THE GOOD THE BAD AND THE EXTREMELY UGLY

The good part first: it was a beautiful night for a ride. Lots of people, old friends, and future ex-friends. Temps were comfortable right until the last few miles when we felt the first chill of fall. It's a tough time to dress for - and be comfortable from start to finish - too many clothes at the start (yeah I overcooked) and you're doing the strip tease at the first stop sign. Too few clothes at the end and you're feeling the sting. So think about your wardrobe carefully for the next few weeks. Bring something to throw on for the last leg, and both legs, I think, might be the best bet.

I gwana punch you in the moofth id whut I gwana due.

The bad part of the ride ... yeah it was almost a throw down. In this corner, Surly Bastard going ballistic over an intersection roll-through that was way-too-close for comfort and safety's sake. It was a classic chin-music confrontation with a well-known roll-through-the-stops-and-get-any advantage I can veteran that I like to call "Hedi," 'cause he always go off the front and out of sight. If you recall I threatened a fire squad for this kind of dangerous riding a couple of weeks ago - so it's not like it's something new.

And in this corner ... Hedi, the master of the roll-through stop signs and stop-ahead sign sprints. We may never see her again. Dammit, she's just so damn cute the way she rode a bike.

Slayer protects himself from the flash in a rare "we all stopped at the stop sign" photo op.

Yeah, they'er stopping (above). Jeff held the ride together last night like a champ. Thanks Slayer. Job well done. Now about that fucking music you listen to ... s dude that stuff is whack! as the kids say.

Jurrien back at the HC. Happy to have all his skin and bones in place after a near take-down.

So after the a bunch of hooting and yelling that amounted to nothing, and one near clash of wheels that almost had the Ethiopian down, we made it safely back to the HC for some beers, some carp, and amiable Bastard Friendship.

A pretty good bike handler - for a triathelete.

Who almost took the Ethiopian down? Strangely he looked at lot like the guy above. Hey it's Chuck! Welcome back Chuck! Where have you been? Where did you get that savage tan? Where is the sleeveless jersey? The bare midriff? Long time no ride in weather this cold I'll bet.

Even an hour later I still had "anger in my stomach," the way cyclist do. I also had some Guiness in my stomach as well.

Bob multi-tasks (eats and talks at the same) and gives us the chance for another unforgettable Bob shot. Thanks Bob, you're the best dude!

Kahuna, having a good time all night and smartly staying out of trouble - but not out of Slayer range. Slayer recites lyrics to a song by his favorite band: Dying Fetus, and makes Kahuna's sick.

Kim T, Kenzie and Chuck. Hey let's get the band back together and save the farm!

Billing issues. Trouble at the register. Or just in her mind?

This little piggy had draft beer, this little piggy had fried carp, and this little piggy went wee-wee-wee all the way home.

While the service wasn't good, bad, or ugly, it sure was weird. The first question the waitress asked us when we sat down was: "Want anything other than water?" Well, yeah, that's why we came for - food and drink - we had water in the car. The thing that closed the deal on weird was that you had to go up to the bar and tell her what you had, and then she charged you for it. I was going to stick with the original order: WATER. It was almost Chaplinesque where the waiter looks and tastes the stains on the customer's tie and writes it down on the check. All I can say is "WHERE'S ROBIN!"

Here's the ugly.

I'm not going to say who ordered this dog's breakfast (Bob), but have you ever seen anything any more disgusting and ugly on a plate than this slop? Of course if you don't eat your greens you could end up like this ...

They let anybody in the HC, don't they? Even us, it would seem. Hey it's our friend George! Nice Vampire eyes, George.