Skinning out my buck from last week’s trip to Oregon.
Exceller Bikes, Brugge
Today’s ride was an authentique Belgium HTFU ride. There was wind. A lot of it. Block headwind, crosswind, push you into the gutter type wind. Rain. Horizontal rain. Narrow, farm roads. Pave. More pave. Cow shitte and mud-covered roads. We were wet. Road wrong direction for a bit.
But yet, getting blown around and pissed on with a shit-eating grin, thinking, I’m in fucking Belgium and riding a bike.
Geographical and astronomical illustrations from the mid-1800s
by John Philipps Emslie
(several via the Wellcome Collection)
Part of me desperately wants this and to play Brother Esau so loud my neighbors protest while I sell veggie wraps in my driveway to the protestors. The rational part of me is shaking its’ head in disgust and ironing khaki pants for tomorrow’s important business man of widget and mushroom factory meetings. “Shitake prices are up! We must widgetize!”
"Shitcake prices…" Oh wait.