The bike is good to go. I installed a new rear derailleur, chain, and shifters today, all SRAM. No bell though. I couldn't find one I liked. The bike is cleaner than it's been in years (not saying much) and everything has been inspected. Nothing could possibly go wrong...Right?
The clothes are in the washer and I'm starting to get all my gear together. Now I just need to stock up on some food, drink, and chamois cream. Anything else I'm forgetting?
I think I might make my goal for the race 200 miles. I don't really know if that's reasonable or not. I'd have to do 15 laps at an average speed of just over 8 mph. Seems slow I know, but I'm a pretty slow mountain biker. Actually, after some thought that's about twice as fast as I did the Arrowhead (with sleep) or 2/3 of my Dirty Kanza speed. Maybe I can do it if the course is willing.
I returned a book to the library unfinished today. Thomas Pynchon's V. wasn't doing it for me. It seemed too much like something assigned in a high school lit class. Well written to be sure, but I just couldn't connect with it. 100 pages in and nothing but party hopping.
Something I often look for in a book is that I can empathize with what is going on. I couldn't do that with this book. I didn't see any of myself in it. Now, a good book can make the alien seem familiar or the familiar seem alien and I can respect that, but this was just keeping the alien alien to me. Besides, the symbolism was a little bit heavy and that always gets me.
I decided to try the book because one of the blurbs on the cover of a Phillip K. Dick book I was reading called Dick a "poor man's Pynchon." Well, why not try the rich man's Pynchon I thought. I returned it and checked out another Dick novel.