No Shoes, but Saw a Scary Dog

All the players came from far and wide, with their out-of-state plates; kickin them gangsta rides.

Local and distant players, allow me to tell you about my trip to the Saucony Outlet yesterday afternoon. I hopped in my mom-mobile, cranked up the gangster music (I got that new-new Nas and Common album Uncommonly Nasty and had that shit crizanked in the ride). It's not super since it's not Nas and Common collaborating on anything, and all the songs are old songs, but remixed. I'm finna listen to it a few more times before I can give it either the thumb's up or thumb's down. The shit was excrunsive, so it better be good!

I decided to take the scenic route to the Outlets yesterday to both enjoy what little bits of sunshine were peeking through the clouds and to avoid traffic on Pittsfield-Lenox Rd. That road is a mess to begin with, but now they've torn it all up so it's much, much worse. I can only hope they'll figure out a better speed scheme; right now the 20 minute drive takes me through 13 different speed zones. Some change before the Subaru can even catch up with the last one. But that's not the story I was here to tell...

I wound my way through the lovely back roads of Pittsfield and Lenox with the mountains on my left side and the Housatonic River hidden to my right (and sometimes left). As I pulled into the parking lot to the outlets, feeling refreshed with my drive I noted that there wasn't a Massachusetts license plate to be seen. Not A Good Sign! People were literally driving every which way as if this were some NYC street. I wanted to get out and tell them to chill the fuck out, this is the Berkshires, slow your roll.

Unlike those out-of-state heathens, I took the road less traveled and attempted to park in the always-empty back lots. Some people feel the need to park in between the shops where there are about 45 spots total instead of walking 50 feet to the lots where there are probably 1,000 spots. I'm not one of those people. As I pulled into the mega lot I noticed that ALL of the spots were taken, and the CT, NJ and NY plated cars were pushing and shoving their way into spots the instant they became vacant. I took my cue and hit the road, sans new shoes.

My next stop was the Berkshire Mall, completely on the other side of the county. Well, at least the other side of Pittsfield. I feared that the mall would be more of the same, but remembered that people don't come from anywhere to shop at that ghetto mall. My hunch was correct and there weren't many people there.

I thought I'd check out the discount shoe joint just to see if they had one of the two models of shoes I desired. They didn't. My next step was the shoe store where the employees dress like referees and get an attitude with you if you have to try on a few different sizes. Sorry, some of us like our shoes to do more than match our clothes. One peek at the price on the shoes I wanted and I hit the bricks. $20 more than I've found them online? I think not. Come to think of it, I should have just tried them on to find out exactly what I wanted, then tell them I'm waiting for "them new orange joints to come out" and leave. I think people still talk like that.

So that part of my day was unproductive other than it got me out of the house. I proceeded to watch a movie on TV while waiting for it to hurry up and rain. I knew it was only going to rain once and only for a little while, so once it was done I could go back outside and get my fitness on. As night drew near, I had to say "Eff it" and just go out.

As is always the case when I ride my bike, I had to figure out where to go. There are a few rides I'd like to take but due to time constraints (and my ass can't take that horrible saddle for more than 30-something miles) I still couldn't try any of them. Once again I was going to ride out to the Rail Trail, take that all the way to Adams and head home. It's nothing special, but it's relaxing and primarily off the road.

1/4 of the way to Adams I crossed a road and was about to ride along Cheshire Lake when out of nowhere a wolf-looking dog emerged from the brush. He looked slow, but not slow enough. In a pinch I could probably propel myself to 40 MPH when going downhill with a tailwind, whereas a dog can lunge at my throat in any conditions. I turned my bike around, turned up the road I just crossed and finished out my ride on Rte 8. I'd rather take my chances with traffic than contend with uncontrolled dogs. Besides, if I get hit on the road at least the driver won't get out and eat my delicious organs.

The ride to Adams via roads is very different from the ride on the Rail Trail. The trail, as its name implies, is an old railroad route. They didn't have hills to climb and valley down which to careen. Nope, they leveled that shit out to make engineering those cars much easier (and safer). While the northbound ride (to Adams) on "The Trail" is smooth and downhill, the Rte 8 equivalent has hills and bends and intersections. I toughed it out and made it there without any problems.

Once in Adams, I pointed the A-bike toward the Rail Trail and headed for home. There were a lot of people out which made maintaining high speed difficult but also offered a sense of security in the fact that there weren't wolves wandering an empty path. Unsure of where that wolf-like dog might be, I stuck to the road once I got halfway back (the trail crosses the road, so it's an easy switch). The clouds had already wreaked havoc on me and were beginning to thin out, so I just pedaled my sweet ass home. A few chocolate chip pancakes later and I was passing out in my recliner. Ahhhhh!

Today seems like exactly the same day as yesterday. It's cool, dreary and constantly threatening to rain. A surefire way to make sure it rains would be to either suit up for a run/bike/paddle or get that fire started out back. I still have piles of branches left over from last fall that I want to be rid of, but it seems that it's always either windy or rainy, or been dry for too long for me to build a fire. Oh well, if it comes down to it I'll just split some of my good firewood and get the old fireplace a-roaring instead. It won't help get rid of yard waste, but it's a pleasant way to spend an evening.

That's my yesterday in a nutshell.

Over and Out,
Old Coot