Well I hope that everyone had a great (and safe) holiday weekend. But now it's over and we can assess the damage. Here in the Fort some friends and I hatched big plans to ride bikes up to Vedauwoo, Wyoming, camp the night away and ride back on Monday. Well it didn't really go down like that. We met at Fort Collin's newest (and super delicious) breakfast joint, Snooze at 7:30am the morning of the forth. The night before someone in our group sent out a text asking if anyone had looked at the weather, none of us had. Meeting in the morning we decided to check it (the weather) out on one of those handy-dandy smart phones; the forecast was bleak. Severe thunderstorms, damaging winds, and hail were all part of the possibilities of the Wyoming day. During breakfast we were discussing all these possibilities and came to the conclusion that riding all day on dirt roads in the rain to sit in the mud during a gigantic thunderstorm was not the best plan. We bagged it, it was kind of sad, the three of us with loaded bikes and full stomachs, standing on a street corner in the rain, the sight was pathetic indeed. We then decided that we had to ride a little, so we looped through town then jumped on the bike path and sat on the first bench to question our decision:
After a few minnutes of raucous debate (you can see that from the photo) we decided that the right move had been launched. Now we were all going to head home, ditch our gear, and then meet back at my house for refreshments and plan making for the day's party (of all the days to bag a bike ride this was a good one (lots of things to do)).
They showed up at O'Bussmann Acres (my house) and we made some breakfast (second breakfast):
Let me tell you how this goes. Take that Blue Paddle (it also tastes great with Sunshine Wheat, Trippel, Hagdorn's Helles etc...) pour it into a pint glass (should fit almost perfect), take one healthy slug from the glass, dropping the beer level down inch or so from the lip of the glass, then, with your favorite OJ (I like Simply Orange), top off the glass. And boom! everyone has the brain food required to completely revise a day's plan.
And that is what we did my friends, we revised. The new plan was go to a block party we knew of, race cruisers, eat bar-b-que. Then, when the fun was exhausted there, head over to a different party, play washers (or Missouri Horse-shoes (if you prefer)), eat more bar-b-que then watch the fireworks from somewhere (destination unknown).
The first part went off without a hitch. The racing was great, the Helles was on tap, and everyone had a great time. It wasn't raining then so there wasn't that much carnage in the crit and smiles were abound. The burgers and sides were great and soon after the meal we took off, group intact, fearing the ribs would be gone by the time we reached house party two (a pajama-jammy-jam?). The ribs were not done (smoking) but the washers were fun. A lot of people were not from Missouri so the competition was not that huge. Most folks were standing on the sidewalk drinking and talking about the impending weather, trying to remember if they brought rain jackets. Then the rain started to fall and shelter was run for, it was bedlam. People running everywhere, beer cans flying, shouting, and stepping over the less fortunate. The group found a leaky EZ-UP to stand under and there was some reminiscing about breakfast and some discussion regarding the bagging of the ride decision (It was the right one, but we still were a little sad about it). We then tried to poke holes in the sides of unopened beer cans with nothing but our thumbs, it is really hard to do.
After sitting under a tarp for an hour or so I decided to brave the weather alone and find a place where the ribs were done and ready to eat, and this is when the groups wheels came off. We all split directions. I maybe shouldn't have left, the professor maybe shouldn't have continued to stand in the rain, and Radke, well Radke didn't make any mistakes. We had full group severing and soloing through the bad weather and slippery train tracks I found myself at my front door, missing my backpack, hungry, and somehow in possession of someone's season pass to Elitch Gardens (it has since been returned).
The fireworks woke me up at about 10pm or so, but going outside to see them was not in the cards. I ended the forth of July falling asleep on the couch watching Footloose, glad to not be sleeping outside in the thunderstoms of the Wyoming wild, with a tired smile smeared across my face. It was a day to remember.