"I am a Doctor of Journalism..."

Mr. Corey Godfrey sat down with Sam and I tonight for a War Axe Q&A
Lincoln Velo style.

"What periodicals do you read to stay current on events in the cycling
industry?"

"Oh, you know... whatever happens to be on front of us."

"Could you name one?"

"No, but I can see Trek from my front yard."

Tape Measure at the Ready

The end of February just got interesting. Apparently, there's no North American Handmade Cycling Cap show (yet), so I'll be back in Indianapolis pedalling 'wears' and scouting the scene for future events. Look out NAHBS.

If you plan on attending, stop by and say hello. We used to live in Indy, so we'll provide the 411.

"Hey, Nice Tube Socks!!"

On my commute home, I always pass a house which, while able to pass for a crack house, is apparently low budget daycare run out of someone's home. Generally, there are kids milling about and often a few older kids playing football in the street. When I pass through, I generally disrupt the game and so have tried to roll through no-handed and try to get the kids to throw me a pass. So far, no go, but I'm not giving up.

Today, was a little different. Given it was 25 degrees out this morning, I had gone full bundle up, including a new Snappy Caps winter prototype (toasty) and fleece knickers under a pair of mountain hardware manpri pants. This always leaves the shins a bit exposed and so, on go the Chrome 'tube socks.'

Of course, after 5pm, it was 55 degrees and balmy, so the fleece got stuffed in my messenger, which left a nice 4 inch gap of skin between the socks and the bottom of my shants. Stylin.'

With no football in the streets, I didn't even think to look at the crackhead daycare house until I heard the voices calling out as I passed. "Hey Man! Nice tube socks!!" It cracked me up to the point that I turned back, much to the shock of the kids and, with Paul Newman's Butch Cassidy in mind, rode back by rolling up the knickers further to expose the 'tubies' and goof with the kids. After a couple of laughs, I rolled on.

It was a nice way to end the day, but I'm not giving in until someone hits me on a crossing route down 25th street.

Working Girl

Mrs Snob, mid-muse, designing winter warmth and conducting a hostile takeover of the bike lounge.

Progressing to a Prediction

A.

B.


C.

D.

(Laughter Included.)

Driving Sam Crazy Is As Easy As...

RAPHA Cross Roller Race - Oregon Manifest 2008 from RAPHA on Vimeo.

Bending Over Backwards to Stand Up Straight

My last IM from the office to Mrs. Snob today read, "but I have worked until I few moments ago and now I am fucking done."

Now, all I'd like is an evening of decompression with the family and a Saturday that includes taking a leaf covered turn too hot and sliding out in a fit of laughter.

I Get It and Don't Plan to Forget It

Things like the Oregon Manifest show make it obvious why people love Portland. The depth of the scene is amazing.

It does remind me though of a conversation Nate and I once had. He mentioned something Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips had said once about staying in Oklahoma City. The point, as expressed by numerous punk bands as well, was to build your own scene.

We're going to keep working on our scene.

Forks out the door and more on the way.

7" Wool brown and black goodness coming for your feet.

T-shirts designed and ready to be ordered.

And lastly, Cornbread keeps threatening a War Axe interview for Lincoln Ve-Low. I told him to have some fun with it, so I wonder what he plans to ask.

Trips Trips Trips

Three's a Charm?

I've fought with the idea of doing the Granny Gear series solo for a couple of years. The cost Solo always made the decision a 'no,' but when the Evil Unicorns rode Landahl last year, all seemed very worth it. But Solo with no single speed class... I see Chris and Scott are mulling things over as well.

Maybe it's a certain series of hundred mile jaunts and a few gravel grinders instead. Mrs. Snob also suggest the EU go for the series. That certainly wouldn't be a bad way to ride through 2009.

Assorted Snobbery: "Coffee is for Closers Only"

Wasting Days

With both my back pain and fitness level in sharp decline, I took off for a couple of hours today, just because. I should probably also add blogging to the list of things in decline. I think it's time to start looking at next year's racing schedule. Time to put some goals in place to crank up the drive.

Growing Out a "Boonen."

Forgetting How to Use a Camera

Oh, Gary, flattery will get me everywhere, I hope.......

Guitar Ted conveyed that at Interbike Gary Fisher said that the Snappy Cap G. Ted was wearing was really cool and he really liked it. I am incredibly flattered and feel almost famous, well, not really.

Level of surprise that Gary Fisher would like the aesthetic of Snappy Caps: zero, considering his regular attire looks like a Snappy Cap exploded into a full outfit.

Gary, your Snappy Cap is on the house, just place your order!!!

Also, Snappy Caps is now offering its FALL/WINTER MIXER PROGRAM. You get to pick your fabric: wicking, windstop, or wool and then the brim fabric/racing strip(ribbon) combination. Ear flaps are an option too. We still have Ready-To-Wear caps and Custom Cap Service.

Curvature of my Girth

After weeks of feeling like my body was twisting a bit to the right, my back finally bent without bending back and lead my down the road to my first visit to a chiropractor. Now, instead of bleeding lungs and beer hand-ups, I'm looking at x-rays and going through the information provided to help me truly get back on the straight and narrow.

Last week, I had restarted my fitness ball routine. In the midst of an exercise, I felt a pull in my lower back which made me pause, but didn't truly hurt. However, the next morning, I knew there was a problem. My back on the lower left side was sore and my cocky strut was reduced to a bit of a hobble. At the office, sitting became a problem after an hour or so and I decided to get my back checked out.

While chiropractors seem to have a file full of urban legends, my first visit followed the course of any other doctor's visit with a dash of "let us prove to you why we aren't quacks" thrown in.
X-rays and good conversation lead to another appointment where I would be adjusted for the first time.

My appointment this morning started with me being led to a room where my films were already up on a light board. Right in front of me was a picture of my spine from the back, curving to the left near the bottom of my back then slowly arching back to the right as you moved up toward my neck. "Fuck me."

Dr. Stone entered and, though she wanted to give me a little overview of the program, I asked her to jump ahead.

"Let's talk about that and then fill in the details."
"It's not as bad as it might look..."

We again entered a land of information share where I described racing a rigid single speed and she countered with how the spine, and therefore the central nervous system, would be impacted. Apparently, banging around on a rigid singlespeed may not be the best thing for a person's back. Imagine that.

Then came the adjustment. I was surprised to find that the idea that she would be wrenching my body in different directions was an outdated concept. While there was some pressure, most of the adjustments were done by what would best be described as an air gun which looked a lot like a giant syringe.

I went from my right leg being over an inch shorter than my left, my right shoulder slightly out of socket, and that general feeling of being twisted to feeling taller, balanced and even (though a bit dopey as well).

Though better, the back is still pretty tender and I've got another visit on Monday.

Best to everone racing cross this weekend and thanks to Hoss for the event last night. It was nice to see Lincoln's finest for a while and forget the fact that my back had me feeling 70 years old and not terribly wise.

RAPHA Gentlemen's Race

Unsupported. Unmarshalled. Road Racing I can get behind.



"Fun?..."
"No, miserable."

The Story...