Brewery 100 4.0ish: My 200th Blog!

Welcome to my 200th Edition of Half the Rice.  

Fitting that it should be a ride-report for the longest, drunkest, sh!t-showiest ride of the year: 

the Brewery 100 version 4.0-ish.  

You can read about Brewery 100 1.0 the Steven-birthday edition here.  And, the my first Brewery 100 here.  And, the 3.0 here, when we had our biggest showing ever: four riders and 8 breweries.  But, today, we'll focus on 4.0.  

After last year's, record 8 breweries we decided to scale things back.  No Left Hand.  No Fort Collins, but adding in Grimm Brothers, which is weird and good.  

I flew in on the 3rd and hung with with family and Masinga who graciously drove my bike to Colorado on the 4th.  It was a day full of splash pads, naps, and beer of course.  Then, I headed off to bed to be ready for the next day.  

I got up early, threw on my clothes, and started my coffee, so I could get a bit of food and caffeine in me before we hit the road at 530-ish.  I commented on the cloudiness.  The Mayor said it wasn't cloudy it was my sunglasses.  I retorted that I wasn't wearing sunglasses.  Then, we rode to Niwot which is secretly uphill and always makes me think I am not going to be able to do this ride even in the first 1.5 miles.  Then, it goes blissfully downhill.  

Before, so happy!

Someday, I always think as we ride through the quaint streets of Niwot, I will return and check out this adorable town.  But, I never make it past the two Oskar Blue's establishments that are within crawling distance from the Steven/Mayoral Homestead.  

The Mayor and I ride pretty well together.  We ride at about the same pace, though I ride slightly faster with him than when I am alone.  And, we chat.  The Mayor spends a lot of time on the internet, so he knows a lot of stuff and is a charming conversationalist on a bike, which requires a lot of subjects and fluidity of subjects.  

Then, we rode past a snake on the side of the road, and I tried to kill the Mayor.  

Then, we rode past a deer hanging outside of Hygiene.  

Then, we rode through Hygiene through a flock of peacocks.  

Then, we rode past the house with the towers on the top of the hill, and past "regroup" farm, and past "regroup" base of the hill.  

As always, when the offered the choice between one road toward Rabbit mountain and the other road that goes towards Berthoud, and then we are always distressed by the smallness of the shoulder and the fastness of the traffic, and I am always excited about the llamas.  

And, we road into Loveland and stopped at the Walgreens for a snack, where we pondered the voice of the blind-assistance crosswalk and had a snack and sent our whereabouts to Steven so she could estimate our half-way beer (a new edition!).  

Walgreens!  Still happy.

Then, we rode through Loveland and over the hump of open land into the sprawl of Fort Collins.  We stopped at a new gas station.  It seemed a bit forgotten and lonely, but it smelled like freshly baked muffins.  The Mayor ate an ice cream bar as is his way, and I ate a Snickers and some coconut water--the mayor made fun of me for drinking coconut water.  The Latino kid at the counter said he wanted to get into cycling, so I tried to sell him the Mayor's bike, but the deal didn't go through.  Next time.  

Then, we road through Fort Collins, and through NoFoCo, to the glorious stretch north of the city.  You have to climb a bit of a hill, but the payoff is a beautiful decent to a lake, then past a farm with a truck full of skulls out front.  Awesome.  

Mile 50 is just a bit after we turn back south again.  So, when we got there-ish (our computers were slightly different) we called Steven to find out how close she was and if the half-way beer was Blue Moon (Steven gets beer as part of her payment for tutoring, but the beer is Miller-Coors products, but despite the free-ness, I still don't love to get down with Blue Moon).  Steven was still a bit out and it was Blue Moon, so we rode on.  

Mile 50. Still smiling.

At this point in the ride we always wonder, "where is that trail?"  Or, the Mayor wonders and I know.  You have to go over a bridge to get it, but the Mayor always thinks we need to get off early (that's what she said).  Finally, we found the trail, turned on to it, and were promptly passed by a girl (lady), which made the Mayor start pronouncing that we need to get faster.

I suggested that we should find some locals and just follow them to the New Belgium brewery, as I have yet to do this ride without getting lost on the Fo-Co trail system.  Which, we did.  We found some dudes on hybrids who were nice and were going past the turn off and let us ride with them.  We suggested they do the B100 next year.  

And, then we arrived: New Belgium!  Huzzah.  Just in time for the Steven-mobile to roll up and we all went inside and enjoyed some tasty refreshments and free postcards.  I had a pluot beer which was very tasty!  Masinga, who was co-piloting the Steven-mobile until she joined us to ride at Big Beaver, had a beer that tasted like a s'more.  

Then, we rode on to O'dells.  My favorite brewery on the trip, and the site of the sandwiches, which were Ah.Maze.ing.  New mystery ingredients included dried cranberries and chocolate covered pretzels!  I humbly added maple-pumpkin butter to the mix.  Steven asked what I wanted on my sandwich and I told her I wanted the WHOLE enchilada.  Though she looked at me with suspicion, it was so good.  

You want EVERYTHING? Her eyes ask.

Yes, everything!

After hanging around outside, finishing the beer of the odd-duck camera guy (more on him over at Steven's blog), we hopped back on to our bikes in the heat of the day and headed back to Loveland.  The "hump" on the way back is always a bit more painful.  I am slightly drunk and it is way hotter and more windy.  I just dug in and rode.  The Mayor chilled out on my wheel.  That's fine.  If he wants to be towed at seven miles an hour, more power to him.  

As we rode into Loveland, we noticed a bunch of people staring at a tree that was surrounded with caution tape.  I yelled over to an old broad standing on the sidewalk, "what's going on?"

"There's a bear in the tree."  Obviously, we had to pull over.  A baby bear had climbed a tall oak tree on the side of the highway and was just hanging out in one of the tall branches.  The TV news was there along with a lot of rubber neckers, so I didn't think he'd be coming down soon.  

We continued on to Big Beaver, which involves going through a neighborhood and a gate, but we rolled in just as Masinga and Steven and the small one drove up.  Big Beaver has great beer, and nice folks, and they loved that Steven was rocking her "Team Beaver" t-shirt.  I drank a peach beer that was a delight.  After a couple pints, Steven and the small one had to call it a day, so Masinga joined us for the ride to Grimm and beyond.

Beaver, upsizing!

The classiest logo of them all.

Of course it rained on the way to Grimm.  And, though he is isn't using Google-maps, and doesn't know the way, the Mayor spends a good deal of time second guessing my directional choices.  

Wet and wooly, we arrived at Grimm.  We met a posse of folks who were visiting the "Napa Valley of Beer," which I thought was a great way to describe it.  And, drank more beer.  Too much beer it turns out.  

Finding our way to Berthoud and City Star was the next challenge.  I had Google-maps, but I don't know what roads are "good" and what roads are "terrifying."  The Mayor was being supremely unhelpful in this process, which I assumed was him being just a plain old pain in the biscuit, rather than inebriated.  After a hair raising ride out of Loveland on the interstate, we found a passage to a more quiet rode and made it to City Star just as the sun was coming out.

At City Star, we met a parrot.  

The Mayor kept insisting he didn't know the way, which I thought was unfair since he had PLANNED the way.  Again, I thought he was just being weird.  Probably because I was pretty tipsy.  I am pretty good with directions, so I know that I could get us back to Longmont the way we came, but the Mayor didn't want to go that way.  He thought we should go another way.  

So, we turned off the scary-speed-llama road and headed somewhere.  Masinga, I have to say, was a great sport.  And, it was nice that it wasn't raining on this long leg of the journey.  The Mayor, alas, fell over.  

Then, he had to pee, which he did at a stop sign.

Then, he fell over again.  When he started telling me that he could ride, but he "couldn't ride in a straight" line, I realized, finally, that he was wasted.  After the second fall, I considered calling his wife, but I felt like that would be a betrayal of our relationship, so I let him bike it out, bee-otch.  

We made it to the Pump House, where we were so hungry, we considered eating some abandoned hot wings, but the waitress talked us out of it.  She like Masinga also liked to put a little creature on stuff on her adventures and take pictures and FB-them.  Masinga's was a Godzilla toy.  It was pretty cute to see Godzilla's adventures, and I have to say he was in better shape than we were.

We left the Pump House and headed to Oskar Blues.  Enroute, we got a flat.  We made the Mayor change it, which he did with aplumb, despite the beer.  And, we rode on into the sunset, on sidewalks, to Oskar Blues.  

Drunk and still talented!

On the way, I tried to cut the corner and ride over the grass.  Why I decided this was a good idea, I have no idea, but I did, and immediately, before I even fell, I knew I would fall.  "Oh well," I thought and hit the dirt.  A Swedish family was walking up behind me when I popped up.  

"I'm okay, I'm okay," I told them.  The mother, who I think wanted to be more helpful than I would let her, finally shouted, "FINE! Go!"  And, I did. 

Mayoral Blood Bath

Our road rash and ourselves go a table and ordered the hot mess express.  Steven showed up but we were too battle scarred to make the eating and drinking full.  It felt sort of cursory.  And, then, many, many hours later, we retraced our ride from 5:30 in the morning back to The Steven-Mayoral Homestead.  

The poor Mayor.  He has recently sacrificed a good chunk of myself to the low-carb gods.  And, (I know from experience), when you lose a bunch of weight, it totally throws off your "tolerance."  When I realize how bad of shape he was it, it was good late.  I had already been a total bag to him. I just I couldn't compute that he might actually be drunk.  Sorry for being pissy, Mayor!  

Before bed, he came and wished me good night and apologized and we had a bit of a love-festival.  Then, he went to bed and apologized to Steven too, a lot.  Neither Steven nor I is totally sure what he was apologizing or thankful for, but we appreciate it all the same.

All in all, we rode around 104 miles, at about 14 miles per hour, and an estimated 14 pints of beer! 

Conclusions: we all decided that we needed to scale back even more.  We can make it to seven breweries, but it needs to be more like wine tasting and less like a frat hazing.  Maybe, perhaps, just one pint per brewery?  

Other ideas include doing a Brewery 100 5.0 in Iowa.  Whether the roads of Iowa are ready for the hot mess express, I know not.  

200th Blog Thoughts: Well, it has been a long and painful journey.  I have had my ups and downs (in weight, in fitness, in eating, and in terms of rubber side down) documented in this blog, but I have to say that if people keep reading my hack-ass writing back to me, I am going to take the damn thing down.  I have bought new bikes, sold old bikes, and now I am embarking on my 4th RAGBY.  

Where will the next 200 blogs take me?  

Who knows?  

But, there had better be beer.

BBBBBack in the Saddle: Ouch!

Bicycling magazine tweeted the other day asking "what is a cyclist?"  I don't know, but I think I have been operating this summer like a non or lite-cyclist.  Yes, I've done some bike rides, but there's none of the focus or concentrated effort I've made since I started riding in 2010.  I've been working, hanging out with the dog, chilling on the deck, but I haven't been slapping on the spandex and hitting the road like I normally would have expected.

Which is weird, because this was going to be the year that I rode bike as many days as possible!  

Here's how I see things, baring in mind I know nothing about finance.  The first quarter of the year (Jan-March) I was pretty solid.  Lots of bike riding, spin class, and gym time.  Even with a pretty serious back ouchie.  

The second quarter of the year (April, May and June), not so good.  Not so much working out and eating right, a lot more boozing and snoozing.  I could beat myself up!  (Ha ha!), but I won't.  I didn't work out very much.  That's not me being mean to myself, that's just a stone cold fact.  And, while the reasons for this are both good and bad, they are not of consequence.  

So, I am going to write off the second quarter, the way Wal-Mart writes off a quarter of the fiscal year when they have an outbreak of Kathy Lee-scandal.  It wasn't my best effort, but I don't want to let it cloud and over shadow the rest of the year.  

So, to paraphrase Steven, I am putting the trolley in reverse and turning it around!  Third quarter: July, August, September: awesome.  

Of course, that awesome is going to come with a bit of hurting.  In just five short days I am going to ride my bike a 100 miles.  Yikes.  Then, just three short weeks from now, I am looking at a long, long RAGBRAI in the saddle.  Double yikes.  

Yikes because I know how much is going to hurt.  Not only is my self not used to the aches and pains of the bike-riding, but the equipment issues, like painful shoes or loose handlebar tape, well, they haven't shown themselves in.  It's time to get ready to hurt.  Whatever, Jensie says that pain is a valuable companion.  I just hope he is a cheerful companion.  

And, in an effort to get the third quarter off to a good start, I rode my bike today.  The Tiger has been doing "time based training," i.e. he just keeps track of how long he rides, not how far.  He's been shooting for ten hours a week.  He even bought a stop watch.  He needed an hour today, but since he knew I wanted to ride too, he offered to let me go first, so we could stagger the dog-loneliness/house-work time.  

So, I went.  I rode to Grimes, because I am newly in love with the city of Johnston trails.  And, I rode on roads, because the trails have me feeling claustrophobic and with all the rain, it is like riding through the Bayou--just waiting for the alligator to snatch me by the foot and pull me off the Neil Smith trail.  And, I rode across the Saylorville bridge for the first time: a little scary, but fun.  And, I rode to Polk City, with a little misdirection all the way to the High Trestle Trail then down to Ankeny.  

Brewery!  Closed.  Bummer.

I had the idea to stop in Ankeny at one of the new breweries in the area: you know, just to train for Thursday, so I Google-mapped my way there only to find they were closed.  Bummer.  So, I rode on home. Over all I did 43.2 miles!  Go me!  My longest ride of the year: wahn wahn--sound effect.  

B100 Training Ruined!

I hope to get some rides in this week before Masinga takes the seafoam devil to Colorado for me.  What a sweet heart!  

We've got just 20 days till RAGBY (oh my god, how I am going to get all the logistics done) and just five till the B100.  It's time start the third quarter off right, and hurt so good, or if not good, at least often.

Go Me! Me Go Backpacking

I recently got some feedback on this blog.  Apparently, I am "too hard on myself."  I found that rather surprising.  I always thought this blog had a jovial, celebratory tone.  I guess I am just a terrible writer.  (Ha!  Just kidding.)

So, here's something that was awesome.  I went backpacking, which I love.  It is a bit hard to get organized and get up to northern Minnesota, but we did it!  My friends Lexi and Amie and I are working on section hiking the Superior Hiking Trail.

View of the Baptism River from our campsite at Bleecher Creek.

This section, Finland Rec Center to Cook County Road 1 was great.  Day one: easy.  Day two: hard.  Day three: easy.  And, though we normally and purposely hike slow, we actually did some respectable miles.  Like 10 miles a day-ish.  We did like 30 miles in 2 1/2 days--that's a lot for us.

Downriver view of the Baptism River from our first campsite.  I found a secret shelter and stash of firewood too, all because I peed backwards on the latrine. Go me!

Also, the food, which is my job, was perfect.  Not too much, so we were nearly out by the time the hike was over.  And, it was pretty good without me stressing out too much.  Go me!

Lexi is in charge of route.

Also, because this blog is somewhat fitness related I won't tell you about the amazing cookies we ate, and felt not a drop of guilt about, in Two Harbors, but I will tell you that I felt pretty good.  Sometimes hiking this trail, I am sucking wind, but not this time.  I felt pretty strong, even on some sketchy-ass climbs.  Go me!

Amie is the pack mule, as she had the biggest pack.  Bonus: she's a new mom who left her two year old for the longest time ever.  She was a rockstar about it.  Go Amie!

We had great camp sites, saw a ton of glorious rivers, and laughed a lot.

The Manitou River--it was gorgeous!

We even had a brush with disaster.  We arrived at Cook Country Road 1 parking lot to wait for Larry, our hermit ride.  We were supposed to meet him Sunday at 5pm.  We got there at 4, hunkered down in the spattering of rain and read our romance novel.  The bugs were Biblical.

Taking a quick break after the steep descent to the Manitou.  Someone needs to tell the SHT folks about the concept of the "switch back."

Five rolled around, then 5:30, then, 6.  No Larry.  Storm clouds were coming in and we had no cell service so by 6:30 we put the tent back up and came up with a plan.  Lexi and Amie would hike the four miles of gravel to the town, which we hoped would be helpful and try to get in touch with Larry and/or a ride to the rental car which was with Larry and/or in Knife River.

Caribou River--site of our second campsite.  So pretty!

The storm hit.  We came up with a password in case we needed to send help to the other posse (me waiting in the tent): the password was Chaparral!  We steeled our resolve, tried not to think of how this would all play out on some television show about disasters (never split up!), and strapped on boots.  Then, of course, like a knight in a Chevy, Larry arrived.  Thank goodness.

More Caribou.

We tried to get pie, which involved me sort of breaking into the pie shop.  (I blame the lock because it wasn't that hard to get in there).  Without pie, we headed to an overpriced stay at the Super 8 in Duluth, where we enjoyed the "first beer out of the woods" phenomenon--amazing, had a great night's sleep, and drove back to Des Moines.

View of Lake Superior from the Caribou River Gorge.

It was a great backpacking trip, and we are already talking about next year.  The trail just keeps getting prettier as it goes further north.  I might need to invest in some new boots, as I have been getting some killer heel blisters, but I felt pretty tough after three days in the woods.  Go me!

Go me!

Nothing Adventured, Nothing Gained

Our new friends, Emily and Luke, invited us to go camping with them last weekend.  And, because Emily and Luke are our new friends with a boat (I always wanted friends with a boat), we shook our selves out of the lethargy of just staying home and went!  

Part of me wanted to stay home, because I am traveling so much this summer, but I read a great editorial from the June issue of Outside that pretty much just said, "stop being lazy and go.  You will be glad you did." 

There's sort of a theme emerging from this summer, huh?  

Anyway, it was awesome.  Particularly for little Miss Holiday.  Emily and Luke are the guardians of my new friend Frank, a big, yellow pup who loves wrestling with H.  When we met the three of them, Frank was smaller than H.  Now, he is 90 pounds of love.  

We found a great camp site, and with a little bit of nervousness, let the dogs off their leashes.  They were great.  They romped, played, but didn't leave the area.  Of course, Holiday convinced Frank to jump in the lake.  Later, he got her back by "accidentally" pushing her off a six foot cliff into the water.  

Holiday also got to experience some firsts: 

First time camping.

First time on a boat.  (I'd include pictures but she decided to chew up my camera cord.  Definitely, not a first in terms of naughtiness). 

First time in the back of a pick up truck.  

She did skip the "first time rolling in a dead snake," which Frank decided to do Sunday morning.  Thank goodness.

She's like a real Iowa dog!

We had a ton of fun, hanging out on the boat, fishing, hanging around the bonfire.  And, when we left on Sunday morning Miss H. was exhausted.  She slept the entire drive home and all day on Sunday.  

Camping is awesome.

Alas, everything comes with a price.  Camping may have aggravated my week-old case of poison ivy because when I woke up this morning, I was covered in new hives from my face to my legs.  I'd been washing it and not scratching it, but it just kept getting worse.  Face-poison ivy is where I draw the line.

Leprosy?  

So, I sucked it up and went to the clinic for the steroid shot.  The upshot is that the steroids may give me some bonus immunity for back packing in Minnesota this weekend with my lady friends.  

My summer of fun is still daunting me, but now that I have had two experiences where I went ahead and did stuff, despite of misgivings and worries, and it turned out awesome, I am feeling more confident.  Perhaps all awesome comes with a bit of risk?

Okay, That Was Awesome

I rode my bike: weird, I know. 

My friend Jenni is married to a crazy cyclist.  He does Leadman and the TransIowa.  He's insane, but super nice.  I'd been admiring the Jasper County landscape, but I was intimidated about heading out to ride by myself, so I asked Jenni to ask Brad if he could come up with a loop for me.

He sent me this: The Speedway Loop.

Uh, those are not my stats, by the way.  

I'd been meaning to ride in Jasper County because there are hills, and if I ride right after work, I don't have to face the dog's sad eyes when I try to come home and then leave again.  Those are the worst!  So, today, finally, I brought my bike to work.

10,000 people asked if I rode it to work.  (Yes, in this skirt with this lap top for 35 miles) I got in a bit of a political discussion with the old-guy walkers, which I didn't want to do, but that's cool.

Then, it was getting nye on 4:15 and I was thinking of just bailing on the ride.  I knew I might, which is why I brought it inside this morning, instead of leaving in the car.  It would make it harder to bail.  And, it did.

So, I rode the Speedway Loop, and it was awesome!

Here are some stuff I noticed:

1. The "bike trail" through MayTag Park is insane.  It is super curvy, tree-lined and hilly.  It is intense!
2. Riding past the Speedway was really cool.
3. The storm that might have hit just blew over.  Never look east when you are starting a ride.
4. Saw the creepy "Care" Center ruins and the animal rescue leage.
5. The roads were so swoopy and pretty, with fields and farms and trees, just like out of a glossy bicycling magazine.
6. I saw a lady on a horse!
7. I was a bit scared of being hit by a car, as I know the students that are driving around here.
8. Headwinds.  Yup.
9. Letting myself get out of shape + hills.  Yup.
10. So glad I didn't let myself talk myself out this ride.  It was so pretty, and the temperature was perfect.

The Brewery 100 and RAGBRAI are probably going to kill me, but I will die happy.

Low Expectations are the Key to Happiness

Every summer, I get myself into an emotional pickle due to unreasonable expectations.  Maybe it is pop culture, or the nature of being a teacher, but I always think that my summers are going to be 100% more productive/relaxing/fun than they turn out.

While you are grinding through February and March in Iowa and the academic year, summer takes on a near mythical quality: free time!  Warm!  Sleeping in!  Getting "caught up"!  Getting fit!  And, every summer, I am crushed.  

Now that I have finally figured that out, I have come to realize my projections for the summer are off, like way off.  

Projections

Days are 28 hours long, not 24.

Everything will take 60% less time than it actually does.

I will function at full capacity, no slacking. 

Everything will be 30% better than it usually is.

Every day will feel like vacation! 

The weather will always be perfect!

Technology will never malfunction.  

I won't have to do anything stupid or boring.  

So, this summer, I am fully embracing low reasonable expectations.  Here are some examples.  

Work 

I am working "full time" this summer, along with work travel and some side projects.  Old-Summer-Me would have thought all that work could be completed in just a casual 4 hours a day of working from home.  

New-Summer-Me: Nope.  I am going to be working.  All. The.  Time.  

(Though, my friend relayed some work advice that she got from her dad, who seems like a happy guy.  He told her "you will never be caught up at work.  You just have to accept that fact and go home.")

Camping

Old-Summer-Me would have imagined myself camping every weekend, with a back packing trip thrown in there.  

New-Summer-Me: Nope.  Maybe, if I get to go camping once that would be great.  And, if I get a back packing trip, that is like a freak of nature coincidence.

Beach Time

Old-Summer-Me: I'd imagine myself lounging every afternoon at Gray's Lake, or Big Creek, getting some rays, reading trashy novels.

New-Summer-Me: WTF?  I live in Iowa.  And, because it has been raining every day, all the bodies of water are flooded.  

Getting Totally Prepared for Fall Semester: Ha, ha!  Hilarious. 

Getting Out of the Bike Everyday: Phiff.  As if.

Lots of Quality Time with My Dog: I wish. 

Gauzy, endless days of relaxation: Am I on crack?  

Extreme levels of fitness: Ba-ha-ha.

Granted, there is a lot of fun built into my schedule: I went to Yellowstone.  I am going backpacking, Brewery 100, Las Vegas, RAGBRAI, and, of course, Belgium.  (Hence all the working: that Belgian beer is spendy!).  But when I am not doing those things, I am working.  If any of the other stuff happens, it happens, and it is a super-awesome bonus.  

And, I need to enjoy the fun that is actually happened when it hits me.  Like lunch with my sister yesterday.  That was fun, and I don't get to do it often during the school year.  That's summer fun!  It is happening! 

And, of course, I am in for some suffering.  Backpacking, Brewery 100, RAGBY are all going to be major suffer festivals.  Whatever.  They will still be awesome. 

Trekking through the Back Log

It's been a weird May, with an impressive lack of blogging.  As I try to get back on track, in both my fitness and blogging worlds, I realize, I've got a bit of catching up to do.  

On Thursday, I hauled my biscuit out of bed to go to trekking class with Goldie.  Trekking is like spin class, but with treadmills and it turns out to be the only time I don't totally hate running.  And, Goldie was there.  

I wanted to skip, especially when I got up and realized there was no coffee.  Why was there no coffee?  I had done most of the grocery shopping at Fareway, the cheap grocery store.  There were a few things on the list that we needed from a fancier grocery store, close to where the Tiger works, so I asked Tiger to pick up four things:

1. Radichhio--one head

2. Coffee

3. Farro--four cups dry

4. eggplant-1

Not only did I make him a list, but I also walked him through the list, discussed my expectations for the list, then text messaged him the list when he forgot it.  You can imagine my frustration when I awoke to find no coffee made, but no coffee in the whole house.  I scraped by with the six beans we had left, but I was pretty ticked off.

Coffee scavenger hunt

Then, I check the farro.  He didn't get four cups dry.  I barely got 1.5 cups dry!  Grr!  Yes, I was mad.  It was 4:42 in the morning, and I was waiting to drink six-bean coffee.  I measured.  

I said FOUR cups.

Then, I got to trekking and it was cool.  It was a hard class, very sweaty, but I was glad I went.  And, it was nice to see Goldie.  One of my favorite things about Goldie is that even though she super fit, she always takes the time to express a companionable complaint in the hardness of a class.  

This lady loves to trek.

That's all you get for today.  I am playing catch up, so your insight is getting slashed.  And format.

I did stuff.

Post Trekking Daze

It is the mayor's birthday, so be sure to send him your vibes of joy and malt.