As I get older, I think it's overrated. It's hot, dusty or muddy, and my feet don't always like the long hours of plodding and standing about.
This year, I feel like Paul and I mastered Bonnaroo.
We both got our long rides out of the way on Thursday, leaving the rest of the long weekend open to shorter, more social rides. Paul did a century, while I did fifty miles, on very little food so I could be at a low weight for my final weigh in for a weight loss competition. Thankfully, Paul was on his way home from town with a giant sandwich and half gallon of chocolate milk for us to enjoy.
Other keys to our better-than-normal Bonnaroo experience:
Crap bikes to ride as far as we could, then lock to the fence. I'm fairly certain this is part of what saved my feet. I will never argue with a chance to trade steps for pedal strokes. Plus there was less... harassment.
This is me vegging at Dawes before I started tossing my cookies because of the sulfurous water and cherries that went bad in the locker. |
This is not our locker. This is the Bad Luck Locker. |
Those things, as well as my newer Chacos with the cushier sole, made the weekend feel easy.
When Bonnaroo feels easy, in spite of feeling lousy following the water/cherry poisoning, getting in a good short ride is easier. EVERYTHING IS EASIER.
In my next post, learn about the amazing bands I saw :)
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