R15 25 Why, Yes, I Like it Dirty.

Present Day Announcement: Happy Christmas Eve little beavers! I know that all of you have been naughty this year, but still, I hope Castor Claus brings you fresh tubes and cheap beer tonight. Mwah! 

The last 3rd of the day

Even though JK had made a generous offer of a party in Quimby, we decided we needed to keep rolling. We still had a long, long way to go and it was getting late in the day. 

So we rolled through that town and headed onward. There was a lot of climbing on this Sunday, but it wasn't terrible, though it was incredibly hot and humid. Everything was just dripping and disgusting. I was so thirsty, so when I saw a sign for some pork chops, a beer tent, and lemonade, I had to stop. 

Thankfully, the Mayor saw me and stopped too. But, this wasn't the Backpocket stop...it was some other beer, pork chop, lemonade stop. Well, shit. It didn't matter. I needed some refreshment, so after filling our water bottles at a hose, I got in line. 

The guys running the lemonade stand were offering regular lemonade and dirty lemonade. When the guy at the counter asked if I wanted my lemonade dirty, I had just enough energy to give him a wry look and saying, "I'd love it dirty." He laughed. I laughed. And I thought about how erotically charged this ragby was becoming.

The Mayor and I leaned on a flatbed trailer in some deep deep shade and listened as a couple 20-something hipsters talked about how to ragby. Hmrph. 

The rest of the team didn't stop, and soon we realized, we were out of sync, so we got back on our bikes and pressed onward. The next oasis had a huge water slide in the ditch, and I saw Pochy and Too Much in the middle of their second or third run down the slide. I kept riding, knowing they'd catch us at the real beer stop. 

And that is where the afternoon, and all the sexual tension, really began to ramp up.