40 at 20 #9 – Bid-ness in the front, par-tay in the rear

The 40@20 is back, and at a record pace! After a few weeks delay (during which ride participation was a bit uneven, to say the least), we finally got a reasonable crowd together to go for a ride from corporate HQ.  In case you have forgotten, the 40@20 is our regular Wednesday night group ride, featuring 2 county line sprints, a couple hills, lots of smack talk, and the goal of riding 40 miles at a pace of 20 miles per hour.  Our man with the silver pen, Randy, has again provided the recap for your reading enjoyment:

After a midseason siesta to rejuvenate the riding spirit, the 40@20palooza fired up its 2-stroke engine with an angry kick-start and let out a snarl to warn mother earth her terra firma was about to become terra infirm. Seven, seven-eleven riders–thankful for a late day front that dropped temps into the lower nineties—singled up from the start and settled in to a pace that could only be described as blistering. McCarter was our leader, and his demon-fueled fury on the pedals had Baker breathing like Vader well before we needed a ShamWow to absorb the sweat from our brows. It was quickly noted that the chatter was nil, and I could swear I heard the melody of Business Time humming from Eichvalds’ deep dish Zipps as we motored the rollers of Lamont Norwood and made our way onto what had become during our riding furlough the worst road in the state. River Rd looked like a training ground for how to catch first, second and third in a Trans-Am equipped with asphalt piercing Goodyears and cherry bomb-dropping twin exhausts. Pot holes the size of John Candy, sand pits deeper than Descartes, and road kill at 10 meter intervals had us all thinking we’d time warped to the 2010 Cross Crusade. McCarter ain’t a big fan of remounts, so he took the lead and hammered out of the war zone into the calm before the storm.

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