The Daily Grind

By Rob Manning

Peace and Quiet

Through the end of July and into the first weeks of August, the east coast was struck by a brutal heat wave. As the sun peaked in the sky, so did temperatures; let’s put it this way, it was freakin’ HOT, and you could cut the air with a fork. I never went out and measured, but I’d guess the pavement was hot enough to fry breakfast. And thinking about breakfast led me to a fix for my lack of riding.

It’s well known among the staff here at MBT that I’m the resident “spandex geek,” “skinny tire dork” or any of a number of other slurs. That’s fine by me though, since all those miles on asphalt add up to kicking the asses of most of the trails I ride. But with the massive heat and humidity, it’s decidedly difficult to get out on the road and not suffer from some heat related illness. The trainer is just an awful thought, especially when one can look out the window next to the TV and see that it’s bright, sunny, and certainly warm enough to ride outdoors (or in this case, too warm).

One morning, when I arose early because of the intense morning sunshine streaming through the windows, I looked at the thermometer outside my window while making breakfast. It was a whole lot cooler at that hour than during my normal riding times of early to late afternoon. I decided to set the alarm for an early hour the next morning to get a ride in and see how it was.

I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised.

Stepping out the door at 5:30 and taking a breath of refreshingly cool air was invigorating. I didn’t have to spoon in thick, almost soupy humid air at this hour. Clipping into the pedals and settling into a nice even cadence allowed me to actually check out my surroundings without focusing on keeping myself cool and under control. The steam rising off the lake gave a surreal quality to the empty roads in front of me. There were no cars, no people, and no sounds to cut through the quiet morning air except the hum of tires on asphalt and the buzzing of my freehub. My heart rate monitor beeped quietly to remind me to keep myself in check and brought me back to reality.

After about half an hour or so, I returned to my front door. Short as it may have been, it was a great way to start the day, and it opened my eyes to the beauty of things when you’re not dying of the heat or dodging people, dogs and cars; a breakfast for the biker’s soul, so to speak.