Missing in Action

OK. So I haven't written anything. You're wondering why.



Pushed for the truth, here's the best reason I can dig up: Because I forgot I started this blog. How's that?



I didn't ride much over the winter, but I am in full swing for this season. My goal is 600 miles this summer. I will likely fall short of that, but I will give it a kick and see how far I can go.



You may hear from me soon. Or I may wait another 12 months to post. Since I am writing to myself, who really fucking cares?

You're an asshole

I passed you this morning on the Ghost Town Trail. I said "Hello." You just kept pedaling. I took your picture -- that's you in the distance -- just so I could post it here.

So, fuck you.

Hoodlebug Trail pics

Here's some shots I took on the Hoodlebug Trail, on a ride from from IUP to Coral.

Why am I doing this?

I guess this is a test. It's the sound of one hand clapping, to see if anyone is around.

I figured I would write about some of my experiences while biking. Mostly good; some bad. I've only been biking for about a year and a half, but I've been writing since I could hold a pencil. According to my brother, that would be since the 10th grade.

When my mother in-law bought me a digital camera to take on my biking trips, I figured the pictures wouldn't be any good unless I had someone to look at them. And other than my wife, who prefers photos to words? So I figured I better write something.

Welcome to my blog.

Why do I ride? Well, it started out for the health of it. My doctor said I had to do something or else I'd be in trouble. Problem was, all those years of watching basketball from the bench in high school really took a toll on my knees. So biking became my thing. Having a Cannondale in the basement gathering rust made the choice easy for me. But since I started riding along the nearby rails-to-trails system, I have become addicted to my short journeys across the county.

Oh, that health thing. I was diagnosed as a type-2 diabetic. I got the sugar. My blood-sugar numbers weren't that bad, but I've got a family history of this crap, so my doctor said I better get things under control. My father was a type-1 diabetic, and he would have died from it, if Route 948 hadn't been so icy that morning in 1980.

Why do I write? Because I can. Well, some people say I am a shitty writer. That's fine. They're shitty people.

So this is my blog. Welcome to my world. I hope you enjoy the stay.

On the Ghost Town Trail

I set my personal best today. I pedaled for 19.399 miles. I know you don't care. But, hey, it means something to me.

I went from Dilltown, home of the Dillweed (not Dillhole) Bed and Breakfast all the way to the fascinating borough of Twin Rocks. Somewhere in there, I crossed the county line.

Tired? Yeah a bit.

Here's some shots from the trip. Forgive my lack of photographic skill.