Saturday was once again time for the SMNDFBR and this one was a hot one but we still managed a decent sized group of brave individuals not afraid to sweat a little.
Unfortunately there has been a lot of bike thefts in Lincoln as of late, David fell victim last week and had his Cannondale Fat CAAD stolen. (So if you see a turquoise fat CAAD with orange accents around Lincoln, let us know) Luckily for him Joe has quite the loaner fleet to lend to friends when their bike or wheels get stolen so David was present and/or accounted for on Saturday. Pressures in the tires of the loaner Blackborow weren't quite up to Dave's exacting standards so he decided to put some more air in them before hitting the gravel. No bounce, no play as they say. I had thought to myself that it would take all day to pump them up with that tiny frame pump that David whipped out...
To my bewilderment and awe however, it only took a few expert flicks of the wrist and that darned ole pump magically swelled up to 4 times it's original size. That Dave has got the magic touch and might consider a career in massage if his current job doesn't work out. You never know, could be a happy ending for all involved.
Once Dave had his tires to the right PSI and allowed his pump to return to it's normal size so as not to need to worry about it getting it caught in the zipper, of his frame bag. Once it was properly disgorged we were off once again sailing the seas of gravel.
The plan was to head out to Garland, the village not the Christmas decoration, eat lunch and then turn around and head to Malcolm and then back Lincoln. Ironically the last time we had gone out to Garland, the village not the Christmas decoration, was shortly after Christmas in January of 2015. It was a tad cooler then than it was on Saturday but it wasn't nearly as sloppy Saturday, so a little give and a little take.
Since it was near 100 on Saturday but felt closer to the temps one might experience on the surface of the sun, we stopped a tad more frequently than we might have otherwise but safety first as they say. The regroup stops didn't last too long though, when you stopped it got noticeably hotter due to a lack of any sort of breeze other than the one you made while riding so breaks were kept short and sweet.
It was so hot even the cows were contemplating a little skinny dippin, just look at those guilty faces. You all should be udder-ly ashamed of yourselves, y'all are related.
Made it to Garland and the Outlaw Steakhouse tired and sweaty but remembered to lock our bikes before going inside because that's the world we live in now, one that's not safe for bicycles to be left unattended without good quality locks, lest they wander off.
We made quick work of lunch and were in and out in no time... we must have stunk to high heaven as well since the waitress suggested that we order quickly before the "softball team" arrived shortly with 26 strong which would cause the food and beverages to take a little longer to come out. We never did see a single soft baller, or any ballers for that matter, soft or otherwise the entire hour we were there but the food and the service were both good and we probably didn't need to dawdle any who.
Left out of Dodge, uh, Garland, the same way we came in and noticed this beautiful mound of MMR hill on the way into Garland and I wondered to myself why we had never taken 182nd into or out of Garland to Bluff road rather than turning on Waverly and missing this guy.
It was a glorious road and a nice change from the crunch of the gravel.
About a half mile in we learned why we had never taken this road previously, it abruptly ended and we had to back track to Waverly Road but who doesn't like a little adventure now and again.
One thing Garland lacks is a convenience store so our next stop was 10 miles down the road at the Malcolm General Store, a familiar place for Pirates of all types. A cold beverage and a little porch sitting was just the ticket for weary travelers on Saturday and the Sac-O-Suds never disappoints in either department.
As we got back into Lincoln folks started to split off into whatever direction home was as is usually the case, bringing the official SMNDFBR to an end for another week.
The rest of us homeless heathens ended up in search of a frosty one to wash down the gravel dust, where we met up with Carlos who has missed the last two rides but never the beer stops. Priorities in check!
Eventually even the beer stop came to an end, ending the unofficial extended SMNDFBR for another week. As a bonus there was even a really nice 70s LeSabre outside on our way back to the shop; while maybe not the most highly sought after car in the 70s, I'd still take one in this nice of shape today but maybe that's just me. That is a whole lotta Detroit steel sitting there.
As always, thanks to all of those who came out. Always great riding with you.