This unforecasted trip home has allowed me to cram in a visit to the dentist. After the initial check up – which included a thorough thrashing of my mouth – I was told that I should have my only wisdom tooth extracted. Not one to be called a sissy, I thought that this down time would be an optimal time for a bit of oral surgery. Additionally, the previous day I had my first cavity drilled to elimination right out of my head. Upon learning about all this – in addition to my fractured shoulder – a former coach called me a Glutton for Pain. Ha, good term. Here I am icing my face a few hours after surgery. I should have followed the dentist’s advice a bit closer about eating; I imprinted my remaining teeth into the then-numbed left side of my tongue, only to feel the ill effects of a scarred tongue for the next week and a half. Ow.
After an excellent trip to Maine for the night to see some very important people, I came home Saturday to temperatures in the low 60s. At this point I was 4 days shy of the official doctor’s clearance to ride outside, but I’ve suffered the mind numbing boredom of the trainer for so long and couldn’t pass up this weather. Plus if these guys were going out for a ride, I certainly wasn’t going to miss out.
So I had my first successful day outside, followed by another glorious one the next day. The weather, terrain, pace, and feelings out on the bike were great! My only complaint is that the roads in New England are absolutely destroyed with pot holes right now. Frost heaves tend to ravage roads, but this year’s weather blows past winters’ damage on roads right out of the water. I literally never had more than about 30 seconds of care-free riding; otherwise, I have to pick a very strategic path around the roads craters like Indiana Jones negotiating some elaborate escape route. It’s a miracle I wasn’t consumed in one of these holes, never to be seen again. Seriously though, it’s miserable. If you don’t believe me, go break your arm, and then ride these crappy roads this time of year well before your bones are fused together. It’s bone jarringly terrible. Another anecdote of how bad they are, Ryan mentioned that he’d seen a Hyundai swallowed hole by a particularly large pot hole somewhere in the NH seacoast area. Believe it.
I hosted a very successful surprise party with another Ryan on March 5th. That was Robbie’s birthday and two days after Melissa’s birthday so a two-for-one dealie. Here’s a particularly awesome picture I took with a particularly awesome cake that I just may have baked.
And just to be sure you’re completely up to date, I made it to Arizona today after a lengthy day of travel. I had a 7am flight out of Manchester, NH. At 5:30 when we departed for the airport, I witnessed the first snowflake fall. An hour-and-a-half later, our plane couldn’t budge because of white out conditions and an absurdly slippery runway. Here’s a very artful shot from my seat on the plane after an hour long nap. We hadn’t moved.
What blows my mind is how quickly the airlines are to apologize for the weather and how they’ll suddenly drop everything in order to get you happily on your way. As we sat on the tarmac, they immediately started serving beverages, unlimited free snacks, and were constantly on the PA system announcing the status. Finally as 9:30am rolled around, we were able to take off. Opon landing, they were quick to get everyone to the correct gates with new boarding passes. What I don’t understand is why they’re apologetic for something they can’t control, but everything else about flying is miserable. We’re herded around like cattle without a rhyme or reason, fed cardboard food, have no say whatsoever in the flights, are treated like crap… until an act of nature suddenly gives the airlines a heart. I just don’t get it.