I Believe!

I've been batptized into a new faith community that meets at the Carousel in Riverfront Park at 8:30 on Sundays. Their Kool-Aid is pretty tasty and today my spiritual advisors had me laced into bowling shoes with a beer in my hand by 11:00 am. I used the bowling shoes to wreak minor havoc on some neatly arranged pins, and the beer to wash down a big plate of eggs, bacon, hashbrowns and toast.

We've all come to know Jon and John as men with great cycling plans, but I think this time they may have outdone themselves. This latest scheme involved a ride to Valley Bowl to take advantage of their Sunday morning special that includes breakfast and three games for 9 bucks. Hey, if you can't have fun on your bike, why even ride? We naively envisioned we'd have the place to ourselves . . . that they'd welcome this sweaty, motley, two-wheeled crew and its infusion of chump change into their empty coffers with open arms. Truth is, there was barely room for us. Apparently Sunday morning breakfast and bowling is a major big deal. Who knew.

Wade cruising in on his rad new 29er:



Locking down the hardware:



We did land a lane and eventually scored our breakfast platters. In the 20-some years since I last bowled, technology has changed the game just a little. The balls still have three holes in them, but no more goofing around with score sheets - it's gone electronic, complete with virtual fans . . . cute, flirtatious bowling groupies and rock-hard dudes with bowling tats. And, oh yeah, hard-ass pissed-off bowling pins.



Here's a sample of what you might have seen on Lane 20 this morning:





We all had our share of gutter-balls. Wade's just happened to get caught on video:



Patty wasn't about to miss out on this bucket of fun:



But just so you don't get the idea that we're a bunch of slackers, John did make us ride over the top of Arbor Crest Mountain on the way to the bowling alley. (No, we did not stop for mimosas. Please. We are highly-disciplined cyclists.)



I pulled both hamstrings and dislocated one shoulder while bowling, which is gonna pretty much end my promising cycling career. But on the flipside, I bowled the best game of my life, a 149. As Wade pointed out, I'm basically halfway to a perfect game. So I think I'm gonna throw myself into this bowling thing. I may continue to dabble in cycling, if I have the time.

Hard to believe that five drunk bowlers on bikes could get lost on the way home?



Ye of little faith.