Going With Frita Fremont To Gateway Park To Mountain Bike Ride

This 1st Saturday of the 2nd month of 2013 is the first time my handlebars have been back on a mountain bike trail in quite some time.

For weeks, it seems, either ailing with respiratory woes, or the air being way too cold, has left me with no desire to do any pedaling.

But, today, with me feeling fine and the temperature in the 60s, I took off to Gateway Park to ride the Fort Worth Mountain Bike Association (FWMBA) trail.

It is beginning to become just a bit spooky how many times, of late, I leave my abode to find my mobile telecommunication device making its incoming call noise, to discover it is Frita Fremont calling.

I am starting to wonder if Frita has me under some sort of surveillance. Perhaps a satellite view letting her know when my motorized vehicular transport is in motion. Frita is quite the Smart Phone guru. Is there some sort of spy app tech geeks can avail themselves of?

Whatever the explanation is for Frita's uncanny calling, Frita talked me all the way to Gateway Park, with one short intermission to get gas.

I usually call my mom when I get gas, but due to the fact that I had to cut Frita off, in mid soliloquy, I said I'd call right back after I was done pumping.

I called back a couple minutes later which had Frita exclaiming that I was a fast pumper. I really did not know what to say, so I simply agreed that I am a very fast pumper.

I was very pleased at how well the bike riding went. I must have been pedaling at a high rate of speed, due to it seeming as if I reached various landmarks very quickly.

Now that I am back in bike mode, I must make a habit of it again.

When I was done spinning my non-motorized wheels, I spun my motorized wheels to Town Talk. I thought it would be exceptionally busy today with Town Talkers stocking up for the Super Bowl. However, I suffered no being crushed in a crowd sensations.

I think I am totally ready for my Super Bowl Party.

Now I just need to go to the bother of finding out who is playing. I know Beyonce is doing the halftime show. I am not a fan. I do not think I could name a Beyonce tune. I would prefer it be Nicki Minaj. Now, that would be some reliable entertainment. She could start by taking off with her catchy Starship song.

I currently have my computer room window open.

It gets old, this weather pattern in Texas in winter, a few days cold, a few days not cold, a few days running the furnace, a few days with the windows open.

Due To Danger You Must Not Smoke At My Neighborhood Chesapeake Energy Gas Pad Site

Today I opted out of driving anywhere for my daily salubrious endorphin inducing aerobic stimulation and instead, once again, took a walking tour of my neighborhood.

Soon upon leaving my abode my mobile telecommunication device made its incoming call noise. It was Frita Fremont. I'd not talked to Frita for a couple days.

So, Frita walked and talked with me til I got to my neighborhood Chesapeake Energy Barnett Shale Natural Gas Pad Site and saw a picture I wanted to take.

I told Frita I'd talk to her later, stuck the mobile telecommunication device in one pocket and took my digital photo taking device out of another pocket to take the picture you see above.

I am sure this sign has been stuck to this fence for quite some time. But I had not made note of it til I saw it whilst talking to Frita.

DANGER? NO SMOKING? PELIGRO? NO FUMAR?

What causes the DANGER? Is there some possibility that non-odorized natural gas may be leaking, un-detected, and thus pose an explosion risk?

Does the DANGER cease at the fence? Is there no DANGER across the street, at Albertsons? How about due west, at the apartment complex adjacent to this DANGER zone?

Non-odorized natural gas runs from the DANGER zone under the parking lot of the apartment complex due west.

If there is a chance of a leak causing a DANGER at the gas pad site, requiring a warning sign, why are there no NO SMOKING warning signs above the pipeline that runs under the apartment's parking lot?

I tell you, living in the Barnett Shale is very perplexing...

On The Tandy Hills Thinking About Frita Fremont & Cattle-Ranching Fashionistas

Since I'd not been on the Tandy Hills for 24 hours, I thought I'd go there, for the 3rd day in a row, to get myself some salubrious endorphin inducing aerobic stimulation, to work up an appetite before returning to my abode for a Thanksgiving-like turkey lunch, minus anything to do with pumpkin or stuffing or sweet potatoes.

Typing 'potatoes' had me remembering when we had a vice president who thought that word should have no 'e'.

I thought my personal Pacific Northwest trainer, Frita Fremont was going to call me whilst I was on the Tandy Hills today so she could do some virtual hill hiking with me and urge me to go faster up the hills.

Frita Fremont has diagnosed the reason for my malady, of the past couple months, as being caused by a decrease in the amount of exercise I usually get, in part caused by the water in my pool being too cool to pleasantly swim in.

So, Frita Fremont has prescribed amped up hill hiking and mountain biking for me. I am hoping this increase in activity will alleviate me of my bulging beer gut before April, when Frita Fremont is tentatively scheduled to fly to D/FW for a roadtrip to South Padre Island.

Changing the subject from Frita Fremont back to the Tandy Hills.

As you can see, in the photo above, via the view from atop Mount Tandy, looking west across the wagon trail that heads towards the stunning skyline of beautiful downtown Fort Worth, it is a blue sky Sunday in North Texas, with a bit of a smoggy, pinkish haze in the mix.

It is another semi-warm day, almost 70, at this point in the mid-afternoon. It is so warm that I have opened my computer room window. I don't recollect doing that in January before. I'm still not feeling cool. I really don't feel like turning on the ceiling fan. Or the air-conditioner.

Changing the subject again, this time to Cowtown Fashionistas.

For awhile now, on my way to Oakland Lake Park or the Tandy Hills, driving west on Bridge Street, by Nolan High School, I've noticed a billboard advertisement has replaced the former one about not speaking out of ones tailpipe.

The message now on this billboard is CATTLE-RANCHING FASHIONISTAS LISTEN TO npr.

I believe npr is National Public Radio.

Fort Worth is known, locally, as Cowtown. I don't know if that has anything to do with cattle-ranching fashionistas.

Is the point of this message that I should be listening to NPR because well dressed local cattle ranchers listen to public radio? And that I should want to emulate the local well dressed cattle ranchers? Who listen to NPR?

Would this billboard ad work in other towns in America? I'm thinking it'd make even less sense in Los Angeles, New York City, Chicago, San Francisco, Seattle or Miami. It might work in Dallas. Or Oklahoma City. Or Amarillo.

Okay, I am really starting to seriously over heat. Could this be that dreaded male menopause thing I've heard about? Maybe I should go for a quick dip in the cool pool.