The Great Wabbit Hunt

Hallelujah-- it finally feels like spring!

True to form, Layne came home with two sets of the awesome carbon wheels we demo'd on Saturday. Wicked cool-- that's pretty much all there is to say.

I've been dreaming about them all weekend. I couldn't keep my mind on church because my thoughts kept drifting. (They kept getting rudely pulled back by the speaker who was discoursing on the topic of living prudently. I tried not to feel a little guilty.)

I took them out this afternoon. Finally a ride with no jacket or tights. I wanted to see what they could do.

I went toward Saratoga Springs. I know that route very well-- I knew how fast I could do it pre-Aeolus, and I wanted to compare and see what they really did for me.

I thought I was flying.

After a while, I'm cruising along about 20 mph and I see a cyclist up ahead.

"Hehwoh, Wabbit", I think to myself. Sure, Wabbit is 1/4 mile away, but nothing can evade me and my Pink Monster today. I start pedaling faster.

I'm gaining on the yellow-jerseyed, white helmeted Wabbit quickly. I must be Superwoman.

I'm ready to pounce. I get my breathing under control so that when I pass the Wabbit, I can completely demoralize him with the obviously minimal effort it took me to pass him and leave him in my dust.

Except that my Wabbit was not really Wabbit. It was a little old lady (think like 80 years old) riding an ancient cruiser with white hair (no helmet) and a yellow polyester shirt. (NOT a cycling jersey, although they are made of polyester too. But they're different. I promise!)

Mostly I felt bad flying past her and her dentured grin. And I felt stupid that it took me even that long to pass near-dead Wabbit.

Guess you can't win them all.