Campy Girlymann Rides Again

It was going to be a tough day. The wind blowing one way and the other, Mexican Monkey kept his wheel from crossing mine, which was better than he usually does when out on a ride. We were hoping to go up Old Topanga to put a little hurt in the ride but the Monkey had ate something that wanted out in the worse way. We made a pit-stop at the Corner Bakery before the climb. Filled with a hearty breakfast just before the ride, we had all the carbo needed for the day, possibly two.

Back on the road, the Mexican Monkey was a bit lighter and ready for some tough hills.  Up ahead of us was a large, I mean really big man in an orange jersey, Campy Girlymann felt confident of once more regaining his title and saw with blob of orange marmalade an easy challenge. Yet the blob was still in front. Campy waited, looking for a sign of fatigue.

Near Old Topanga, we caught the orange man, he was big, bigger than Campy and Campy Girlymann didn't think they came much bigger than him but here was proof, Big Orange, for he had orange rims with a white bike. The bike was Italian and with nice lines. We stayed together for the turnoff, Campy thinking Big Orange would not be heading up Old Topanga. The first section of the climb was the hardest. Steep not far from the turn and stays that way for almost half the climb, actually getting a bit steeper before it begins to flatten out.

Big Orange talked to Campy, "Well, it looks like the big guys are in back again.' We were watching Mexican Monkey take off ahead of us, soon to leave our sight around the next curve.

I laughed, thinking, 'Yes, indeed, and to think I did this climb in my big chain and left Mexican Monkey far behind, but not now. No, now Campy is fat, out of shape and Big Orange on his wheel.'

I wondered if Big Orange knew who he was talking to? Did he know? Know of Campy and his feats of strength and endurance? He seemed to think I was one of him.

He suggested I drink some water. I thought of shooting him. He fell behind on a steep curve but soon returned to ride next to one of the greatest riders known in cycling, Campy Girlymann. And the fucker didn't even know who the fuck I WAS.

This was so humiliating, Big Orange thinks he can give advice on climbing to a god of cycling. I thought of running him off the road, throwing one of my donuts in front of a oncoming car and see if he would take the bait. And I would too if I had one. At the top, we came in with Campy just a wheel ahead, his lungs blown out, his ass sore and his tail tucked well between his legs. Big Orange said something about enjoying the rest of the ride and went back down.  

Which was my plan up until then and so, after a good wait to make sure Big Orange was well on his way, we went back down and headed home. Mexican Monkey couldn't wait to tell of Campy's latest setback, but I'll get even, I always do.