Rode with the Gliders this morning. Things were pretty laid back during the first half. Boss Hogg, Skeletor, Publix, the Semi, the Parakeet, the Dad and the Kid were all in the mix. The Dad evidently used to race and is there mainly to introduce the Kid to group cycling. The Kid looks to be about 15. Anyway, the Dad mainly hangs back with the Kid but will occasionally go up to the front and pull away on these little mini-bugouts.

The Parakeet, I have learned is a triathelete. Skeletor despite being a nice guy is a big time wheel sucker and I have lost a little respect for him. He will Duetsche Bank it up by passing up turns at the front just so he can try to blitz you with his extra energy at the end. I'm not down with that. Publix despite appearing to be in his late 50's is in good cycling shape.

So anyway we are in the second half of the ride. We're doing double paceline and it's Boss Hogg and me at the front. Mentally I'm thinking I'm staying up here until Hogg says he's dropping back. It's dumb but his front running ways irk me. We just ride silently. I've given up on small talking to these people ever since my super awkward attempt at trying to talk to the Kid last week.

After the train tracks Hogg announces he's falling back and I do the same. Next up is Chestnut Hill. A big mama grade elevation by Gainesville standards. In truth it only takes a minute to climb but when I get to the top I can't catch my breath. This is normal for me on this hill but I hate the feeling. It's like drowning. I was leading the paceline going into the hill so I was already a little gassed. As a result Boss Hogg and sneaky Skeletor passed me going up it. Boss Hogg is a bad ass, I have to give it to him. Dude never even got out of his saddle, just dropped the hammer and pedaled away from me. Oh and a minute earlier the Dad had taken off on one of his mysterious walkabouts and was up the hill before everyone. Again the dude never left his saddle.

Anyway now we are in the home stretch down Millhopper Road. Six and a half miles to go. This older gentleman who is pretty cool but I don't have a nickname for is leading the way. He must be feeling frisky in the cool air because he normally doesn't exhibit this kind of stamina. He gives way to the Semi. The Semi is friends with Boss Hogg. He is a UF professor and he and Hogg talk about UF, breastfeeding (see last week's post), whatever. He hangs in there for a couple of minutes then I'm up. Just around the corner is the I-75 hill. So I'm just about to crest the hill and out of nowhere the mother flippin' Dad passes me. Now I'm tired. I've been pedaling hard for the past 3 minutes. I'm not some cycling superstar like the Dad or Boss Hogg with vacuum cleaner lungs, tree trunk thighs and blood supersaturated with hemoglobin. I'm just a middle aged pharmacist with an arthritic spine and a wonky prostate just trying to get some exercise. But on the other hand I'm the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse and I owe it to myself to try to catch this seersucker. So I rise up out of the saddle and start going hardcore. And a funny thing happens I catch the dude and start drafting off his ass. Then even stranger no sooner had he led his big charge then he pulls off to the side and motions for me to pass. I'm thinking what in the H-E double hockey sticks is going on here? What was that grand gesture of passing me all about if he was just going to punk out ten seconds later?

Anyway back to the ride. I go another 30 seconds and hand it off to Publix. At this point it's me, Publix and Boss Hogg. Two miles out Publix gets a flat. I slow down thinking we are going to stop and help him out, but Publix tells Hogg to keep going. Again out of the saddle I catch up to the Hogg. I tuck behind his wheel and follow him in. I must say the guy could have blown me out and dropped me like a bad habit, but he cruised to the end letting me draft him at 23-24 mph. We finished together said nice ride and went our separate ways.