Welcome to Pat's Dildo Club

Rode 16 miles this morning with Mr. Cartophiliac. Note the word "morning" in that first sentence. I don't do mornings, and I don't let mornings do me. I negotiated a 10:00am start time and after a few miles, got my legs under me. Mr Cartophiliac chose the route, so we rode east, along a path that was new to me--at least the part of it we were riding. Lots of bikers shared the trail--families, small groups of teens, serious speedsters, couch riders. A big group was riding in from the next county, so there were lots of arrowed signs leading back to their starting place that said "Home." I admit to some nostalgia as I rode that direction, where I made my home for 19 years. I tend to get homesick at the strangest times when I get into that territory. But today we didn't ride that far.

I found out I can ride to a Dairy Queen that's just five or six miles from my house on that path. I figure a ride can cancel out a chocolate caramel cheesecake Blizzard every now and then.

And I saw this little bar at a crossroad....Or at least that's what I thought I saw.* I may have to stop there sometime too and see what's going on behind the blacked out windows. Could be a mini adventure in it. Maybe they have a pool table, although it's a little hard to imagine playing pool in bike shorts.Do they make leather bike shorts? Playing pool in leather bike shorts might work.

I've been riding longer and faster these days. Sometimes, if I get going about 18 mph along a good, smooth stretch of path and hold it there, I can get that feeling....the one like I'm flying. It doesn't last long on a busy-path day like today, but I got there a couple of times. The river on one side and me flying along minding my own business alongside it. It's a high, that feeling. I want to keep riding for miles and miles and miles.

We finished the ride at a crowded farmer's market in the city. I was craving a lox crepe, but it didn't taste as good as I expected. Maybe smoked salmon and capers just don't belong in a pancake. Or maybe I was still back there on the bike trail, pretending like I was flying.

This afternoon I went to an amazing, uplifting memorial service for one of the strongest, smartest, funniest women I've ever known. A full house to celebrate her 89 years of life. As I sat and marveled at the love this woman engendered, I couldn't help thinking she would have loved to have been there, laughing and talking about books. Wherever she's at, I imagine Beryl is flying too.

*When I looked again, it really said Lido Club, but I swear that sign changed. And what the hell is a lido anyway?