I try to ride at least once a month with a group who call themselves 'The FOG Dwellers'. Depending upon who you ask, 'FOG' either stands for 'Fat Old Guys' or 'Fu&#ing Old Guys'. Either way, these guys are strong and fun to ride with. They are a consistent 30+ miles each Sunday - all year long, in any weather - with a strict departure at 7am from the Java Hut in Fairfax. The leader of the pack is a guy called Scott. He's an avid commuter, total gear head and sponsored by the local Sunshine Bike shop. Joining us on today's ride were two other regulars, Scott and 'Iron' Mike and a newbie, Noah, the son of the owner of Sunshine Bikes. This was Noah's maiden voyage with the Dwellers - his father was one of the founding members some 10 years ago. Noah is a big kid (my height but not my girth), avid mountain biker and, oh, only 13 freaking years old. It took some balls for Noah saddle up with us for his first road ride over White's Grade. He did a great job and will be a complete stud in a few years. It is with the FOG Dwellers that I rode in my first pace line. And we got to share that distinction with Noah this morning.
This morning's FOG ride started out with a bang, literally. At the top of White's Grade, I dropped my chain and had to pull over to get back going. Five hundred yards later, Noah hit a piece of glass an his rear tire exploded. Scott and the crew were quick to blame Noah's dad for over-inflating the tires. While we stopped to change Noah's tube, I snapped this picture.
|This big boy grazed the entire field by himself.|
|Entrance to Samuel P. Taylor Park|