"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?

Colors

Cracked Nipple

No, not the kind you try to protect with vaseline and a band-aid under your XC running top.

Jeff and I set out on a four hour tour on Sunday, only to be interupted an hour in by the snap and clicking sound caused by a broken spoke nipple. The man is some kind of jinx as we're running a 50/50 chance of suffering a more than minor mechanical when we get together for a spin. We wobbled the IF cross bike back to the Casa du Cronin and swapped for the Niner. The fixie gear was a little more than I was hoping to spin on the day but c'est la vie. I wasn't about to cut it short on a 40 odd degree day in January. Now it's time to replace the Ritchey's. Johnny gave me a recommendation a couple of months ago. "That boy is wicked smart."

The motivation just continues to climb and the excitement for the season builds. Because this year seems planned in such a similar way to the last two, I'm hoping to plug something new into the schedule. I've even gone so far as to research how long it takes to drive to Anchorage. Not sure 60 hours of driving is in my future, but some kind of adventure is.

Whittle Down

With eighteen people leaving the D Street Hotel at a bit after 9am today, you would have thought it was spring (and with the warm temps, it had that vibe). Within an hour though, it was also obvious that it's January and everyone's in a different place and frame of mind. Eighteen whittled its way down to three as Sir Wilhelm, Sam and I cruised in and enjoyed various espresso refreshments while Sam and Tony place bets over who weighed more. Confident in my gold medal status, I watched a close battle for silver with vanilla latte in hand. In the end, Sam took the silver by a scant few pounds and the medal was his.

Happy Birthday, Sam.

Kanza Over Coffee

Generally, my morning's are pretty similar during the work week. Rise, triple mocha, go through some work email, see the kids off to school and head to work. Today added the simple pleasure of signing up for the Dirty Kanza. With my name already in the ring for 3 races and roughly 410 miles total, I better keep adding up the saddle time.

Anyone else sign up this morning?

Start to Finish

The Sketch

The Stencil



Black Completed

Black up close

Finished Product

The Friendly Skies

One cancelled flight, reroute to Chicago and a lost bag marked the end of my week in San Fran for Macworld. With 40s and 50s replaced by 13 degrees and a windchill of 2 this morning, the lack of riding prevailed over the colder temps. The hands could have used a little more love, but otherwise it was two-wheeled happiness again.

"Once more into the breach, dear friends."

The Streets of San Francisco

Assorted Snobbery: We Are Devo

Just returned from seeing Devo at the Warfield.  I had forgotten how much schtick they rolled with, even Boogie Boy made an appearance.  Of course, there was a certain sadness to watching middle aged fat guys rewind the tape for Office for Mac and have Boogie Boy close things out with a strange anti-computer mini rant.  Devolution indeed.

On the positive side, SF is truly full of bikes, including lines of cyclists this morning cruising their commutes, most on practical machines for the trade.  Here's hoping the iPhone shots come out well tomorrow.

Blackout

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XInkRescheduledXXXXXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXSocksSoldXX

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"The Monkey on Your Back is the Latest Trend"

While I am no proponent of "resolutions," there's also no question the holidays and associated timeoff provide a refresh that was sorely needed this year. With a year long pursuit finally coming to close at the office and newly issued technical gadgets and gizmos, one more trip seems to be all that stands between consistent saddle time and a build up to what will hopefully be a nice 2008, both on the bike and off. It certainly doesn't hurt to have temps jump into the 40's and find yourself riding with friends in sunshine either.

Post title curteousy of The Moldy Peaches. Sense of irony? That would be me.

Sharpening Sticks. Polishing Stones.

Easing Back Into Traffic

The Spectrum

Perhaps the best decision I made in 2007 was the one to let go of the blog, without qualification and without plan. In fact, most of the posts since I went 'under the bridge' were actually Mrs. Snob.

Of course, that's not to say that nothing's been going on and the lowlight and highlight of the cycling year's end turned out to occur within about 45 minutes of each other. With my cross season already fully collapsed and a bad right leg still causing me issues, I decided to go superfan for CX Nationals. The single speed race came early and cold on Sunday and as the event staff prepared to call racers to the line, I milled about silently watching and trying to keep warm. As they started to call racer's up, Marko, Cam Chambers, Sir Tony and Sam were all right together doing what they could to stay warm; Marko rocking the BKB skin suit, Tony in his Trek kit and Cam rocking a damn fine argyle sweater vest. After only a handful of racers moved to the line, I heard my name get called and repeated. Fuck. Sam graciously put an end to it and let them know I wasn't racing and moved himself into the second row. I wouldn't have stood a chance in that race, but the prerace chatter would have been worth it. Despite my working to remain undercover, Cam saw through the winter layers and shot me a hello which made things better... and worse.

Once the race started though, the superfan showed up and it was game on. Tony took off in his usual bat out of hell style, Marko, T Brown and Cam fired hard and things were rolling. Sam, Carp and the Kitten Factory King pushed hard in the cold. (and boy did I get a lot of strange looks when I yelled "Kittens!!")

Of course, Marko took the race, Cam podiumed wearing a pair of these, and there were more folks from Lincoln around than one could count. Good times.

Throw in the holidays, family, good books, Lake boots and a new Wii and it's game on again for 2008.

Merry... Happy... Etc...

Christmas Come Early

Santa's already been to our house and dropped off a whole lot of sweet 6 inch cuff wool War Axe socks.

And for most of you, you haven't gotten a chance to see the War Axe Bicycles logo. Check them out for that reason alone. Supa sweet.

Are You Smart Enough to Read This Blog?

(sung to the tune of Are You Strong Enough to Be My Man)

Credit to Marc for the Blog Readability Test.

Back to Basics

The fall has always been a time of year I've marked in some subtle way, like some people take note of birthdays or the turning of a new year. I often point to the weather, which is a little like someone freshly twenty-one blaming their drunken orgy on their birthday cake. This blog and the blogging world are things I have been weary of for a while and so a change was in order. I try to have enough class not to burn bridges, but I've always been one to step off course, walk down the embankment and sit for a few hours watching driftwood catch on the pillars rising out of water. I would never wish for a perpetual autumn, but it's time to sit and let the water pass by for a while.

Assorted Snobbery: Tyler Durden Asks...

If you could fight anybody, who would you fight?

The Endurosnob Awards 2008

It's that time of year again and, apparently, some of you are ready to begin nominations judging by a few emails I have gotten. Third verse, same as the first. Nominations in the comments and we'll hold the actual voting throughout the next couple of weeks.

Fiendish reminder: Photos can simply be sent to me via the email in my profile.

As I always point out, the idea is to give people props and respect.

Category One: Endurance Cyclist of the Year.

Category Two: Single Speeder of the Year.

Category Three: Photo of the Year.

Category Four: Blogger of the Year.
-----
As always, I'll get the ball rolling:

Endurance Cyclist of the Year. Dick Hickey. (Myth and Legend.)

Single Speeder of the Year. Jesse LaLonde. (The Cheq victory topping an already great year.)

Blogger of the Year. BikeSnobNYC. (The meteor is burning brightly. I hope he can keep the material fresh.)

Like last year, I'll save my photo selection for the actual voting.

Bring it.

Two for the Money

I noticed today that a few of Lincoln's finest hit the VeloNews wire. Syd, Nate and Jesse P all crushed grooved. I shot the fellas an email and Jesse P. fired a couple of pictures back to me, both of which are on a shortlist of the best photos I have seen all year. Plus, the come with great stories.

Nate apparently bounced around like a kangaroo in both the SS race and the A's. At one point, he was pushing the patience of a Cat 1 roadie who asked him point blank if Nate was going to keep jumping the barriers. "Yep" was Nate's simple response.

Yes Virginia, Evil Unicorns can fly. Think you cleared it far enough, Nate?


Jesse was locked into a cat and mouse battle of his own during the A's, patiently waited until the final time through the sand to bury himself and take second place on the box.

RRRaw PowerRRR!!!

Cycleworks Trek Demo Day

It was pretty chilly out at the lake after work, but Damon, Butch and Kris hung tough out at the demo day today. I showed up late and took one shot which is worth about 1000 captions. Butch mid-story, Damon looking a bit skeptical and twilight falling across the lake.

Caption Contest Anyone? (If anyone can actually guess what was being discussed, coffee or beer is on me.)

Decompression Sessions

In an effort to restart my increasingly strange system, I took Mrs. Snob on a date to Haymarket Yoga on Saturday. Despite a great length of time since I've enjoyed a session, I quickly found the familiar flow into the various "painful but oh so enjoyable" positions to be had. Ohhmmmmm is right.

I made the mistake of feeling a bit cocky and, right on cue, we moved to the hamstrings and as the various people around me found their ankles and feet, I gently reach out to my shins. Thanksfully, the vibe had properly stolen all of the competiveness from the room and I settled in to enjoy whatever I could do.

Today, was further active recovery with a spin about town. Just chilling. I also looked further at 08 and now think that WWDC will shot down the NUE series for me. Plenty of other great stuff out there though.

Well, It's Morning...

... but I wouldn't say it's good.

I feel asleep a little after 7pm, missed a chance to ride with Sam and woke up at 2:00am. Now what am I going to do? Post, apparently.

In case you missed it, it's time.

Time to get your postcards ready for TI. Mine has an "Appetite for Destruction."

Time to check your schedule for Kanza. Saturday, May 31, 2008.

And time to decide if you want to take a stab at the NUE. (If I still lived in Indy, it would be a logistical piece of cake.)

Of mild interest is the fact that I first learned all of this from a site I had sworn off, MTBR. I guess I have now reached lurker status there again as it doesn't seem to be the land of intentionally leaked news.

I was going to end with a pithy comment about Dali's Persistence of Time, but now it seems trite. Enjoy your friday. Mine's apparently already started.

Assorted Snobbery: Cleared

My doctor called me today in order to give me the results of the tests on my various bodily fluids. I like my doctor because he listens. Not in the passive "mmm hmmm" 'I hear you but am not really listening' cliche way people speak of when it comes to doctors, but in the "this guy is paying attention and we're having an actual conversation and my input is valued" sort of way.

He also seems to take really good notes because he ticked through all of the concerns Mrs. Snob and I had one by one, even the ones we threw in from deep left field. You can't take good notes without paying attention.

"So, to sum it all up, you're fine. I think your problems sleeping have finally caught up with you. Spend time sleeping in or getting to bed earlier if you can. Eat whole foods. You'll come back pretty quick. Have you wife pay attention to your sleep. We might want to test that, but otherwise you're good."

"So, your saying I'm a wimp?"

Laughs. "No, I'm saying you're worn out."

I laugh. "Isn't that the same thing?"

"No. Do you have a history of paranoia?" You could hear the grin in his voice.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Of course it is. I'm a doctor."

I laughed so hard my eyes watered. I love my doctor.

If I end up taking that test, at least I'll have bad music and worse magazines to put me to sleep.

An MTB Season in Review

Between having the energy of a turnip and Butch emailing me about his recent updates to the Cycleworks Site, I spent some time this weekend taking stock of 07 and continuing to consider how to schedule 08.

The CV for 2007 ended up looking like this:

Ouachita Challenge: 14th SS.
TransIowa: T-7th SS. T-16th Overall.
Dirty Kanza: 2nd SS. 10th Overall.
Branched Oak 12hr: Team 1st Overall w/ Corey.
Lumberjack 100: 20th SS. 79th Overall
24hrs of Nine Mile: DNF.
Manawa 12hr: 1st Overall. Unlimited Class.
24hrs of Landahl: 1st Expert Class. 3rd Overall w/ Mod, Nate and Sam, aka The Evil Unicorns.

I feel like that list should be longer, but I think it's all there. Now for 2008? There always seems to be something that stick in my craw over the winter and gets the bulk of my focus. Last off-season was evenly divided between TI and 9 Mile. This off-season, 9 Mile is already front and center in my mind.

Simply put, I think I choked on single track for most of this year. So, along with the continual, sometimes futile effort to shrink my carcass, more true single track seems to be called for in prepping for 2008.

Besides, anyone who regularly reads this blog has to be tired of me bitching about my lack of skills when riding rocks. I know I am.

As far as the rest of 08, only a return of the Evil Unicorns (destination unknown) has seen pencil turn to pen, but I am looking forward to figuring out the rest over the next few months.

Nebraska CX Day One

Side Notes: I made this with Windows Movie Maker which I found to be brutal. I'll be switching over to the Mac for Day Two. It will be my own little PC vs. Mac experiment (even though I am already bias.)

Assorted Snobbery: Mono-tonal

Visited the good doctor yesterday and got the wonderful news that I either have mono or a "very mono-like" virus that has been going around. I then proceeded to pass out bodily fluids like welfare cheese. Apparently, the ladies who work the lab don't find the Snob very funny. As I walked in, I noticed one reading a People magazine whose big cover story was, "Diva? or Down to Earth." I sat down and said, "Just to be upfront, I'm a Diva." I barely get a grin in return and she starts asking me my name and SS#. As we're going through the motions, I look at the computer screen in front of me and can see from the task bar that someone has a Duran Duran webpage up. As the my pulse starts filling up the vile, I go for it again with, "Okay, who's been Googling Duran Duran?" A second nurse gets a shitty look on her face and snarls, "It's better than today's music." Now I am the one who's laughing, but keep the assorted comments flying through my head to myself. Gotta know your audience, but the temptation to ask her if her name was 'Rio' was strong. Mrs. Snob thinks their attitude was "chops" prejudice.

Test results should comeback today.

SuperFan Powers: Activate!!

Check the dismount!! Though for some reason, "I hate you guys" was Charlie's refrain when she passed us.

Since I couldn't jog around the Microtel with the Radman this morning, I switched to SuperFan mode and headed back to Swanson with Mrs. Snob and Rad, intent on using my new Sergeant Hulka voice to full effect. If you can't race with your bros, it's time to get your yell on.

With a sprint finish and a few "race within the race" pairings, it was a good day. More good footage as well so stay tuned for that and check http://www.nebraskacyclingnews.com/ for results.

Sir Wilhelm warms up business casual.

One Lap Wonder

Only managed a bit over a single lap today.  Felt a bit off mid-day yesterday and that carried through to today.  Suffered for a while but when my throat starting burning in a decidely unracelike way, I hoped a curb and pulled out.  It is what it is.

Switched to superfan mode with a lot of pics and vids being taken.  Hope to put something together during the week.  Isn't that what YouTube is for?

Tomorrow is an unknown.  I'll let the morning decide.

Operation Degradation

With the race categories for the first weekend in Nebraska's Cross series a little tough to decipher for the Killer B in me, I've decided to follow some training advice Sam gave me a couple of years ago and "go until I puke." I know I'll get my ass handed to me. The only question will be how hard my hands will be shaking when it happens.

Photoshop Addiction

In an effort to help get some stylish t-shirt designs rolling for War Axe, Mrs. Snob and I recently downloaded a 30 day trial of Adobe Photoshop. I know Photoshop is old hat for some, but if you like to dabble in the artistic and aesthetic, Photoshop will suck you into a blackhole.

Inspired by 'A Poet's Life.'

Spooky Cross Blitzkrieg

Breaking my unwritten and highly questionable rule regarding miles driven for time raced, Nate, Corey, Jesse P, and I drove to Cumming, Iowa for Spooky Cross today. With Corey planning an article on the trip for the Lincoln Ve-Low, I'm opting for the tightly focused version as a race recap.

Nate's description of our effort as a cross "blitzkrieg" was spot-on. We arrived roughly 25 minutes before the start. This was just enough time to register, kit-up and spin a touch before the start of the race. I rode down the starting road a bit, into a short section of the completed mudded-out grass and back up to the start. Since I am a notoriously slow starter when actually warmed up, I perched at the back of the Killer B's as we toed the line. Nate joined me and we laughed about standing at the back, but the word that a first lap prime providing a pair of Oakley Radar's to the winner had Jesse moving to the front prior to the gun. I kept smiling and stayed put. No one was quite sure of where Corey was and we assumed he was already at the front.

At the gun, Nate and I started weaving our way forward. He jumped through a lot of people before we hit the mud but I eased back, which was a mistake as the group came to a crawl with riders unsure of how fast to hit the transition from road to soup.

Anything not road was rain-soaked bog. I was over-geared (as were Nate and Corey) at 38x16 and just started mashing. With no preride or warmup, I was tentative and the legs were pretty unhappy. A long section of the course followed a lakeside path, followed by a long climb that would have been rideable dry, but not in the soup and not with my gear. I slogged away and tried to stay patient hoping to get loose and make up some ground as my body got into gear.

Near the end of the lap was an intentional run-up with small 2x4s being used to keep people from riding it. This also would have been rideable on a dry day but was certainly a run-up today. As I topped out, I was shocked to see Corey coming around me. At this point, both my hamstrings were on the edge of something dismal and a brief exchange with Corey lead him to say, "Spin it out." "I can't," was my reply, which was more of a "how the fuck am I suppose to do that?" in tone.

Somewhere passed the halfway point of my second lap, my body returned a bit, I felt confident in the muck and dropped a few fellow back of the pack riders primarily with my riding in the mud and an improved approach to running, along with my mounts.

Halfway through the last lap I had one more carrot left ahead of me, but then I got lapped by the lead riders and got frustrated. By the time I got my head out of my ass, I had to let the brakes completely go on the muddy downhill heading straight for the lake and nearly took a swim because of it. I cruised it in from there for an unknown finishing spot. We also saw "The Jackal" who seemed to be riding strong and finished on the lead lap.

I am a bit fuzzy on everyone's spots from there. Jesse P hit the podium in 3rd or 4th. Nate was roughly 8th and Corey, who rolled the largest gear of all of us was somewhere around 10th. Syd also toed the line, possibly in 9th? You might check other spots for further (and accurate) results as Mark and Troy Krause were also there to enjoy some time in the soup.

If only it's rider knew what to do with it.




No mud on the bibs? I am sure the backside's not as pretty.

Corey, what the fuck are you doing?

The Head Tilt

With an eye on Nebraska's CX Season, I've been trying to put in some harder intensity in order to keep for coming completely unglued when the gun goes off. With a throwaway race this weekend, I tried to crank it up before work this morning. About 25 minutes or so in, I could feel my head start leaning over to the left as the pain monkey climbed higher and higher onto my back. Before long, my left ear may as well have been resting on my shoulder.

The headtilt. At some point, after scientist's have unlocked such genetic mysteries such as disease control and what causes boys to jump up and slap door overhangs, some incredibly bored scientist is going to search the double helix for why so many bike racers seem dress their helmet to one side while inside the pain cave.

Of course, they still won't be able to test for performance enhancing drugs with any clarity, but at least will have some completely superficial concern solved.

Snobbish Aside. If you were in the European peloton, why not take a sample of your own each time you were tested? Have some viable third party hold your golden glow, marked and labelled. If the UCI or other concern claims they've got you and you know your clean, you pull out item number two. Have it tested with your lawyer's present and tell them to fuck off. Of course, there is probably some problem with this. Expense. Against the rules. Who knows. It would be interesting though to pull out your own C sample. Of course part two, you would really have to be clean.

Das Commute

I decided for no good reason to document the commute this morning. The only rule was that all pics had to be taken rolling and posted in order. Typical, somewhat boring, slice of life.

Obligitory Shadow Shot


Rolling near downtown.

Fire Drill? No, Fire Safety.

Which side is the wrong side?

Saltcreek. East of 27th.

Nothing says TI and Kanza like Casey's.

North 56th. Brace for passing semi's.

ecommerce wizardry in the house.

and done.

Knowing the Score

"It's always best when things get whittled down," I said.
"which doesn't mean it's simple," I added.

There wasn't much to say for a while after that. It was 3am. Tired from an evening boiled down to conversation, vinyl and a turn-table. Boiled down like so many times before. Immediate. Simple. Shared.

Like Chicago with it's studio apartments, bands in small bars, drums set on milk crates and Maker's Mark mornings. Crouching in the corner of the practice space. Not saying a word. Not playing a note.

Always the music, always the friends, often the booze.

And for hours it had been gone. Amid the punk and the guitars and the beats. I had forgotten. It wasn't until I was on the couch that it filtered back. The anger that floats in and leaves like a dull breeze in summer.

4am came and slowly I remembered. You can't warn someone about something they already know. Everything boils away to nothing, eventually.

"So it was a good night?" she asked.
"It was."

Jesse Hits Velonews

Just opened the new issue of Velonews. Hincapie on the cover. Hit the Table of Contents and my eyes draw to an all too familiar face. Page 92. "Single Minded."

Congrats Jesse. You earned it.

If I Were A Plastic Wristband...

...I'd be happy to be a "Motherfucker from Hell":

More Questions Than Answers

While I couldn't be more excited for Cross season, this is still the time of year when your mind wanders to next season and thoughts of what races keep you excited and what goals you'd like to acheive.

Next year hasn't really come into focus in the way this year was defined long before the calendar actually flipped to 2007. TransIowa and 9 Mile dominated the off-season landscape. Nothing sits out there in the same way for 2008.

Instead, I'm just asking myself a lot of questions.

The 100 miler series? It would require upping my technical game so I am not wasting so much energy on the bike. Maybe a stage race? Pricey but worth it once? I'm also into the idea of trying the Vapour Trail despite the altitude disadvantage.

Then there's the Evil Unicorns... what 24 will we show our casually competitive faces at next year?

As always, suggestions welcome.