Sew What.

Mrs. Snob can rock the sewing machine. I give to you Exhibit A in her upstart cycling hat collection. If you could design these on Project Runaway, she'd be in. And you know Heidi Klum would wear it oh so well.

One of Those Days...

Minor Threat - Seeing Red.

News from the Front

The number of really bad play on words options available for War Axe abuse is ridiculous. (And, potentially a lot of fun.)

"A first sign of the beginning of understanding is the wish to Die." - Franz Kafka

With Saturday's ride being cut short by yet another broken spoke nipple, I went into today really wanting to get on the nod with a long ride. After an late (even for me) start and playful scrapping with Jeff's pup for my gloves, the Avey-a-tor and I kicked it south on gravel for a couple of hours. We bumped into MG along the way and stopped for a chat, then carried on with no destination and time on our hands. Psychology and books seemed to be the topic of the day as Jeff put up with me blathering on about Kafka, The Contortionist's Handbook and, as you might guess, House of Leaves. Sometimes people ask me why I like long rides without a modern day walkman. The answer is simply that my head already has too much debris in it and I don't mean that in a good way. Long live pseudo-intellectualism by bike.

*

I was tempted to close up shop after dropping Jeff at his house and making the mistake sitting down in his garage. However, the knowledge that spring is preparing to be sprung lifted me up and back on the Niner gone fixied for another couple of hours. I've not pushed that big a gear for that long before and now I am sitting in that pleasant post ride fatigue, listening to the crew practice their instruments and mulling over what read comes next. Not a bad Sunday.

Want your glove back? Come and get it!!


Dr. Avey D's up for recovery.

Assorted Snobbery: House of Leaves

Mrs. Snob knows me well and for Christmas she gifted me a book that proved to be more than just a little bit up my alley, House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. Mix portions of Kafka, Nikolai Gogol and your least favorite reference book and you only begin to scratch the surface of this book. Insert a stripper named 'Thumper,' who has ink directing you to the "happiest place on earth" and you start to get a little closer. Then there was this...

"All of which he carefully loaded into a two wheel trailer which he secured to an aluminum-frame mountain bike...

...After two hours he has only managed to go

seven miles. He stops for a sip of water, puts up a neon

marker, and then after checking his watch begins ped-

aling again. Little does he understand the significance

of his offhand remark: "It seems to be getting easier."

Soon, however, he realizes there is a definate

decrease in resistance. After an hour, he no longer

needs to pedal: "This hallway seems to be on a

decline. In fact, now all I do is break." When

he finally stops for the night, the odometer

reads an incredible 163 miles."

Am I Reading This Right?

If TI V.4 is like V.1, we will have had a good training day.

*

Strange day on the bike. Worked down in the drops most of the day and was constantly fighting to keep things upright against the wind. Even when it was at my back it was gusting enough to make you pay attention. I crossed paths with Kevin Burke as I was heading North and he put it well. "I feel your pain, man." If you went out on the bike around Lincoln today, I am sure you joined us in that as well.

World's Worst Photog

Apparently, I shouldn't quite my day job to become a camera man. Had a few opportunities on the ride today to snap some nice wildlife shots and missed them all; nine deer running a fence line, large red tail hawk, nice shot of the capital from a long way out. Tried some, missed others, sad.

Great ride though. Movie topic spawned by local radio. What's the best sports related movie of all time?

Hey Look! Gravel.




Nearly done for the day.

Desktop Drinking Problems

Mr. Smith, thank you for meeting with me today.

Drool

I always liked reading about and seeing photos from the NAHBS. Now, the focus and interest is just that much higher.

17.708333...

That's the magic number.

Last fall, Johnny brought up the idea of doing RAAM on a single speed. With Lincoln already sporting a RAAM vet in Bill Moser, I pinged Rock D on the idea and he fired back some info and appreciated thoughts on next steps.

Research on how to qualify, quickly lead to a 24hr event in Iowa that would fulfill that requirement. 425 miles in 24 hours. 17.708333... mph.

A Letter from My Right and Left Hand

Snob,

Right hand here. For some time now, Lefty and I have been... well... wondering about something and haven't been quite sure of how to broach the subject. We feel we need to ask, "What the fuck is your problem?"

It's ten degrees out, before the windchill, genius. We know you're aware of this little fact because you check the weather each morning. Lefty holds the coffee mug and I work the mouse. The browser comes up, I scroll down... and there's the forecast. We could do it in your sleep.

Liner, Lobsterclaw, Clawcover. It all sounds good, but it needs to actually work. You know the phrase, "I feel your pain?" Well, we know you do because we're your fucking hands. You're shoulders like the arm swinging, but by the time that gets to us it's like climbing into tepid bath water. Really... who cares?

And since when did we get religated to a status below your feet? Lake boots my ass. When your big toe becomes opposable, then let's talk.

While Lefty's a little overly emotional right now, let me come at this with a bit more logic. Please, figure it out. Problem solving and critical thinking can go a long way. You've got resources. In fact, when your friends passed by you today, many of them raised a hand. Perhaps, they were saying, "Dude, Upgrade." You should be able to answer the phone when your friend calls you near the end of the ride. We can all be happy. Really.

But here's the thing, and there's really no getting around this, at the end of the ride, when your bladder was full and you were spending more energy warming your own piss than us, that hurt man, that fucking hurt.

Help us out, Snob. Help us out.

Staying in the Rough

Not so old, but faithful.


That delicious coal aftertaste.



Rolling, rolling, rolling...

Oh So Close

Photo by Showen

Ice Capades Tryout

Hubris Rising

Rode the nine miles to work without issue. In fact, the light snow made it pretty enjoyable. The way home was anything but... I went down three times in about 300 yards and walked back to the office to get a ride from my buddy, Mike. Mrs. Snob was waiting with camera as I got home to call me out for not riding back but didn't actually snap the photo. Point taken regardless.

DHL shows the snow's also delayed much anticipated materials on the War Axe front. Thank goodness Sam is patient as I am not.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

Easing into Sundays may be one of my favorited pasttimes. Today, started with the crew, a vanilla latte, nice breakfast and "The Man in Black." After taking care of several War Axe related items, it was time to get some base miles in.

Iconic Indeed

Out of a need to see something new, I took SW 29th South and just kept riding. I've always been found of the "out and back" as it's the best way to someplace new and brain dead way not to get lost along the way. (It also minimized dealing with the wind coming out of the East so what wasn't to like.) Several hours later I arrived at dead dog tired and sat back with a protein drink and watch Con make a dog out of bottles from the recycling bin. Now it's time to hope the Giants make it interesting.

Better than breadcrumbs

The Window

With the crew involved with two different basketball games today, there was one and only one window in which to ride.  Mission accomplished.  Couple that with a quick morning run and things seem to be coming together.

How Far Can Too Far Go?