Since the last post, quite a while ago, The Logging Road Cyclist has been leading a quiet life. After that freeze out, he bought a Nano pullover so as to stay warmer, sent his Torrentshell jacket back to the manufacturer in hopes that they would replace it with one that doesn’t leak, so as to stay drier, and bought a rather tacky, but hopefully useful compass so as to stay more oriented.
Whether or not any of this helps, well, as Donald Rumsfeld says: “Time will tell.”
TLRC has also been doing some riding, but not much that is post-worthy, mostly just the usual local training stuff. He did get out on the last sunny weekend to do the first Ride Around Prairie Mountain of the year. This is, according to D. the best of all the TLRC rides. A discussion about that led TLRC back to this gem, where he got a few interesting pics, like this one of the almost-100-ft-long-picinic-table-made-from-one-slab-of-Doug-fir in the pretty-skanky-Hubert-McBee-Park:
All this neo-Cold War feeling over the Crimea made TLRC feel lucky that Lane County is a real refuge for us all in case of need:
And there was this gentle reminder that, no matter how remote the road, there may be a driver who can make for an uncomfortable situation:
As usual the ride was good. Even the blowdown of the last few miles wasn’t too bad, just inconvenient. Certainly worth the effort.
Yesterday, being a good Dad, he took his girls out for a hike over Cardwell Hill Road. Just over the top, Devil Puppy came bounding down onto the road, missed her landing and scraped along on the side of her face for a while before bounding away. Ten or fifteen minutes later, TLRC noticed that what looked like a coating of mud over her entire front was actually fresh, bright blood, apparently coming from a through-and-through bite wound in her tongue. There were no other visible bleeding holes and the copious amount dripping from her tongue seemed fully capable of doing the job of covering her. Back at The Forest Estate, after baths, she started bleeding again, and TLRC found a puncture in her neck as well, so off to the 24-hour ($92 to walk in the door) emergency vet, where the final tally was:
Broken tooth, big gash in lip, two puncture wounds in neck, lacerated tongue: $850 with Elizabethan collar.
>Elizabethan collar
Never thought of them that way, but now I can’t un-see it