met BH at the bridge. saw folks there from the Tuesday morning sprint workout. They were ‘headed to Jersey to meet up with folks’…fast forward 15 minutes.
BH and I are rolling down Haddon ave. We go under that one highway and I note a car pulled over with a full bike rack on back. Dude standing next to car is wearing a beat up soccer jersey, looked like he had a lot of acne, looked like he was looking to maybe trade some bikes for some rocks.
Thoughts tend to take extra time to coalesce in the morning on the bike. I’m like, hmmm, I wonder if the sprint workout folks are meeting up with those guys. Then, I’m like duh, that dude is totally selling hot bikes. Then I’m like, shit, I have like 5 dollars on me right now.
Rolling on a hot bike though? Not so good karmically.
60 miles later, I come over the Longport bridge. As I roll into town, I’m pretty sure that I see Pat Croce on a bike with time trial bars heading the other way. I briefly consider spinning it, speeding up next to him, yelling ‘AVAST YE PIRATE!!!’, spraying him with my water bottle and then peeling off to see if he could keep up.
I’m pretty sure that would have ended with me getting tossed off the Longport Bridge. Perhaps next time I’ll get brave.
Next day, I rode around on some back roads. I love South Jersey.
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And let’s not forget that we saw Pat Croce on the beach the very next day, hangin’ wit his boiz.
dude has an entourage like his name was Vincent Chase.
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