sheep are great

Crack that ass!

2011-10-14T18:11:00.003-04:00

Had a nice ride around the woods with the work colleagues today. We've dubbed lunch rides on Friday's to be 'Mountain bike Friday's'. It won't be long before we are doing far more dirt riding than road riding.

Now I'm drinking wine and watching the budget scene from the movie Dave.

Lesson in Perspective

2011-10-12T09:21:00.002-04:00

I wouldn't say that the last week has been one of great enjoyment for me.

The most influential teacher of my high school years died.

Chris Mearns died.

I'm not over the death of my dog earlier this summer.

I haven't seen enough of my friends (That means you, Steve).

I'm facing another significant transition in life.

I clearly am rubbish at updating my blog. Maybe this post will be a warm up. And maybe going forward, I'll have happier things to talk about.

Basking in Ineptitude

2010-05-03T17:22:00.002-04:00

I've been doing a decent amount of riding lately. Not anything record breaking, but rather some long hours in the saddle. It's all sort of in preparation for the Etape in July.

Three weekends in a row incorporated rides that were either good distances, or simply lots of saddle time. In a last minute effort to keep up that pattern, I decided to join The Most Beautiful Man in the World on the Dyfi Enduro in Wales. It was set to be 47km, and after having a couple of big, hilly rides in the Peaks last weekend, I felt pretty comfortable with that length. All I needed to do was settle in to a pace that would allow me to last the duration.

I wasn't prepared. The amount of climbing was soul destroying. The descents were steep and technical, and a bad tire choice meant that I was on the razor's edge of disaster down every one. There was no time for my legs to recover. The downs were very hard work, and I was knackered after them. This didn't set me up too well for prolonged periods of churning up hills. The climbs were exponentially longer than the descents, and after every section of rapid altitude loss, there was a long, drawn out climb. I got bored going up. I got off the bike to walk just for something different to do; to use different muscles.

It's not the event itself that was the problem. Under different circumstances, I would have really enjoyed it. The issue is me. Were I in a better state of fitness, or if I could be a person who climbs well, I would have been faster. I could have gotten through the climbs like the 'normal' people on the ride. I wouldn't have gotten frustrated. I could have pushed myself without fear of blowing up, or hitting the wall. There were nearly 700 people entered in the event, and I think 95% of them were better equipped than I was. It's quite humbling.

I don't know if I'll do the Dyfi again. Yesterday pushed me to the edge of my mental ability to cope. I'm my own worst enemy, and I'm not good at just sucking it up once I've headed down that dark path of self-deprication. I would need to be at a much higher level of fitness, and things like life get in the way of being able to prepare for such an event. I know that it contributed to my fitness level, but I'm not keen to face that sort of mental challenge. I'm not a winner in those situations.

It's all a bit too fresh, at the moment. Maybe it's one of those things that will get better in a week, and I'll be excited about it later on. It was nice to hang out with Steve, but as of now that was the best part of the day. Well, that and the love I continue to feel for the Superfly 100. It's a shame that people have such negative opinions of 29ers, but that's a topic for another day.

Steve Makin, It Is Your Birthday

2009-09-15T17:14:00.002-04:00

So this post is pretty much entirely for SteveM, since it's his birthday, and he's been waiting for an update.

This doesn't mean that I have anything worthwhile to say, but I suppose I'll just keep typing and see what happens. Maybe I'll just talk about SteveM.

SteveM is one of my best friends in the entire world. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that he's one of the best friends I've had in my entire life on this Earth. The thing is, he got to be that way in a stealthy way. I can't even remember exactly when it happened. I just know that over a period of time, he became my hombre, my homie, my brotha frum anotha motha.

It wasn't too long before I realized that everyone loves Steve. He won't take that well, because he's far too humble to accept how valuable he is to everyone who knows him. He's the consummate friend. He listens, he offers advice, he encourages, he teaches, he reads poetry at fireside. He also absorbs the feelings of those around him and masks how stressed he really is so that he can be there for everyone else.

So Happy Birthday, Steve. I hope you see rainbows for many years to come.

Day 14-Cassiday

2009-05-13T21:26:00.003-04:00

Today was supposed to be a day of running around. First, take Cassidy to pre-school. Then, go back to the house and make breakfast. Oatmeal, of course. Next, go back and pick up Cass from school and then take Kim to work. Shop around in Trader Joe's for dinner provisions-and more importantly chocolate-and then take Cass shopping for a backpack for her first year of big girl school in the fall. Then we had some other things to do.

Things changed when we got word from Kim that she was getting off work early. Conveniently, we were just down the road when she made the call. So back round we went to fetch Kim, then home for lunch. By the time we were done with lunch, it was time to fetch Dylan from school. Then we did the backpack shopping, hot beverage buying, and email checking. At some point, the time became 5 and that meant I needed to start making dinner.

I generally try to make dinner at least once when I come to stay with Kim and Michael. They are both busy people and parents, and since they are kind enough to let me invade their lives, I try to repay the favor at least once by taking the pressure of dinner prep off their hands.

Of course, the two small children never like what I fix. They are always happy with chicken tenders and fruit, rather than the fancy schmancy spinach and sausage frittata with parmesan cheese that I made. I don't take it personally. It needed salt anyway.

Tomorrow I start ramping up for work mode again in preparation for 3 demos in a row this weekend.

Day 13-More Ohio, But With Less Hair

2009-05-12T21:31:00.004-04:00

Quiet day today. I woke up, did some emailing, chatted to some people, ate some breakfast.

I got my haircut. I wanted it to rest just above my shoulders, but the little stylist took off more than that. I say little because she was not a tall person. I was heads and boobs above her. She reminded me of one of our surf instructors in Costa Rica, I wanted to put her in my pocket!

Anyhoo, it hasn't been this short since Dan came to visit me during the Fruita Fat Tire Festival. I know this because he took a picture. But it's just hair, so it will grow back.

Then it was time for a mad rush hour dash to pick up Michael from work so we could meet up with Kim, the kids, and my favorite Aunt Betty. Cassidy is graduating from pre-school, see. It was a special day.

Day 12-Oh, How I Love My Cross Bike

2009-05-11T21:44:00.004-04:00

I planned to ride today, and ride I did.

Random had told be about some bike path stuff he did while he was here a couple of weeks ago. It included a path that is not too far from the house here. I did some research on Google Maps and found the path and the way to it.

I took the cross bike, just because. Once again I was rewarded for my choice by loads of little singletrack sections straying to and fro from the paved trail. It was so. Much. Fun.

I worked my way down to the campus of Ohio State University, which Michael says is one of the biggest schools in the country with it's population of something like 60,000 students. Wow. I knew it was big, but I didn't know it was that big. I continued from there towards the German Village, which Rando had also mentioned. I found a little deli and had some food before starting back.

Rider, meet headwind.

It was breezy when I left, and I could swear that it was in my face until I noticed some branches near downtown blowing in the same direction. This meant that when I started back, I was going to hit the wind head on. For a long way. It was probably 15 or so miles back to the house, with no way to really escape the gusts. I was worked when I started heading back, probably because in my glee I was turning the cranks pretty hard. I am completely tired now, and have that nice little leg burn that we all love in our weird, sadistic way.

The good, and completely unrelated news, is that Michael informed me that they now have wireless at the house. This spares me from having to go find a coffee shop to bring all of my readers, all 2.7 of you, your daily dose. I know how excited you are.

Kim arrives home late tonight, so tomorrow should be complete with many tales of her exciting weekend. I might ride my bike again.

Day 11-Columbus, OH Kim and Michael's House

2009-05-11T21:35:00.004-04:00

First morning waking up at the home of my cousin Kim and Michael (her husband, and that makes him family). Kim is actually down in Savannah, GA with her sister, my aunt, and my sister visiting Lauren. It was a surprise to Lauren that Ruth was going. We knew there would be tears. It wasn't a question of whether or not tears would happen, but how many tears there would be.

Anyhoo...I had a leisurely morning. I started by making some steel cut oats for breakfast, then sat outside on the deck enjoying the morning with my book (I was reading David Cullen's book Columbine, which revealed the events leading up to the massacre, and the errors that took place during the investigation a decade ago).

The plan for the day was to take the kids to the Columbus Museum to see a traveling exhibit on Egyptian burial rituals. It was good, but I was more impressed by the permanent exhibit of George Tooker's work. Amazing stuff.

The rest of the day was spent engrossed in the book to the point of finishing it. I ate some dinner, did some laundry, talked to Tori on the phone, and started reading the Idiot's Guide to 2012. It turns out that it's not quite the doomsday that everyone fears it to be.

The Maya had a cool way of writing numbers. It gave me an idea for another tattoo.

Day 10-Brighton, MI Island Lake Demo Day

2009-05-11T21:22:00.003-04:00

Demo day today. Island Lake Recreation Area outside of Detroit this time. This one was a big'un, and the whole East side demo crew was present: my pal Troy from Cannondale (who you may remember was part of the Costa Rica trip over New Year's), Ken our demo guy, Louis from GT, the Giant guy, and the Specialized guy. The local Jamis rep had his little trailer there, and there was a Scott Sprinter van present as well.

The weather was GREAT! For about an hour. Then the sky suddenly got very dark, and the rain began. It didn't really let up, and soon the bikes started coming back covered in cack. Troy had hooked up his hose to the back of the bathroom building, so I started washing dirty bikes as they came off the trail/road. This would prove to be a good move later.

At one point, we made a group decision to stop sending bikes out. Reports from the riders were that some parts of the trail were starting to pool water. The bikes were only going to get dirtier, the trails were going to get more rutted, and the inexperienced riders were going to face more risk of injury. The rain would let up, then start again. The packing up process began, with Troy leading the way. No surprise there. It doesn't take much for Troy to decide to call it a day.

Everyone else started to catch on to the hose. I had a couple of bikes left to wash, which was good because the last time I went behind the building, there was a rack of bikes and about 5 guys waiting around to wash bikes. Score one for planning ahead!

People were still trickling in wanting to try bikes. It's never easy to tell people no. I sent a couple of road bikes around, which I had to wash again, of course. I started to dry the bikes the best I could, and put on some chain lube to prevent rusting. The worst part of days like this is putting everything in the trailer while it's wet.

The sun reappeared around 4pm. The demo was scheduled to go until 5. Troy had his massive 43 foot trailer completely packed and closed up before anyone, and probably by around 3pm. Evan, the Giant guy, was close behind. I took my time and closed the door around 4:30. I stood around and chatted with Troy and Louis for a while before heading out. I had a 3 hour drive down to my cousin's house in Columbus.

No hotels for almost a week.

Day 9-Livonia, MI

2009-05-08T22:01:00.007-04:00

Time to pack and ship out, but first! a bike ride!

I spent the morning rounding up the various things I'd taken into my little suite. I tidied up the two-sided Dakine bag full of my clean clothes, put away all the foody provisions into the waterproof Rubbermaid storage container, put the dirty laundry into the laundry bag, rounded up the toiletries from the shower, packed my overnight bag with a work shirt and change of clothes for tonight's hotel, and gathered up Frazier's food and water bowls.

The cross bike went back into the trailer, the shoes were stored under the seats in the truck, or in little nooks in the trailer, the dog and food containers went into the back of the truck, the few items in the fridge were placed in the little cooler with the two trays of ice from the freezer, the few bottles of beer and wine that were left were carefully wrapped in paper and nestled into a box in the trailer, and various cables and leads were put into the small messenger bag.

Once everthing was ready to go, it was time to bid farewell to the Traverse Bay Inn. I'd like to say I'd stay there again, and I would, but next time I think I'll find someplace a bit closer to downtown, and maybe on the water side of the very busy road instead of on the other side of it, requiring a perilous road crossing to the shoreline.

Off I went to Brick Wheels again to meet up with Paula, the woman from last night who wanted to try the Madone. I got her bike ready with pedals and a quick once over of the gears, then got my bike ready and changed into some riding kit. A quick saddle addjustment later, and we were off up the peninsula that runs between the East and West Grand Traverse Bays. Stunning. The people who live in this area and get to ride here all the time are really very, very fortunate.

At some point we took a left so Paula could check out the bike on a hill. It was fairly steep. At the top we were greeted with rows and rows of blossoming cherry trees (this is a huge area for cherry orchards), and a vineyard on the right with a tasting room. Paula hadn't even finished making the suggestion that we stop for a tasting before I had my bike halfway turned around toward the driveway. I highly recommend mid-ride wine tastings. It reminded me of our little adventure in Napa during SSWC last year. This time, were in full riding kit. There's nothing quite like the shocked look on the faces of people who see riders clip clopping their way to the bar in a tasting room.

After the ride, it was time to get ready to head out of town. I had one stop to make at Jan's house to drop off a couple of bottles of wine I'd gotten for her as a thank you for the use of her back yard, and for her general kindness towards a weary road warrior.

Leaving Traverse City was not easy. What a great place. I was truly sorry to say goodbye.

Now I'm back near Detroit for a big multi-vendor demo tomorrow. Back to the grind.

Day 8-More Traverse City, and Women Drinking Wine At A Bike Store

2009-05-08T21:53:00.003-04:00

Let's see...Today started out pretty quiet. I caught up on some emails and forum posts while the rain moved away. Then I headed over Brick Wheels to check in and see if I could help get ready for the event. They seemed to have things under control, so to kill some time I headed to downtown Traverse City to check out the scene. What a great downtown area.

I went back to the hotel for some food, then set off with the trailer to get the rig washed up all nice and shiny for the event. My responsibilities were rather few: park the rig on the front lawn for maximum visibility, hang around the store and answer questions for the women. I helped fit a few helmets, talked about lights, installed one light, discussed bikes, and consumed some very nice late-harvest Riesling. People seemed to have fun, and the store sold some things.

I talked to a woman for quite a while who was looking at a Madone 6.5, or a Specialized Ruby. I wasn't going to be in a huge hurry to leave town, so I offered to meet with her tomorrow for a ride so she could really get a feel for the bike.

Tim Brick, the store owner, took the industry reps out after the event to one of the Mexican joints in town. Fortunately for me, mole was on the menu. It's been a while since I had a nice mole sauce, so it was a nice way to fill my belly.

That pretty much sums up the day.

Day 7-Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore

2009-05-06T22:47:00.003-04:00

Four hundred foot high sand dunes.

This is not something one sees every day. Maybe the Egyptians and other desert dwellers, but even they don't have the benefit of a massive body of water at the bottom.

Today I went to Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. It was recommended to me by several people, starting with my sister. I like sand, and I like waters. I from an ocean town, complete with dunes, but they are just little ones. I was intrigued by the idea of dunes so high, getting to the bottom wasn't feasible.

I started the trip on the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive. I'd spotted this on Google Maps, and it seemed like it offered the view I was hoping for. Bonus: it's still off-season here, so I didn't have to pay the $10 entry fee. Normally, I would have zero problem supporting a National Park by paying admission, but I'd left my cash back at the hotel so I was doshless. The drive is long, and has a bike lane the whole way round. I was salivating as the one way road undulated and periodically offered glimpses of the views to come. I arrived at the first parking area, which was on the backside of the lakeshore, and was one big set of sandy mounds.

I carried on around to the 'Views of Lake Michigan' lot. This is what I was after. There was heavy equipment in the form of front loaders (JCB's for my UK friends) that were scooping up the foot-deep sand that had blown over the path over the winter. A closer look revealed that there was still a significant amount of snow that was hidden under the sand. It made me wish I could see that place in the winter. The photo ops must be incredible.

Anyhoo...As I got to the top of the path, I saw Frazier descend over the edge. There were a couple of people on the viewing platform above me commenting on his movements.

"Oh look at the dog!"
"Uh! He's off!"
"He's going down!"
"Woop! Whoa!"
"Oooooh, it's all over now!"

I heard all of this before I even got far enough to see over the edge of the slope. By the time I got there, all I could see were his tracks. Then I realized just how high these dunes really are. Wow. I was both overwhelmed, and worried about Frazier. The slope carries on right down to the water. No ledges, fortunately. I looked down to the bottom to see if he was in the water. He wasn't. I tried not to panic, and took my mind off things by snapping a few shots. Still no sign of Frazier. More picures. Lots of whistling. Picture. Scan. Whistle. Then I started heading down the slope. Shit, those things are steep.

I was trying to take in the scenery, take pictures, and look for Frazier the whole time. At one point, I started to call him. I couldn't see him anywhere. I got about halfway down the slope and saw that his tracks had gone left at some point, then disappeared out of sight again. I tried to traverse sideways on the 45 degree bank. This was much harder than walking straight down. One more set of whistling and calling, then finally the people on the observation deck yelled down to me that he was back up top running around. Shit.

Going downslope was pretty easy. Trying to traverse was really hard. Scaling back up was downright painful. My legs were tired from yesterday's ride, and another ride I did this morning. The sand was loose down several inches, so every step I took slid about halfway back again. It felt like an eternity to get back to the top, and by the time I got there I was hot and tired and very out of breath. Frazier was back at the car already. At least he recognizes that as the rendezvous place. He was all tongue-flappy happy when I called him back to me. Thanks dog.

With the reunion over, I was able to focus on enjoying my surroundings. I spent quite a while at this first stop, then went off to explore elsewhere. Jan (the nice local lady) told me about this place called Pyramid Point. I found it on a map and headed there.

It was about a 15 minute hike up the backside of the dune, which was totally unlike anything resembling a beach. The landscape around here is amazing in the amount of different types there are.

Once again, Frazier got to the top before I did, and my efforts to call him back to try and get him on the leash before the apex were futile. I got to the view spot, and a man and his dog said that he'd gone down the slope. Again!? Geez! Oh yeah, another amazing view. Unbelievable.

This time, I saw Frazier waaaaaay down at the bottom, probably another 300-400 feet, in the lake. He was merrily splashing away and no doubt having a big drink. He was so far away that despite me being able to see him, I don't think his 11 year old eyes could see me. I just hoped that he could hear me, so I started whistling and calling again. The man with the dog chipped in with his more booming voice. I was hoping that I wasn't going to have to work my way down, then scrabble back up the second huge pile of sand of the day. Finally, F started to work his way back up. He was completely worked by the time he got to me. I got him on the leash and attached it to a sign post, and turned my attention back to the camera.

Then we went to a spot lower down so Frazier could have a proper swim, I could scour the beach for rocks to bring back to Ruth, and I could simply take in the scale of everything.

An outstanding day.

Day 6-The Joy of Riding A Cross Bike

2009-05-05T20:24:00.005-04:00

As the neon says on the hotel sign, YES!

I went for an ACE ride today! Let me back up...

I did some work this morning, then called the very kind Jan who offered to let me keep Frazier in her back yard. I took him over at noon and met up with Jan, who had ridden her own bike back from the office (this town is overwhelmingly bike friendly, and there are people on bikes everywhere). Frazier was happy to be outside and running around with Jan's two Golden Retrievers. I left and I'm not sure he realized I was gone.

Then it was off to an embroidery shop to get a couple of new shirts I bought logo'd up with the new Trek Women graphics. They should look pretty sweet. And cool. Literally, since they are DriFit.

At last, I got back to the hotel and prepared for a ride. I had planned to check out the rail trail that runs through town and then out along the western side of West Bay. I rode from this end of town, through the downtown area of Traverse City, then along the bay for a while before cutting in to the trail. This really is a nice bike path. At some point, the coast gets hilly, and the trail follows the old railroad bed between one set of hills, and another that lies west of that, near Lake Leelanau, another significantly large lake. It was gorgeous. I went through thick pine forrest, orchards, farms, and rolling hills of green, green grass. Eventually, the pavement ended and turned into double track. I was so happy to be on the cross bike. It made the ride so much better, and exciting. I loved having the right bike for a variety of surfaces, and not being forced to carry on via road.

I was a little conscious about the time. Jan had to be out by 6pm, and it was getting to be 4. I was hoping to go all the way out to Sutton's Bay, which would have been 40 miles or so round trip, but I didn't want to take advantage of Jan's kindness and keep Frazier there any longer than I had to. I cut back over to the paved road along the shoreline to speed things up. I got back just before 5, and headed to pick up F after a quick shower. 33 miles and change of mixed-surface, view-laden, cross bikin' lovliness. The only thing that would have made this ride better was to have you, my lovely readers, along with me. All 2 of you.

Frazier was rewarded with a nice swim in the bay again, and I had plans to reward myself with another self-made meal and some serious damage to the bottle of Moscato I had chilling in the fridge. I didn't have an opener, so after my ride today I went and got one of those cheap travel ones, instead of paying the 4 extra clams for a proper waiter's friend type.

I pulled, and yanked, and caused bones and tendons and veins to bulge out from my arm, but no amount of strength was enough to budge the cork. I gave up and unwound the opener. I heard a 'pssshhh' of air, which suggested that I'd poked a hole in the cork. For fun, I thought I'd see what would happen if I tried taking a swig. Lo and behold, with a little water bottle-like sucking action, I was able to extract the wine from the bottle.

I've now had nearly half the bottle via this method. It just doesn't get any more classy than this.

Day 5-Port Huron to Traverse City, MI

2009-05-04T21:56:00.007-04:00

I had a leisurely morning today. I set off for Traverse City around noon, and made a stop at a big outlet center in Frankenmuth. I wanted to check out the Nike store to see if they had any 6.0's around, and they did. A nice addition to my shoe collection.

It was another 160 miles to Traverse City from Frankenmuth. The drive was uneventful, and the temperature was cooler by 10 degrees when I arrived in town. The scenery changed somewhere along the way from flat and straight to suddenly hilly and full of pine trees. It reminded me of home, and a flatter Colorado with the added benefit of water. A great first impression, all in all.

My hotel lies on the edge of town, and directly across the street from Grand Traverse Bay. The first step in the arrival process was to back the trailer into a parking spot, and unhitch. This is an overwhelmingly liberating feeling. It's almost fun to drive the truck when the trailer isn't albatrossing it. Next, a treat for Frazier, who stuck with me through the drive and even put up with my shopping side trip. It took him next to no time to hit the water. He startled a couple of Canada Geese who decided to linger about 30 feet off shore. Frazier ignored them for the most part, but at one point he couldn't take it any more, and he started to head out after them. "Honk honk!", they protested. I was expecting him to start swimming and realize he couldn't make it to them, but he just kept leeping through the water. I realized that it stayed pretty shallow, and he was probably 80 feet away from shore before the bottom dropped. Fortunately, he then turned around and made the trip back to shore. I thought for sure I was about to get my feet wet to retrieve him. He is now sacked out on the floor, once again.

I read recently about how great dollar stores are. I passed one on the way in, and had heard that you can save a bunch of money on olive oil. I'd found a co-op in town, and since the hotel I'm in has a kitchenette, I started looking forward to being able to cook my own food. I went to the dollar store and bought olive oil for a song, a cheese grater for the parmesan I planned to buy, and some storage containers for any leftovers I might wind up with. Then it was off to the co-op for fresh produce, garlic, red onion, some sort of Japanese sweet potato that I never knew existed, various other things, and chocolate.

Outside of the store I ran into 3 people on bikes who saw the truck and started talking to me. I noticed that there are loads of people on bikes here. These people had plans to attend the ladies' night I'm here for later this week, so we got to chatting. They gave me some great local knowledge, including the fact that there's a rail trail that literally runs right behind the hotel and goes to some other bay for 15 miles one way. Then one of them offered to let me keep Frazier in her fenced in back yard so that I could go see some of the local attractions. Numbers and names were exchanged. Things are suddenly looking up.

Back to the hotel for cooking, and a nice veggie and chicken sausage stir fry later, I'm happily sitting here typing away with a belly full of veggies and rocket salad.

Day 4-Port Huron, MI

2009-05-03T20:01:00.005-04:00

Woke up in Warren again this morning with the intention of heading north 54 miles to Port Huron. I'd stopped there last year at a park located under the bridge to Canada, so that was the destination for the morning. Frazier got a nice swim in Lake Huron before Random kindly chucked the ball too far from shore, into the current. Despite being about 15 feet from the shore, the water was too deep and the ball too far for F's old legs to swim out. Another ball bites the dust, or floats away as the case may be. Friggin' Random.

We sat around in the park for a while just enjoying the day, then Rando's belly alarm starting going off again. We went into downtown Port Huron in search of food, and found a diner with outside seating and a sign advertising 'Steamed Burgers As Seen On The Travel Channel'. Result! We were sold on the steamed burgers after the waitress gave us the description of them. "The fat steams off but the flavor doesn't. And the white cheddar cheese is steamed as well, so the end result is that it's gooey." Who doesn't want to eat something described as 'gooey'!?

After lunch, it was time for Rando to head back over the border into Canadia. It was great to see him as always, and I truly appreciated the company. Thanks, pal. Can't wait to see you in the future.

I was at a loss for what to do next. I spaced and didn't make arrangements for tonight, so I wasn't sure where I was going to stay, or what my plan was for tomorrow. I thought about heading inland towards Frankenmuth. My mother recommended that. I looked around for a wireless signal to use the power of the internet, but couldn't find one. I wound up spotting a Petsmart and replaced the lost ball with a fresh one, and then saw a Barnes and Noble and killed an hour buying books, one of which was a Michigan guide. I went back to another lakeside park I'd seen so Frazier could have another swim with a new ball to fetch. Then I called around to find out which hotels allowed pets, and settled on the Comfort Inn. It was almost 6pm. Using the time to pick a shot of the day, write this post, read up on Michigan, and lounge around was more appealing that driving for a couple of hours into the unknown.

Not sure what the agenda is for tomorrow. I'd really like to do a ride along the water in the morning, and then I will probably head off in some direction. I have until Thursday to be in Traverse City, which is on the western shore of the State.

Stay tuned.

Day 3- Warren, MI

2009-05-02T20:31:00.002-04:00

Demo today. I just couldn't get excited about it. The weight of the economic impact on the US auto industry weighs heavily on this place. There are dozens of factories devoted to making cars and car parts. All of them look either desolate, or slowed down, or shut altogether. The feeling is accute. It's probably the hardest hit area in the entire country.

I found myself having a hard time being 'professional' today. Or maybe the better way to say it is that I was a consummate professional; providing a high level of service even though I was really having a hard time finding the motivation. I just didn't want to talk to people, mostly. But, I had to. So I did.

Random helped at the demo, even when a guy who just wanted to ask the same questions over and over again to whomever would listen, started asking him about 29ers vs. 26ers. This was one of those 3 day shoppers who just comes in for days to talk about the same things, but just can't commit to the purchase.

We were both more tired at the end than we expected, and plans to head north along the lake were scuppered from a combination of fatique and not finding a place that we were excited about for accommodation. We're back at the same hotel after a nice Italian meal at a local place, complete with Geezers Playing Poorly But Really Getting Into It.

Frazier enjoyed being outside all day, and he is now passed out on the floor.

Day 2-Buffalo, NY to Warren, MI, or How A Day Of Driving Can Still Be Crappy

2009-05-01T23:36:00.004-04:00

The first half of my day wasn't so ideal. Last night I picked out a spot that looked like it might be a nice place to take Frazier to the lakeshore for a swim. Conneaut, Ohio was the destination. Right over the Ohio State line, and a couple of hours after we set off. Just the right amount of time to drive before a pit stop.

The park was gorgeous, and had a really long beach to access the water. I descended the steps down the very steep embankment and started the walk along the long, wooden planks to the water's edge. There was a man off in the distance, probably two hundred yards away, moving debris from the beach with a tractor. I started to cut left along the beach, and noticed that he was driving towards me. He then pulls up alongside me to tell me that dogs aren't allowed. Shit. He suggests I go 'over there', but that they'll want F to be on a leash. Pfft.

I went 'over there', and Frazier somehow managed to lose a ball while pestering some Canada Geese. Crap. We left Conneaut after the dog had a chance to splash around some, and headed west along the lake towards Ashtabula. The coastline is pretty high, so there were few places to access the shore. I found another gorgeous park 8 miles down the road with prominent signs saying 'NO DOGS ALLOWED'. Thanks, Ohio. I gave up and continued back to the highway.

I feel like I am constantly battling Frazier's travel water bowl. I had it sitting on the arm rest of the truck, and at some point forgot it was there and knocked it over. It spilled out into my half-open messenger back. There wasn't much water in there, but enough to soak some mail, a bar of chocolate, and a few other things that could get wet and survive. The cleanup was a bit of a hassle, but what really made it go south was the bottle of ibuprofen that somehow managed to open while I was sopping up water, and of course most of the bottle spilled into the puddle at the bottom of the bag. I finally got off at the next exit to deal with the mess. Every time I put my hand in the bag my fingers took on a Moab-red color from the coating on the stupid tables. Shite.

I finally made it through the maze of highway closures to my stop for the evening: Warren, MI. Along the way I passed Eminem's hood 8 Mile. Wow. Scary!

The Random Canadian drove over from Canadia to spend the weekend with me. We had Thai food. The day ended better than it started.

Day 1-Departure

2009-05-01T23:27:00.002-04:00

I left home on a gorgeous, 75 degree day. I would rather have been riding my bike. The drive was pretty uneventful, other than driving into rain somewhere along the way. I stayed overnight just outside of Buffalo.

Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing remarkable. Oh, there was one fender bender in Albany that caused a bit of a slow down. Frazier stuck his head out the window a few times during the drive. Those are about the most exciting things to happen the whole day.

Appreciating What You've Got, When You've Got It.

2009-04-01T21:09:00.004-04:00

So I finally did my first road ride of the year at home today. I've got this little 12 and a half mile loop that's got some nice rollers in it. It takes about 45 minutes to ride it, or, it takes longer than that and I'm not as unfit as I thought I was.

Anyhizzle...It was the first hilly ride I've done this year. I've been riding around my parents' house, on the flats with constant headwinds for all of my rides so far. Now that I'm back home, I've decided that maybe I've missed the hills after all. It's not that my legs and lungs missed them, but the variety makes a nice change.

I got to thinking about the good and bad parts of riding in mountains vs. sea level along the coast. I realized that fighting those persistent headwinds in every direction, on roads with no topographical variation whatsoever, is probably pretty good for the pedal stroke. There's no real place to stop pedaling at the shore. There aren't any hills to power up, with descents to coast down. You aren't really resting. Ever. All you can do is vary your speed, depending on how aggressive against the wind you feel like being. Never, in my case. Except in 10 second bursts of 'Oh yeah wind!? Is that the best you got!!?', followed by a return to my senses, or a feeling of breathlessness.

Now that I'm back in the hills, I am enjoying that approach-to-anaerobic feeling, followed by the brief recovery period that follows on the downhill side. It makes a nice change of pace, literally and figuratively. I was thinking about some of the loops around here, and how much I dread the thought of going up some of the hills. But at least I have hills to dread here. And quite roads that provide periods of great views and heart rate increases.

I may sound like I'm slagging off riding at the shore. I am and I'm not. I love riding over to the coast and taking in the salt air. How could I not love the mid-ride stops at Mack & Manco's for a slice and a birch beer? And I do appreciate the end result of the strength I gain from the wind and the flats, even though it feels like the life is being sucked out of me during those rides.

It's hard to say what type of terrain I like better. I'm no great climber. I'm quite bad at it, actually. But I don't have the fitness right now to maintain a high pace on a 40 mile flat ride, either. At the end of the day, both types of riding have their place. And either type is better than no riding at all.

WIHP: The Catholic Edition

2009-03-17T21:18:00.002-04:00

Alright, at the risk of inciting violence, I'm going to go ahead and write this post because I just can't take it anymore.

As I was driving to North Jersey for a day of shop visits this morning, I was tuned in to NPR. It was the BBC News Hour, and the subject du jour was Catholicism in Africa: How Prayer and Denial Will End The AIDS Crisis, Honest*. I guess Pope Benny XV(%&@!^I is about to make his first trip to Africa to go visit the converted.

The Pope stated on the way over that the distribution of condoms is not a solution to the AIDS problem in Africa. Yet, the Catholic Church is at the forefront of the AIDS battle, and preaches that abstinence is the way to stop the spread of the disease.

Ok seriously, how can people believe this shite!? How can human beings still be so completely brainwashed and gullible that they are actually buying into the notion that the best way to prevent the spread of a sexually transmitted disease is to teach people to not engage in sex, and even WORSE, expect THOSE people to actually listen!? When is the Church going to wake up and face the reality that this method has never worked, not for the oh I don't know, 15 or 20 years that they have been telling the people of Africa crap that is going in one ear and out the other?

I am gobsmacked, again. It simply adds fuel to my ire, and convinces me that the Catholic Church is perhaps one of the most hypocritical and corrupt institutions on the face of the planet. It's ok to molest and abuse little boys, but you are absolutely not allowed to use a condom in the process, oh no. And people actually believe that if they don't follow Catholic doctrine, that the salvation of their souls is doomed to purgatory for eternity.

You know what? I'm going to go ahead and support the idea of condom distribution in Africa, if for no other reason than it might relieve some of the hell on EARTH that those people are living in in *this* life. I am so, so incredibly happy that I am not Catholic.

*May not have been the actual title of the story.

Let the Wonkiness Commence!

2009-03-05T19:08:00.003-05:00

Chipps is on deadline this week, which of course means he's looking out for anything non-magazine related to distract him from his deadlining duties. Out of such distractions usually come things like new guitar purchases, and moustache growing. But TONIGHT he presented me with the best news I've heard this month; this YEAR, I daresay!

He found this little tidbit:

From this blog post:

Lambs! Lambs! Ok, just one lamb. But still!

That's right, folks. The lambs are a'rriving. Spring is certainly on the way, and soon there will be fields of the cutest things you've ever seen, frolicking and trying to learn the ropes of those leg things, to see and 'aww' at.

Pictures, please!

And a heartfelt THANK EWE to Chipps.

10 Observations

2009-03-02T23:28:00.003-05:00

What did we do before the advent of cell phones, blogs, instant messengers, and social networking sites?

People did things like make the movie 10.

Now, depending on how you feel about that film, you may feel that cell phones, et al, are the best things ever. I happen to really love the film, as I think it is the best example of the comedic brilliance-nay GENIUS- of Sir Dudley Moore. For that reason, I can appreciate a time when we didn't have what we probably now look at as basic necessities for work and play. How DID we ever survive back then!?

A movie like 10 couldn't have been possible if cell phones and Facebook existed in 1979. All the missed calls, busy signals, one person hanging up while the other is picking up, constant ringing, and the worry over not being able to get in touch are now a thing of the past in this world of instant communication between the masses and you. The story line wouldn't make sense in this modern world. People who don't remember the days before we had the ability to update everyone on our comings and goings in 140 characters or less, probably wouldn't find this movie funny if they saw it for the first time in 2009 instead of '79, or even '89.

Now that I think about it, there is still worry over not being able to get in touch with someone. Maybe that worry is actually worse now, since if you can't get in touch with someone within minutes, something is obviously wrong.

Do we think things are better now? Has our ability to keep in touch every second of the day, from any location in the world, made things better? Or, have we lost some of the simplicity that existed when writing love letters gave people something to look forward to in the mail? I'm not talking on some grand, existential level here. Certainly many things are improved by advancements in technology. We clearly survived without these things, though. And many others.

So I'm very happy that the beach running scene exists. Not because I'm hot for Bo Derek, but because of the many other funny things that not having a cell phone made possible.

WIHP: Airborne Edition

2009-01-30T12:43:00.002-05:00

A cracking example of Why I Hate People on the flight from Boston to Heathrow today.

I was settling in to a relatively empty flight, and just starting to enjoy having a row of 4 to myself. Then, like mold that grows slowly behind the walls and creeps up on you, making you realize after it's too late that you have a life-threatening infestation, I started to hear her. More accurately, her grating tone started to work it's way into my ears.

She was kneeling on her seat, leaning over the seatback talking to the person behind her. They were four and three rows in front of me, respectively, and on the opposite side of the plane. I was desperately trying to focus on my book. After I'd read the same sentence 3 times without absorbing it, I realized that what I had retained was information about her that I didn't care to hear. There were words like 'human rights lawyer' (a noble profession, to be sure. Not sure it's what she does, though), 'Oxford', 'Cambridge', and 'fellowship'. Since she was flying from Boston, I'm surprised I didn't hear 'Harvard' somewhere in the mix. I got the impression that she wanted everyone else to hear her drop the names of places of significance.

The captain came over the p.a. to deliver his greeting, which is the only part of the pre-flight dronings that I care to hear. Her loudspeak made it impossible to hear what the captain was saying, which only heightened my annoyance. The only thing that would have made it worse was if she'd been talking on a phone about running into Derek Jeter.

When the time came for us to take our seats-an announcement that I miraculously WAS able to hear-I thought this would mark the end of my audio agony. Oh how wrong I was! She continued talking over the top of the seat, and once we reached the magic, tone-signaled altitude, she was out of her seat like a shot and back at it.

To add insult to injury, the two seats next to her, AND next to the man she was talking at, were empty. She could have spared us all and sat down next to him and had a nice, quiet conversation. Instead, everyone in rows 44 and back can now recite to you her comings and goings, and those of her children, including 'the little one', to whom she referred more times than I can count.

I had followed a woman down the jetway who was wearing black pants with crusty white lines around her pant legs that resembled an EKG of someone with an irregular heartbeat. I saw this same woman again in baggage claim, because the capillary action of salt mixed with melted snow on city sidewalks is pretty unmistakable, particularly after a heavy snow fall. I realized that the woman with the salty pants was the same woman who was the source of my ire.

The only solace I can take from this is that she was returning home, and the odds of me having the same experience on the way back are slim to nil. I hope.

On Being An Intermediate

2009-01-25T19:37:00.002-05:00

The thing I thought about on the chairlift was the concept of 'intermediate'. It occurred to me, while I was looking at the blue run pass by underneath, that the term 'intermediate' applies to me across pretty much every recreational endeavor I do. I've described myself as 'intermediate with expert tendencies' in the past, and I thought that this sort of summed up the whole idea of what being an intermediate is. You have moved past being a beginner, and you are working your way towards being an expert.

You are in the middle. Middlin'. Average. Straddling the fence. Equidistant. Mezzo. Moyen. There are moments of absolute fluidity, when you and the bike/board feel as one, and you move into that trance-like state in which things just happen on their own with no intervention from you. Then, on the very next section of trail, or run on the piste, you feel out of balance and have no flow or finesse. You get to the bottom and wonder what the hell just happened, and ask yourself why you can't repeat the previous feeling constantly. Why is there no consistency? Oh that's right, it's because you are an intermediate.

Being in the middle has varying degrees, though. You can be closer to the beginning of the middle, or more towards the end. I think I display less beginner and more expert, so I'll call myself someone who is departing the middle and moving towards the more advanced.

The problem is, I've been stuck exiting the middle for a Very. Long. Time. So long, in fact, that I should have progressed to being a full-on expert a while ago, and at this point I should be a bit embarrassed that I'm not any better than I am. This applies to riding and snowboarding, but if I thought about it for a while, I'm sure I can come up with some other metaphor that this analogy also applies to.

I have a huge fear factor. This is what holds me back from the necessary push that I need to get better. The thought of getting hurt, and thus being unable to ride again for 6-8 weeks, is more agonizing than being conservative and sticking to what I know. I suppose I've learned how to really enjoy the lack of extremeness that I've achieved. I see other people doing things I wish I could do, and I think how amazing it would be, yet I can't bring myself to try. I still have fun, but that fun is almost always laced with the hidden desire to be better, and perhaps have what my subconscious feels would be 'betterer, more funerer fun'.

Oh well. The world needs it's intermediates to keep the balance between the staggeringly graceful, and the agonizingly clumsy. I can accept that, and I'll keep looking for those moments when I feel more like an expert, and I'll keep asking myself how I can make that happen more often than not. In the meantime, I'll have a fantastic time doing whatever it is that is better than riding the couch.

At least I'm an expert at that.

All Are Equal

2009-01-20T16:50:00.004-05:00

I had a whole different post in mind to write today. I was sitting on the chairlift when the idea came to me. I was excited about the notion of typing the post up, not because it was some profound observation, but because I felt like I sort of learned a little bit more about myself.

Then, I got home and saw the inauguration of President Obama. I left the TV on for Frazier while I was out boarding. It had been on ABC this morning, since I knew they were planning on having a lot of coverage, which meant there would be a lot of talking going on. I think having the TV on soothes my dog a bit while I'm away. Maybe not.

Anyhoo...I got back just in time for the swearing in. Anyone who knows me probably understands that I don't consider myself to be all that patriotic. It's been a tough 8 years for this country, and although we are taught that we are to respect the office of the President, even if we don't respect the man in it, I have to say that the actions of the most recent occupant have made me lose faith in our government as a whole.

Like most people who are happy about the election outcome, I was looking forward to today. Out with the old, in with the new. As I watched, I started to get that same feeling of hope that others have had about our new leader. So, as I continued to watch, I found myself sort of compelled to write a post about this instead.

So, for the first time in nearly a decade, I feel a little bit patriotic. Maybe it will be cool to be an American again in the near future. I'm hopeful.

Resolutions

2009-01-16T11:30:00.003-05:00

This whole concept of making New Year resolutions has, over the years, become irksome. Making decisions that benefit yourself and others is something that should be done on a regular basis, not just once a year. How many people live up to their resolutions anyway? And when they don't, how often do they feel down on themselves? So, I've given up on the idea of a resolution at the beginning of the year, and instead, decided to carry on making good choices all the time, and conducting myself in such a way that I at least give the appearance of being a nice person.

Travel-ocity

2008-12-26T21:39:00.004-05:00

Once again I find myself being slack with my updates. Sorry...again.

Anyhoo...I essentially wrapped up my work travel just before Thanksgiving, and then my non-work travel started. First, there was the Thanksgiving excursion down to Mom and Dad's. Then, I jetted off to the UK to spend my birthday in the country I was not born into, not in this life anyway. Now I'm back at Mom and Dad's only to head off to Costa Rica tomorrow to spend my New Year holiday in a country I've never been to before.

I'm excited.

Everyone I've ever known who has traveled to Costa Rica raves about it. I was invited to join my very good friends and colleagues Ross and Tori, along with their significant others, and Foxy Nick. Others were invited but have found reasons why they couldn't make it. Matt wins the 'I have to travel the farthest' award by making the long journey from the YouKay. It's going to be a great group.

I've never gone anyplace warm in the winter. I've never felt the need to. I love winter, generally, and have found snowboarding and snowshoeing good ways to stay active during the long winter months. This is going to be a switch. The temperatures are due to range between 70-75F (20-23C). Shorts and t-shirts in January! I guess I'll learn how the Floridians feel.

So, since I probably won't be posting again for a while, let me take the opportunity now to wish everyone happiness and prosperity in the New Year! See you in ought nine.

Protect your eyes.

2008-11-08T19:05:00.003-05:00

I just got back from a fantastic trip down to North Carolina. It was work related, but it hardly seems fair to call it work. I was down there in conjunction with Trek Travel on their 4 day demo trip. There was actually a great deal of work involved. Part of that was due to the rides I had to lead. I got to ride trails in Pisgah National Forest, and Dupont Forest. Both absolutely amazing places to ride. The colors on the trees were astounding.

My roommate Darren went with me. I'm pretty sure he had a good time. Now, Darren is a guy's guy. He's popular with the ladies, has a lot of diverse interests that require lots of toys (mountain biking, dirt biking, etc), and he's an all around good guy. The only issue I openly have with Darren is his use of the word 'bitches'. It became my mission during our trip to try and encourage him to use another, less demeaning word...You know, like 'broads', or something. To try and encourage him to stop, I tried many tactics. A short, yet stern 'HEY!', a more pleading 'Seriously...please.', and sometimes brute force with a punch to the arm.

I thought I was making real progress. That is until we arrived at the home of my beloved parents on the way back north. This part of the story is important to remember for a bit later on. Keep reading...

A quick sidebar: anyone who knows my folks will understand where I owe the credit for my sarcastic wit. My father has a particularly biting sarcasm, and since his stroke it seems to be the one thing that has become more accute. I'm not sure he has much internal censorship. :~)

My family is very boisterous, and Thursday night dinners are shared with my brother and his family. This has become a mini-tradition since my brother was hit by a drunk driver two summers ago. A family meal is nothing short of a workout. There is copious laughter. I mean real, solid belly laughing. The kind that makes your face hurt.

Darren and I arrived at mom and dad's on one such Thursday night. Just after we finished our meal, I was holding my dad's hand when I noticed that his nails were getting long. His stroke has meant that his left hand doesn't really work, so he can't cut the nails on his right hand by himself.

This was the conversation that took place:

Me: Dad your nails are getting a bit long. They need to be trimmed.

Dad: No, they're ok.

Me: Not really dad. Why don't we trim them?

Dad: I keep them that long in case I have to scratch some bitch's eye out.

*Hysterical laughter from the table ensues. I think Darren was laughing harder than anyone.*

Me: You have no idea what you've just done, dad.

Darren: BWAH AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!

My father used to be a minister.

Rough couple of days

2008-10-21T11:30:00.003-04:00

No post in a while, and this one won't be long because frankly, I'm just not in the mood. But, since enquiring minds have been wanting to know, I'm giving an update here.

1) The job I was hoping for in the Trek UK office didn't pan out. Not because someone else was hired, but because the needs of the marketing department changed between the time the job was posted, and now. So, it's off the table for the time being.

Silver lining: They didn't hire someone else for something I was obviously qualified to do, and there's a very slim chance (although I refuse to let myself believe it) that the subject will be revisited in the coming months.

2) Apparently, despite no family history of it, I have vitiligo. As some of you know, I developed some itchy patches of skin on my legs and elsewhere that were depigmented. All cursory research I did about vitiligo didn't mention anything about it starting out as a rash, but after my dermatologist visit this morning, it appears that's what I have. So, I now have to have some blood tests to check for a thyroid condition or some auto-immune disease.

Silver lining: it's not cancer, and I had a physical the other day which showed that I have perfect blood pressure. I had to have blood drawn for that this morning and hopefully I won't have to get stuck again for the new tests ordered by the dermatologist.

So that's my big news. I'm in a bit of a funk as a result, as you might guess, but I'm trying to keep things in perspective. Things could obviously be worse. I'm still not in a very good mood right now, though.

Singlespeeding Is Dead

2008-08-30T22:28:00.003-04:00

I'm not ready to write about my Singlespeed World's trip. I'm afraid that, like many post 24-hour racers, I have a bad taste in my mouth about it because it's too close to feel the enjoyment at this point. Truth be told, the weekend pales in comparison to Aviemore last year, but the bar was set so incredibly high during that trip that I'm not sure anything can top it.

There are plenty of people who have good things to say about Napa and SSWC08, I'm sure. I certainly did manage to have some fun. But, I can't help but feel disappointed by the whole thing. Maybe it's my fault that I didn't find more enjoyment. I didn't go into the weekend with a sour thought about it. I was actually really looking forward to it. In the end though, Napa is not a place for the outdoorsy at heart. As a result, there was a shadow of being outsiders (pun intended) that seemed to loom over everything. I suppose this is the singlespeed way though, so maybe I shouldn't whinge about it.

The trouble is that singlespeeding appears to have died. There were lots of people there, but where were all the singlespeeders? Where were the late light festivities that take over a town? Where were the various groups gathered at the local watering hole? Where were the parades of bikes on the street at all hours? Where were the Surly boys? WHERE ON EARTH WAS THE LATE NIGHT, DOWNTOWN DERBY!? As The Most Beautiful Man in the World pointed out, Napa is not the place that a bunch of dirtbag bike riders are generally seen, and it showed.

I could have happily spent my whole time in Santa Cruz riding around the trails there that I love, and exploring new ones.

The upside of the trip was very obviously getting to see the Brit Brood. It was so nice to have everyone on my side of the pond and in an area that I am familiar with, for once. I finally got to repay a very small fraction of tour guiding and chauffeuring kindness that so many have shown to me.

And dinner at Cosentino's place (Incanto in San Fran) was...Well, Sara put it best when she said that it makes you not want to eat anything else because you know nothing will be as good.

I'm posting out of order again. I should really summarize my early August before this. Maybe I'll get round to that when I write UK Snippet #2, if there is one.

Oh, here: I was in Madison for a very long time. Then I went to California.

Hooray! Job done. More to follow.

Maybe.

Or not.

I saw sheep in Napa, so that was good.

Sheep Are Great, and Bikes Are Ace.

UK Snippet #1

2008-07-22T20:29:00.003-04:00

Rather than one long post, maybe I'll break things up about my trip, which is now a few weeks gone.

The first leg of my trip was spent with Sara. At some point in the past, Sara and I started a running joke about being old spinsters, living in the same house, with lots of cats. We'd have a front porch on which we'd sit, probably holding a cat. Or a shotgun. Maybe both. We'd wear wide-brimmed straw hats and have a regular flow of visitors from our pool of 'boys'. It would sort of be like Thelma and Louise, without the crime and the plummet off a cliff at the end. Or the fake Southern accents. Well, Sara would have a Southern accent because she's from the South of England. That's entirely different though. I would not have a fake Southern accent, English or otherwise.

Anyhoo...During round one of the trip, we had one mind-numbing experience after another. Normally, the term 'mind-numbing' suggests the kind of rush one might experience while riding a roller coaster, then BASE jumping, then skydiving. Well, those things pale in comparison to what WE did! Here's a summary:

Day 1

-I arrive at stoopid o'clock in the morning, am fetched by Sara from the airport, and driven to her house
-Cup of tea (after getting the tour)
-Sit on couches
-Watch Top Gear
-Fall asleep
-Wake up
-Watch Top Gear
-Cup of tea
-Eat
-Have chocolate
-Deano came over, so we went to the pub
-Sleep

Day Two

-Cup of tea
-Breakfast
-Drive to Deano's for bike riding
-Post-ride cup of tea
-Back to Sara's
-Eat
-Sit on couches
-Watch Top Gear
-Fall asleep
-Wake up
-Watch Top Gear
-Cup of tea
-Have chocolate
-Drive to Biff's
-Ride
-Cup of tea
-Eat
-Sleep

Day Three

-Eat
-Cup of Tea
-Ride with Biff
-Drive to Sara's
-Sit on couches
-Cup of tea
-Watch Top Gear
-Eat
-Have chocolate
-Sleep

Day Four

-Eat
-Cup of tea
-Watch Top Gear
-Drive to the Fisk house
-Cup of Tea
-Eat
-Ride
-Beer
-Eat
-Pub quiz
-Cup of tea
-Sleep

Now, you may have noticed a bit of a pattern leading up to the arrival at Rob and Chris'. In summary, it involved eating, tea, chocolate, Top Gear, and napping. During the third night, the spinster conversation came up again. Sara observed that we were experiencing a preview of our future lives.

Fantastic!

The only things missing were the cats, straw hats, and the front porch. Bring on spinsterhood.

The US CBP-Confuse, Befuddle, and Perplex

2008-07-20T21:35:00.002-04:00

CBP is supposed to stand for Customs and Border Protection, but after today I have decided that the title of this post is more fitting.

I've just come back from another trip north of the border. Now, we have this customs broker in Canada that the company works with. They are great. They know their stuff, they give us detailed, step by step directions for every aspect of our border crossing, back and forth. They answer their phones at all hours of the day and night, even on weekends. In typical Canadian fashion, they are overwhelmingly nice. They've never steered us wrong.

Equally as adept at their job is the Canadian border agency. I drive up to the commercial truck window, stretch my arm out of it's socket in order to hand over paperwork to the guard who is at 18-wheeler height, answer a couple of questions, drive around and go inside for a stamp on some paper, and leave. Easy peasy.

On the opposite end of the scale of international bureaucratic efficiency, is the US CBP. I now believe that the CBP is like the Internal Revenue Service. A recent complication with the IRS made me realize that the right ass cheek doesn't know what the left ass cheek is doing. In the end though, it's still an ass. This now applies to the CBP, as well.

I've done border crossings for work at least once for the past 4 summers. With the help of the brokers, I've never had a major hassle. The longest it's ever taken me to cross has been maybe an hour, on a busy day. Today, I pulled up to the booth that was too high for my car, actually had a friendly border guard (an extreme rarity), and presented my paperwork as usual. He told me he had to double check something. I explained what my previous experience has been: they put a little stamp on this one document that proves to Canada that I have returned to the US with my cache of bikes, et al, still in the trailer. This guard told me that no, they keep that document and hand me over something else.

During no other crossing, has this been the case.

He then refers me inside to talk to one of the agents there. She then tells me that I need some blahdeeblah form blah blah 4455 blah, and a blahblahblah manifest, and a US broker to import me (!?). She wanted to know when the last time I crossed was. I said May. She looked at me with utter shock.

"This form is still good, but you also need these others. Didn't they tell you this then?", she asked.

"No. And they didn't tell me when I crossed HERE two days ago, either."

"You crossed HERE!?", she exclaimed.

"Yes, and they never told me this. Nor has any one else at any border crossing between here and Vancouver in the last 4 years."

"Well, they should have. This has been a policy since last summer.", she told me.

So, she then proceeded to tell me that they were going to admit me back into the US this time, but that she made a notation in 'My File' indicating that they issued a one time exception since no one informed me of this, but in the future if I try to cross without the blahblahblah, and the blah blah, and a brokblahblah, that I would not be permitted to come back into the US, and I would be sent back to Canada.

After hearing that, it occurred to me that this wouldn't be so bad. I digress...

These are the people who are responsible for making sure that our Freedom(TM) is protected at our international borders; to defend our country from all of those Canadians who are sneaking across and taking all the luxurious jobs like toilet cleaning, and hospital bio-hazard disposerer. I feel quite sure at this point that it wouldn't be very difficult to smuggle just about anything into the States given how completely oblivious to THEIR OWN policies the CBP are, and the fact that at nearly every crossing I've been told a different story, or given a different stamp on the paperwork, or had to open the trailer before going IN to Canada, or yelled at, or...The list goes on.

I'm nervous every time I move back and forth. Not because I'm guilty of anything, but because I never know what sort of idiot I'm going to have to deal with.

The Usual Routine Plus

2008-07-14T08:46:00.002-04:00

So I got to do some more downhilling over the weekend. Two runs, anyway. I was too busy helping other people have fun to do any more than that.

Yesterday was a bit of a washout, so DaveO and I packed up early to start driving home. I'm still a bit on UK time, so I knew I wasn't going to drive straight through, and I opted to stop West of NYC for the night in a town that's not too far away from where I used to live in Jersey.

Since I'm making a concerted effort to eat better and consume veggies every day, I've eliminated the usual search for tuna sandwiches from Quizno's and Subway in favor of spinach salads. With that in mind, I stopped at a grocery store in town here to find their salad bar. Every grocery store in the world seems to have a salad bar these days, except of course for the ShopRite in Clinton, NJ. They had some pre-made jobbies, but they looked horrible and I'd rather go out to the closest field and munch on some tall grass than eat iceberg lettuce. I wrote off the idea and prepared to exit the store and go over to the Quizno's, when I remembered the Jetboil.

I obtained it from a friend of DaveO's who works for Jetboil as an engineer. The first time I saw Dave make hot tea earlier this year during a cold event, I immediately wanted one. I thought of all the Yorkshire tea I could consume on the road with one of those. I could finally become a real caffeine junkie after all these years of not drinking coffee.

The Jetboil was packed into the trailer sometime in May, and after plans to camp during my Indiana trip were flooded out, I didn't have a chance to use the Jetboil as I'd hoped.

Until last night.

Failing in the salad bar department, the store did redeem itself somewhat by having cans of my favorite organic lentil veggie soup. I bought some, and a can opener, and had a sense of excitement about an addition to my usual hotel routine, which normally goes as follows:

-Find hotel
-Talk desk clerk into cheap rate
-Check in
-Drive rig around to the side door
-Sneak dog into hotel
-Pee
-Feed dog
-Switch on TV
-Flop on bed
-Open laptop
-Eat tuna sandwich

The rest of the night consists of catching up on Cheeky, emails, chats to anyone who is around, tv watching, dog walking, and sleep.

Last night, I changed it up a bit and instead of the tuna, I cooked hot soup in the Jetboil. And it was ace. It took about 2 minutes on very low heat.

I now have ideas about cooking pasta, and veggies, and lots of other healthy things. I think this will become particularly handy next week when I'm back in Quebec. Despite having practiced my French, I'm still not up to speed.

Hopefully I won't set off any fire alarms, or burn the hair off my hands during ignition.

7 Pounds in 5 Weeks

2008-07-10T08:53:00.000-04:00

I'm overdue for another long post, which I'll get to at some point. For now, I'm posting to make known a mission that I've undertaken with Sara the Randle. We've decided to lose 7 pounds by Singlespeed Worlds, which is in 5 weeks' time. It's a reasonable goal, and it will involve much bike riding and eating right.

Of course, between now and then is the little issue of work. The bulk of my August will be spent in Wisconsin for the Trek dealer show. My riding will be somewhat limited, but I will be literally sweating my ass off, so that should help.

Weigh in was this morning. There's no way in hell I'm posting how much I weigh, but I will indicate how much I've lost when I have a chance to step on a scale next. Maybe I'll borrow mom and dad's scale for a bit, in the interest of consistency.

Bring on the carrot sticks!

Jimminy Christmas you can't live forever!

2008-06-23T22:48:00.002-04:00

My sister reminded me that it's been a while since I wrote anything. The Most Beautiful Man in the World had done so also. Apologies to both for having been quiet in the blogosphere.

Hmm...It appears that it's been a month since my last post. So how about a brief summary of happenings since then?

-I came back from Canada and had my allergies flare up almost as soon as I crossed the border. I'm pretty sure I'm allergic to my own country.
-I discovered the joy of Tim Hortons: hot tea, bagel, and a donut for less than a fiver.
-Frazier got to swim in 4 of the Great Lakes.
-I (mostly) avoided Midwestern floods.
-I bought Ikea furniture and moved into my new place.
-I saw my niece graduate from high school. I'm now one of those people that says "I remember holding you when you were just a baby".
-I did not ride my bike very much.

One good thing about being busy is that it leaves little time for run-ins with People I'm Bound To Hate.

That's some of what I've done. But let's move on to what I'm looking forward to!

Our dealer show is rapidly approaching which means I'll be spending nearly all of August in Wisconsin. I missed the conference call during which our room arrangements were decided and apparently Ross said she wanted to room with me so that she could stab me in the jaw. Our logistics lady thought this was a good enough reason for me to room with her. Ross promises that it will really hurt, but has offered to puree food for me so I can at least stay fed and watered. Ross says it's going to be incredible. I have my doubts, but it's mostly about how well she'll puree the food.

There's a little matter of a trip to the UK over July 4th weekend, too. I've chosen to spend my Independence Day in the country from which The Colonists broke away. I think I'll drink lots of tea while I'm there.

True North

2008-05-26T22:45:00.002-04:00

It's the eve of my return to the US. I'd have to say that, despite a midway bump in the road, my trip to Canada has been a blast. I can't believe that I get paid to do stuff like this.

Over the weekend I was in Collingwood, a ski town that sits on the Georgian Bay. I love ski towns in summer. I can't quite put my finger on why. They have a certain atmosphere, and the landscape changes when it gets out from under the veil of snow. After that it was back down towards Toronto for another demo yesterday at a conservation area with it's own little ski hill. I got to ride up to the top of the escarpment and snake back down for a short blast.

Then, since I had an extra day to kill, I headed to Niagara Falls. I've never been, and from what I always heard it was better on the Canadian side. It was a mere 70 kilometers away from where I was, so it seemed like it would have been a waste not to go. When I got there, I decided to ride over at night to take some pictures.

Friggin' ace. Today, I went back.

It's unbelievable to see these things. I kept thinking about the fate of the water as it moved along the river ahead of the falls. The river is very wide, and deep, and absolutely crystal clear. I've never seen a river that large with that much clarity. Then, as it nears the edge, it's like all sound disappears from the flow, and it doesn't return until the crashing roar at the bottom. It's a tremendous display of gravity and nature.

I rode my bike both days to get pictures. The parking costs were pretty high nearer the falls, and I didn't really want to pay to park since I couldn't be gone very long with Frazier in the car. As I was riding to the falls from a park today, I had one of those feelings of really loving the bike, and it's versatility. I parked for free, in a place where i could let the dog run and swim, and had a beautiful ride along the river on bike path the whole way. It was awesome.

I decided to come to Sarnia, where I'll do my border crossing tomorrow, and stay on this side for one more day. I had spotted a lakeside park on Google Maps that would make for another nice place to exercise Frazier. I stand in awe of the Great Lakes.

I even saw sheep up here! A few times. And, very few examples of Why I Hate People. None worth mentioning, in fact.

Far be it for me to display no cynicism, however. There are a few annoying things about Canada:

-Too much country music
-Ridiculous gas prices. It cost me at least $100 to fill the tank. Every time. It's around $1.30 per liter.
-Dual-language signs, required by law. But, Quebec doesn't observe this. Everything there is in French only.
-London. This place just doesn't give off a good vibe, and I had to go there 3 times (it's where the Day of Shit happened).

Er, everything else is ace. I can't wait to come back. There really is more to Canada than Whistler.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

2008-05-22T12:48:00.002-04:00

There's been something in the air lately. I think it's the fine particles that get thrown into the air when the shit hits the fan. It seems that everyone I know has had some dose of bad luck in the last week. Present company included. For my part, here's what happened:

-On the way to Onterrible from Montreal, Frazier decided to go wading in some really gross ditch water. It had been standing for a while, so it had that nice green, oily sheen on top. I had to give him a pseudo-bath using a jug of water and some spray shampoo I had the good foresight to bring with me.
-After arriving in Ontario, I got ready to leave for an event 70 miles away only to discover that I didn't have my phone. I'd walked Frazier through a grassy field earlier in the day, so naturally I had visions of my phone ringing away with no one there to hear it (does it make a sound?). I did a panicked search to no avail, and was late leaving for the event.
-As I exited Highway 401 to head to the shop, there was a cop in front of me who suddenly decided to make me pull over. Again, he was IN FRONT of me, and I was on an exit ramp, so I wasn't speeding. He then proceeded to lecture me for 10 minutes on how unsafe it was for me to not have wing mirror extensions on the car to see around the back of the trailer. In that tone of superiority that cops can get, he said he wasn't going to give me a ticket, but he could have. I guess I was supposed to kiss his gracious feet. As a result of this stop, I was late to my setup at the shop.
-When I got to the shop I noticed that the Touareg had a flat tire. I'm sure this happened when I had to pull off the road for the cop.
-The wheel key is missing from my car, so I had no way to get the wheel off so my sales rep could take it and get it fixed. Instead, they decided to take it to a local VW dealership to have them remove the wheel. Of all the wheel keys they had, not one of them was right for a 2007 Touareg. I guess they change them every year, or something stoopid. So, I had to leave the car, and the trailer down in London. My rep game me a lift back to the Random Canadian's house since I'd left Frazier here.
-It's unseasonably cold, and all of my warm clothes, and dog food, are in the car.
-No one in London, ON had the right tire to put on the car, so I had to leave yet another day while they had one sent from Toronto.
-A neighbor found my phone, but couldn't get it back to me until last night. The time that he said he'd bring it over came and went, so I walked down to his house. Evidently, he'd forgotten all about it. BUT! I got my phone back.
-Frazier appears to have conjunctivitis. And I'm sure he's hungry.

Things appear to be improving slowly now. I'll head down soon with Chrissy to get the car, and then head directly to my event tonight. Frazier will get food, and I'll be able to make calls.

Despite all of this, it's merely crabgrass in the lawn of life, as my dad would say. I was reminded by Sideways that tomorrow is the day a very dear friend goes into the hospital to have a tumor removed. Instant perspective.

So, my very best wishes go out to the Genteel Sailor. I know that your positive attitude will yield the most favorable outcome. My thoughts are with you.

Random Brevity

2008-05-14T22:36:00.002-04:00

Steve told me to post more, so I'm going to oblige him even though I don't feel like I have anything worthwhile to write.

So, here's a short list of what I've been up to lately:

-On the way back to Jersey from Illinois, I stopped in Bedford, PA, home to the Cannondale factory. My friend Troy, who runs the demo program there, gave me a tour.
-I gave myself the week off to organize some things and prepare for Canada.
-I didn't do much but ride and take Frazier to the beach for the first part of the week.
-A severe Spring Nor'easter took residence over South Jersey causing very bad coastal flooding and wiping out large sections of beach. Before the worst of the flooding, I took my mom for a drive to see how high the water was. I even took pictures.
-Sat around and watched the water rise to within 30 feet of the back deck (the yard is about 150 feet long).
-Took a few walks down to the high water level on the road until the high water level was at the driveway. The road was closed at some point during the day.
-Woke up to sunshine and blue skies on Tuesday. Took Frazier to the beach to see the post-storm damage. Decided at 5pm to go for a group ride at 6 that I'd never done before. Somewhere between 30-35 miles.
-Went and got milk this morning, and supplies for car cleaning.
-Frazier to the beach. A different one this time, down in my old neighborhood. Not much of it left, sadly.
-Cleaned the car out.
-Finished laundry.
-Began packing for departure to New Hampshire tomorrow.

I head up to Canada on Friday for 10 days worth of work up there. I'll start out in Quebec and end up west of Toronto. The last time I was in Montreal, I was an infant. I've never been to Toronto. My former housemate Allison read somewhere that every new experience adds 45 days to your life. I'm going to add a good stretch in the next couple of weeks.

The Thing about Ticks

2008-05-09T14:57:00.003-04:00

New Jersey, being not so far away from the area around Lyme, Connecticut where the disease of the same name was first recognized, has a lot of ticks. Some of them carry the bacteria that leads to Lyme disease. My mother has had it. It seems like I can't take my dog outside without him coming back with a tick on him. Sometimes they are the bigger ones, sometimes they are the smaller ones, which are the vectors for the bastard bacteria.

Among the creatures on earth that I loathe the most are ticks. Roaches really gross me out, and ticks used to. I was forced to overcome my disgust of ticks (somewhat) back in 2004 while I was living in England. This story isn't unfamiliar to many of my friends, but if you haven't had the pleasure to hear the full-blown account, I'll give you the abridged version here:

-Trail building for the 2004 Mountain Mayhem Course
-Fresh set of woods that I was allowed to design the course through (later known as 'Christina's Woods')
-Lovely bit of ferns with the makings of a trail already going through it
-Marking of said path as part of the official course, clearing bits of fern where needed
-Evening shower at the local inn/pub
-Scraping off bits of dirt that stuck to me during the day
-Coming across particularly resistant bits of dirt
-Finally getting one off only to notice that it had legs
-Continue picking until finally I had to shut the shower off and sit down in the tub for closer inspection
-Count the lineup of ticks that I pulled off and put on the side of the tub. Total: 36
-Address Chipps' concerns when everyone else realized that I'd been gone far longer than the 15 minutes I said it would take.
-Had Chipps look at my back, upon which he found 2 more ticks. Total: 38

Everyone was pretty cranky with me, I think, when they thought I was hoarding the shower. I had to pretty quickly get over the feeling of wanting to peel off my own skin in order to get away from the ticks, and buckle down and get them off me. It was quite a line of ticks on the side of the tub.

The problem with being in tick season is that suddenly every little hair, or piece of fabric, or twitch that is on my skin feels like it's something crawling on me. Every time a nerve fires off, or my head itches, I'm convinced that I've got ticks moving along my epidermis. Every freckle suddenly becomes suspect. Every location of a bite becomes something to watch for the telltale target shaped mark that indicates transmission of the disease. I'm tempted to shave my head.

I've decided that if I'm ever standing before the countenance of God, and was given one question to ask, it would be 'Why ticks?'.

Seriously, they serve no purpose. They aren't a food source for much of anything. And even if they are, there are far more of them than are needed by whatever it is that eats them. They are an absolutely pointless creature. I could say the same about the mosquito, really, but I think they are easier for birds to eat than the blood-sucking, belly crawlers.

I mean, they really are rubbish! They just hang out, waiting for something to come along that catches one of the hairy appendages they have. 'Oops! Hey look! I'm on something!' It's not like the tick jumps on. Everything about how a tick operates is accidental. They have no control over their legs. They can't let go unless they've done their vampire act and are heavy enough to fall off. They don't even have sense enough to realize what they are biting. I caught one today trying to burrow itself into Frazier's rain coat.

They are a creepy/crawly that should be banished from the earth. I really don't see how the butterfly effect could be detrimental if ticks were suddenly wiped clean from terra firma.

"You guys got any milk?"

2008-05-05T19:47:00.002-04:00

Well...After some considerable delay, I've managed to find the time and motivation to write another post. I'm not entirely sure that my cogitations and musings have been missed, but either way I'm happy to present you with more.

I've had a very busy April. The busiest I've had since becoming a road warrioress, it has to be said. I was fortunate enough to have gotten to work with the ever-pleasant DaveO, and this past weekend Mr. Demo Derrico, whose music collection is the best I've ever heard since it meshes so well with my personal tastes.

As a result of the business, I haven't done much that's worth telling. I've ridden, I've worked, I've not taken many pictures, or had any moments of gut-busting hillarity. It hasn't been without some enjoyment though.

My encounters with people who continue to provide me with reasons Why I Hate People has also been minimal. There have been some examples here and there, as there always are, but nothing terribly glaring.

I recently got a copy of Wuthering Heights on CD to listen to in the car. I wanted to read the book that was written so near to where I used to live in England. I needed to do something about the fact that I'd never read it, and now after having finished the audiobook I'm left with the following that I pose for debate:

If you listen to a book on tape, can you say that you've 'read' it? If someone asks me if I've read Wuthering Heights, can I say yes?

I've thought of the following possible answers:

1) Yes
2) Yes, er no. Um, yes but no.
3) Yes but not really.
4) No, but I have listened to it.
5) I'm familiar with the story.

In truth, I think that I am much more focused on it while listening that I would be if I were turning the pages myself. I don't glance over details or narratives, and if I do miss something it's only in the time it takes me to make an exit or turn.

In other notes, SSUK was over the weekend and I'm not at all bummed about missing it. Oh no. I mean come on! I was in Peoria. How could I possibly have entertained thoughts that Scotland, along with my best friends in the world could be better than that?

Isolated Rain Shower

2008-04-12T11:13:00.002-04:00

I had a dark cloud over my head today.

I finally had a chance to ride some trails down in Baltimore/DC last weekend. Yay!

I was back down there for a couple of nights and went for another ride on the trails yesterday. Yay!

Today, I'm supposed to meet up with Demo DaveO and our Philly sales rep for a ride, before heading into Philly to hang out with Lockwood. The forecast is calling for scattered thunderstorms, and if the drive home is any indication of what's to come, they are going to be heavy.

So I thought I'd better sneak out for a little ride this morning while it was still bright and sunny. Just something to spin out the legs after yesterday's hard singlespeed affair. To the beach and back. Sounds good.

Frazier was wanting some exercise, so I hopped on the bike and rode down the street with him trotting along. He managed to find something disgusting to eat. Probably a dead fish or some poo. Hooray.

Anyhoo...I got him back and noticed the sky was changing to grey, clouds were approaching and the wind was picking up. I start to pedal out and decide to go a different direction in case it started to pour. There are lots of straight-as-an-arrow flat roads around here that link up to other roads of the same ilk. It was doing that big-drop sprinkle thing, so I decided to do a giant square and head back to the house.

Just as I turned on to the road here, it started to rain quite hard. The house is 2 miles or so from the other end of the road, and it rained hard on me the whole way. Just enough to ensure that I was soaked by the time I got home.

To add insult, I looked to my left and noticed the gorgeous multitude of blue sky. It was just a passing shower, but one that followed me every direction I went. Within 5 minutes after getting back to the house it stopped raining and all evidence of the passing rain was gone.

Unbelievable. My luck couldn't be any worse!

In lighter news, today is Simon's birthday. Happy Birthday man with lovely lips, and eyes like limpid pools! Or, LLLP. ;~)

We don't need no stinking plate!

2008-04-01T20:14:00.002-04:00

So possibly the worst salad eating experience ever just happened to me.

My mom made an awesome salad for dinner. Custom and everything. She knows how much I love olives, so an extra helping was given to me. Some green onions, some sliced cherry tomatoes, mixed greens, and topped with some balsamic vinegar and oil. So I took it to the back room because I was engrossed in a bad movie. I plonked on the futon and began to dig in. I either had a dull fork, or tough veggies. Here's what happened:

1) One olive launched itself over the edge when my fork slid across the plate trying to stab a piece of lettuce.
2) While attempting to stab at one of the tomatoes, the fork bucked, splashing dressing and 3 more olives off the plate, and onto the quilt covering the futon.
3) I decided to give up on stabbing, and thought scooping would be the answer. I had a forkload, all of which fell except for one olive.
4) A few more bites later, I attempted stabbing one more time. The stalk of a piece of spinach was wrapped under the leaf and sprang loose just before I got the fork to my mouth, causing vinegar and oil to fling into my right eye. That did not feel good.

Finally I finished, but with a somewhat less than satisfied feeling. I felt like I had been waring with my food.

Fortunately, I went and got some Banana Bread Beer to wash things down. Who needs salad!

When will the sleep come?

2008-03-27T02:35:00.003-04:00

I haven't been sleeping well the past few nights because I've had that 'work's about to start' anxiousness. My brain has been making lists and I've had to start piecing together a plan before heading out.

This is why I am awake at 2:30 in the morning, despite having spent the entire day walking around Portsmouth, NH and Kittery, ME with my sister. We've been planning a trip over to the coast for some time now. It was always due to be on a Wednesday since Ruth doesn't work on Wednesdays. We've been thwarted by one thing or another (mostly crap weather). We were running out of chances since I head out this weekend, and neither one of us wants to deal with the tourons who flock there in the summer.

The weather last night was telling us it was going to be a sloppy day. It started snowing around 11pm last night, but by the time I got up this morning the sun was out. So, we made a spontaneous decision to go for it and make the long awaited trip. It was well worth it. The day got more gorgeous as it progressed; the temperature topped out around 50. I took loads of pictures, we collected some cool rocks, and we shopped. We didn't make it home until just before 10pm. Then, Sara called for our overdue catch up chat, courtesy of ITV.

My head hit the pillow just after midnight. I didn't even have the energy to edit photos. Despite that, my mind went into list making mode. Flip, flop. Toss, turn. SHUT UP BRAIN! How can I not sleep despite being this tired!? I need to reply to this email, and that email, and I need to send emails to these people. I've got phone calls to make, and scheduling items to firm up. Shipping to consider, laundry, packing...Get that cracked bit on the hitch fixed. Dog gets a haircut in 7 hours now...TAXES!! Do my expenses, send that form back to Boulder to let them know I can't possibly do jury duty because I don't live there anymore.

So I've spent the last hour catching up on the email portion of my to do list. After that, I wasn't quite tired enough yet, hence this post. It's now 2:48am. I'm going to shut the lid and try to get some sleep now.

Cow Flop Doesn't Freeze

2008-03-23T23:37:00.002-04:00

So I went out with my nephew tonight to get some shots of the moon. We have some pretty cool moon rises around here. I thought the best place to shoot would be along a road out of town next to a large field. At one point along the road, there is a parking area. I turned into it and discovered that there's actually a road out the other end of parking area and into the field. I thought this would lead to a great spot for shooting.

After about 150 yards of rutted bumpiness, we rounded a bend and were met with a wall of dirt and snow. Dead end. I got out and was immediately smacked with an unmistakable odor.

"It smells like poo," I said to my nephew. I figured maybe there was a horse farm nearby. We were in the middle of a field, after all.

I decided to scope out what was on the other side of the snow pile, so I approached, my little head torch showing me what seemed to be a solid mass of snow and dirt that had been dug up from the plow.

I raised my left foot and took a step to begin my ascent. I was surprised when it sank into some very soft...shit. I looked down to see my half buried foot. My mind went into that processing mode when everything seems like it's running through your brain in slow motion. All at once I realized where that odor was coming from, and the fact that it was emanating from the pile my foot was in. As I extricated my foot it made that slurpy sucking noise that you hear when you pull your shoe out of deep, wet mud...or shit.

So gross.

I immediately backed away and walked to a very white part of the snow pile that surrounded the little patch we were in. I started jabbing at it with my foot, only to discover that the below freezing temperatures had solidified the snow again. I was kicking ice. Everything around us was frozen solid...except for the huge pile of poo. Then I remembered a bottle of water I'd left in the car. By the mercy of God it was nearly full, so at least I could rinse off the disgusting crap. The worst was realizing that I'd gotten some on the bottom of my wool jeans.

"Well I guess we figured out where the smell was coming from," I said to Taylor. He was obviously getting a hearty guffaw out of this.

We finished the shoot and headed home. When I got back in and Ruth asked how it went, my reply was obvious: "Shitty."

The result:

Saturday Smack Down

2008-03-22T14:02:00.002-04:00

Today it feels like I dipped my toe in the pond of darkness. My mood can best be described as 'black as pitch'.

The following is a list of things I'm absolutely SICK of:

-Not being tired until 1am
-Consequently waking up at nearly 10am
-My dog playing like shit and not letting me throw his toy, then being on my ass all day to go out constantly, only to not play well again, thus not getting worn out enough to rest
-The weather-wind, cold, cold, cold, more cold, more wind. I know March isn't supposed to be nice, but usually there are a few nice days then few cold days. All we've had is fucking cold and I'm sick of it. When it warms up, it rains/sleets/snows. Then it gets cold again. It's going to be 60 degrees in Boulder this week.
-Riding like a jerk. I can't get any sort of form at all
-Feeling like I'm working my ass off for an hour and a half to have done only 15 miles for the effort
-Legs feeling like complete shit at the slightest hint of an uphill.
-Being lied to, including lies of omission and finding out things about people that make me feel like a complete chump
-Having no will power
-Having to censor myself
-Not having Simon nearby
-Being shit at guitar
-Being shit at photography
-Being shit

I had it in mind to do 30 miles today. The wind was calm this morning, and naturally picked up just before I started riding and the it became a constant headwind. It was pushing me around. I decided at some point during my ride that I was going to bury myself. This grand illusion lasted for about 10 minutes. I started pushing hard gears, and when the wind blew, I pushed harder, only to have it slap me down again and again and again. I couldn't take it anymore, so I turned around and did the short loop, feeling like a complete failure for not being able to hack it.

I was thinking of Matt who rode every day for a year in every condition imaginable. I was thinking of Simon who is pushing himself through 30 days of riding in wind that puts our little breeze to shame. And I get beat down by 9 miles of headwind and threw in the towel.

Now I'm cold and needing a shower and food. I wish I could relax after that, but I'll have to take the dog out yet again and try to get him tired out so he doesn't want to go out again in an hour.

I shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning.

Inbox Rubbish

2008-03-19T22:50:00.003-04:00

Of things that line the bottom of my inbox, this one deserves a prize:

"My name is {witheld}. I am a 36 year old man. I am 6\'5\" tall, 240 lbs. I would like to become a product tester for bikes. I love the outdoors and anything sports related. I would be perfect for this. Please respond. Thank You"

This was sent to the Fit for Women Tour contact address, i.e. me.

Simon said I should be more tolerant of people. Therefore, I am *not* going to write the oratory that went through my head when this one arrived. I am simply going to leave it here for others to comment on as they will.

In other news, I managed to get out yesterday for my longest ride of the year so far. 33 miles of rolling, New Hampshire goodness. The road riding around here is pretty great, but I really wish the snow would hurry up and melt so I can start exploring the trails.

As I write this, we are in the midst of yet another winter storm that rolled in last night, and will be around for another day yet.

I'm going to use the time off the bike productively, and cut down the steerer tube. I'm sure this will be welcome news to at least Simon and Nick. :~p

The Hugh Hefner of Mountain Biking

2008-03-15T22:07:00.002-04:00

Got an unexpected call from The Most Beautiful Man in the World shortly after 9pm Eastern Time. He's carousing even further oop north with the ever-lovely Andy Armstrong. They were 3 bottles of wine into the evening, which was no surprise given the time of night that the call came.

It took a while for me to get out of Steve exactly where he was. I'd forgotten that he was heading to Andy's this weekend. He finally told me, but not until after he'd called me "y'idiot" at least 3 times. Turns out they've got another Yank chick with them. My replacement, I joked. I think TMBMITW was so excited that he'd made another American friend, that he decided to call to find out how far I am from where she's from, which is Portland, OR. I could tell where he was going with this. He was hoping to figure out a way for all of us to get together when he's over on this side of the pond for his family holiday later this year.

I hated to burst the poor lad's bubble though, since for those of you who aren't geographically challenged, you know that Portland is on the opposite coast from me, a mere 3,047 miles from Henniker, NH. For reference, Henniker to Steve's house outside of Manchester, UK is 3,150 miles. So not that close, really. Bless'im.

Still, a call from Steve is always a pleasant surprise. Hearing him having a good time with other good friends is somewhat bittersweet. It's sort of like when my sister calls me from Mack&Manco's on the boardwalk in Ocean City to tell me that they are all happily stuffing their faces with The Best Pizza in the World. One time when she did that, it made me cry.

Thanks for the call, Steve! Don't worry, I didn't cry. :~)

I Believe Elephants Live on the Moon

2008-03-09T23:43:00.002-04:00

Another turn of the clocks, another shift in the weather, and another chance for a personal attitude adjustment.

Let me skip to the end of the story. This is going to be cryptic, but hopefully there's a message in here somewhere.

...So I'm going to try and be more patient. I'm going to do the best I can to let my emotional guard down, and put some trust in someone else. I'm not going to assume that things that have happened in the past are going to happen again now. I'm going to try and improve the way I think about myself.

People adapt and change as they grow older. It might not be some huge, monumental shift. It might be something subtle. I have a fairly good idea about the things I need to change personally. They're actually pretty big. I have no idea if I'm capable of doing it or not. Believing good things about oneself is not easy to do. I worry that it will make me become an egotist, or I'll somehow otherwise change not for the better.

The twist in the plot is that I have no problems telling other people how great they are. And I believe it with every fiber of my being. I understand what it's like to find compliments hard to take. I get frustrated when they are received with the same sort of response that I normally give, yet I can't seem to apply logic to my own response when I'm on the receiving end. "Do as I say..."

I know a lot of people who are examples of those who restore my faith in humanity. It's not all doom and gloom, or misanthropic and cynical.

I'd like to try letting go some. We'll see what happens. I think I'll be ok, I'm in good hands.

Acting like a proper athlete.

2008-03-03T20:17:00.003-05:00

Again! I rode my bike today. Yes, outside. Only for an hour, and as expected my ass hurt like a personified bowling ball colliding with pins. Every minute was a sore one. Adding insult to ass injury was the headwind I hit on the way back. Good thing I was only out for a light recovery ride. I kept it all very spinny and didn't let myself mash any gears. I've also got a very tight hammy and for a while, though my right groin muscle was pulled. I'm stretching, ooooow! Right now, as a matter of fact. I really must try and avoid such long periods off the bike.

Took mom out for errand running after. Had one minor WIHP moment at the grocery checkout with the woman at the register who decided that examining her nails was far more important than greeting the customer who's helping to keep her in paychecks. If only we'd gone to the next one over with the cheery man who actually thanked his customer for bagging his own groceries. Do you think we got that? Uh no. Not even so much as a grunt, or anything that resembled 'Have a nice day'. Customer service is alive and well at the ole Acme!

And a very Happy Birthday on Tuesday to my favorite sister Ruth! Should I say how old you are?? It's half a century ride to those playing along. Or, enough fluffy sheep to make wooly hats for 50 people. Love you Dufus!

Now I'm going to put my PJ's on and dive into the Wawa Brand Peanut Butter and Chocolate ice cream that I got today. I deserve it. I rode my bike for the second day in a row, after all.

She Strong Like Bull

2008-03-02T21:57:00.002-05:00

I rode my bike today. Outside even! As expected, coming to see mom and dad has found me in a place with much milder weather than those at home are experiencing. The report from Ruth is that the snow piles are so high now that you can't see the cars in the driveway. Meanwhile, down at the shore it was around 50 with a stiff wind today. I managed to eek out 31 miles. My legs hurt, which is nothing compared to the pain I'm sure I'll feel in my ass tomorrow.

It was the first major ride of the season though, and it did feel good to be turning cranks outside again. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Spring is on it's way. Once I get back to New Hampshire I'm sure reality will hit me.

Photographic evidence:

Believe it or not, I had no 'Why I Hate People' encounters today, despite riding on the boardwalk in Ocean City which was pretty crowded for a Sunday in March. Rather than get annoyed at people who were strolling, I made a slalom course out of that leg of the ride. I scored top marks since I didn't hit anyone, intentionally or otherwise.

I read my mom my example from yesterday, and told her about some of my other WIHP commentaries. She suggested that I should try to be less negative, after all, she says, 'You can be funny about positive things, too.' Of course I can, Mom. It's just more fun to talk about the stoopidheads.

Now, should I open another beer or not? I did ride my bike today, after all.

Roll call:

Tim: Fingers crossed for Lanark tomorrow
Sara: I thought you said you were on nights? I'm still waiting for my phone call. ;~)
Ross: Two in Two woman. Tsk tsk tsk
SDB: Dumbass. ;~)

Human Petri Dish

2008-03-01T20:22:00.006-05:00

Made the journey from Columbus to South Jersey today. I got a call from my mom last night letting me know that she and my father both had been fighting the flu. This is a different strain, apparently, and it feels more like a cold or a sinus issue with a fever. I came here in order to drop off my trailer rather than try and negotiate it back into the drive way that's had an additional 2 feet of snow since I left last week. Despite my plan to try and avoid as many things that are probably smothered with viral bacteria, I've probably inoculated myself 80 times in the hour I've been here.

My chosen method of preemptively combating this has been via Airborne and Berocca dissolving tabs, and Banana Bread Beer (which I have found at a liquor store near my parents' house). After all, alcohol kills germs. I've been sort of smearing it around my mucous membranes. It stings a bit when I get it in my eyes.

On the drive today, I went through Barnesville and passed Sheepford Road. No actual Barnes or sheep sightings, although I did see some goats.

Today's example of 'Why I Hate People":

Dear idiots who drive British and European cars around with the fog lights on in perfectly clear weather,

Just because you think it makes your car look even more cool when you drive around with those extra two lights on in front, doesn't mean that you should. They are called 'fog lights', see, which sort of implies that you use them IN FOG. Perhaps you think that the little icon on your lights with the beam pointed down has some sort of symbolism, as in people bow to you because you opted for the accessory illumination package. What it actually means is that it shines the light down low to the ground. Now, if there's not any fog around, which is often the case here in the States, you have absolutely zero reason to be blinding the people behind you. How are you doing that, you ask? Well, it's because people that design your non-domestic vehicle actually understand the concept of using the lights when conditions make it necessary to do so, otherwise known as 'poor visibility'. As such, the car manufacturers also include at least one exceptionally bright red, rear light so that cars coming up behind you don't suddenly make you a hood ornament. Now, what happens when you, Mr./Mrs./Miss resident of the State of New Jersey, choose to run your fog lights on your Jaguar when there is not a cloud in the sky and you can see all the stars in God's creation? You are searing the retinas of people in the vehicles behind you since your car has two lights that are the equivalent brightness of your LED brake lights, that's what. Furthermore, you are causing a general traffic nuisance further back since the aforementioned lights do look like you are riding your brakes, thus causing other numpties to think there is some sort of slow down ahead. Panic and chaos ensues until someone else who knows equipment features on British and European cars sees you ahead, recognizes the idiotic danger of your stupidity, and resumes normal speed, indicating to other drivers that all is well, there's just a shithead driving that car that thinks fog lights are cool to use, and who obviously doesn't know that it also effects the rear lights.

This is yet another reason that I need to follow through with one of my invention ideas: the car message board. This would be either a lit scroll bar or a whiteboard on which you can write messages to other drivers. In this example, it would be something like 'Hey dumbass, read your owners' manual about what happens in the back when you turn on your fog lights.'

Of course, this means that I'd have to change the message to what it would say 99.9% of the time when I drive: 'Learn the concept of the passing lane.'

----

The UK lot has started their 30 in 30 month. That's 30 rides in 30 days. I really wish I could participate in this, but I was driving today, and I don't yet have a trainer to use up north. Maybe I'll do my own 30 in 30 and just start it when I can. Hmm...

I Googled myself, and it was awesome!

2008-02-28T14:02:00.003-05:00

I'm in Ohio. Up until this past weekend, if you had asked me what there was in Ohio that was worth mentioning, I would have said the best part about Ohio is that I have a favorite family member here. Outside of that, I pretty much only looked at this State as a pain in the ass. Bad drivers here, see... BUT! I have to admit that there is something else here that is top notch. I know you might be thinking that it's some kinda miracle that I've changed my tune about anything, but it has happened in the past. I can't exactly remember when, but I'm sure it has.

This past weekend I did an event at Ray's Indoor Mountain BIke Park in Cleveland. It was a women's weekend sponsored by my good pals at Dirt Rag Magazine. I'd heard a lot about Ray's, and all of it good. It wasn't a place that I felt the urge to drive to Ohio for though. The guy is onto something there. I told him as much. It's not often that someone comes along in this industry with a ground breaking idea. You can only change the shape of a brake lever so many times, and in the end, it's still a brake lever. What Ray has done is something special. He's taken an old, World War II era parachute factory and turned it into a winter playground for bikes only. No skaters of any sort, just bikes. I have no problems with skaters at all. I only mention it because it's not like this is a skate park where people show up on bikes. This is a bike park. BMX'ers have started coming, but there's no conflict with the mountain bikers. It has to be seen to be believed.

Sue Haywood from the Trek Pro team was there, as was World Champion Jill Kintner and Kathy Pruitt, along with a handful of other pro women. A good time was had by all.

But, no post of mine would be complete without another installment of "Why I Hate People".

SO there I was, practicing my dirt jumping. What's that you say? Dirt Jumping? Oh, did I forget to mention that I learned how to dirt jump at Ray's? Well I did...

Anyhoo...There I was, just waiting at the top of the dirt jumps on this decky platformy thing. It has a waiting area with a painted line to designate it and everything. From this deck, you drop into any one of a number of features at Ray's, all of which loop back around to the same spot. When it's busy there's a lot of people up on that deck going back and forth. Most people have the common sense to back up to the waiting area if they aren't going right away, leaving the deck clear for others, such as myself, to get a good head of steam going into the jumps.

Along comes this gaggle of boys and their adult supervision. These kids were over in another area of the park that I was using to warm up before going to the jumps on the opposite end. They were giving me a headache there too by being in the way, riding the wrong way on the one way system, and not moving out of the way when they were stopped. The man in charge did tell them once to get out of the way as I was trying to break through the 10 year old boy logjam. I was annoyed enough to leave that side of the park early.

Off to the dirt jumps I went, and much to my dismay the pack of pre-pubescents followed. I knew this was going to be trouble. They just camped out on the deck. They would ride a line, then all 5 of them would squat right in the middle of everything. The man was completely oblivious to the dirty looks that everyone else was giving them and the kids. Absolutely zero trail etiquette. Get behind the white line, stoopids! It's right there! It even says 'Standing' to indicate that's where you go if you are doing what you are doing which is standing in the way of everyone else!

I finally couldn't take it anymore and decided I had to go and say something. So, I rode over to them and pointed out the white line and asked if they could get behind it when they aren't riding because people are coming through there pretty fast and we don't want to hit any of them. That last bit is a lie. I *did* want to hit them because they were being rude.

All at once, I got 5 sets of stink eye. I didn't care. They left. The lines were clear. Success. I know I was a hero to everyone else up there. I just know it.

Weather permitting, I'm off to see my parents for a couple of days tomorrow. I'll drop the trailer off there since there's another foot of fresh snow on the ground in New Hampshire, and my next trip is back south anyway. I might even get some riding in.

---

I got the following voicemail from Ross last week (not verbatim):

I'm driving and was thinking about the reasons why I like you, so I thought I'd call and tell you what I have on the list so far.

1) I like that we can be in the car together but don't have to talk all the time
2) I like that you wear board shorts.

There was another one, but I can't remember what it was. I'm sure Ross will be along at some point with a sarcy comment to either deny any knowledge of this call, or to remind me what the third one was.

Oh, and I see your two posts in one week Rosstafarian. I see them. Where have you been for weeks before though, eh!? Sa-LACKER.

*Edit: As the lovely Simon pointed out below, the third item on Ross's list was that I like Tourette's guy. I can't believe I forgot that one. If you don't know Tourette's guy, you can find it here. Prepare to laugh.

The Great Pollenator

2008-02-20T10:35:00.002-05:00

A perfect example of a picture being worth a thousand words:

Or, one that is representative of many of my several things at once: Bikes, Calderdale, and some of my favorite friends (others out of shot).

A weekend spent in the UK for Chipps' Birthday Bash was not nearly enough time. What was I thinking!? I could have been over there much longer, but things on this side of the pond made that difficult. I should have just made the time. As usual, I had loads of fun. I could go on and on, but it's really more of the same story that I always tell when I'm back from the UK. And also the same is that feeling of 'homesickness'.

Apologies to Nick for not getting to see his little orange car. Next time, I promise!
Thanks to Sideways for letting me spend some time with the fam despite things being the way they are currently.
Big hugs to Matt and Tanya for being ace hosts again.
To Chipps for deciding to have a big party. I know it was your weekend, but in someways it feels like it was for me to see nearly all of my ace friends.
To Simon for being lovely. Sorry that your good name got dragged through the inevitable heckling that comes my way from the likes of friggin' Steve and Dave. :~)

And to the sheep, for being there.

"And then I ran into Derek Jeter..."

2008-02-14T13:12:00.002-05:00

Or, More Reasons Why I Hate People...

Today was a travel day for me. I made a last minute decision to skip over to the UK for Chipps' 40th birthday bash. It's not as long a trip as I had originally planned waaaay back, but it was looking like I wasn't going to make it at all, so I'm happy to be here now.

Of course, considering that my travels began at 11:30am Eastern Time Wednesday morning, and ended at 7:30am GMT Thursday, there were bound to be some travel misadventures. It didn't take long. Unfortunately, I was lulled into a false sense of security when my arrival, check in, and security clearance went without incident. There was a bit of a tense moment when the weather looked like it was going to keep me on the ground, but I was booked on an earlier flight and made my connection 3 hours in advance.

It's the boarding of my plane in Boston where things started to be a bit interesting. Some man decided to take up residence in the aisle, despite other passengers, namely me, trying to get buy. Of course, it could be that he was completely unaware that the world other than him existed since he was on his cell phone. He let the man in front of me pass, then suddenly returned to his little cocoon of narcissism. It's a chicken and egg thing. I can't tell if I realized he was an idiot before, or after I hear him say this to the person on the other end of the phone (who was probably also blocking traffic somewhere):

"So I was coming out of the restaurant and then I ran into Derek Jeter! I don't know! He was going in...blah blah blah....."

For those of you on other continents, Derek Jeter is a pro baseball player for the New York Yankees. He's one of the superstars of the sport. This guy was clearly name dropping, and did so in the most annoying way possible. I got up to him, invaded his personal space, and waited to see if he would suddenly become aware of the existence of another human. He didn't, so I very nicely, and without any hint of irritation or suggestion (as I'm sure you can imagine), "Excuse me!". He moved, but still acted like I didn't exist.

Idiot.

Then I got annoyed because I thought I was in an exit row, and wasn't. This would later prove to be more problematic than I thought. I'm not short, if you hadn't noticed. So leg room is often an issue. It's even worse when the most fidgety person IN THE WORLD is sitting in front of you. It's not bad enough that she had to recline her seat all the way, a given, but then she persisted in pushing back on the flexy seat, which then kept jamming into my kneecaps over and over and over again. I still can't feel them. And then, she had the gaul to keep looking back at me as if *I* was doing something to affront her!

Dumbass.

The two women next to me were cranky.

The people behind me kept yanking on the back of my seat to use it for leverage when they had to get up, which seemed like every 10 minutes.

Fortunately, it all ended well. Getting through Passport control was a breeze. No line at all. I'm now safely tucked away at Sideways and have had two naps. Up to the old stomping grounds with Simon tomorrow to rendezvous with Chipps for a nice ride and lunch. The weekend festivities promise to be grand!

Oh, and Ross, you are really slacking now.

Well Fuck You Very Much!

2008-02-06T16:53:00.001-05:00

Not that I'm one to drop F-bombs unnecessarily, but given the two encounters I'm about to relay you might agree that it's sort of an apt description.

Number A:

There I was, JWA (just walking along) with Frazier the other morning when all of a sudden I hear this big, booming voice yell "LEASH!". Now, It was about 8 am, and I was fresh out of bed. My eyes weren't even open all the way and I was in PJ's. I was headed down the street along the usual morning loop when I heard this. My initial, split second reaction was that God himself was talking to me. I wasn't awake enough to actually process anything, see.

I looked up to see Frazier trotting along and heading toward this man-who looks like a cross between Jerry Garcia and Santa Clause-standing there with inversely proportionally small Westies. He was yelling at Frazier to stop as I was calling him back to me. Frazier, being the curious dog that he is, took another step toward the Westies which prompted Santa Jerry to grab a fistful of snow and raise it towards my dog. Frazier, sensing the threat, immediately came back to me and I put his leash on. I told the man that he wasn't vicious, and he blasted there's a leash law here, and 'all dog owners think that right up until they attack another dog, and my dogs are only small". I told him that the two Puggles across the street from me are smaller than his dogs, and Frazier is afraid of them. He wouldn't hear any of it. He ignored the fact that Frazier was standing next to me, while his dogs were yanking on their leashes to get to him.

-He wouldn't let me explain that Frazier is 10 years old, and I'm pretty sure I know how he's going to react in any dog situation. That reaction is always the same: he runs to me if the other dog isn't nice. He has no aggression in him whatsoever. He's never been in a single fight in his life.
-He wouldn't let me explain that my brother also has a Westie, and perhaps he though Gus had come to visit.
-He wouldn't let me explain that my parents have a Daschund that Frazier has lived with for a while.
-He didn't let me explain that he was being an idiot.

This man lives right around the corner, and since I won't be forcing Frazier to be on the leash on every little quiet street in town, this altercation is bound to happen again.

Letter 2:

I got the following Flickr mail the other day. I'm naming and shaming because, well, because I can:

From: MaLóL

Subject: www.light-bikes.net

Hi:

I´ve seen you have some great photographs about mountainbiking. In our site we have a main banner which background is a picture of a landscape or a cycling related pic. We change it everymonth. We would like to have one of your pictures there, but obviously we need to have your permission first and we would but a small sentence saying the author of the picture or a link to your work or a post in the news section. What do you think? do you agree?

thanks in advance and congratulations for yourpics.
Manuel Torres.
www.light-bikes.net webmaster and cycling lover.

Well hello Mr. Spanish cycling lover! My reply:

Hi there Manuel!

Thanks so much for noticing my photos! I'm flattered that you find one of them worthy of your site. Unfortunately, I don't license my photos for free, so I can not accept your offer at this time.

Many thanks!

-Chris

He replied wondering how much it would be. After talking to the resident expert Dan the Photo Man I replied telling him it would be $100 to use my shot.

This is what I got back from him:

hi:

The picture is not that good for that price. And not even for half that price.

Thanks anyway.
Manuel Torres.

After hearing this, Dan suggested that I should reply "Dear Juan, or whatever your name is. Kindly fuck off".

Me:

Wow. I'm sure you didn't mean to insult me with your reply, so I'll just pretend that it wasn't incredibly rude. Perhaps the translation from Spanish to English only *sounds* insulting. You might want to work on your tone.

Sorry you don't think a shot is worth paying for. I guess it's good enough for publication in magazines and calendars, but not for your website. Oh well.

-CG

He told me that his tone was my problem, not his. Odd, since he was the one that had the tone in the first place.

He added, "we have other photographers colaborating and as our site is non-profit, we don´t pay for pictures which by the way will also give you advertisement."

Simon agreed with Dan's suggestion after this reposte.

I haven't replied again. Mostly because I really don't care if my photo gets used on a Spanish website devoted to the 5 or 6 people in Spain who are obsessive and who's sole joy in life is scouring the web for the latest ridiculously light chainring bolt made by some unheard-of company with a titanium forge located in a dark alley in Uzbekistan so that they can buy said bolt and add it to the other parts they've dug up from the realms of obscurity in order to make an 11 pound mountain bike that no one weighing more than the average 6 year old would dare to ride out of fear of dying a horrible death when all the weight weenie parts simultaneously explode in a mushroom could of carbon and titanium dust. This would probably happen in the driveway on ride number one of the 'newly built weightless wonder'.

Yeah, I'm ok with my photo not getting that 'advertisement'.

Where have all the nice people gone?

Another Sad Day for Cycling

2008-02-05T14:46:00.000-05:00

Sheldon Brown died on Sunday. Words fail me, really.

Rest in peace, Sheldon. Thousands thank you for the information you have willingly and happily passed on to us.

ROSS RUSHIN: IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY

2008-01-30T16:14:00.001-05:00

One of our Florida sales reps Becky sent out a note to remind us all that it is Ross's birthday today. She is now 25 years old.

Apparently, she was trying to keep it hush hush. So I thought I would quietly post it on my blog here.

Since I can't actually be with you to celebrate today Ross, I thought I would post a commemorative picture for you. The ultimate 25th birthday celebration comes in the form of the My Little Pony 25th Birthday Celebration Retro Ponies™

I hope you enjoy this very special day, when the act of parental horizontal mambo led to the world being graced with your presence.

Creativity Lacking

2008-01-27T22:46:00.000-05:00

Ho hum. I am in a rut of some consideration. I've got a brand spankin' new camera (a Canon 40D which is ace), a fancy new lens (Canon 17-40 f/4.0 ultra wide zoom), and absolutely zero skill or motivation to go shoot anything. I've been thumbing through my Flickr contacts and am once again humbled by the amazing talent that lies within amateur photographers who do astonishing things with equipment that isn't as 'fancy' as what I've just upgraded myself to.

Today, I picked up another basket that I started before New Year's that I affectionately dubbed 'The Thing'. I didn't have a plan in mind for it, nor did I really know what it was going to be. It began with some scraps that were leftover from my other basket project. I figured it would decide for itself what it would be. At this point it's looking like a pen holder, or something.

I've always had this fascination with things that are artsy, or colorful, or creative. I was not blessed in the creativity department. It oozes from the pores of my sister and my niece. My sister can take a piece of jewelry made with wires and beads and replicate it in about oh, 15 minutes. The things my niece has been able to do since before she hit puberty are mind blowing. I looked at this book that she had assembled from her art class this year and it is beautiful in both it's simplicity and it's skill.

Meanwhile, I sit around and try and force something cool out of things I see. It's to the point now where I can't even tell what would make a nice composition anymore. It all feels so forced and contrived. I know I should just go out and shoot things. I guess I just feel that I can only shoot so many trees in the woods or patchworks of snow with winding rivers. It's not that there isn't a shedload of beauty around me, I just can't seem to find a way to capture it that's worth looking at right now.

Perhaps this is the photographic equivalent of writer's block. The notion that I might snap out of it doesn't really relieve the larger problem of having no skills, GOSH!

One Thousand Six Hundred and Seventy-One

2008-01-19T12:18:00.000-05:00

1,671.

Miles.

Driven.

Two hours of sleep total.

North Platte, Nebraska to Henniker, New Hampshire.

Sort of by accident, see.

I didn't set out to drive all night. The circumstances were such that it just sort of happened that way. Let me back up. After a frenzy of packing and loading the trailer on Tuesday afternoon, following one last round of recycling and Salvation Armying, I left Boulder (insert dramatic music here) FOREVER at 4pm. Ok, so not really forever. I'm sure I'll find my way back there at some point.

Anyhoo...I had it in mind that I would drive a ways just to start cutting into the big trip. As Simon pointed out, 10% of the trip now is 10% less tomorrow. I figured North Platte would be a good destination. It was a reasonable distance away, and had plenty of amenities. My mom asked if I shed any tears when I left. The answer is no. I had zero emotional attachment to Boulder. That is what bums me out about it. It's such an aesthetically beautiful place that is unfortunately filled with very shallow people. Perhaps I just never met the right crowd. I'll never know and now, I don't really care. I will miss my ace housemate Allison, though. She really did make it bearable.

Mother Nature gave me quite a sendoff as well. I woke on Tuesday morning to rafter shaking winds which wanted to blow me off the highway all the way across the State line. I should have seen it as a sign of things to come. After waking in North Platte to overcast skies I set off along the road that would be keeping me company through many states, Interstate 80.

About oh, 10 miles into the trip I hit a little snow squall. Nothing significant, save for the fact that it didn't stop until about 500 MILES LATER! Yes, all the way across the rest of Nebraska and all the way across Iowa it was snowing. At one point I hit a patch of black ice that started the trailer fishtailing. A 16 foot trailer that might be ever so slightly overloaded is a lot of weight for the little Touareg to handle. I don't know how I managed to hold it together and keep it on the road. I was convinced that I was going to head off, but good kharma was with me and I righted my direction and stayed on the tarmac.

My nerves were shot to hell. I started questioning my choice to make the trip. I scolded myself for letting my overwhelming desire to be here take over my better judgement. I had Laura Bontrager's voice ringing in my head telling me to 'Make Good Choices', and thought that this time I probably hadn't. I was mad at the weather. I was mad at the road. I was mad at myself. I was mad at January and trailers and people who do stupid things like moving in the winter with trailers that don't like anything other than perfectly dry pavement.

My sister took the brunt of this frustration. I needed to know what was ahead of me. She's my weather guide and had to deal with me being short and blunt trying to figure out how much longer I was going to have to deal with this storm. I wanted to know exactly when it was going to stop. Exactly when I was going to have some relief. I wanted dry pavement. Never in my life have I wanted dry pavement so badly. Why didn't I stop?

The trouble with stopping in the middle of this mess was that I would just have to wake up to it again and keep slogging through. I wanted to get ahead of the storm and clear into what I had seen as a window of nice weather before the next storm hit New England. I finally got a break around Davenport, Iowa. By then I had resolved that if I made it that far, I was just going to continue on through Chicago.

I am not a fan of Chicago (a whole other story). The thing that annoys me the most about it is the deplorable state of driving there. And rush hour. I knew that if I stopped before Chicago that I would be fighting traffic all the way through Indiana. The best time to get around there is later at night, so I kept going.

When I was through Gary, Indiana I wasn't sleepy. When I was through South Bend I was wide awake. My motivation had returned, and I didn't stop until Toledo. Finally at 3am, I pulled into a highway services and slept for an hour and a half. at 4:30 I was awake again and the anxiousness was back. I set off and drove for a while before stopping for another half hour of sleep. The GyPSy said I was due to arrive at 6:30 and I only had 300 miles to go. That thing must not be working.

Blah blah blah, driving more miles, blahdey blah...is this odometer even MOVING!?!...blah blah...I swear this is the longest 10 miles of MY LIFE!...blah blah oh my gosh this is a very twisty little two lane road in Vermont drivedrivedrive I am never taking the trailer on this road AGAIN! Phone call to sister, text messages I can't reply to, when is the next storm supposed to start? Midnight? I should be ok...drivedrivedrive What do you mean they've moved up the time that the storm is supposed to start!?! Please, please can I just make it safely...blah blah blah Damnit if that stupid GPS wasn't right in the end. How did it KNOW that it would take so long on Vermont route 7??

And I made it. Then:
1) I backed into the driveway at my sister's house
2) Got out of the car
3) Burst into tears

My body still hasn't recovered. But, I'm here and I'm safe and happy. I am not anxious to ever repeat such a feat of driving madness.

Tit dirt!

2008-01-14T00:10:00.000-05:00

As I sit here drinking a nice BBB after a frenzy of packing for my move, I'm having an email exchange with my coworker Ross about a table cloth that I thought I remembered sending to her. This stream of consciousness was her response:

"You didn't send it anywhere. I stole it. From Sherie's desk.

I'm gonna FedEx it. I mean seriously, have you really ever tried sending a package at the post office? First of all, good luck finding the godforsaken place. Then you get to stand in line a lot. And then when you get to the front the lady with the poofy red hair won't even look you in the eye and she makes you feel like you're wasting her time even though you're only asking her to DO WHAT MY TAX DOLLARS ARE PAYING HER TO DO. Fuckin' post office. Besides, I can FedEx it when I go to Kinkos to do my expense reports this week. Plus, the friendly faces, well-organized efficient store layout, and user-friendly machines at FedEx Kinkos are a welcome contrast to the US Mail. I think the fact that they have an endangered species as their mascot is a harbinger of doom for the Postal Service."

That was worth posting.

In other news, a man 'miraculously' regained his vision after a trip to the chiropractor. This, is headline news.

So I'm going to have my last day of snowboarding in Colorado tomorrow. Not entirely sure how I feel about that. For the most part, there's not much here I'm going to miss, but every once in a while I get this pang of a reminder about something I'm not going to get to do for a while. I have to keep reminding myself that this isn't the last time I'm going to be here. I am so incredibly anxious to get out of here that only the request of my very good friend Full-hair was enough to get me to give up one day of move preparation for some turns on the slopes. He's a good friend though, and definitely one of those 'things' I'm going to miss. Plus he helped me move some stuff around today, and for that it's worth delaying my departure to spend some time with him.

But, later this week I'll be back on the road and streaking towards my new destination. Woop!

No sheep spotting today, although I did bubble wrap and pack the ace sheep figurine that Dan gave me.

A New Year of Underwater Basket Weaving

2008-01-01T21:35:00.000-05:00

Head shown for size reference. Please refrain from suggestions that I have a large noggin.

Yeah, that's right. I know how to weave baskets. You gotta problem with that??

My sister has been doing it for a while and a few years ago she started teaching me how. I've kept it quiet, but now I'm ready to come out of the craft closet and let the world know that I CAN MAKE SOMETHING WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS (and the two hands that belong to my sister, the expert). I am not ashamed. Say what you will. It's actually quite enjoyable and I like the idea of being able to make something functional. So there.

So the one up there is the one that we started the other day. It will hold my wooly hats and gloves once I'm settled in the Northeast.

I'm now in Buffalo, NY on my way to Madison for a few days of meetings. I drove through snow storms all day long. This might have been the toughest day of driving I've ever done.

And this concludes my 'completely unrelated to the New Year' post.

Best of luck to everyone in 2008.

Tis the Season for Completely Changing One's Mind

2007-12-24T21:22:00.001-05:00

I'm not moving to Santa Cruz.

There, I've said it. By now this isn't news to most. Nor is my reason for the sweeping change of heart. Something went off in my head. It sort of felt like it built up, but it wasn't until one nearly sleepless night of my mind racing until 2am that the solution came to me.

I know Tim told me that I should live my own life and stop trying to make everyone else happy. I know Simon-and even my own sister- told me that I should go West. But it was the combination of Tori reminding me that unless there really is some huge tectonic shift, California isn't going anywhere, and the Double Fisker reminding me that family is only around for so long that really got this thought rollercoaster started.

So, New Hampshire it is.

I'm happy with the decision. I'm still not happy with all the things I know I'm going to miss about the West. Things that are both work related and personal. No more are my 'stop the car and ride in Fruita and St. George on my way to SoCal' rides. Gone are the consecutive days of riding over to take pictures of surfers in Santa Cruz, followed by delicious meals at the Bontrager house. Seeing the purple mountains majesties in the distance as I drive back to Colorado are at an end. Driving on the straightest roads ever across miles of barren desert are a thing of the past. Don't even get me started on turning my back on dry air in favor of mosquitos and humidity.

But, being in the same town as my sister and driving distance away from my parents seems to me to be worth the trade. I've always said that if I had to live in the East again, it would only be somewhere in New England. The landscape might be smaller than the towering treeless Rocky tops, but New Hampshire is still a year-round recreation spot.

I've been reminded that I'm not just moving away from something. I'm also moving towards many things. I am excited. I'm still dreading the faff that I'm going to have to go through to physically make the move, but the end result is going to be more time with people who really do love me despite my weird quirkiness.

Happy Chrismahanakwanzika to everyone. May whatever holiday you celebrate be full of joy and merriment.

On The Fence

2007-12-09T23:27:00.000-05:00

Bit of a gap between posts, but that's primarily due to the fact that since I've been with the fam the last few weeks I've mostly just been taking it easy.

And speaking of being around the fam, herein lies the thing that has given me a reason to post. What usually happens when I spend any amount of time with my sister in New Hampshire, is that I start thinking about how easy it would be to live around here. I've always said that if I had to live in the East again, it would only be up here. The lifestyle compliments me, and it's not the usual het up rat race that is the norm in the Northeast. I guess there's an imaginary line that exists somewhere between New York City and here above which things have different significance in life. Hmm...Perhaps it's not an imaginary line at all, but rather the State line of Massachusetts and every State north of it.

Factor in my parents. They aren't getting any younger, and I do regularly wish I were nearer to them. I'm the only one in my entire family that lives as far West as I do. The next relative that has any great span between themselves and the rest of the family is my cousin who lives in Florida. Everyone else is concentrated between Ohio and New Jersey.

So I sit here and start second guessing whether or not I've made the right choice in going even Westerer than I current am. Every time I'm in California, particularly Santa Cruz, it seems like absolute bliss. I guess I've always harbored some dream about living in California. It's always had this mystique about it, and I've felt like I've missed out on something by not having lived there. I always wondered what it must have been like to grow up there. Maybe my hair would turn blonde by association.

Now I'm here and the perfection that I was looking forward to has been replaced by a malaise over the thought of leaving. I don't like being so far from everyone. I've thought for some time now that a move back East is an eventuality for me. It doesn't seem like any of my family is going west any time soon.

The position to do what I do in the Northeast is open. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't given serious consideration to calling my boss and telling her that I've had a drastic change of heart, and I want to stay here. If only Ohio weren't included in the mix! Terrible drivers in Ohio.

As tempting as it is, I think I would wind up making several people very cranky with me. They would all be friends, and I'm not very interested in losing them. I've made commitments regarding this move and the associated work effort that would not do me well to back out on. I think the best thing to do is to carry on as planned and re-evaluate things this time next year, when I will inevitably be back in New Hampshire for quite some time.

This is one of those times when I wish someone with perfect clarity and the ability to examine a situation from all angles and all possible outcomes would just say "You need to do this". That would be easy.

Coughing is fitness leaving the body

2007-11-27T17:50:00.000-05:00

It's warm. It's cold. It's warm. It's cold again. The weather can't seem to make up its mind. Despite this, I've managed to get out on some rides, and shoot some pictures. Independent of each other, that is. I'm still suffering from two things:

1) Having my legs crap out after about 20 miles on the road leaving me feeling as if I'd just done 40 miles uphill.
B) I still don't really know what I'm doing with a camera.

That being said, it's been nice to be back on the bike after keeping myself off it for several days in the (vain) hopes that my cough would subside. It's also been a great deal of fun taking bad pictures, particularly in light of the fact that the full moon night and the night after provided some absolutely amazing moonrises here. There is something to be said for being on the East Coast and getting to watch the moon come up. If I were a halfway decent photographer, I'd know how to take good pictures of it as it peaks over the horizon. As it stands, this was the best I could do after isolating the moon and dropping the exposure during post-processing:

Anyhoo...I woke up to another warmer and windy day today, and just didn't have it in me to fight the inevitable 360 degree headwinds on a road ride, so I went off to Belleplain State Forest to see what sort of epic flatness I might find in the woods. I managed to get myself lost trying to take a shortcut when I hit a road. The problem was that the road led me to an intersection that always trips me up. I know vaguely where both roads at the junction go, but I'll be damned if I know where they go from that particular spot. So, rather than go left to what I'm sure was probably only 3/4 of a mile back to the trail, I doubled back the 2 or so miles to the trail that spat me out in the first place. Three hours after leaving the car, I got back to it. So much for a nice hour and a half!

Oh well, as Simon pointed out that's the longest ride I've done since I got sick. And since riding is great (as are sheep), I can't really complain.

We're not at 5340 feet anymore, Toto.

2007-11-22T22:56:00.000-05:00

You know, I'm used to long days behind the wheel, but MAN did it seem like it took FOREVER to get back to New Jersey this time. Three solid days of 600 miles and then some. I picked up this southerly cross wind right out my front door, and it came with me all the way to the east coast. The sad thing was that it carried with it abnormally warm temperatures, so for 3 days I sat inside the Touareg while outside the temperature hovered around 70 degrees. The same was true today, and of course the wind was blowing a front that promises to drop the temperature significantly. The high for tomorrow is only supposed to be in the 40's. At least I managed to get out for a ride over to the coast today.

It was nice to be riding after my self-imposed hiatus due to this cough. I was so tired of it waking me up in the middle of the night that last Thursday, while in Tucson, I took myself to the ER at 2:30 in the morning. That was a really fun 5 hour ordeal. They diagnosed me with a cough. Well! At least I got that sorted. The silver lining is that as of now I don't have bronchitis or pneumonia, so I supposed sitting in extremely uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room was worth it for peace of mind. Yet, I still have a cough.

We had a nice Thanksgiving dinner today. It was complete with the usual obnoxious laughter that always accompanies a Garrison family gathering. My sister and I swore that we were NOT going to talk politics with our brother, the redneck of the family. I thought one of us was going to crack when he made a snide comment about global warming, but we held firm and henceforth managed to avoid the usual fight that also accompanies a family get-together. All in all, it was a nice holiday.

I'm planning to oberve Buy Nothing Day on this, the busiest shopping day of the year. People go nuts. Stores open hours before they normally do. Five and 6 am are not out of the question, and they offer sales in the wee hours. People actually line up at the door to take advantage of the sale prices. It's pretty gross. I can't imagine why people actually want to go deal with the crowds. It's absolute pandemonium and an example of consumerism at it's apex. I can't believe that a day of shopping has become a new American tradition.

33 Miles of Flat Pain

2007-11-06T23:41:00.001-05:00

Hygienic
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Rides seem like they are getting harder of late. The last 4 or 5 times I've been on the bike have been a struggle to do not very much distance. Before a recent outing, I was chatting with Simon and he asked me if I was feeling fresh. I'm having a hard time remembering the last time I did feel fresh on a ride. It's taking every ounce of energy I have to just get through 25 or 30 miles.

This morning's ride consisted of riding out to this little town called Hygiene to meet up with Alison, who had left for a 3 hour ride at 9am. I knew I didn't want to go that early because it has gotten quite cold here, and I wouldn't last the whole 3 hours given how I've been feeling on the bike lately. So, we compromised and met up an hour after I left the house for the last block of Alison's ride.

I left the house an hour before our planned meet up of 11. I figured I'd have time to spare to cover the 15 miles to the town. I got there a whopping 30 seconds before Al's arrival. When I asked her what time it was she said it was five after 11. I knew I was feeling bad on the way, but I had a hard time believing that I used an entire hour to go such a short distance. The road out is rolling, but not constantly uphill, and once I make the right hander off 36 it's almost entirely down a very slight grade to Hygiene. I told Al I wasn't sure how much use I'd be to her since I was feeling so rubbish. We set off towards home and reached a pace that was a bit faster than what I'd been doing on the way out, but I was feeling pretty comfortable. There are a couple of short bursts of up on the road we were on, and every one of them made me feel like my chest was going to pound it's way right out of my ribcage. Frustrating.

I understand that cold weather that has hit us like it has, without much lead time to prepare, can have adverse effects on the body. On Sunday it was 75 degrees. As I write this, the thermometer reads 35. I reckon it was about 40 on the ride today. Still, I hate how I can go from feeling pretty good, and can go out on rides with some degree of intensity, then without changing that pattern can feel completely crap.

I figure I'm going to have a nice Roly-like rug on the 'ole thorax at this rate.

The Continuing Saga of the Dateless Wonder

2007-11-03T00:59:00.001-04:00

Been a while since I did a 'pensive post'. Seems like spending yet another Friday night sat on the couch is as good a time as any.

So what's the deal with acceptance? Specifically, what is it about human nature...Ok, I won't make any blanket statement here, I'll narrow it down to my nature. So what it is with MY nature that leads to a desire to be accepted? Actually, that's sort of a broad generalization. I don't care about being accepted by everyone.

I think I'm having an identity crisis. It has to do with the company I work for and how it's generally regarded in the world of bike culture. It's not held in very high regard. It bothers me. I think the reason it is even on my mind is because I spent a short while in the limbo between the racer set and industry crowd: the journalist world.

Now I read things that other people write about the company I work for and I get this feeling that I'll be judged. I get the same feeling about people I met before I took this job that would now change their opinion of me based on their preconceived notions about the company at large.

I'm not entirely sure why I even care. Herein lies the internal conflict. I'm more than happy to be doing what I do. I genuinely like the people I work with. I understand that Trek, being the large bike company that it is, will probably never be 'worthy' of the Kool Kids Klub. I don't know why I have this desire to be part of the er, KKK. I guess that's the acceptance problem.

The truth is, I do care. That's just stupid. One of the main reasons I'm leaving Boulder is because people here aren't very welcoming. I don't know why it bothers me that similar, narrow-minded people making assumptions about the company I work for and the fact that I work there, would look at me with an air of disdain or thumb their noses at me. I do not want to be friends with people like that. What is my problem!?

Insecurity is the root, I'm sure. That old, nasty foe that I feel like I am constantly fighting. I'm working on it. And as it relates to this issue, I have some amazing friends. The best friends I've ever had in my lifetime are people I've met in the last 4 or 5 years. If they were the last people I became friends with, I'd be perfectly fine. I suppose having such limited time with them is part of why I have any hang ups about people I am merely acquainted with, or don't know at all. If I were secure enough, I'd be able to laugh it off. Outwardly, I really don't have any problem doing that.

---
Well, since my internet crashed last night and I could post this, I've had a night to sleep on it. I'm not sure I have any clarity this morning. I resolve to just be myself and not worry so much about what the peanut gallery thinks.

Now I'm going on a 'bonking ride'. Obviously, that has different connotations to some than it does over here (fanny pack?). I've just woken up, and now I'm going to ride for an hour on an empty stomach.

Better living through bike riding.

Someone's knockin' at the door.

2007-11-02T00:39:00.001-04:00

7:20pm this evening, a random knock comes to the front door. I get up and am greeted by two women, one with a clipboard, who says 'We're here for Alison Powers'. I'm not exactly sure why I lost my ability to speak. I felt like I was in the presence of some authority and all I could do was turn around and yell upstairs to Alison that she had visitors. My senses came back to me and I turned back to the door and invited them in. At some point, I realized that I was looking at two people from the US Anti-Doping Agency, the governing body of cycling that does the random drug testing for athletes.

The women introduced themselves to Alison and gave a brief explanation for what was going to happen. Basically, they only collect the samples, but that's really an oversimplified version of what goes on.

There's a form that has some basic information. The agent put three styrofoam boxes on the table, and a bag with cups. She explained to Alison that she could choose any of the three boxes, and the reason there were three was to minimize the chance that anything had been tampered with beforehand. Everything had numbers and was recorded on the form. She then allowed her to choose a cup and to give it a close inspection, again to make sure that nothing was out of order. At that point, Alison and the agent went into the bathroom to collect the sample. Having someone watch you pee into a cup seems pretty demoralizing. I'm pretty sure no pro football player (on either side of the pond), has to endure that sort of thing.

When they returned, it was time to open the box. It was sealed with a piece of tape that leaves half of itself on the box when it's opened. Inside the box are the infamous A and B sample bottles. Both bottles were sealed with a shrink wrap. It was a bit strange to see them, knowing how much controversy has arisen as a result of the contents of bottles like that, and possible impropriety in their handling in the past.

Alison was told step by step what to do: Inspect the bottles to make sure they haven't been tampered with. Remove the shrink wrap. Remove the lids and check for these red rings around the mouth of the bottle. Pour from the cup into the A bottle about halfway up. Then reseal the bottle until the lid no longer clicks. Do the same with the B bottle. Turn each upside down to check for leaks. Place each bottle into an individual plastic bag and seal them with tape. Place both bottles back into the styrofoam box.

Next, the agent checked the pH and specific gravity of the urine. A sample that is too weak means that the lab won't be able to test it, and the agents have to take another sample. Same thing for the pH. Alison was fine with both.

The agent then asked a series of questions, including whether or not she'd had any recent blood transfusions, and what medications she'd taken in the last 3 days.

After that, she signed the form in a way that didn't reveal her name on any part of it that is sent to the lab. The whole process took about half an hour, mostly because the agent was very detailed in the explanations and steps. Alison gets her results in 6-8 weeks.

This was the first time that Alison has been tested by USADA (she was actually pretty pissed off that it hadn't happened already), but not the first time she'd been tested since she became a pro. She said the testing methods here are much more careful and thorough than in Europe, where agents handled samples and bottles and didn't document things as carefully by doing such things as labeling samples with names, instead of numbers. In her words 'it's pretty sketchy'. That doesn't instill a whole lot of confidence in WADA (World Anti-Doping Agency), and casts an even larger shroud of doubt over the Euro labs that have ruined, and attempted to ruin, the careers of a lot of cyclists.

I'm sure there are dopers in the sport, and more than likely most of the big names are part of that crowd. It just seems to me that the testing protocol itself should be squeaky clean, and not something that can ever be questioned in terms of it's potential impact on results.

"Time to get my Namaste on."

2007-10-30T22:02:00.000-04:00

33 miles of pain
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Good ride today. 2300 feet and a bit of climbing. It was a very headwindy ride, but that's the stuff that puts hair on your chest, right?

I've been maintaining a fairly regular ride schedule. Regular in the sense that I've spent many more days on the bike than off lately. I'm actually pretty worried about going back East for the holidays. It's going to be harder to make myself ride in cold weather. I guess I'll just suck it up and quit whinging.

------

So I've had this pretty big list of things that I really need to do in advance of my trip, and I've done next to none of it. I'm trying to avoid everything having to be done at once, but I work best and most efficiently when I'm under a time crunch. I'm my own worst enemy in that respect.

On a completely unrelated note, I haven't felt like I've had anything worthwhile to say for a while. I guess that's the way things are when there's very little drama happening.

Fruita Salad

2007-10-30T00:17:00.000-04:00

Spontaneity is fun. My housemate Alison told me that she and her boyfriend were going to Fruita over the weekend. Fruita. I love going there. The trails are so much fun and seem to never get old no matter how many times you ride them. I didn't want to crash Alison's party, so I asked Fuller if he wanted to go with me. He was in desperate need of a getaway for bike riding, and it's been on the list of things we'd wanted to do for a very long time. Work pressures kept him from enjoying a lot of things, perhaps most significantly was spending time with his friends and riding. He's just resigned from what was sucking the life out of him, so I was very happy when he called on Friday and said he wanted to go.

No trip to Fruita is complete without a visit to the Hot Tomato to catch up with my ace pals Anne and Jen. They were kind enough to let us stay at their house, despite the fact that they were heading back my direction to go visit Tara Llanes, who is still in a Denver hospital after her horrible crash on September 1st that left her paralyzed from the waist down.

Fuller and I got into town around noon on Saturday, and after a catch up lunch at the cafe, we headed out to do some laps around Rustler's Loop. The sun was going down, which is always the best time of day to ride that loop and stop to take in the scenery at one of the many Colorado River overlooks. We were even graced by the presence of a bobcat, which sat perched on a rock like a statue for what seemed like a very long time. The best part of the ride was watching Fuller relax and enjoy himself. Later on, we met up with Alison and Josh at Fiesta Guadalajara for some food and beverages. Watching a pro roadie get drunk in the off season is great fun.

More riding followed yesterday. We rode some of the 18 Road trails with Alison and Josh for a few hours before they headed back to the city. Fuller and I went back to the house and watched The Flying Scotsman. After a lazy morning today, we packed up and headed back to the front range.

Sorry Simon, I know I was supposed to take pictures but it just didn't happen. The air was even more hazy today.

Spending the weekend with Fuller, and seeing how much fun he was having (which was long overdue), reminds me how therapeutic bike riding can be. Hearing Jen and Anne talk about Tara's recovery, and the possibility that she may never ride an upright bike again all makes me wonder if I don't sometimes take bike riding for granted. It's not always just a fun activity. Sometimes it's restorative, and sometimes it has to be reinvented when life throws a curve.

The Patron Saint of Quality Footwear

2007-10-24T22:04:00.000-04:00

Today was a damn fine day. The weather outside in far from frightful. Lovely autum weather here. The temperature was probably 75 today and the sun was shining. The leaves that are still left on the trees are making things quite colorful. I got out for a ride today with the intention of doing some climbing. I realized that was going to be quite painful since I did yet another 'easy' ride with my housemate Allison, who swore it wouldn't be too bad since she's been off the bike for 3 weeks. Liar. So, I stuck to the rolling roads and still managed to hurt myself.

I played leap frog with this dude that I passed going up a short hill, only to have him bust a gut in order to get back in front of me a short while later. He turned down the same road I had planned, so I watched him put the hurt on himself further up the next short climb and out onto the flat. This guy was full on in the drops, elbows out and head down. I really felt bad for him. Meanwhile, I got up to a good cadence and a comfortable rhythm and slowly realed him in. Then I passed him again. I didn't change my pace, i just stayed steady. Then I got that 'feeling' that he was on my wheel. I had to look behind me a couple of miles down the road in order to go around a construction vehicle, and sure enough, there he was. I made a turn into the headwind at the next intersection, and he stayed there sucking my wheel until the next junction. I slowed down a hair hoping that he'd take a turn at the front, but all he did was pass, give me a look and sort of half a nod, then off he went leaving me out to dry in the wind. Nice. That's a real class act for you. Jerk.

Anyhoo, I finished out my ride having a chat with one of the pros from the HealthNet team. Nice bloke from Austrailia. Then I got home, had some lunch and a shower, and headed off to the grocery store. There's a liquor store next to the Safeway so I decided to pop in and buy some pumpkin ale, which is only available this time of year. I usually see what English ale's are available when I go into to a liquor store, in the hopes that I'll find one of my favorites.

And that's when it happened. I was so overcome with joy that I really don't have any words to describe it. It was a highlight of my day, nay! my year. I had to rub my eyes to make sure they weren't playing tricks on me. I had one of those proper heart skipping a beat moments and felt the ensuing adrenaline rush course through my body from head to toe. I know what it sounds like, and truth be told this was something resembling an orgasmic experience, I can't lie. I leave the rest to the picture:

That's right, it's THE beer, in my own kitchen! We're not in the UK anymore, Toto.

Ahhhh...

And to make things even better, This Is Spinal Tap is playing On Demand (the freeview movie thing from Communistcast). 'These go to eleven.'

Fantastic!

Home Savory Home

2007-10-24T00:18:00.000-04:00

I'm finally back in Boulder. What a whirlwind. Normally I'm ok with being on the road for long stretches, but in this rare case I was ready to get back. I was hoping to get home on Sunday night, but when the traction control kicked in while I was crossing a nearly-frozen overpass, I knew it wasn't going to get any better so I pulled over in Raton, NM, just shy of the New Mexico/Colorado State line. It was slightly disappointing since I had a high level of motivation to start tackling the list of things I need to get in order ahead of my trip back to Jersey/New Hampshire for the holidays, and in preparation for my move to Santa Cruz.

On my to do list:
-Sell my Element-this is a heartbreaking thought. I absolutely love that car. It's been good to me and I'll be very sad to see it go. I just don't use it enough, so it's time to say goodbye.
-Clean out my closet and get rid of clothes that have fallen into the "I haven't worn this for a year" category.
-Organize the garage
-Find a home for the old demo bikes that I still have
-Renew my passport so I can go back to the UK in February

And a list of loads of other small tasks.

I'm now watching CNN, which is showing a two part series entitled 'Planet in Peril'-subject matter is self-explanatory there. During commercial breaks, they are showing live coverage of the fires in SoCal. There are so many fires that 1 million people have been evacuated and over 400,000 acres have burned. So far. It doesn't seem to be letting up any.

Fingers crossed for all of my SoCal friends.

I leave you with this parting shot of Joe from the Yeti demo program, showing us a proper flask:

Durango Ghetto

2007-10-19T01:44:00.000-04:00

Another example of how powerlines ruin a perfectly good shot.

You know what sucks about Moab? I'll tell you what sucks about Moab. What sucks about Moab is driving through it and not having time to stop and ride. That sucks.

I left Provo at 1pm today and blazed a trail up and over, across, and down to my eventual stopover point: Durango, CO. I knew Moab was on the path, but I wanted to get as far as I could before nightfall. I'm constantly paranoid about hitting a deer. But, just because you are paranoid, doesn't mean that all deer aren't out to get you. This was proven to me when I had a small heard of them dart across the road in front of me. Fortunately I was ready for them and managed to slow down and simultaneously honk at Bambi's.

One of the many spledid things about Utah, particularly the area around Moab:

And who needs to pay for a roadside billboard? Just paint some big ass letters on the nearest slab of rock:

Good thing I wasn't on the current devil's highway!

So, now I'm in Durango staying in a hotel that I'm pretty sure is next to the Durango projects. There was a dude in an all white track suit standing outside when I drove by the parking lot. I later walked out to the car and saw him out there again. I'm guessing he's dealing drugs. If you don't hear from me for a while, it could be a result of being next door to a crystal meth lab that pops the top.

Tonight I did something I haven't done in a very long time. I ate at Taco Bell. It's just outside the door, see, and I had all this change in my pocket and well they've got this value menu. Fear not, I did NOT have any meat products. A buck three-niner got me a bean and rice burrito. Even Taco Bell can't mess up opening a can of refried beans and rolling them with some rice in a tortilla.

Here are some things I've learned from this trip:
-Brent and Valene are among the most ace people I know. Thanks so much for your friendship and hospitality. I know it's not easy having people show up, spend a week in your house, and have their stuff explode all over the place. You provide a welcome relief from the routine of bouncing from one hotel to the next. I'm lucky to know you.
-Tori doesn't really have a black heart. I'm pretty sure that's physiologically impossible if someone is alive.
-I should never go watch shopping with Kris, unless I have a large cache of cash to spend.
-It really is possible to drive with a goat in a minivan, although the reasons are still unclear as to why one would care to do so.
-Utah is gorgeous.
-Bob Roll is only a little bit crazy, and really it's in a good way.
-The Comfort Inn in Durango is next to a den of scariness.

Tomorrow, on to Sante Fe.

Oh, and by the way, if you are posting comments anonymously, tell me who you are!

A Parabola of Things to Come

2007-10-17T16:05:00.000-04:00

Rainbows and black clouds were an indication that last night's ride might be a bit damp. Skipping to the end of the story, it was as wet as any ride I ever did in the UK. Proper downpour, complete with lightening and thunder. It was a hoot though! The rain may have soaked our group to the bone, but it did nothing to dampen our spirits. I'd forgotten how much fun night riding, even in the rain, could be. The only thing missing was the pub at the end, which are few and far between here in the heart of Mormon country.

Today we had an early morning demo. Seven in the morning, to be exact. It at least gave us a pretty cool sunrise to see, with the early morning light bouncing off the mental clouds hovering around the peaks. Of course, none of the shop guys that called yesterday to make sure we were going to be there at 7 actually showed up. It was cold, and things got worse when the mix of snow and hail occurred. The first person who came to ride didn't get there until 9. Good times on the demo scene. It's all glamour, after all. Ah well. Hanging out in a scenic parking lot in Utah is never really all that bad.

Then there was this little gem from our second demo of the day yesterday:

Guess the park didn't have to pay for that part of the concrete work.

The Goat in the Minivan

2007-10-15T14:53:00.000-04:00

So one little tidbit I neglected to mention from yesteryday:

We were JDA (Just Driving Along) when all of a sudden Tori proclaims 'Oh my God, that is a goat.' One glance up revealed what she was talking about. There was a man driving a Ford Windstar minivan with one of those pet keeper things behind the front seats that is meant to keep your pet in the back of the car. It wasn't a dog, or even an alpaca in the back, but a pristine white goat. Yes, a goat.

The man driving the van wasn't some flannel shirt wearing Utah redneck, but rather a man in a shirt and tie. The goat was clean as a whistle, but a bit skittish. As we rolled up next to the van the caprine had a bit of a meltdown and tried to run. It was unfortunately met with the other side of the van which caused it to sort of ricochet back to an upright stance.

I, of course, was without a handy camera to take a picture of this, so we slowed down to let him catch up to us while Dax grabbed my camera from my pack in the back of the car. Unfortunately, the man exited the highway and we were left with trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Some possible theories:

1) The man was on a date. With the goat.
2) It was a sacrificial goat.
3) The man was on his way to a date, and the goat was a present.

Any thoughts?

A side note: Chef Chris Cosentino won the challenge on last nights' "The Next Iron Chef". Way to go Chris!

Utah in the Fall

2007-10-14T22:27:00.000-04:00

Brent mixing it up with the aspen trees

Today was a test of that fine line between epic and stupid. Brent, my Utah sales rep and all around ace guy, wanted to show a few of us his favorite trails. Payson Canyon was the location, and the starting elevation was 8000 feet. It rained pretty significantly yesterday, so we headed up the mountain unsure of the trail conditions. We hoped for the best, and unfortunately were met with the worst.

The mud we encountered wasn't simply mud, it was like riding in a cement mixer. The bikes became like rebar for freshly laid concrete foundations. Every once in a while we would come to a section of trail that made us think maybe the worst was behind us. We shed some of the mud from the tires and the bikes, and settled in for what promised to be an ace ride. Then we'd hit another section of the sticky, claggy paste. In the end, we rode for all of about 2.5 hours and covered a whopping 3 miles (maybe?).

We headed back to Brent's house where his wife Valene had made an absolutely stellar pot roast dinner complete with mashed potatoes AND mashed sweet potatoes! Nothing like some delicious stick to your ribs food after a tough day on the bike.

A Sad Day for Mountain Biking

2007-10-10T16:31:00.000-04:00

Shred in peace, Richard. Photo courtesy of Dan Barham

Richard Juryn was the kind of guy that you liked the moment you met him. His enthusiasm for life was infections, and he could brighten anyone's day with a simple hello. He was always genuinely glad to see people he knew. He died trying to save the lives of his friends.

His death is a tragic loss to the mountain bike world. I, for one, will miss him a great deal.

My deepest sympathy goes out to Jill and the kids.

Allez cuisine!

2007-10-08T02:01:00.000-04:00

My friend Chris Cosentino is competing to be The Next Iron Chef on the Food Network. The first episode in the series was tonight, and he made it into the next round.

Chris is an avid cyclist, particularly of the singlespeed 29er ilk. I mentioned him back in 2005 on the now defunct Fit for Women blog during a visit. At the time, he was the only chef in the world sponsored by Red Bull.

Anyhoo, he's a top guy and I'm very excited for him.

Moving Like A Banana Slug

2007-10-06T21:43:00.000-04:00

The internet is about as fast as I was on the bike today. I can now add Santa Cruz to the list of places where I am the slowest person to snap feet into pedals.

I went out for a beautiful ride with my friend Thanita (also of Dirt Rag, and recently-moved resident). We pedaled through town to make a couple of errandy stops along the way, then headed up the hill to the campus of UCSC to hit some trails there. We used the campus trail network to get up to the top of Wilder Ranch, enjoyed the amazing view of the other side of Monterey Bay for a bit, then headed back down into town. We stopped at 99 Bottles for a couple of pints and some Snackey Cakes, then back to the Bontrager house, which is where I now sit after a fresh shower and a bit of chocolate. Total ride time was somewhere between 3-4 hours.

I was just reminded that I went on a bit of shoe shopping frenzy in Vegas. Is four pairs of shoes too much for one day?

Bushwhacking Death March

2007-10-05T00:12:00.000-04:00

So, I find myself in Santa Cruz for a week. I was due to be in LA this weekend for a big, multi-day demo with our West Coast demo guy Matt, but the dealer cancelled. They didn't want to pay the permit fee to the park to have us there. Bollox. I was in Lost Wages for Interbike, and had a choice to make. I could either head home and then go back to Salt Lake for next weekend's Breast Cancer Awareness ride, or I could go to Santa Cruz and hang out at Chez Bontrager and do some really good riding to make up for a week off the bike at the tradeshow. Hmm...

I got together with Ferret/Fez/Ferrentino last night and found out that Maurice (of Dirt Rag Mag) was also in town. He mentioned that he might come here after Vegas as well. He was shacking up at Mike's for a night and after an evening out I was invited back to my future place of residence for some more comraderie, with the potential for some whisky drinking. The latter didn't happen since I got there late after gathering up my things and burying my head in the new issue of Decline as soon as I crossed the threshold of the house.

The plan was to get up and have breakfast down at Whale City Bakery, drop a car off and shuttle back up to the house. Mike had planned an outing on trails accessible from the top of the hill where he lives. I've done some of them, but others would be new to me. We'd ride for a bit, ending back at the dropped off car in time for a late lunch.

Riding in Santa Cruz is hard. There is a lot of really steep stuff, and I'm just not confident enough to ride most of it. There is no such thing as a flat ride here. Mike lives in Bonny Doon, which is 15 miles from the center of town up a very, very large hill. 1500 feet of climbing condensed into only 4 miles. You'd think that a ride from there would be all downhill back to where we parked the car, but that is hardly the case.

We set off sometime shortly after 11 and finished at 4:30. I am properly broken. Mike thinks we did at least 2500 feet of climbing over something like 15 miles. It really did feel like it was all uphill until the last big descent to the car. It may not sound like all that much up, but nearly all of it was on this super soft detritus that felt like riding on wet sponges. It was so energy-sucking that even my eyeballs were tired.

On the brightside, I took out one of my new '08 demo bikes. It's a WSD Fuel EX8. It's not the spec I would like, but that's just because I'm a top-end snob. Initially, I thought there was something weird in the front end of the bike. It felt like it was a more slack head angle than previous versions, and it took me a while to adjust to it and steer properly. But I quickly realized that it really excels on what steep stuff I did ride. Gone is that feeling of being too far foward on the bike. The thing is overwhelmingly stable. I'm lovin' it (not McDonalds. Gross.).

Today though, that bike deserved a better rider.

I've just had homemade apple crepes with ice cream for dessert. I deserve it, I did ride my bike today after all.

Thanks to my future housemate for showing us the way (again), and to Maurice for just being cool.

The Aceness of Friends

2007-09-20T19:57:00.000-04:00

Above: Sara, SteveM, Ferrentino, and you know who during one of my favorite days.

Holy cow...What a trip. I don't even know where to begin, and even if I did I'm not sure I know what to say.

Singlespeed World's was everything I thought it would be. Aviemore is a spectacular place, and one of the things I loved most about being there was that it wasn't my first time to the little village in the Cairngorms. I already knew that the hot chocolate at Cafe Mambo is stellar, and I already knew that it would be the source of much shenanigans and evening revelrie. I already knew about that little piece of secret singletrack that runs along the paved bike path out to Bothy Bikes, and I already knew that the ride out to the race course was full of head-turning views.

I suspected that having my best friends in the world from the UK, and some very good friends from this side of the pond in the same place at the same time was going to make it hard for me to decided who to talk to and when. Fortunately, everyone mingled together and got along famously-mostly outside of Cafe Mambo. The Unofficial SSCW Headquarters. I hate to use the term 'partying hard' simply because it sounds all a bit too college frat party. It also suggests that things were less than civilized. The reality of it is that there were many nights (consecutively) that involved staying up until the wee hours of the morning, but I think we were all having so much fun just chatting and laughing, and watching Biff on the dance floor, that we didn't want it to end. Big nights out, followed by big days out on bike rides, with big purple hills and open moorland. How much better could it be?

There are just so many things to remember from the trip. I'm afraid I've already forgotten things that I really don't want to forget. Time with people that really do feel more like family than merely friends. Time in a place that I'd give my big toe to live in. Time away from all the shite that is happening in the world. Real ales, single malts, singlespeeds. I'm at a loss for much else.

And of course, there's the Random Canadian, and The Most Beautiful Man in the World, and Sara, my protagonist in crime, and Fez Ferrentino the 'shoulder' for the second time. And...everyone else. Life is mostly really friggin' good.

Four Flat Fingers and a Camel

2007-08-29T18:44:00.000-04:00

Above: Jo, Roly, Katie, and Nigel on the South Downs, enjoying the view.

Welp...It's been almost a week already. Where has the time gone? Oh that's right, I've been having loads of fun catching up with friends and riding bikes.

I've done some really long rides since I've been here. Much longer than anything I do at home on my own (at least on the mountain bike). Other than some er, 'discomfort in the saddle region', I've hardly felt any sort of suffering in that debilitating, 'I've just bonked' way. I attribute this to being in great company. What a difference riding with friends makes. I'm reminded how much I miss it.

So thanks to Jenn for slowing down to my snails pace and at least pretending to be cheerful throughout the ride (although I know there was no faking involved), Nigel and Katie for being great new friends who don't mind me stopping along the way to pick blackberries, Tim for letting me crash his party, Biff, Ruth and the boys for being the great humans that they are, and of course Jo for, well, just being Jo (there are far too many things to thank you for in the space of a blog post). Sorry about my carbon footprint.

My gratitude extends to the ever lovely Fisk's. Anyone who has the good fortune of knowing them understands why a visit to theirs is a special treat.

The best is that there's more to come! More bike riding, more time spent with friends, more enjoying everything I love about the UK.

And let's not forget, more of these (which are great):

Mysteries of the Human Body

2007-08-03T18:05:00.000-04:00

This post is a work in progress...I'm trying to sort out how to display the map details from my ride.

Ok so that's not going to happen. Oh well.

The point was to show that the 40 mile climby ride I did yesterday, during which I felt great even though I did about 15 miles of climbing, left me feeling quite tired. On today's ride I felt like poo, and I went out easy on 30 miles of flat to rolling.

Now, I know a bit more than the average person about how the body works, but it never ceases to amaze me that I can feel so strong one day, and like a boneless mass of flesh the next.

I think I'm the slowest person in Boulder on a bike.

Oh, Canada

2007-08-01T22:42:00.000-04:00

Well...British Columbia is ace. By all accounts, I should have a very bad taste in my mouth from my trip to the Northwest. I had two rocks hit the windshield, one of which left a big, traversing crack in the glass while the other left a flare-like ding. I had a piece of trim fall off the trailer (that miraculously stayed perched on the trailer tongue) which led me to buy a torx set, none of which fit the bolts that hold the side of the trailer together. Then the coup de grace came in Whistler when a phone call at 7:15 in the morning woke me with the news that my trailer had been broken into. Dan's bike got nicked, which makes me feel horrible. Good times.

Oh, I forgot to mention that two days after getting over the break in, I discovered that a mouse had taken up residence in the trailer. Never a dull moment.

Still, Whistler or all of the BC coast really, is such a beautiful place. I tried downhilling for the first time and had an absolute blast. I spent a couple of days with Dan and Laura in North Van catching up on some R&R and generally didn't want to leave.

The not-so-short list of places I'd like to live now includes B.C. It's yet another places that leaves me feeling like coming home to Boulder is anti-climactic.

I didn't see any Canadian sheep, but I did see several black bears.

Soul Sucking

2007-07-17T00:50:00.000-04:00

Some bike shops have no soul. I've been to two that are part of a 5-store chain in the last 4 days. The whole thing has this 'corporate' feel to it, and it's obvious when talking to the staffers that the owners and buyer have lost the plot. It all makes my job much, much harder. To make matters worse, chatting after my event tonight meant I didn't make it home until 10, which is when I was hoping to be in bed in order to get up early and do a 'beat the heat' ride. Now I'm tired and want to go to bed, but need to wait just a bit for my very late dinner to digest some.

I managed to get out on the bike today, although it was a later start than I wanted and because of the heat, an embarassingly short 25 miles with one big climb. Oh well, the worst day riding is still better than the best day working, right?

The summary post

2007-07-12T17:32:00.001-04:00

Oy. May 23 was my last post. I'm so very slack. It's not for lack of things to write about. It's been a very busy couple of months for me, as is usually the case when summer rolls around. So, here's a little summary of what I've been up to:

-I spent some time around LA in early June. Really not a big fan of that place. I did some riding, though.
-Got to hang out in Santa Cruz for a couple of days of R&R. Did some riding there.
-Worked my way up to Bend, Oregon. Fantastic place with great mountain biking. I did a long mtb ride there.
-Spent a couple of days in Park City visiting my friend Thane and having him drag me around the great trails and roads there. That was a workout. Four rides in two days. Then my right IT band in my knee blew up. I blame Thane for making me have so much fun riding.
-Worked the week-long Ride the Rockies road tour and got to spend some more quality time with my ace pal Q from Shimano. I did no riding because of said knee.
-Flew to Manchester, NH to visit with my sister and her kids for a couple of days before we all headed down to my parents' house in New Jersey. Did no riding because of the knee, but did get it massaged a few times.
-Got a tattoo
-Flew back to Colorado on the 4th of July and drove to Winter Park to set up for Crankworks. No ride that day.
-Finally got back on the bike on July 5th.
-Went to Steamboat for an event and have wound up staying here despite a plan to go home on Tuesday.

I've now ridden 6 days in a row with no real issues with the knee. Woop!

That's the long and short. Regular programming (slackness) will now resume.

Tall Blondes

2007-05-24T01:38:00.000-04:00

So I got to make a trip to the San Diego Zoo today. It's world famoose, don'tcha know. My friend Kathy works there, so I got to do some behind the scenes stuff, like pet a giraffe and visit the koala barn.

After my trip to the zoo (no, they didn't try to keep me) I went to a little guitar shop and got to look at a 1958 Fender Esquire. It's worth somewhere around 50 large. Whoa.

No riding for the last couple of days, but I did a nice long ride the other day. Not sure what my distance was, but I was in the saddle for 5 hours. I rode to the coast and back. Maybe 50 miles. I was really more in it for the time than distance.

I'm off to Paso Robles tomorrow for a weekend event. I should get some riding done around wine country.

Chamied Up Like A Pro

2007-05-16T23:20:00.000-04:00

How do you spell that, anyway? Chamoised? Chammy'd? Chammied?

Regardless of the spelling, I approached tri-geek levels the other day by staying in my riding clothes for more hours than I care to admit. Only about 20 minutes of it was actual bike time. Gross!

I'm back in Utah again. It's time to be back on the road for another long trip for work. It's the SoCal leg, so that means stopping in Fruita and St. George for rides. I may have discovered the best kept secret in Fruita: Rustler's Loop is more fun when ridden backwards. I was so excited to get on my bike today and the laps I took felt great. I could have ridden for another hour if it weren't for the constant pressure to be back behind the wheel and passing the miles. 'Course I only went as far as Green River in the end, which is only about 70 miles from Fruita.

----

I saw Keane on Monday night. It was an absolutely fantastic show. It partially made up for the now FOUR concerts I'm going to miss this summer as a result of being on the road. The list is now Bloc Party, Snow Patrol at FREAKIN' RED ROCKS!, Daft Punk, and Matisyahu. Stoopid job...

Recent rides:
Friday-Allison's recovery ride/my pegged heartrate ride for an hour and a half. Followed by a mountain bike ride up the canyon and back. I was amped to be on the bike that day. Despite the pain of the road ride, I couldn't resist doing some more.

Sunday-Ride to the Sport's Garage demo. One way is all of about 10 minutes. That was the all-day in the chamois. I got so disgusted with myself that I took some turns on the dirt demo loop. Then I rode home and went straight into the shower.

Monday-Road ride with Thane. His computer logged 33.2 miles. It's essential to include the .2. Fun ride. Nice to have Thane along for company. We rode to Longmont airport and watched planes take off and land for a bit.

Yesterday consisted of riding the bike path to shuttle old Touaregs to the dealership.

St. George tomorrow!

Over-reactions and Gitfiddle lessons

2007-05-10T23:52:00.000-04:00

In my recent posts I've been terribly remiss in not mentioning my sheep sightings. I know, I know...Unbelievable and nearly unforgivable.

So let me back up.

There's a farm along I-80 just east of Park City. There are many sheep on that farm. Woo!
At Sea Otter the trail I rode goes through a small holding that contains sheep. I saw them on the opposite hillside. Yay!
In Fruita there are numerous farms between town and the Bookcliffs (18 Road, home of Joe's Ridge) riding area. It's lamb season and I got to see a huckin' lamb. Yeehaaw!

Sheepspotting helps restore balance as once again I woke up to news of the 'end of the world', this time right here at home. A couple of guys in camo walked into Boulder High School early this morning and were spotted by a cafeteria worker. She yelled at them and they took off running. That caused a media/police frenzy that lasted all day. It even made The Beeb.

Now the University of Colorado graduation ceremony is all extra high security because of this, and there's banter about whether or not things have been blown out of proportion.

I forced myself to stay off the bike today, but I've got to go ride tomorrow to get some positive endorphins going after a day sat in front of the 'This Just In!' news briefs. My other roommate Allison has arrived home from her month-long racing trip to Europe, so I'm going to go get my ass kicked by her on her 'easy, recovery ride'.

Congrats to Chrissy and Judd, who welcomed another cyclist into the world this morning.

The World Is On Fire

2007-05-09T13:07:00.000-04:00

Sheesh...I woke up this morning and turned on the news to learn that there are fires in Florida and California, towns that have been wiped out by tornadoesin Kansas and Oklahoma, floods where I used to live around Kansas City, and a named storm off the coast of Florida well in advance of hurricane season.

Mother Nature is pretty pissed off right now.

--------

I did a women's mtb ride last night at Walker Ranch, a trail above Boulder I've never ridden before. I came across this group on MTBR but had never met any of them. It was a mixed group, meaning that there were really nice people, and some of the people that typify the attitude here in Boulder that I loathe. The trail itself was fun and hard. Lots of long climbing with some techy bits, an amazing section of downhill singletrack, and an unrideable and nearly unwalkable hike down to the Boulder Creek.

I was chatting with SimonDB yesterday and he mentioned how defeating it is when you feel your legs go and you are only halfway through a ride. That happened to me last night (you jinxed me, Simon!!). It was my third day of hard riding in a row, and my gams decided that they really didn't want to work any more on the way up the first big climb.

I really need a recovery day. I've ridden all but one of the last 15 days. My one day off was a demo day so I was on my feet for many hours. I should really stay off the bike tonight but I've committed to another ride with some friends so I can't really back out. Oh well, I can rest when I'm dead!

Shitstorms and Rainy Day Rides

2007-05-06T20:40:00.000-04:00

Long time, no type.

So it was Fruita time again last weekend. The Fat Tire Festival brought Photo Man Dan down from North Van to hang out for the weekend for some riding and picture taking. We had a smashing time, that was until we had an unfortunate run in with some fresh cow flop that managed to splash it's way into every nook and cranny of the bikes, and Dan's eye. Not good times.

Things are in the normal 'season on the road' swing here. I got back from a month-long trip last week and am currently enjoying a couple of weeks at home before yet another month on the road. My riding frequency has been quite high of late. I've been spending longer hours in the saddle in an effort to get fit. It seems to be working.

I started guitar lessons yesterday. I've been playing on my own for about a month. As of right now, I can't feel the end of my middle finger on my left hand.

Not much else to report, although sheep are still great.

Of wine and wheel bags-40 candles for the lefty artiste

2007-03-28T23:12:00.000-04:00

Every once in a while, life throws you a reminder that things don't always go according to plan. This week has been one of those little allusions.

After being terribly overdue in the first place, my new work vehicle was due to arrive on Monday at the local VW dealership. Monday came and went, and no car. Tuesday, I got the call from my usual service guy to let me know the car was in, and the hitch was being installed. I could pick it up at 4:30. It was quite down to the wire, but the graphics guys said that having it first thing this morning would give them time to finish it around lunchtime, and then I could get everything loaded up for my departure tomorrow morning. I have an event in San Fran on Saturday, so leaving in the morning would give me plenty of time to make the Bay Area Friday night in time to have dinner with Laura Bontrager and her riding posse.

So...the car comes 'round. The first thing I did was put a Dirt Rag and Singletrack sticker on the back window. I might not have my graphics on yet, but at least I could repr-ra-sent my peeps with a couple of stickers, yo.

This was a mistake, because once I finally got in the car and looked at the center console, I noticed a gaping hole where the control for the auto suspension leveler was supposed to reside. This is the same hole (that's actually a lilttle storage slot that's about the size of a shot glass) that I have in my current Touareg. I'm the ONLY ONE ON THE ROAD that has this hole instead lf the auto leveler. There are nine people on the road, and I'm the only one that hasn't had it ever. The other version of the Touareg has air bag suspension. The control allows you to dial in the suspension based on the ground clearance you are after, or based on the amount of payload you are towing. It prevents the car/trailer combination from forming a V when everthing is hitched up.

This is a huge pain in the ass for a number of reasons:
-My new trailer is considerably larger than the old one. I could get away with not having the leveler before because the old trailer, even when fully loaded, wasn't enough to significantly raise the front end of the car. When empty the new trailer already raised the front end of the car to the same level as the old one at full capacity. I knew that there was no way I would be able to pull the fully loaded new caboose without that leveler.
-I have the largest territory in the country and tow the most miles. The leveler would greatly reduce the amount of wear on the car.
-I have been asking for the leveler since the days when the new vehicles were still but a glimmer in VW's perental eye. Again, I'M THE ONLY ONE THAT HAS NEVER HAD IT.
-I repeatedly reminded my boss and our logistics coordinator that I would need the leveler, especially with the new trailer. They got the message, and henceforth repeadetly reminded the contact at VW that I needed the leveler, more than anyone else like, for example, the chick that lives in FLORIDA where it's flatter than a flat thing (oh, and she has a small trailer). New cars all show up, who still doesn't have the leveler?? ME!
-VW assured us over and over that all of the cars had the leveler. This is insult to injury.
-Because of all of this, I'm going to have to miss my first big event of the year, one that I was very much looking forward to.

Regardless of the fact that this has been completely out of my hands, I regard this as highly unprofessional.

It's my job to represent the company in a favorable way, and to help women become more enthusiastic bike riders; to further their involvement in a sport that isn't just a leisure activity for me, but a career and lifestyle. Even though my potential influence would extend to a handful of people at most, this is a big letdown for me. Don't even get me started on the fact that it means that my arrival into Santa Cruz is now delayed.

The only way I know how to deal with this is to go for a ride tomorrow. There's nothing else I can do. I'm all set to go, save for the frenzy of packing clothes/gear/cameras and all sundry invovled. So, a ride it is, while I wait to hear the results of the inevitable conversations between the home office and VW of America.

One last question remains: road or mountain??

A very happy (and belated) birthday to my acest of pals, my long distance confidante, my brotha from anotha motha, the keeper of the proper road attire flame, the UCI fashion police chief himself-and hand behind the most fab mountain biking sheep Mint Sauce: Jo Burt.

Pranged by the French

2007-03-13T00:53:00.000-04:00

Wow!

I've had a couple of fantastic days of riding, due in large part to the arrival of the warm part of Colorado spring weather.

Yesterday I headed out with the intention of getting some serious saddle time in and going at a nice, gentle pace. I was sort of aiming for the Jo Burt 50 Mile Challenge, but I didn't want to put any pressure on myself to go that far. I was perfectly happy to stay on the bike for the equivalent amount of time, though. I knew I could probably hang out for a while since I'd planned to stay on the flat side and not push up any serious canyon climbs.

I headed out the usual way towards Lyons, but instead of turning left into the town 15 miles later, I went right towards a different town that was another 11 miles away. Since it was such a nice day, there were lots of little planes buzzing around overhead, and on this new road I saw several airport signs. Being the plane buff that I am I thought it'd be fun to go check things out. When I got to the airport a while later, about 20 skydivers were sequentially opening their chutes. Another lot was waiting to hop into the plane to go up. I hung out for probably 45 minutes watching people freefall for 30 seconds and then gently ride the thermals down to the ground. It was ace.

I spent 4 hours on the bike in total, being carried along the miles by Snow Patrol and green apple PowerGel. I was completely satisfied at the end. I reckon I did somewhere around 43 miles, give or take (probably take) five.

Today I decided to ride despite having a long list of things to do in preparation for a trip to the Home Office in Wisconsin tomorrow. The weather was unbelievable today. I had some bikes to box up in the garage, so I donned the usual hoodie and jeans. I walked out the door and realized that I was entirely overdressed. By noon it was already 70 degrees. Shorts and a t-shirt then!

The day made it impossible for me to ignore the idea of riding. I decided to go shorter today, but throw in a really big canyon climb, one that I've attempted before but couldn't handle because of the pitch. I was determined today, even if it meant stopping to ease the battle between my lungs and the thin air. I made it, and threw in another loop just for good measure. My ass hurt from yesterday, and it was difficult to find a comfortable position by the end of the ride. It was only about 25 miles, but again a very satisfying ride. The first in just a short sleeve jersey and shorts. I noticed in my post-ride shower that I've already got some cyclist tan lines.

I'm definitely in one of those manic phases of riding right now. Despite the warm weather, the trails are still pretty snowy, so I've been doing a lot of road riding. I've rediscovered the joy of the road bike, I must say.

I still yearn for the trails though, and I hope that the 'in like a lion' tendencies of March are more lamb-like this year. I hope Mother Nature takes some drugs to quell those mood swings that normally result in a couple of winter's last hurrah snowstorms.

Montana

2007-02-24T01:31:00.000-05:00

I made only my second trip ever to the State of Montana earlier this week. What a gorgeous place. The worst part about Montana is that you have to drive through the ugly part of Wyoming from here to get there. I was up there for work but planned a day on the snowboard in between events.

Montana is paradise for wildlife spotting. I saw 4 bald eagles and 2 golden eagles. It's packed with wolves, buffalo, elk, fox, coyote, moose, and loads of birds of prey. Let's not forget the scenery. The northern most border of Yellowstone National Park is actually in Montana, and everyone says it's the more scenic part.

They haven't had much snow up there this year, and everyone said that it might be thin coverage on my snowboard day. My timing was perfect though. Just after my event in Bozeman, the snow started to fall...Hard. In the morning the total was 8 inches at Bridger Bowl. That was on top of 5 inches that fell on Sunday night. Bridger doesn't get very busy during the week, so much of the previous snowfall was still on the mountain. It was an epic day. I went with my sales rep Larry, and one of the guys from the shop in Bozeman. They had me going down blacks and double blacks, and in the trees! Stuff I would never do on my own. It was tough, and after 4 hours my legs were toast.

I guess it's true what 'they' say about improving when you ride with someone who's better than you and can push you some. It was possibly my best day on the board ever.

Back in Colorado now, and the weather here is typically spring-like. Warm days followed by snow storms. It was nearly 60 today, so I hit the pavement with Janis for a nice, easy recovery road ride (hers: recovery from racing the 24 hours in the Old Pueblo last weekend, mine from 3 days of driving and the hard day on the board). More snow is in the forecast for this weekend, so it's looking like more snowboard time is in the cards.

It's a tough life, but someone has to do it.

Bob Roll Magnetism and a Birthday Wish

2007-02-18T23:06:00.001-05:00

Today was the prologue of the Tour of California. A guy by the name of Jason Donald (Slipstream racing) nearly won it. He was the 7th of 144 riders to go, and he set a time that none of the greats of today could best, except for the very last rider to depart the start house. It took a lung buster of a ride by Levi Leipheimer to beat Jason's time. It was an extraordinary start to what is becoming a premier race.

The prologue also reminded me of some small world examples:

-Versus is broadcasting the Tour. It used to be OLN. My friend Bob Roll is one of the commentators along with Phil and Paul (who really don't require last names). Bob has some serious charm to him, and despite being a not-so-handsome man, women love him. I've had a few conversations about this with him. He doesn't see it. I can't believe that he doesn't see it. He says women don't like him. I remind him that his ladyfriend is a knock out, not to mention a fabulous person. He doesn't know what she's doing with him. Today during the broadcast they were showing clips from the gala event last night. The had a shot of Bob being flanked by a few lovely ladies posing for a photo op. Phil and Paul asked him how he does it? Then Phil said it must be some kind of 'Bob Roll mangetism'. I can't wait until my next conversation with him about this. Thanks to Phil for unknowingly providing me with heckling material.

-Slipstream is the team that used to be TIAA-Cref. My roommate Damien is their team mechanic. Jason Donald is from Winter Park, CO. My other roommate Alison is also from Winter Park, CO, and grew up with Jason. Both of them were avid skiers (Alison was more than avid, she was a professional ski racer on the US Ski Team). Both of them started racing bikes seriously last year. Both of them signed pro contracts this year. Both of them are already regarded as among the best domestic racers on the scene right now.

-I did a great ride last Sunday (see below) that started at the home of a couple of other friends of mine: Nat Ross and his girlfriend Janis. The ride we did was a regular group ride that starts at the Starbucks in downtown Golden, CO. Jason Donald was on that ride. Today he surprised everyone by coming out of nowhere and setting a time that 142 other riders, including the current World Champion time trialist (Cancellara) coulndn't beat. A week ago today he was doing a ride that included slow ass me. Ok, obviously I wasn't hanging with his pace, but we all started out together.

And most importantly:

-Phil was the guest emcee at the Singletrack reader awards a few years ago. The editor of the magazine was born on February 19th.

Happiest happy birthday, Chipps. I've got a Snow Patrol ticket with your name on it. I take my Rainbow Hat of Projectile Tropical Island Protection off to you, but just for today. :)

Timmeeeeeeh!

2007-02-13T00:56:00.000-05:00

Tonight I had an odd-hours chat with someone who is the closest thing to a brother that I have. Er, outside of my actual brother that is. When I pop online at 10:30 Mountain Standard Time, I'm not expecting to see anyone from the UK on at that hour. That's even too early for Rob Fisk! So, it's a bit worrisome. I don't like the idea that people I care about aren't 'ok'. I want everyone to be ok.

This particular friend, let's just call him Aslant Tom to protect his innocence (as if that were possible), was awake because of an overactive mind. I'm been the victim of this myself. Now, I have to say that there is such a thing as good worry. Bad worry happens because you are generally scared for someone. You know that their well-being is at risk in some fashion or another. In the case of good worry, you know that it's something that doesn't jeopardize the life of someone. They may be in a rough spell, but it's somewhat minor in comparison to say, finding out a bad medical diagnosis, or that there's another disease affecting sheep.

I've got good worry for Aslant Tom. I don't want him to be having sleepless nights, but I know that his mild insomnia is happening because he's got even more good things ahead, he wants to get started on them, and just doesn't have all the details sorted out yet. He'll work through it, and all will be 'ok' again.

And well, as far as I know there isn't yet another disease killing off sheep, so things can't really be all that bad.

Now all I need to figure out is how to make sure the Big Not Really Gayer is fine.

And as long as I'm on the topic of expressing well-wishes...My best goes out to Rob and Chris over their loss. I know both of these people are rock solid individuals, and even more of an impressive force of nature together. I've no doubt that death, although able to slow them down temporarily perhaps, isn't enough to stop them. Big, transatlantic hugs to you both.

It's only 'No Drop' if you can keep up

2007-02-12T00:53:00.000-05:00

I've had a glorious couple of days of riding this weekend.

Yesterday, I set off along the foothills to Lyons, a town 15 miles north of Boulder. Some may know it as the home of Oskar Blues, AKA Dale's Pale Ale/Old Chub beer. It's a quiet little town, and a popular destination for cyclists, either as a pass-through or, like me, a turn around cafe stop. We've been enjoying more normal weather here which means that the riders have been out in droves.

I got about 2 or 3 miles from home when I realized that I'd forgotten my water bottle. Back I went (downhill to the house), and off again (uphill to where I'd made the turn). My legs were feeling particularly perky. Some guy passed me just outside of Lyons, then sat up. I imagine he saw that I was a chick and decided he couldn't just leave me alone up ahead of him. But when he slowed down, I had a sudden burst of strength (aided by a leveling of the road) so I kicked it into the big ring and blew past him. I held that pace for the next 3 miles, all the way to the junction of the turn into town. When I turned around to change lanes, the guy was just rolling up on my wheel again. I hope he was busting his lungs to catch me. Ok, he probably wasn't, but in my fantasy world of being an 'undiscovered talent', he was. He passed me at the light, so I sat on his wheel the last mile into town. I got to Lyons, stopped for my halfway chai, then set off for home.

My legs stayed fresh after the climb out from Lyons, so I started thinking that maybe I'd push a little more than 30 miles. There's a short loop that I do from home when I'm pressed for time but want a ride, and the turnoff for it was ahead of me. I knew doing another 12 miles was probably going to make the last few miles to the house painful, but I went for it anyway. I intersected with a couple of VeloNews riders near the end (bonus: again I blew past the same guy from earlier in the ride, in a small world coincidence) and held on to their wheel until just before my final turn. On the final stretch, the legs went. At the end of the day I did somewhere in the neighborhood of 46 miles. I haven't ridden that far on a road ride in...Shoot, I can't even remember how long.

I got home and had a phone call from Janis, the better half of Nat Ross. They live just down the road in Golden and wanted me to come out in the evening. I was all set to spend the rest of the night recovering on the couch, but was talked into going out by the tag-team efforts of Janis and my sister. In the end, it was a fun night. I got to catch up with some old friends that I wasn't expecting to see, and was invited to a ride this morning. It was meant to be a 'no drop' ride.

The ride starts from the Starbucks in downtown Golden. I knew I was in trouble when one by one, rider after rider showed up in full team kit. Among this group was one of the best road racers in the country. Riiiight. The good news, is that my ace friend Spot Chris Fuller also came out for a ride. This is a miracle in and of itself. He was wearing 3/4 baggies. Yeah.

Sure enough, The pace of the racer boy group was quick from the start. I had no illusions of keeping up with them.

Long story longer, Fuller and I wound up doing the big climb of the day up Bear Creek Canyon. Any road around here that has the word 'canyon' or 'gulch' in it means that it's going to be a very long, sometimes very steep climb. As this one went, it wasn't too terrible. The biggest issue I was having was a sore ass from fitting a new saddle only 2 rides ago. We climbed for 8 miles to the town of Kittrege, found a general store, and reloaded with a mix of chocolate milk, Gatorade, and roasted pumpkin seeds.

I have no idea how many miles we did today. I think it was around 30. Most of it was indeed uphill, and I was spent at the end. We all met up back at Nat and Janis' house and went for a huge Mexican feast. Chicken mole (pronounced: MO'lay) enchiladas. Mmmmmm!

I'm completely chuffed at the rides this weekend. I'm also completely wiped out and could easily have gone to bed at 9pm. The only thing that would have been better was to have ridden the dirt. The trails here aren't ready yet, though. Some are still buried under snow, and those that aren't are muddy from the big melt off. Soon though, my precious.

I hope everyone has had some good adventures on bikes lately. We must always remember these two things:

-Sheep Are Great
-Bikes Are Ace

A farewell to the air mattress

2007-01-24T00:54:00.000-05:00

Last night I slept in an actual bed, in my own house. This may not sound remarkable, but consider the fact that for the majority of my tenure here I was sleeping on an air mattress. I was pretty comfortable, I must say. I'd pimped it out with a featherbed top, a nice flannel sheet, and the worlds fluffiest duvet. I'd by lying if I said I didn't have many peaceful nights on it. As an added bonus, I think I actually got stronger legs hoisting myself up from next-to-ground level every morning. But, it was still an air mattress, and I always sort of felt like I was camping in my own house. So, when the opportunity came to get a real box spring and mattress on the cheap from a friend, I jumped. You may recall a similar post the last time I had an actual bed (that lasted about a month). In it, I mentioned that my first night's sleep on it didn't fare to well, and last night was similar. It might be my bed now, but I haven't formed that essential bed/sleeper bond with it yet.

This morning I motivated myself out the door for some snowboarding. What a fantastic day. I went to Loveland ski area, which is on the Continental Divide. At one point, I sat down to lash down my board. When I was done, I just took a look around. I was sitting at 12.040ft with an amazing panorama of white peaks around me. Most of Loveland is above tree line, so the view of the Rocky Mountain peaks was unobstucted at that altitude. I looked to my right at the wall of snow that rose above, and realized I was looking at the very line that delineates the fate of flowing water. Wicked.

The snow is finally starting to melt here in town. People are already back on bikes riding around. Pretty soon I'll be able to attempt a Colorado Epic Day: board in the morning, ride in the afternoon.

For now, I'll be enjoying another night of sleep at an altitude of 3 feet off the floor.

Hard lessons

2007-01-23T02:20:00.000-05:00

Human relationships are such frail things. One minute, you think things are fine. The next, everyone has their fur up in a bunch and things are suddenly blown out of proportion. No one can remember exactly how it went wrong. Accusations are made. Defenses are presented, and in the end a bunch of folks are standing around going 'what the fuck just happened?'.

I'm going through this right now. I'm trying very hard to figure out where I am at fault. I don't want to be one of those people who doesn't accept the responsibility for their role in things like this. In this particular case, I really have no idea what I did. I thought I was handling things just fine. Being helpful, even. And now, I'm basically not welcome on a forum that I've always held in high regard.

Human relationships on the internet are even more frail than in reality. If I were a sociology major, I could write one hell of a thesis on the interatcions that take place on internet forums. I know I'm not supposed to care, but when the forum involves people you know personally, then the situation takes on a very different look and feel. It's not simply a matter of arguing with some faceless tosspot anymore.

You know what?? I think it's time for me to go a bit incommunicado. Expressing my opinions has caused nothing but grief. I've done far too much talking. I need to get back to making myself happy, and stop relying on the way I'm treated by others for the source of my happiness. I used to be fairly good at this. Lately, so much of how I feel has been tied up in staying in touch with people in far off places, or in seeking recgonition as a resource to other people. I've got to just be me, and if people respond favorably to that, then great. I'm sure no one wants to be around me in my current state of mind. I don't even want to be around myself.

So, if I seem to drop off the face, please don't mistake that for not wanting to hear from people. I just need to get myself back to some state of normalcy before I alienate everyone I care about outside of my family.

$12,877

2007-01-11T02:16:00.000-05:00

Over the course of the last couple of weeks, I've come to a harsh realization. The only person I can depend on, is me. I know this isn't some grand revelation to most people. It isn't even to me, but for the first time I'm taking it personally.

A good friend of mine set me straight on a few things in a rather lengthy email reply to my even more lengthy email rant. In it, she broke down some fundamental differences between men and women. She reminded me that men 'don't spend a single second of the day thinking about our feelings.' It may be a gross generalization, but as my level of life experience grows, I'm beginning to think that there's more truth to this statement than I care to admit. This is where me becoming more cognizant enters the picture. I've been letting things sink in since my initial reading of the email. I've concluded that people really do adopt an 'out of sight, out of mind' attitude. Care and concern only extends so far. The best part of friendship, is the ability to walk away when one feels like the relationship has become too much of a burden. If things can't be shiny and happy, then it's time to cut and run. I waste a lot of time wishing that people would find some value in knowing me.

This isn't an easy pill to swallow. I've always thought that at least someone had my back. How naive was I!?

2007 hasn't started off very well. It's ok though, since my New Year's Resolution means I don't expect anything good to happen. It seems a bit early to start wishing this year were over already, but with the way things are shaping up so far, I get the feeling that it's going to be a rough couple of years for me. One thing I know won't be happening is some massive opening of the floodgates. 'Fine' is going to be my standard answer whenever I'm asked how I'm doing. No one really wants to hear any other answer anyway. The question isn't posed as an inquiry. It's become a longer way to say hi.

Here's the catch: none of this new-found wisdom is going to help get me through the ever-growing list of shit that I've got written down. No one else is going to help me get through it, either. It's all up to me; I'm on my own.