... my socks...
I wish you much warmth and comfort from the pair of 2014 Elephant Rock socks you removed from the fence where they were drying at Colorado Mesa University on Day 1 of the 30th anniversary Ride the Rockies. I know how irresistible they must have appeared, dripping wet but white as new because I'd just washed them, the snazziest socks in all of Grand Junction, just waiting to be worn. I hope the reason you made off with them is because you really need a pair of socks. A gorgeous pair of socks. A pair of socks you did not earn. The socks I'd planned to wear again for the Dirty Thirty three days later.
I hope the beauty of those used socks inspires you to get on your bike and ride. And do something good in the world, because what you did when you took my socks wasn't a very warm welcome to Grand Junction for me. It didn't leave a pleasant taste in the mouths of all the nearby cyclists who witnessed my emotions bubbling over when I realized my socks were missing.
And if you're sitting around, giggling because you pulled off something you think grand, I hope those magnetic socks you couldn't resist shock the evil out of you and make your toenails fall off. After they turn purple.
Barefoot in Bike Land
PS: Thank you for not taking my wet and drying shorts, jersey and towel or my sleeping bag, tent and water bottles. The rest of the tour would not have been fun without them.
... my shirt...
Dear Hotel Hospitality:
Thank you for cleaning the room I rented after Day 1 of the 30th anniversary MS-150. Thank you for cleaning it so well, the concierge couldn't find the 30th anniversary Ride the Rockies training T-shirt I accidentally left behind. I hope it fits you well, and I hope the reason you decided it had to be yours, even though you did not earn it, is because you needed a moisture-wicking T-shirt more than I did. I hope the memories it holds will keep you warm when you wear it, and I hope you get as many years out of it as I've gotten from my 10-year-old 2005 RtR training T-shirt, because I had intended to still be wearing the shirt you took 10 years from now. Because, you know, I earned it.
Not Naked in the North