The Beer: I swear, as God is my witness, I bottle the Belgian tomorrow. Really. Because I got the ingredients for an IPA today and that has to get brewed.
The Bicycle: My trusty steed performed well for 40 miles this afternoon. I needed it. Tough week. EPA. Need I say more?
Apparently, cyclists are expendable in these here parts. An elite triathelete was killed by a drunk driver here a couple weeks ago. Today, the driver went free on bond. How is that just? I had four, count 'em four very close calls today. I had an semi pass me on Green Bay road, so close that I could reach out and touch the tires. I was sure I would end up under them. As I approached 5 Corners, a young girl (15-or-so) would have stepped out in front of me had I not yelled. IPod. If I'd been a car, she'd be dead. A guy leaving the golf course pulled out in front of me. He looked at me as if it was my fault. Hello...if I was a car, you'd be dead, too. Got to Port, went up the hill to the park, called the Missus and started back down. At the bottom of the hill, a young blonde (again, maybe she's has her license for a year-or-so) never looks and pulls out in front of me. I chased her down and let her know it was a bad idea. The remaining 18 miles were pretty uneventful. And good thing. I don't think the Missus is all that excited about me riding right now.
I have it on good authority that Cadel Evans will take the Mailliot Jaune from Carlos Sastre in the time trial tomorrow.
The VRWC: This is Priceless. Clearly the Brits have figured out the Emperor has no clothes. Will we?
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