Promised Bike Stuff

Yesterday I experienced agony like a dog in a couple ways: I was suffering the final effects of some dread allergy crap that felt like flu, and just to shake things up, I rode the breathtaking Eddy Merckx over the ridiculously steep hills south of my hometown that are like the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact -- positively not good for a Polish man like me. (They're not good for any man, really, but I had to work in my learned reference to the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact.)

Today I rushed home and hooked up the exquisite Burley D'Lite and towed my fat-ass little fifteen-month-old son behind my gorgeous K2 mountain bike for ten miles. Did I ever mention how much I despise people who spend $500 for a bike trailer and only go around the neighborhood? I towed that little bugger until he fell asleep from exhaustion; I imagine it's awfully hard work sitting in screened, plush comfort with toys while I slave away pulling his girth about.

And did I ever mention that that chick from that cycling website was right -- the way I afford the multi-thousand clam bicycles I ride (and the trailer my son rides, the cost of which could feed Burkina Faso for a week) is that I have a trust fund that could feed Burkina Faso for a millennium?