Last night my friend T and her man had a few folks over to their suburban outpost to eat dinner and lounge in their pool, and it was awesome--both the company and the lounging. The pool was the perfect temperature, and the weather was perfectly hot, and we had floaty things to sit on and beverages aplenty. So I got alllll hammered and ridiculous, and ultimately disappeared from the festivities to go for a pee and never came back. I realized in the bathroom that I needed to go to bed immediately, so I threw my bathing suit in the tub and conked out in the guest room and didn't reappear until morning. I learned today that Bill barfed when he got home, so I don't feel that I was necessarily the dronkest person there, though I probably was. But at least I was not alone.

And I had planned from the get go to stay overnight and ride my bike home 28 miles in the morning (my bike and I caught a ride to T's with a friend). What, that doesn't seem like an awesome post-party idea to you? So I did that today, though morning turned into mid-afternoon before I got my ass out the door. What can I say, T and I had tons of catching up to do anyway and she is the talkingest person I know, probably. The long chat also gave me a chance to lose the wee hangover, recover some hydration, and eat before hitting the road, and I felt nearly peppy when I got on my bike. T assured me that the route would be all nice and flat, and that I would be surprised at how fast it went. But she was wrong on both counts. Turns out the NW suburbs are full of rolling hills. And there was wind, primarily from the south, which was primarily the direction I was heading. Also, the terrain was kinda all over the place, and I had to stop at A LOT of stoplights. And I took a really dumb detour to see where one path went, and ended up at the Sculpture Garden, where I did not need to be. So no, I was not really impressed with how fast it was. In fact I was mostly slow. But I did get in the habit of yelling "Heyyyyyyyyyyyy" on every downhill.

However! It was not all dogged slogging through the heat. Medicine Lake was beautiful, and I got to ride with a bald eagle for awhile. He was right over my head, close enough to cast a big shadow on me (maybe he thought my helmet was prey?). I also rode my bike over a floating boardwalk on another wee detour in some regional park lake/wetland, which was a little creepy but cool. Then there was all the usual Minneapolis bike trail beauty blah blah love letter to the city trails blah, except I would have given my kingdom for a falafel stand to materialize in Theo Wirth park (it did not).

Now, though, I am thrashed. My ass is all chafed from bike seat friction, and I'm developing a very uncool rash that has caused me to google "bike butt rash." I am completely full of falafel and baba ganoush (holla!) and very, very tired. So I'm going to apply some ointment and get a solid night of sleep. I'll check you on the flipper.