Do people get pets because they're not otherwise getting enough (human) affection?
I suspect this is true. (I'm fairly confident that, in our cultural context at least, there are few human beings that get enough affection...)
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
cipo at it again
One of the most ridiculous things I've ever seen:
But I still want one. ;-)
(Thanks goes to these dudes for the tip.)
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Thursday, August 9, 2012
2012 mid-year race wrap-up
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
WADA v. McQuaid...
This ("WADA chief rebukes McQuaid's attempt to assume Armstrong jurisdiction") makes me happy. Or at least satisfied.
Clearly McQuaid has something to hide. Either to save his own butt or that of Hein Verbruggen. It's the same thing, really.
Verbruggen... What an enigma. I suppose it's a bit narrow-minded of me, but it's hard for me to trust a businessperson-turned-sports-federation-administrator. The biography reeks of an ugly quest for personal power. It's hard to believe he's not a small, petty person. The kind of person that holds a grudge. Who sees organizational power as a means for personal gain. And that, you know, is what "corruption" means.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Friday, May 4, 2012
the tanscendental tubular experience
I had a quasi-transcendental moment this morning. Gluing tubulars. (It may have been the fumes.)
Consider the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth sentences of The Rider:
From Krabbe's pen to my soul.
And so I've been gluing tubulars. Beautiful, handmade Italian tubes of rubber and cotton. Manufactured by a process that if it isn't a mystery it should be. The men (they better be men) that make these are like elven craftsman of Middle Earth. Their craft a subtle magic and exquisite art. I would sleep with a beautiful bike part.
The hoops? New 808s. They've a fancy red dragon sticker on the side. Apparently they breathe fire.
Technology as old as my grandparents paired with the latest and greatest. And it's held together with glue. Sometimes an unfathomably frustrating process. But when you can relax, breath deep (the fumes), and focus... Well, it can become something of a transcendent experience. The rite and ritual of that elven clan of brothers. An initiation. Then a renewal. A sacrament. The Masonry of Riders.
Not riders, mind you, but Riders! And what is a Rider? Well, a Rider is one who can only stare when outsiders--those tourists and locals with the shockingly empty lives--ask why.
Why?
I'll tell you why.
Because it's beautiful.
Because the bicycle is beautiful. Because calves chiseled of miles of pain are beautiful. Because of heart-bursting climbs and 55 mph descents. Because of the dirty road-grime spray of pack riding on a cold, rainy day. Because of the shadows cast by revolving spokes on a sunny one. Because of the feel of wrapped cork under your hands. Because of red blood and street-shredded skin. Because of the uneasy glee of diving into the last corner of a 60-minute criterium with nothing between you and victory but 150 meters of empty asphalt. Because... Because we are Riders!
sprint!
Apparently, what I have to do to win a sprint is to do just about everything wrong. But it worked Sunday.
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| For the video, click here. |
Paul and I got up at 4:30 Sunday morning for the NYC Spring Series finale at Prospect Park. (I love the Central Park/Prospect Park races, btw. Just such terrific venues. I'd do them every week if I could.) Feeling frisky from the beginning, I was attacking and bridging to breaks rather wildly right from the gun. Four laps in I sort of eased my way across and past a group of 10 that had sat up for the catching. One little guy came with me, setting a pace up the hill I really had to dig to match. But over the top and we traded pulls nicely until...about two miles later I looked back and he was gone. Paul was doing a great job behind, frustrating the folks that thought he should be chasing (but apparently unwilling to do it themselves) and the gap increased over the next two laps.
With five to go three riders bridged (which is what I was hoping for), we cooperated well and the lead stuck. With one lap to go a rider attacked on the climb, we remaining three couldn't match his pace, and he soloed on to victory.
The picture above is the sprint for second. Which I won. From the lead-out position. With my hands on the hoods.
:-)
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Lake Nockamixon TT
Saturday we (my bike and I) tried to ride fast.
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| Angry speed face Goat. |
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| The snot, man. The snot.., |
So I guess that makes this the first win of the season. But, you know, there were only three Cat 3s and a handful more 35+ dudes, so...
The good news is that my bike and I seem to be getting along ok. And that's important, because Killington is only four weeks away!
Monday, April 16, 2012
podium fun
For a fun (and funny) race report, read what the winner had to say about how it all went down here.
My response(s):
(1) My beard is not bad. It is awesome. Actually it's not really a beard at all--I think of it as the consequence of not shaving. But it's still awesome. (Personal bias, obviously, but beards that require maintenance are girly. Hair: keep it wild and free or get rid of it all together.)
(2) The "He must be a mountain biker" comment is hilarious. Yes, I do like a little fat-tire fun, but I'm sure my mountain biking friends would read that and roll their eyes. (While it may be a little pathetic that I'm still towing the line at Cat 3 road races after so long, I started road racing in 1989...so I think I've earned my roadie stripes.)
(3) But what's really funny about the mountain bike thing is the "roadies and mountain bikers don't always mix" thing. Why not? Because mountain bikers have way more fun and don't take themselves near as seriously? :-) We could all learn a lot from mountain bikers...
(4) Not a response to Craig, but a related point about the Morgantown RR in general: take a cue from the mountain bike crowd and let's have some fun after the race! I mean, I know you didn't expect us to be sitting around for hours waiting for our results (not your fault), but still, how about some music (you had the PA system right there)? How about some food vendors? How about...anything? Road races, besides the actual racing part, are so boring. Anyone who's been to both mountain bike (or cyclocross) and road events knows what I'm talking about. Promoters, get with it, man. Want to attract a crowd? Make your race into a legitimate event! (For a case study in boring, let me submit the Rich Ruoff / Dave Butterworth model. Even when you win you leave feeling mildly let down. For a case study in good, Turkey Hill. I'm totally sick of the race itself, but I'm still going this year. Why? My daughter looks forward to it all year!)
(5) I know he didn't know me or anything, but I can't help but be a little offended the dude didn't think I could climb. (Tell me, Craig, who was putting the hurt on with the last climb, eh? You forgot to mention that you didn't (couldn't?) pull through once.
(6) When he asked if I knew how much further we had I thought he was asking if I knew how far we had on the pack, to which I first answered, "Nope," but then modified my answer in the form of a complaint against motorcycle officials that give the pack time checks but fail to give any information to those in the break. I hate that. Anyway, he didn't respond. Now, realizing that's not what he asked, I assume he had no idea what I was talking about.
(7) On the matter of conversation, I think in total words said I won. I mean, besides the perhaps unintelligible rant against moto officials, I also initiated conversation immediately after bridging. When I caught Craig I pulled up along side and (politely) asked how he was feeling. When he said he could work, I think I responded with something appropriately hip and witty like, "Giddy-up" or similar, then (again, politely) moved to the front and took a nice long pull even though I'd just finished bridging the gap. So, you know, I can make conversation. (I do, after all, make a living from talking.)
(8) Chapeau on the finish. (You deserved it.) I didn't see the 1k marker (as was alluded), and I really should have attacked earlier. Multiple times. After the last climb, in a TT to the finish, I'm sure I would have won. But that's not bike racing, and I was clearly out raced. (Too focused on driving the break, and not enough focused on winning the race.) Anyway, nice work, Craig. It was an awesome win.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
2012 SMSS & Ironmasters TT Series
| Wednesday, April 18, 2012 | Ironmasters TT |
| Wednesday, May 02, 2012 | SMSS #1 - E. Big Flat HC |
| Wednesday, May 16, 2012 | Ironmasters TT |
| Wednesday, May 30, 2012 | SMSS #2 - Pine Grove RR |
| Wednesday, June 13, 2012 | King's Gap TT |
| Wednesday, June 27, 2012 | SMSS #3 - Ironmasters TT |
| Wednesday, July 11, 2012 | Ironmasters TT |
| Wednesday, July 25, 2012 | King's Gap TT |
| Wednesday, August 08, 2012 | SMSS #4 - Caledonia RR |
| Wednesday, August 22, 2012 | Ironmasters TT |
| Wednesday, September 05, 2012 | SMSS #5 - Ironmasters TTT |
Monday, April 2, 2012
asking Nick
I wrote a letter to Nick this morning. I really hope he responds...
Actually, what I really hope for (beyond world peace) is a bottom bracket "standard" that is light, stiff, easy to understand and maintain and, most of all, is actually standard!
If any of the two people that read my blog have any hints, I'd love to hear them.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
grant's tomb 2012
Saturday I had a pretty decent ride.
Totally botched the sprint... I mean, in a three-up sprint the good money is generally on me...finishing last. But this time I totally had 2nd place... Excuses are lame, but this is sort of a funny story so you're going to get it.
Getting my race wheels out and dusted off a couple of days before the race I was frustrated not to find the smaller diameter SRAM cassette lock bolt thingy you need to accommodate an 11-tooth cog--the smallest cog on the cassette I generally use with my race wheels. But I figured I wouldn't need that gear anyway, so I just put the larger diameter lock-ring on... Well, I went the whole race not needing that gear, until about 40 yards from the line, and when I shifted into the 11 my chain didn't like it so much, stalled, and popped my rear wheel about a foot and a half in the air...and of course while up there it floated over to the side such that it's a wonder I didn't wipe out ugly right there in front of the line. A fishtail or two and somehow I held it together, but obviously lost the sprint.
It's all good, though. I was totally driving the break--racing for third, more or less, from the time the break formed. I'd rather work my tail off for a high-probability third-place finish than play games for a low-probability win. At least last Saturday I would. Maybe next time I'll feel differently.
Good times! Love the bike games!







