We should all be so lucky as to have a ‘W’ ride.
For those who have been following my good friend Aaron for a while now, you might already know what I’m talking about. He has a favorite ride, or rather destination, and its Wayzata. Home to a rather friendly Caribou Coffee and an irritable cop known as Mr. Mustache, he and I have often ridden out to the W – stretching our legs on McGinty and rolling past the store fronts (not through the stop signs). From Wayzata, you can either go huge or simply get a coffee and spin home.
It’s got a lot of possibilities.
Currently I am grinding out miles in southeastern Wisconsin. I too have a “W ride” down here -Wauwatosa. Specifically, it takes me to the Cafe Hollander, where mid-base-ride beer and mid-base-ride sweet potato fries await. Today the weather was perfect for it: 42 degrees and cloudy, with a brand new bike to shake down.
Really, W rides aren’t about towns that start or end (or even contain) the letter W. And “W ride” is a stupid name, you really should come up with something better. They are a training tool, I use them to keep from getting burned out on the routine of endless base miles or group ride after group ride. They blend training with recreation, mixing the things I love (full disclosure: I usually started drinking my recovery beer while riding the trainer). Go find your own, keep it in your back pocket and pull it out whenever you need to get back in that mental saddle.