave. intersection. Blown, I simply could not regain my composure and could only watch in desperation as Allen calmly joined us and then they began to ease away from me. Like a ship steaming off into the sunset, I watched the pace line disappear over the horizon. Blowing like a bellows my lungs on fire! I'll be back next week!