It was, perhaps, suitably dreary and cloudy for a ride following sombre Good Friday reflections.  However, undeterred by stiff winds, a little spittle from above and a feel of snow in the air, eight hardy souls gathered at the tower for the weekly roust.  MIT regulars Jim, Merle, Mark, Rob S., and RJ where joined by Ed, Haley, and Pat.  With a harsh headwind the (normally) MTB trio quickly proved their mettle by ably pulling the group up the Ridge Road and onto a wind-at-our-backs final stretch to Schellenberg’s.  Haley (The Hammer?) opted to go for a solo 45 minute ride while the guys tanked up on eggs, toast, and that generous bottomless cup always served in Kleefeld.

Chatter included numerous references to communists, fascists, stalinists, marxists, and socialists somehow triggered by a passing reference to the idea of starting a bicycle co-op/cafe in Steinbach.  Both relief and disappointment was expressed at Merle’s lack of a decent Arkansas redneck lilt following his spring break excellent adventure.

The departure from breakfast was a bracing 38 kph blast to PTH52 that had RJ eating his eggs for the second time (how the heck do you guys ride that hard after a meal?).  The final 14K saw the group break-up into stupid-fast, in-shape, and i-don’t-give-a-damn-31k-is-plenty-fast (my category).

I think the season has begun.  I had to go and pick-up a big mac and milkshake tonight because I was just famished at about 9 pm.  The calories are burning up again.  Weather permitting, I will ride to Oakbank tomorrow for my traditional spandex clad triumphant arrival at the Janzen family Easter BBQ.

I don’t actually know how this works, but I’m sure I could figure it out.  So, if there is enough interest with MIT members, I’m volunteering to run a UCI WorldTour Cycling Pool.  I’m guessing it works like an NHL hockey pool, which I was once a part of (also the statistician) back in my Yant Zied (Winkler) days.  Up to date UCI stats are available here.

So, let’s see your interest by leaving comments to this post.  If there are at least five more players, besides yours truly, I will look into setting something up.  For “skin-in-the-game”, I am open to suggestions.  You know, something suitable like making the low point scorer show up at a FOG ride with a three-speed CCM Road King wearing sweats and having a coffee thermos strapped to the rat trap (or was that was me on the first MIT ride seven years ago…).

A somewhat cool and dreary gathering at the water tower eventually gave way to a clear and warm afternoon with a stiff wind from the south.  The faithful few were Jac, Jim, Glenn, and Ron.  After some selective abuse and reflections on the questionable manhood of various MIT members not present on this glorious morning, the intrepid quad tackled the   slick and mucky gravel mile south to Ridge Road.  RJ gloated over his fender clad single speed as the others quickly developed a splendid stripe of Lake Agassiz gumbo up their backsides.

As the quad turned west and settled into the four part harmony of dual drafting and battling the wind, RJ soon recanted of his fender ecstasy and longed for the gearing he had left hanging in the garage that morning.  The ride home, with wind, proved that “Redline” was to be more than just the name of his ride on this day.

Glenn passed on the waffles and chatter to make a timely arrival back home.  So the three amigos were left to dine at Schellenberg’s.  Jobs, family, gear, politics, further abuse (and even some qualified admiration) of MIT members not present and copious amounts of fine colombian brew carried the hour.

A pit stop at Pat’s fine little LBS produced a repaired water bottle cage for Jac and a new set of tires for RJ’s daughter.  Oh yeah, it also resulted in a new Rocky Mountain Soul 29′er  for RJ (the official explanation – the wife explanation – is “Jac made me do it” – and I have witnesses – right Pat?).

A record warm day, a record early start for the Club and….

a record turnout of 21 riders!  Unfortunately, also an accident with two riders going down (Rob and Cameron).  Abrasions, torn spandex, and wobbly wheels resulted but everyone finished the ride.