June 03, 2006

The Creepy-Crawly Heebie-Jeebie Malibu Bike Ride Blues

Morning Workout
5 hours 41 minutes
Heart Rate Zone: Aerobic (Zone 1). It was supposed to be Lactate Threshold (Zone 2), according to the Grand Plan but, alas, the legs just didn't want to move today. In fact, the whole ride was frustrating for a variety of reasons that I won't get into right now.

31 minutes and 47 seconds of unbridled excitement that I was finally off the damn bike
Heart Rate Zone: Lactate Threshold (Zone 2)

Random Comments: There must've been a bug and snake convention in Malibu today because they were out in full force. Or maybe it was just the unbridled heat. Either way, it was a creepy crawly ride. It started about 1 hour in when we passed what looked eerily like a California Kingsnake just sunning himself right there on the side of the road. I nearly ran over the little fecker. Cat didn't notice him. But that would come back to haunt her later. Specifically, the haunting occured at about 3 hours into our ride. A three foot rattler was coiled up in the middle of the road, just about striking distance from Cat as she approached on her bike. She got freaked out a little. However, that "a little" turned into "freaked out a lot" when, as she got next to the mammoth-like snake, a fella on his motorcycle came blasting by. In a sudden echoing - CRUNCH! SPLAT! - he ran right smack-dab, point blank over that snake. Though I was too far back to witness it, it soon became clear that Cat has become permanently scarred from that sound, as images of projectile snake blood flooded her mind. Meanwhile, back where I was riding, some bubba-looking fellow stopped his white pick-up truck in the middle of the road, got out of the cab, walked over and picked up the run-over snake (which, for the record, was still moving). Holding the three foot rattling rattler in one hand, he climbed back into his truck and began driving, one-handed, off to someplace to do something that I'd rather not know about.

Those were the snakes. Now let's talk about the bugs.

There was the mosquito-like insect that flew into my mouth and got crushed into the Powerbar that I was chewing and was too tired and too hungry to spit out. Then there were the bugs that got lodged into Cat's gum (which she is usually chomping on as she rides and isn't going to let some imbedded bugs make her dispose of it). And of course there was the little fella that came buzzing out of nowhere and got so lodged between my lip and teeth that I had to literally reach up and slap it out. And supposedly there were four or five little black demons that kept circling my head in PigPen like fashion as I rode frustratingly up the canyon. I'm not sure if it was two of those little demons that got crushed on my glasses as we descended the white knuckle drop to the bottom. But it was definitely quite a few of their friends that ended their lives caught in the brambles of my forearm hair, forcing me to pick them out during our refueling stop. May they all rest in peace.

I suppose this one goes out to all the insects I've killed before.