I’m back from beautiful Wisconsin, where I rode a bike everyday on rural highway roads with wonderful riders and awesome car commuters who gave you wide berth. It would get hot – around 90 degrees in the day but with no humidity, and cool at night. Cool enough to smoke a cigar every night around a bonfire, drinking Skip-N-Go-Naked’s well into the morning hours. There was even a canoe trip (which kicked my ass – cycling does not help the rowing muscles).
I had some troubles though. First off, Google Maps licks my balls. There, I’ve said it. It gave us crummy directions both ways. We got off track about an hour this morning thanks to its terrible directions. Google, please, fix this, yeah? I figure you owe me about 10 – 15 bucks gas money for all the extra driving I did.
Secondly, I am now humidity intolerant. Christian ran out and picked up Quincy for us at the awesome kennel we left him at. As I was standing outside talking to him, I was sweating profusely within a minute and getting a headache within two minutes. That blows. I have to re-acclimate myself.
Thirdly, to the impatient couple who rode my ass for about twenty miles outside of Ames (Iowa), let me give you a road lesson. When one big ass truck is trying to pass another big ass truck, it takes some time, because they are hauling a heavy load. The best thing you can do is wait patiently in the fast lane for the passing truck to move through. This will actually save you gas because you will be drafting behind the truck (the truck is eliminating the wind resistance). I don’t know why you thought to laugh at me with your fat fucking faces when I passed both trucks and then got into the slow lane so you could pass me. I thought I was being courteous. I only hope the ambulance gets there a minute too late when you have your heart attack next year.
Finally, Des Moines? What the… why? I-680. Eight lanes of available throughput. Why do the slowest cars drive in the fast lane, and the middle lanes are the fastest? Why do none of your citizens know how to drive? I know that you make fun of Omaha for some reason (because the in-laws tell me about it all the time), but we’ve got less lanes, more construction, and no traffic mental retardation. Sorry, you suck. Iowa, don’t feel bad, because you are much prettier than Nebraska and have lots of great things going for you, but Des Moines rides the short bus.
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