Well, at least it's over. Remind me NEVER to sign up for another MS150 bike ride. For many months now, I have lived in fear of missing an entire weekend of waves to ride the bike 167 miles for charity. I was so relieved when I heard the weather forecast calling for onshore winds to mess up the waves for the entire weekend. The monkey wrench fell in on Saturday, sometime after the fat black galloping pig chased the golden mare across the field somewhere in Hastings or Elkton and I nearly fell off my bike from laughing. Right after that, the rain came. We rode in rain for hours. Our shoes were like overflowing soup bowls, our teeth full of road grit. Road biking is not as good as surfing, no matter how you try to convince yourself. So when I woke up in Daytona Beach this morning to begin the 84 miles trek back to St. Augustine, I did not want to see that the wind had died and that the waves were glassy. Oh, but this was so amusing to the unaffected! "Oh, Nancy! You are so funny with your surfing!" they say with squinty eyes. I look with longing out at the Atlantic ocean as we ride by, and there I am on a bicycle, and miles away from my beloved surfboard. Laugh, go ahead and laugh, all of you! You will never understand. So, as soon as I got home from the ride, I jumped in the car and went to Crossovers. It was a bit choppy, but bigger than Friday. I caught some decent ones, and they washed all that road grit away.
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