2 hours of The Mountain Goats does strange things to a man
So today I went to the deli for a while to stock the cooler. Which would have been fine, had I not left my sneakers at Ally’s house.
Have you ever spent 20 minutes in a 40 degree cooler in sandals, shorts and a t-shirt? Not very fun.
Anywho, I returned from that to go on a long bike ride before coming home to watch the tour at 5 p.m. I went up through Goshen, and into Cornwall, Kent, Washington, and back to Woodbury on 47. Not that this means anything to people from New Hampshire.
But it was a 50-something mile ride that took 3-ish hours. I spent the first two hours listening to The Mountain Goats, and the last hour listening to Mike Doughty. Now, Drew will tell you that 2 hours of The Mountain Goats will fuck you up – upbeat music with lyrics about abuse, alcoholism and drug addiction is always interesting.
Fun fact. One climb on Route 45 was 4 miles long and between 5 and 7 percent. 47, for the most part, is about 2 miles long and between 7 and 10 percent. I think. But I rode those with my jersey unzipped all the way, looking as pro as I can on a bike that is about to exlpode.
