Energy Level Zero

I’m either sick or exhausted, not sure which. I feel all right, but there is absolutely nothing going on in my muscles. Had an aggressive but not crazy physical weekend. Saturday we all went out to the bike path behind Schenectady County Community College (hey! Second Chance! Howzabout a port-o-let? Would it kill ya?) and rode out to Lock 8 and a bit beyond. Bek’s first big ride since her arm was in a cast, and she did just fine. These girls grow so fast, their seatposts can’t keep up with them. I bought them good bikes last year, and they’ll need new ones next year. Hannah and I rode across the bridge to Jumpin’ Jack’s, the more-popular-than-ever drive-in restaurant at the foot of the Western Gateway Bridge. That’s one little corner of the world where very little has changed in fifty years (including the pavement on Schonowe Avenue). Other than the expansion of Freedom Park (it was a Bicentennial thing, you wouldn’t understand) and an official boat landing therein, it’s all the same as when I was growing up: Jack’s, the Little League stadium, tennis courts (though they were full on Saturday – is there some tennis craze going on?), the little Scotia library.

Man, am I off-topic. So, did about 13k with Lee and the girls, and then they drove home and I biked home, another 55k over some of the worst pavement on earth. I mostly avoided the bike path because it’s in perfectly awful shape and full of dogs on leashes, but that avoidance took me along Boght Road in Cohoes, where appears to have been paved by accident, with giant asphalt droppings falling from the sky. It’s a mess, and a downhill mess at that. I was happy to get to the bottom of it with my teeth intact. Then I had to use the Albany bike path because Route 32 is still a torn-up ugly mess, but I regretted it as every broken stretch of pavement sent a jarring pain to my neck. I thought they were supposed to repave that thing (and widen it) this year, but I haven’t seen any sign of work since spring, when there was some surveying going on.

Then, Sunday, back to Jack’s and the new Scotia Landing, where we canoed around Isle of the Oneidas to avoid the waterskiing team and then slipped up the channel I grew up on (in). There was a nasty algae bloom in progress, which apparently is happening all over, and we didn’t see any turtles, but we chased some herons, kingfishers and a pileated woodpecker, and overhead (WAY overhead) was an eagle. Beautiful day, long portage from the parking lot to the landing. Then we ended the day with the family party for Rebekah’s 8th. By the time it was all over, we barely had the energy to watch Lance win the TdF.

So, as I said, I’m either exhausted or something’s actually wrong with me, ’cause I barely got through yesterday, caffeine isn’t helping, and last night I was dead by 10:00 again.

Speaking of the TdF (though not for the last time), if you want to see whether a bike rider’s devotion to his dear departed dog can bring tears to your eyes, read Tyler Hamilton’s tribute to Tugboat. (C’mon on now, you didn’t cry when Old Yeller died?)