SART Blockage!

Me, this morning, in my garage, not feeling it

I'm not going to lie, I didn't feel like mounting Serena and riding the SART to work this morning but I'm bound and determined to ride this entire week.  Luckily for me, Mark was riding with me this morning so I didn't have the option of being a quitter and driving to work.  I was leg weary, bitter, and suffering from intense gas, but I still managed to climb aboard and make it happen.

I realized yesterday that riding every single day to work AND going to the gym at lunch requires an alarming amount of clothing so, since I was totally unmotivated last night, and didn't want to do anything this morning, I packed the same gym clothes I wore yesterday.  Screw it, who cares if I smell like a dirty asshole when I go work out at lunch, that's everyone elses problem and they should respect the fact that I'm barely hanging on here.

Mark and I took off and were having a nice ride when all of a sudden, we came to the First Street bridge and saw that the SART was closed on both sides of the bridge.  Some salt of the earth, blue collar dude approached us and said "YOU GUYS CAN'T RIDE HERE TODAY.  THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SIGN BACK THERE SOMEWHERE.  WE'LL LET YOU GET OFF HERE BUT YOU'VE GOTTA HEAD OVER DOWN THERE TO JACKSON AND RIDE THAT WAY!".  First, why was he yelling?  Second, there was no sign and 'back there' is entirely too vague.  Third, I have no clue whatsoever where Jackson is and how I was supposed to get to it.  So we got the hell off the SART, and onto the busy congested street and looked for Jackson.

Upon finding Jackson, we discovered that it runs through a shitty neighborhood and right past a school where apparently all the parents completely ignore any and all traffic rules.  I could tell Mark had had enough and he just took off, weaving through the cars, wrong side of the road, kicking school children, trying to get back to the SART as quickly as possible.  It was a bad scene and we needed to get the hell outta there.

Finally we found our way back to the SART and got to the gym so I could sit in the steam room and listen to Mark rip farts and make comments on them.  I have to admit, for whatever reason, when someone comments on their own farts and they have an English accent, its more amusing than a regular American guy commenting on his farts.  After a quick steam, I took a half assed shower, didn't shave, and rode on to work.

I guess life just has a way of balancing out because yesterday was a great day for a ride, the stuff that riding dreams are made of, and today was pretty much a giant shit sandwich.  Such is life.

Paint Wars on the SART

I took to the SART this morning and to my surprise, there had been a major move on the part of the city to take back the SART.  As far as the eye could see, the city had replaced tagging with their own cover up paint (above).  Miles and miles of covered over street urchin vandalism had been diligently covered on Saturday and Sunday.  Yeah there were a few eager beavers who had gotten out last night and tried to put their tags back in their appropriate spots (not sure how they determine which spot is the right spot), but by and large, the massive paint offensive mounted by Santa Ana had done its job.  I'm not sure if this is good work by the city or another example of spending local government funds on an exercise in futility but at least it made me happy.

On top of the ride being mostly graffiti free, I noticed at least double the normal number of bums camping under the 5th street bridge.  As I rode under, something told me they'd had a big night last night as several of the bums were clearly walking off a major hangover.  I don't know if they were celebrating the Laker's victory or a full weekend of Cinco De Mayo action but the lads under the 5th Street bridge had clearly done a fine job of making it happen last night!

Back In Biz

Yes, I've been gone a while and yes, my legions of fans have been wondering where the hell I've been.  Well, I was on vacation, training and dutifully updating the Gut Chronicles and then he worst cold since the Spanish Flu of 1914 hit me and I haven't done much worth writing about since.  Fortunately for me, after a week or so of fighting it off I'm feeling pretty much fit as a fiddle so I'm back on it.

Saturday was a glorious day and since I had to go register my kids for soccer, I thought it would be a good time to hop on Serena for the first time in two weeks and pedal my ass down to soccer registration seven miles away and get some exercise in.

The ride was a great ride and part of it took me through charming downtown Tustin.  Downtown Tustin is a quaint olde style village that has wide tree lined streets and a feeling that takes you back to a gentler time.  In spite of the fact that downtown Tustin has the old vibe, they have plenty of necessities such as:

Albertos, no community is complete without a spot to get a huge greasy burrito that will put you in a four day coma!

Tough to see in the above photo but Deva's.  Deva's is a dumpy bar where the one time I went, the bartender was this 50+ year old chick in a thong bikini.  Strangest thing I ever saw in my life that was legal.

The Swinging Door!  A quaint tavern where hot chicks in ultra tiny bikini's serve you beer.  How do I know this you ask?  I know this because my wife likes to hang out there with her friends.  I myself have never had the pleasure of going to The Swinging Door so I thought I'd stop in for a cold beer to knock the dust off but those bastards weren't open at 10:15am.  Stupid Swinging Door.

After cruising through Old Tustin, I made my way back to Santa Ana.  On this particular route home, I was reminded of how much parts of Santa Ana really are like Mexico.  Everywhere I looked, I could have sworn I had somehow traveled to Mexico on Serena:

In parts of Santa Ana, all he signs are in Espanol

These two beefy mammas walking down the street wearing clothes two sizes too small for them reminded me of Mexico

Not Mexico, but Santa Ana, CA

Just like in Mexico, parts of Santa Ana have a very loose interpretation of what is and what is not an acceptable place to dump trash

Ultimately I made the turn for home and rode past the old Santa Ana courthouse.  This building is really cool, well over 100 years old, and an example of one of the things people love about Santa Ana.

The old Santa Ana courthouse, very cool spot

Not too much of a point to this post other than to say sorry for not posting, I was sick, now I'm better, and I rode Serena 14 miles on Saturday and you can expect to hear more from me.

ps.  Eat me