Brandy's anyone?
When class get's out at 10 am, and my mind is worked over from trying to understand Int'l Econ in a Swiss Accent, I needed the bike. I needed it so bad, I didn't even stick around to hear the end of the lecture. When the clocked hit 10, I had come for what I payed for, and I wanted out. Spring had officially set in, and everything seemed in order for a perfect quick jont on the bikes before Managerial Accouting at 1:30.
I was out the door, spandex clad and determined to not let anything get on my way. On my way to the major road out of town I swung by the local bike shop to snag a new computer - thanks to the rigorous riding in "Tour de Czech Rupblic" a few days before. With the computer in hand, I stepped out of the shop to droplets of rain. I mumbled a few words that I'm not too proud of and probably louder than I would have if I had been in a country where those words could be understood. I saddled up and decided to work of the frustration on the bike. Furious at the chance of rain, I stormed out of town - and by the time that the pain overode the frustration, I was hit with a more serious problem. There's a certain smell I've only experienced in the poorest areas of South America. I came to associate this smell with something called a "matadora". A place where animals are killed for a variety of reasons. Who knows if there was one in the area, but the smell was so intense right outside Celakovice, that I forced a '180' right back towards the city. As the smell faded into the background, I decided on a new route.
Within a few minutes I was off and pumping. Things were great! I had gotten what I came for. Once I was outside of the normal jog route and into new territory, things were getting by the minute. It became a game of "how early do I want to get back" Of course, as temptations go, I would continue riding through the next 3 towns. The second sign I saw was "Lysa Nad Labem". I had heard it was a cool town, and 7 kilometers didn't seem like too much. I was there in no time, and the next sign popped up, "Brandy's N.L" (Nad Labem - or by the river). I was off. But this one wouldn't be so easy. I stopped to ask a few people which way to go, as the signs were all contradictory. I went a total of 5 different directions (possbile only in the Czech Republic). Each time, I ended up in the wrong direction. And after the second attempt, the rain began. I thought I would be OK, as I was sure to find the right direction soon. The rain picked up, as did the gravity of my mistakes.
My original plans of returning within 1.5 hours faded quickly. But, as a male, I was determined to find Brandy's. Each mistake was larger than the last. On the last attempt, I headed 12 kilometers, down a hill, in the wrong direction - which meant a long, wet ride back up.
The worst part was the puddles accumulating in the middle of the road. Not much shoulder room in the CZ, so any car that passed was sure to send something my way - but in defense of these crazy peeps, they are courteious to bikers. Runners are a different story, but bikers are good just about anywhere. I would love to teach the Americans a little about this, but then again, I would hate to give up the courtesy to runners...so we'll call it a draw.
So I'm soaked and worried about being late...adrenaline starting to pump. I want to finish with a miraculous story about finding a beautiful road, sunny and dry, to Brandy's. Unfortunately, I pedaled the same damn course I had followed to get there. Frustration, water and andrenaline combined to get me back pretty quick. Soaked and hurried, I lumbered back into the CMC and up to the 5th floor. I had 10 minutes to spare - grabbed some food and a shower and I was off to class. Heart still pumping.
If I could claim that this was my only run-in with the male ego and the Czech road system, I would be proud. Although it's the first on the bike...I have now had virtually the same thing happen 4 times. All the previous involved running through the mud, snow, government safe guards and forests. I'm getting all to used to hustling back for class from the nooks and cranies of north-east Prague. Either way, there is nothing more satisfying that getting back in one piece and feeling like you've survived something you weren't supposed to.
I was out the door, spandex clad and determined to not let anything get on my way. On my way to the major road out of town I swung by the local bike shop to snag a new computer - thanks to the rigorous riding in "Tour de Czech Rupblic" a few days before. With the computer in hand, I stepped out of the shop to droplets of rain. I mumbled a few words that I'm not too proud of and probably louder than I would have if I had been in a country where those words could be understood. I saddled up and decided to work of the frustration on the bike. Furious at the chance of rain, I stormed out of town - and by the time that the pain overode the frustration, I was hit with a more serious problem. There's a certain smell I've only experienced in the poorest areas of South America. I came to associate this smell with something called a "matadora". A place where animals are killed for a variety of reasons. Who knows if there was one in the area, but the smell was so intense right outside Celakovice, that I forced a '180' right back towards the city. As the smell faded into the background, I decided on a new route.
Within a few minutes I was off and pumping. Things were great! I had gotten what I came for. Once I was outside of the normal jog route and into new territory, things were getting by the minute. It became a game of "how early do I want to get back" Of course, as temptations go, I would continue riding through the next 3 towns. The second sign I saw was "Lysa Nad Labem". I had heard it was a cool town, and 7 kilometers didn't seem like too much. I was there in no time, and the next sign popped up, "Brandy's N.L" (Nad Labem - or by the river). I was off. But this one wouldn't be so easy. I stopped to ask a few people which way to go, as the signs were all contradictory. I went a total of 5 different directions (possbile only in the Czech Republic). Each time, I ended up in the wrong direction. And after the second attempt, the rain began. I thought I would be OK, as I was sure to find the right direction soon. The rain picked up, as did the gravity of my mistakes.
My original plans of returning within 1.5 hours faded quickly. But, as a male, I was determined to find Brandy's. Each mistake was larger than the last. On the last attempt, I headed 12 kilometers, down a hill, in the wrong direction - which meant a long, wet ride back up.
The worst part was the puddles accumulating in the middle of the road. Not much shoulder room in the CZ, so any car that passed was sure to send something my way - but in defense of these crazy peeps, they are courteious to bikers. Runners are a different story, but bikers are good just about anywhere. I would love to teach the Americans a little about this, but then again, I would hate to give up the courtesy to runners...so we'll call it a draw.
So I'm soaked and worried about being late...adrenaline starting to pump. I want to finish with a miraculous story about finding a beautiful road, sunny and dry, to Brandy's. Unfortunately, I pedaled the same damn course I had followed to get there. Frustration, water and andrenaline combined to get me back pretty quick. Soaked and hurried, I lumbered back into the CMC and up to the 5th floor. I had 10 minutes to spare - grabbed some food and a shower and I was off to class. Heart still pumping.
If I could claim that this was my only run-in with the male ego and the Czech road system, I would be proud. Although it's the first on the bike...I have now had virtually the same thing happen 4 times. All the previous involved running through the mud, snow, government safe guards and forests. I'm getting all to used to hustling back for class from the nooks and cranies of north-east Prague. Either way, there is nothing more satisfying that getting back in one piece and feeling like you've survived something you weren't supposed to.
posted by gjacob at 12:12 PM
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