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The first indignity is entirely my fault. I was hungry yesterday before I wanted to go mountain biking, so I decided to cook myself a quick meal. I started making tabbouleh, but realized it wouldn't be ready for a few hours. I had a really big craving for it, so much so that I didn't read the entire recipe. Making tabbouleh didn't satisfy my hunger, so I moved on to the left over couscous. I wasn't sure what to eat with it, but I knew that the jar of tamarind paste that's been sitting in my refrigerator for year was going to factor in. Day after day I've been questing to figure out what the hell you do with tamarind paste. I knew once, because I bought it. No wait. Johanna bought it for me. Anyway, I googled "tamarind paste couscous" and found a recipe for a real simple vegetable curry that goes on top of couscous. Since I had been thinking so hard about the tamarind paste, I decided to put on a heaping tablespoon. It looked pretty edible when I put it on the table, and it almost was. Clearly, tamarind paste is powerful stuff. I washed it down with a couple of miller lites and headed for the reservoir.

Needless to say, the 90 degree heat and that stuff sloshing around in my stomach made me feel bizarre and unable to correctly operate my bike.

[Image]I guess this is how they make biodiesel.


My second indignity was this morning. I was riding to through the Farmington Ave Asylum merge and starting to go down the hill. I watched this rumbling Rabbit coming off 84 west turning into my direction. He clearly wasn't paying attention, because he almost ran me off the road. Riding behind him, I noticed a bumper sticker that indicated that his car was fueled by vegetable oil. I guess it was really hard to see me through all that smugness.

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The last indignity happened on the way home. I left work slightly early, so I decided to go ride across the river to East Hartford. Nothing much happening until I was about to get on the Charter Oak Bridge to get home. I hit a groundhog by the 5/15 entrance and crashed into the guardrail. I wasn't going that fast, so it wasn't that big of a deal, only a bruise on my butt and a cut on my finger. The upside was I learned the unique grunt made by a groundhog when you run one over with a bike. At first I was mad at the groundhog, because it ran at me and made my crash, but in retrospect, I see it had a tough decision to make. I startled it and it went to run away, but it only had two choices: risk getting hit by a bike or run on to the highway entrance and probably get hit by a car. I hope he's ok.