Quick primer* on rain coats (and rain pants) on bike tours. Every time i put my raincoat on, it stops raining. And then at that point that one becomes overheated, I take it off and… well, you get it. Or it’ll downpour on me. I’ll put the jacket on for warmth. Then it’ll stop raining and hocus pocus, abra cadabra, b! Point is, you don’t need one and you do need one at the same time. Comparisons are futile.
I wake up on the basement couch; I’m literally a subterranean version of Steven Wright in Half Baked. I remember what year it is. I remember staying in a red roof inn in nearby Dayton Ohio a decade ago (nearby via motor vehicle or private jet standards, anyway). The app on my phone notifies me of nearby lightning. It’s 5:15am and I can’t see shit outside from within this bomb shelter of a basement, but I can tell it’s raining quite hard up there.

There’s Gatorade in the fridge but I’m not a plant, so crave it I do not. (Fact: there are few electrolytes in Gatorade 🌽 ). I eat a banana, then I 💩 . There’s an entire bike shop down here with me. I think I feel relatively safe from the tornados that are or aren’t actually happening outside. But security is probably just neurons firing in your brain releasing certain chemicals. Where would we run and hide if, for example, there’s no more clean water to drink? Also, I’m not wearing a condom in this moment. Point is, we’re never safe. The weather men + women + technology keep their places despite failing lavishly, day in and day out. That’s security I guess. Like how politicians don’t do anything but seek reelection. I resign myself to riding through a storm that’s forecasted at a 90% chance on the hourly breakdown. This is all before a remarkable cup of Sunday morning joe in good ol’ Cedarville, Ohio.

More 💩 just 2 miles in. Much love and respect goes out to Angela’s Breakfast, Verve Coffee, and all the public restrooms with toilet paper along Ohio trails (in that order). I have my raincoat on from 2 miles ago. It’s humid so I take it off.45 miles of hauling ass later and the fucking sun is out. The dissipation of the 90% likely storm came about slower than the speed I was moving… but I seen it! Speaking to the sun can be a healthy exercise. Think of it as positive reinforcement of good weather. The power of intention. The most ballingest shit you can do! It works. The clouds are gone, and I’ve a slight tail wind. With the rail trail to myself, I average 18 mph and suddenly I’m now on the outskirts of the state capital. Of course, getting into the city even on a Sunday proves challenging and it takes me another 3 hours to go the final 15 miles of today’s ride.

I’ve been offered a place to stay by my good friend and business colleague, Al. Al is one of the most intelligent and creative folks I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. We’ve been acquainted for 20 years, and I’ve worked as his exclusive booking agent for the last 5 years. Al professionally goes by the name Blueprint, and he creates deeply resonating music, books, and films. He runs his own record label and has quite a dedicated following. He also produces and hosts a very successful video podcast entitled Super Duty Tough Work.I roll up to his place and we get to catching up before hitting the Whole Foods so I can restock on trail mix. We discuss the conflicting dynamics involved in yoga pants. We record an episode of his podcast and I get to run my yap about whatever people think is interesting about me. It’s a lot of fun. I pretty much camp out in his basement, which is becoming a theme. I dose off on the futon (fuck yo couch) in his studio with my phone still in my hand.

* have you really read that book already — ain’t it good?

** for extra credit how many Dave Chappelle references can you count?