The weekend was good but Friday night, besides being slightly embarrassing, threw off the entire weekend.
I had a drinking blackout. I don't really think I drank that much. Maybe 6ish beers and a shot of whiskey. Not really alot..
But you combine that with not eating all day, being a touch dehydrated and a nice amount of bike riding and....
Presto!
Blackout!
Lets start from the beginning...
Got home from a busy day at the shop where I didn't even really take time for lunch
I ate part of a cold Araby's roast beef that one of the guys had left over. So when I got home I was a touch hungry but figured after
Critical Mass I would grab a slice of pizza of something along those lines. Needless to say that didn't happen.
So I am home, I rinse and change, grab the Peugeot and my favorite bag and head towards to Plaza to meet up with CR since I figured I would have to jump in since I was running late.
I made a quick stop at the liquor store for a 12 of PBR and motored down to meet up with the crew.
As I rolled in to the Plaza from the south there were roughly 200 riders coming into the Plaza from the north. I slid right in to the back of the pack and weaved my way through looking for people I knew and just cruising along.
Pretty decent route this month, it covered alot of the city. When we got down in the River Market area I fell off the back expecting some kids to stop at the pier for a beer stop... no one did. This is when I noticed
Jones was off the back along with a couple of other fixie riders, apparently we all were expecting the same thing, beer at the pier.
So at this point we don't know were the group has gone... I expected that they turned and went back up hill towards downtown but I decided that I wanted to see if maybe they went down to the West Bottoms and to the pedestrian bridge that crossed the river to KCK.
So thats were I went.
I didn't really expect any one to be following me but anytime I thought I heard someone behind me I picked up the pace a touch more. Cause I was having fun.
I got to the bridge and was pleased to discover that both Jones and the two fixie guys (Ariel and Nate??) had tagged along too.
None of them knew the bridge even existed. Seemed like a good place as any to bust out the 12 pack in my bag. Besides I really didn't want to carry it back up of the bottoms.
We swilled down 3 a piece and shot the shit for a while. Then phones started ringing with people wanting to know were we were and why we weren't at the Flat Track races at Westport High.
So we loaded up and high tailed it up out of the bottoms to check out the race action.
Lighting had been flashing around the city the whole ride to the track. It got bigger about the time we got there. We witness some really fast flat track racing, several heats of 8 racers per.
Last one to cross the line each lap was out until there was a winner.
Some of those guys and gals were moving!
"Nutmeg" was pretty impressive and probably should have raced with the guys. She nearly lapped the field 3 laps in... damn that girl has some legs!
It had sprinkled on us a bit when I first arrived but it was nothing to worry about but then the skies opened up on us and the soaking began.
People were scampering for shelter everywhere only to find that there was none. A couple of fellas and I took shelter under a tree which was about the only thing around. Many people mounted their rigs and pedaled away.
I waited the rain out getting a good soaking which actually felt kinda good. The only items I was worried about were my phone and my wallet which I quickly stashed in my
Ortlieb bag.
The rain ended and people were pretty much gone. The couple of us that were still standing around all parted ways. Some for home to dry off, some to other places, where as I headed to
McCoy's were a couple of guys I know were DJ-ing as "13 Feet of Beats".
I got to McCoy's, locked up, stood on the deck and talked to a couple of people I knew while I rang out my gloves.
I grabbed a beer inside, said hi to 13 Feet of Beats and wandered around.
The bar was basically empty for a Friday night which ended up working to my benefit.
I remember having a couple of beers and chatting with a couple of people, listening to some tunes...
Then Keanon (one half of the 13 Ft) and I had a shot and thats pretty much the last thing I remember until the next morning...
I awoke with a start grabbing at my phone whose alarm was going off saying it was 9 AM.
I was freaked out and for a minute was thinking I was gonna be late for work...
and I had no idea where I was.
I looked around and I was laying on a mattress in a small room with walls covered with crayon marks...
"Where the hell am I?"
I jumped up quick and grabbed my shirt and shoes off the floor. I opened the door and poked my head into the other room.
Nope... still don't know where I am.
I crept slowly in to the room and then I saw someone I knew...
A server from McCoy's slept on the fold out couch with he adorable and very smart daughter.
She rolled over and looked at me with a smile...
"Well I see you are still alive."
Yeah... what the hell happened?
Apparently that shot was the magic drink my brain needed to shut the curtain on me.
I guess after that I was flying on auto pilot.
According to some witness I talked to later I was quite giddy and very polite. I stumbled around a bit but it wasn't overly obvious what condition I was in until it became nap time.
Once again thankfully the bar was dead.
I crawled under the DJ table and went to sleep while they were blasting tunes at fully volume.
Eventually I was pulled out by Keanon and the wait staff tried to talk me into a cab.
I refused to tell anyone where I lived.
Although I was being quite nice and polite to anyone that worked there according to
Keanon I got very belligerent with him while he attempted to get my drunk ass in a cab.
So I was left standing out side the bar where I guess I decided it was nap time again.
Chevy (a very nice server at McCoy's I had chatted with a few times) found me asleep next to the bike rack.
She tried again to get my address and get me into a cab. Both attempts I wouldn't go along with. Being a super nice gal she is she took a chance and offered to make out with me if I got in the cab with her.
Its pretty obvious what my decision was... I jumped in the cab... and promptly passed out again.
Left with few options Chevy took me home with her, which is were I woke up.
Saturday morning we hung out a little bit while she filled me in on what happened the night before. Then I decided it was time for me to go find my bike.
This is when I discovered that I was missing my favorite jersey that I had been wearing the night before.
I remembered before the blackout shot that I decided to change out of my Surly wool sleeveless jersey not because I was cold with being all wet (the wool was almost dry and super comfy) but because sitting in a bar at night in a sleeveless shirt made me feel like a dork.
I had hung it around my bag to let it dry a bit more before putting it in the bag where it would be safe.
I guess it never made it in the bag.
Chevy seemed to remember is still hanging out of my bag when we got to her apartment that night but it was no where to be found inside. I didn't find it on the stairs or out side the apartment anywhere either.
Damn... I love that jersey.
I wore it all the time and had been planning on wearing it most days at
RAGBRAI at the end of July.
It also had in the back pockets one of my
Evil caps and a brand new pair of gloves.... crap.
I walked the couple of miles from Chevy's place to McCoy's to unlock my bike, but they didn't have my jersey either, just my tab.
What a bummer.
I guess if thats the worse thing to come of the evening I will take it.
Hell I could have woken up in a bath tub full of ice missing a kidney.
Over all a slightly embarrassing evening but not as bad as it could have been.
A big thanks to the staff of McCoy's for putting up with my drunk antics.
Thanks to Keanon for not kicking my ass (he's bigger than me) for getting in his face
And a HUGE thank you and I owe you one to Chevy for taking me home compared to leaving me asleep on the street where I am sure I would have woken up in the drunk tank and missing more than just my favorite jersey.
This set the tone for the rest of the weekend but that is a diffrent story for a diffrent day.
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Good news! I found my missing gear!
