Oscar, a Triple Eagle, and the Hole In One

Oscar the Giant on guard in the kitchen.

Met krs-1 for a 30/30 ride in Clarksville: 30 miles @ 30 degrees. It was a nice change of pace riding roads that didn't lead to a steep hill at every turn like they do around home. A lot of it reminded me of Illinois (including the headwind), if only there were gravel roads gridded out over the land. We looped up into Kentucky then back to TN. Not enough dogs for my liking, but there were a few that ran and barked. Most excitement was a bus driving in excess of 70 mph flying up the twisty back road near us and skidding to a stop at a T intersection and almost ramming an oncoming car. A school bus. The yellow kind that usually carries kids and doesn't normally have seat belts. Obviously a graduate of the Parnelli Jones school of driving, pretty commonplace on TN roads.


Stopping to relieve myself of some used water, I stood in a snow covered field, which quickly iced onto my cleat and prevented me from being able to clip back in to my pedal for several miles. Eventually we stopped at a church parking lot that had some gravel so I could chip away at the block of ice on the bottom of the cleat so I could clip in. Nothing like a few one legged drills in the cold.

Route leader krs-1

NYPD (New York Pizza Depot) pizza and some Wii golf rounded out the evening. I've never played a Wii before, let alone golf anything. The first 9 I was crushing it with several under par or par holes and 2 hole in 1's (one being a triple eagle). krs-1 took command of the back 9 as I quickly faded and had several out of bound shots leading to pathetic 9 shot holes. Obviously I'm not an endurance golfer. I'll stick to the short game. I think I threw my shoulder out and injured my wrist slinging that stupid controller around. I've also got one hell of a slice. I bet the game is much more fun played in kilts, drinking a 1/5th of whisky, and listening to bag pipes through the highlands (as it's meant to be played).

Lights At The End Of The SSH Tunnel

I've had a few marathon sessions coding in the cave since returning from mountain biking Sunday. Weds brought about a chance to get out and do some SORBA work, but freezing ice and snow put the kibosh on the early meeting. A water filled barn hallway greeted me twice. Once by 5 am text message from Hannah and her colorful 4 letter word, second while trudging through ankle deep mud in the hall to turn out the horses. Luckily, it wasn't the massive water pipe break first expected. I blame the mole hole burrowed through the barn for transporting socks via UPS gopher to the sleeveless sneezing friction shifter. Maybe he should have loosened the sock strings for mountie delivery?

Despite of the 3 days lack of riding and lack of entertaining posts, I've been a busy beaver, er bandicoot ( aka pig-rat, not to be confused with the bilby. beavers aren't marsupials)


I've begun the multi-day Cooperization of the Ocoee and I'm about to head out to meet krs-1 for a mind and leg stretcher up in the flat wonders of Clarksvegas. Forecast was for sunny and 40, we're sitting right at 30.7 with solid gray skies. Perfect.

Uh, Cooper, a little help here...

SouthernXrust coating my frame

I wonder if I post a photo of the SouthernXrusted frame everyday, if Airsaggo will be able to resist the urge to take my bike home and Cooperizing it? The picture doesn't do it justice. It looks like I was mixing concrete with my frame. Luckily it's titanium and not rusting under there, but it needs a lot of love and attention. Love and attention I'm not able to give it at the moment. Maybe tomorrow I'll at least throw some frozen water at it if I get a little more ahead of schedule with my current paying project.

Speaking of paying projects, that little big eared funny elevator marathon sneezing zip tie recycling monkey man told me I'm pro now. (see below)

Does this get filed under SelfEmployment Income?

My first big payday from racing. Normally it's a tire, shirt, or maybe some sort of looks funny on your head trucker style hat (you know the kind no where near as cool as anything Walz). This time I got a sweet bag of schwag, a bag of podium goodies, and a check - cha-ching! Just more wonderful surprises from all that is, was, and ever shall be SouthernX.

Here's a funny if you were there photo of dregs of society dredging up the dregs of the keg to keep from sobriety. Mattycakes, Andrew, and I are working the last of the keg. The tap started acting up and was near impossible to pump. It took 2 holders and 1 pumper. This was just moments before the muddin' fun and the rally racing began. These backwoods roads are the birth place of Nascar folks. The shine runners during the prohibition years started a National past time. We did our best to re-enact the good ol' days on the way to Ellijay for some grub.

Hey Matt, what do you say we finish off the keg then race to Mexican food?

My Life with the Number 3

A racer up the insanely steep g"run"t-up. Photo Credit H.

The first ever SouthernX race was held this past Saturday. JNLR "the roadie", H., the pups, and I loaded up the recently released from the diesel service center truckster and headed down to Georgia Friday evening. All was going according to plan until we hit the gravel. See the road to Mulberry Gap turns to gravel a few miles outside of Eton. Expecting damp, but solid gravel roads we were instead met with very damp, very wet, and very squishy gravel/mud roads. The truckster is not what I'd call a nimble mudder. It's 2-wheel drive (rear) with a very heavy engine in the front. Luckily we had my heavy rhino lite wheels and 900lbs of beer in the bed to help out with traction weight. We slimed and slid our way around the mountain roads, giving it hell for leather the entire way. Luckily the Roadie's Zipp 404's weren't crushed by a maverick gross ton keg bouncing around in the back from the jarring of the road. No, the next morning's mud, grit, grime, and mud would take proper care of those Zippity doo-dahs of his.

We roared into the quiet, sleepy little camp to find only a few stragglers up. Guess all the racers were trying to get a good nights sleep before the race. This is supposed to be a cross race right? So, we hauled the beer up to the barn, set up our tent (it took the Roadie all of 5 seconds to scavenge a bed inside a cabin), then tried in vain to get some sleep. Around 2 am it started to rain, and continued to rain until just before 10am, which was the start time and very apropos as if it's not wet, muddy, and destroying bike components then it's not really a cross race.

After a delicious home cooked breakfast by Ginni and friends at Mulberry Gap, I suited up in my super suit and made my way to the pre-race meeting. As you can see in the following photo, my bike has a black fork, I have on black Swiftwick 12" socks (one white topped the other all black), black knee warmers, and a black EWR Swiftwick jersey at the start of the race.

photo from Namrita's Facebook album.

The course was fantastic, although a bit too much peanut buttery goodness for some, judging by the many folks pushing the death march up the 12 mile grimy, sloppy climb. I had 2 main objectives for the day :

1. finish the race
2. don't walk any of the 12 mile climb

I can happily report that I successfully (no failure here) achieved both of my objectives, though #2 was a test of mental fortitude. I didn't put a foot down off of the Mulberry Gap property. For me that was a huge accomplishment. The 12 mile climb seemed to finally end at a downhill only to kick back up for another few miles. That's where I just started to think - as the peanut buttery goo sapped forward momentum and strength as it kicked up even steeper and disappeared into the fog - 'ok, this is getting to be rediculous'. Moments later I crested the top and the real downhill began. 7 or so miles of choppy, sloppy, twisty downhill goop, then back to Shakerag road, over to Mulberry Gap/CCC road, then finish up with the 1.5 ish mile cross course lap and it would all be over.

Knowing there were several riders behind me with suspension, 29'er fat tires, and gears I let it all hang out on the gnarly descent and kept on the gas all the way to the insanely steep "run-up" (grunt-up really). Crawled my way up, up, up, and up it, then sped around the course encircling Mulberry Gap.

photo from Namrita's Facebook album. Photo Credit Namrita

At the end of the race, apparently my fork got painted to match the ti frame and someone switched out my black Swiftwicks for new ti gray ones.

photo from Namrita's Facebook album. Photo Credit Namrita

I finished 3rd SS @ 3 hours 26 minutes. Will Black (fellow (and actual) Moots/Swiftwick racer) took 3rd overall and 1st place singlespeed. Though he was lucky enough to be testing out Moots' new companion component to their tried and true YBB (Y Be Beat?) suspension, the YBP (Y Bother Pedalling?). He pretty much just sat on the bike and it led him to victory. What will Moots dream up next?

photo from Namrita's Facebook album. Carey Lowery photographer

Eddie and Namrita put on one hell of a race. The racers and spectators were a little too solemn for my tastes, though I'm sure mostly due to the huge efforts put forth racing. Normally with cross and beer you get some rowdy heckling spectators, some healthy bantering among fellow combatants, and shenanigans. The only shenanigans seemed to be people slinking off with the growlers. Despite the quiet crowd, SouthernX was everything it promised to be, challenging, fun, and cross. Definitely a highlight race of the year and one I'm already desperately hoping to get back into next year. Congratulations to all who completed, competed, and showed up. Thanks to H for volunteering, helping out, and supporting me. JLNR "the Roadie" for going down to play in the mud and keeping me entertained on the drive down and back. Thanks to Dish and Po for being good pups and not getting eaten by Smelly Bear or bitten by the rabid raccoon. Thanks to Eddie and Namrita and to all of our friends at Mulberry Gap - the mountain bike getaway.

Extra extra super-duper cuddly wuddly thanks to Cody and Matt (part of the Addictive Cycles Mafia) for the laughs, the muddin' adventure, and for the rally race to mexican food in Ellijay. For those looking for a new ride and uncertain what to get, treat yourself to a trip to Addictive Cycles and steal Cody's bike for a test ride. (Warning: this comment may come at a great shock to a few of you readers. Please make sure you're sitting down). I rode a 29'er that handled like a 26'er, I felt immediately at home on, and that didn't have any of the compromises most 29'ers have that turn me off. Yes, THE bike that could turn me to big wheels does exist and Cody has it (painted bad-ass black of course). Go see him and test ride it.

SouthernX Countdown

Today was a chilled day for once this week. No real work (aside a few hours late tonight), some bike work, a solid 40 mile road ride with krs-1, laundry, gear packing, and bike prepping for the SouthernX going down at Mulberry Gap this weekend. I'm a little nervous. It's been a while since I've been in a cross race, let alone a 40 mile gravel "road" race, so I'm a little unsure about my high-end power and barrier coordination. But more than that, I'm worried about my gearing option. I only have one really, 42x18. I've ridden the roads around the course before but on my mountain geared bike (which is much lower) and they hurt. That 12 mile grunt for Firewater, yeah it's there, remember how much that hurt at 34x19? Yeah... and 95% of the crowd will be on those geared beasts. Maybe I'll treat it as a gravel grinder and just model socks and arm warmers.

Good thing I have a keg of Yazoo Dos Perros and a pack full of Pale Ale Growlers to help ease the pain.


Speaking of easing the pain, I had the pleasure of not one, but two surprises tonight, and the best kind of prize is a su-prise. Thanks to Hennessey and Jen@Walz for the spiffy new Walz cappy. It's the bees knees!


The second su-prise was walking into 12th Street Taproom to Reeves Gabrels playing guitar. Holy F-ing shite!! One of David Bowie's Monsters on stage 10 feet in front of me wailing on the guitar. Very few people I know would even bat an eye at that, but I was stunned silent. Amazing guitarist. Amazing.


Tomorrow (hopefully) we pick up the truckster, pack up, pick up Mighty Calves JLNR and his uber bling wheels, and head down to Mulberry Gap and the SouthernX.

Renaissance Man in Training

So synchronicity, irony, and luck reared their heads at me again over the weekend and the past few days. I happened to be at the right place at the right time with the right app running (one I'd not launched in close to 4 years). That led to some rapid prototyping and an online web meeting. Out of the rapid development was the beginnings of a new niche app. A meeting, a day later, was met with a list of Metro agencies interested in purchasing the app, one Agency who has purchased it, and a deadline. Looks like I'll have something to occupy my time through February.

Irony came in when I went in for a pre-arranged interview today. They told me about their needs and their current apps. As we talked, I realized they might be interested in the new direction I'm exploring. They are. We'll see where it goes, but suffice to say you may be seeing some of my stuff in a social networking application near you. If you're extra special lucky, you might get to see it in a CAD(dispatch) or RMS .

Good luck came in with being able to focus energy and time on both these opportunities with a healthy work/life balance. Bad luck as the truck starter(?) going out and having to be towed to get fixed (nothing diesel is cheap). Humility lessons and reminders that life can kick you just as soon as it picks you up. Luckily I bounce pretty well (it's what Tiggers do best) though I must admit to being a little slow to get back up sometimes.

Funny where a conversation can take you.

Phases of my day:

The anti-tie guy in a tie

The man in black, heading out for a ride

Muckman ready to clean stalls

How To Effectively End An Argument

Whilst riding on the singletrack, Hennessey decided to show off his mad skillz by riding down a slippery, twisty, gnarled descent with his stem bolts loose and a flat tire. While changing his flat, the rest of us stood upon our steeds and chatted. The newly cleaned and re-cabled Black Death has top tube routed brake guides and one of the sharp edges happened to snag my Nike cycling shorts.

These shorts are 3 years old and the best shorts I've ever ridden in. They have typical nylon/lycra panels and a good chamois, but the addition of flex-fit fabric on the legs helps keep the annoying tight leg cuff from cutting off circulation. They are very comfortable for many, many, many consecutive hours in a saddle. Unfortunately, they ran $90 and aren't made anymore. I got mine from Academy Sports (of all places) for $55. The snag isn't bad, but it saddened me as it only underlined the short time left I have in these quality shorts.

KRS-1 piped up that he had a pair but they met an untimely death and he didn't buy ones like mine as he is cheap. I countered with my tales of cheapness (or as I like to think of it - thrift (if you get my drift)) to whit OldGreg chimed in with his tales of cheapness. We bantered back and forth a bit while Hennessey pumped up his tire until a lone voice (Doug) reverberated from the back of the group stating:

"I'm wearing Dan's shorts."

Immediately upon recognition of the words and the implications thereof, the 3 of us offered a subtle bow to the king of cheap, then disbursed as quickly and politely as possible. Argument effectively, and decidedly, ended. I think KRS-1 even threw up a little in his mouth.

Triple Crown

Got out for a nice blustery road ride yesterday with OldGreg. The projected high was 42, but I think it only touched that for the 20 minutes the sun was out. The cloud cover and it's cohort, the incessant cold blowing wind, kept the temps frigid. We cut the ride down to 27 miles and headed in for hot homemade cocoa.

Trying to break a record (3 rides within a week), I suited up and headed back outside for a trail ride with H. and the horses. I only lasted another hour and a half or so, then had to get in out of the wind. 5 hours outside was more than enough for this hayseed.

Saturday night the blasted car returned to it's overheating, non-heater working state (despite $288 dollars worth of more repairs Friday) on our way back from a fun filled evening with the Neumeyer's (yes Mike is alive and sends regards out to all the friends he apparently can't return emails too now that he's all Mr. fancy pants with a Glock). $1000 in and I'm right back to square one. Fun times on the side of the highway in the dark and cold. 2:30 am and I'm finally done getting Black Death back up and running from the Snake make-over and all my gear packed for Sunday's early morning Kentucky adventure.

Doug, Hennessey, OldGreg and I motor up to meet KRS-1 for a little LBL North/South action. The plan was to ride for as long as we had daylight and/or stayed warm. Despite the forecast of colder than Saturday temps, the temperature was warmer with more sun than Saturday giving us a little freeze/thaw action on the trail. Slick sections, some mud, and not really feeling like getting muddier as the conditions were certain to get worse, as well as Doug having drive train issues, we devised a new plan. Hop out on a gravel road to the main highway and roll back to the car. Replace the bad cog with one in my gear bag, then roll back up the road to the exit point on the trail and reverse our loop to finish the ride on single track.

Having no map or intimate knowledge of the myriad back roads inside the park, it is often the case that where you think a road will take you will turn up many miles away from your intended target. This is precisely the lesson we learned, though the adventure turned out to be even more fun than the initial trail ride. We meandered on new to us rough gravel - some dirt, and some extremely choppy, rutted out gnarledness - roads out to the highway for 8 or so miles then spun the 8 or so miles back to the car from Sugar Bay (which was much further North than where we jumped off the trail). Ending with a much greater adventure than initially planned or expected with new insight to added loops to explore next time.

I lost the W.I.M.P.Tech beta from Saturday, but Sunday's ride shows the extreme difficulty of the effort better than simple numbers:

Stumbling Around in the Woods

Being prone to sinus issues and just recovering from a bout of congestion, I decided to not ride the past 2 days and instead get some hill climbing/hiking done with the pup. It would also help resolve some boredom. The addition of insulated bibs and mud boots gave me some resistance training. H. was able to join us on our hike today, which we followed up with an equine trail ride since the valley in the back sheltered us from the cold, blustery wind allowing the sun to bake us in it's warmth. It almost felt like a warm spring day back in the valley. Cresting the hill though, was a rude reminder of it being mid winter still. A few single digit nights with highs in the teens are forecast for the next few days.


Two water falls were discovered during our hike. The one pictured above I'd not seen before on previous hikes.


This is the "lake" that they (as in "them") marketed the parcel of land as having "lake front" property. Really not much more than a glorified pond. Dish and the horses didn't seem to mind as they all had fun splashing around in it today.

I unplugged the W.I.M.P.Tech electronic coach module from the bike and carried it with me on the hike. Apparently, it was able to determine the wattage from the rubber heel of my mud boots and compare that with the terrain, mph, heart rate, and exertion levels achieved from hiking, lunging, and hill running. Below is today's beta. I still marvel at the W.I.M.P.Tech's intricate graphing abilities.

Misery Now Has Company

Day two of the Misfit Psycles W.I.M.P. Tech diet. I downloaded some graph calculation updates and a new voice enhancement and got them installed in the W.I.M.P. module while drinking some coffee and reading the rags. The voice enhancements now offer a more personal coaching experience. Though absent are the typical Bruyneel-esque "Venga! Venga! Venga!" or his Ghent-Wevelgem styled "You're the best, eh George. The best!" The W.I.M.P. Tech vocal enhancement offers custom lines of inspiration, such as:

"You could walk up this hill faster. Seriously, get off and walk, you're embarrassing me."

"It's a wonder mommy lets you off the sidewalk."

and

"A few more workouts like these and we might get to forgo the training wheels. Though, I wouldn't get your hopes up."

I could really feel the pain and humiliation in todays workout better than yesterdays W.I.M.P.y experience. A few more modifications and updates and this electronic coaching device will be ready for the masses. Here's the 'beta' from todays ride. The updated graphing calculations make the results of my efforts more legible than ever before.

Testing the Kerkovian Method

Not having the finances (nor attention span) for any SRM/Powertap/heartrate reading/wattage determining gizmos, Coach Lil' P was kind enough to hook me up with one of the new top secret and still in R&D phase Misfit Psycles Workout Improvement Measuring Psyclometer, or W.I.M.P. Tech as it is more commonly referred.

The balmy 34 degrees and somberly gray cloudy day here North of Nashvegas seemed apropos for giving W.I.M.P. Tech a go. I suited up in my woolly goodness and headed off, forgoing my iPod and water bottle. Such distractions just lead to weakness anyway. Finding solace and solitude in the North Nashie hills, the W.I.M.P. Tech electronic coach kept me in the precise zones to maximize my mediocrity. No wasted effort here. No more wondering if I'm doing enough to properly hurt my chances of attaining any sort of improvement. The basis of the W.I.M.P. Tech design is to help one become even more mediocre in a more efficient manner. Check the numbers (or "beta") if you don't believe me. Graphs don't lie, though this one may need to spend a little more time in calibration class.

Livin' La Vida Sharpie

After a 46 minute ramble left on my therapist gRant's voicemail, I quickly called Caesar to inform him the solitude and tranquility of the first 8 days of 09 were just but a mere gift. Back to my daily 3 am mental jab phone calls and playing up his paranoia (yes they are).

Finally arriving at my place of arrival, plans for 2012 were laid in stone (or at least Illustrator and some html code). Hanging out with Sharpie is always good for the soul. It's also good for the stomach, fresh cabbage and carrot stir fry. The hours between 10 and 2 were spent knocking around some ideas and working on a few projects, all the while bantering about life, living, and dealing with those who cause increased blood pressure.

"Wait, I thought you were all beer and bikes? What's with this hippy group hug crap?"

Ah, reader, you know me too well. The plans for the day just used "work" as an excuse to get together for bikes and beer. See, lil' V was out at school for Thursday, freeing Sharp up for a few hours so we could work on a project (laptops + wifi yo). But why waste a whole day working?

Eastside Hennessey, Sharp, and me rolling out the school bus.

"Whoa! Daddy brought clowns today!"

The look of jealousy from car victims and a friendly wave from BikeMan.

Buckling up the bundled bundle.

Ready for transport. Pink Wooby powers activated.

Heading home in the bike lane.

Treated to hand popped, custom popcorn creations. This one was the bomb. Peanut butter, brown sugar, confectionery sugar (added for grip), and other secret ingredients. Yo Gabba Gabba!

Hanging out with the Cricket was the highlight of the day. Definitely a cross training activity trying to keep up with the bundle of excess energy. We hung out until mommy came home at 7 then high tailed it to the brewery to meet up with squish and friends. Thanks for the beers Jeffy, as usually it's much appreciated and too kind. It was great to get to chat with Wendy too. She's a bad-ass female mtb rider (and Jeffy's much better half) and it was interesting hearing her take on some of the local trails and what they offer different skill level riders. A perspective all trail activists should take into consideration.

No photos of the night time shenanigans (Hey Mike, what's that place you like to eat with all that goofy sh*t on the walls?) as 25 degrees + frostbike on 2 fingertips made glove removal a need only based operation while out riding. We ended the day where it began. Another East Side memory made.

Can I Borrow a Cooper?

WARNING (Airsaggo and krs1): The following images are disturbing (for you clean freaks) and could cause sweating, convulsions, facial ticks, and uncontrolled urges to run home and clean your bikes. View at your own risk. You've been warned.

Snaps of Black Death in battle scar mode. That pinched tube will be patched and repacked into the pack of doom. Or as Jeffy likes to refer to it as my "pouch". Please refer to it by it's proper name though, the Fanny Pack of Doom!

Hating backpacks, camelbaks, and even disliking the wingnut, the Fanny Pack of Doom allows me to carry a full size 8mm allen, park multitool, 3 tubes, 3 co2, Crank Bros pump, extra chain links, power links, zip ties, tire levers, patch kit and still have room for luxury items. I don't have to fiddle with trying to crawl out of it when wet/sweaty/muddy to access items, it can be spun to the side or front when working on the bike making it easy to get to things and put things back, it doesn't rub holes in my shorts, it can be tightened to act as a hernia belt (talk with your doctor to determine whether or not you are healthy enough for a faux hernia belt), and most importantly the weight doesn't raise my center of gravity, or get in my way. (wow, such impassioned prolific prose about a fanny pack, defensive much Thad?)

Combine the Fanny Pack of Doom with my Epic Designs frame bag and you've got the basis for a solid ultra-endurance set up. Kind of the bike version of the old school station wagon before the rear facing 3rd row seats. Fake or real wood paneling optional. Though this would be my pick.


I knocked off the dirt with my pit kit brush (a favorite and much used gift from the EMIL 2 xmas's ago), hand washed with warm water and dish detergent, then a coating of LUST. Not quite what I'd refer to as 'pulling a Cooper', but it meets my clean bike criteria. For one, my bike sat covered in filth for 3 days, Cooper'd never last that long with a dirty bike. Secondly, I don't have one of those magnifying bendy pixar lamp thingies nor the hepa filtered, O.R. sterile operating environment complete with bike autoclave to burn off all contaminants.

I prefer to just knock the dirt off and go over the frame for cracks/new rust then focus on the drive train, which is the one area I'm probably more Cooper than Cooper and more Keith than krs1. Although I'd never move someone else's seatpost height to prevent their saddle from touching my bars/brake lever/imaginary no fly buffer space surrounding the bike, there are some (cough *Keith* cough) people out there who might.


Even my 'clean' pics bother you don't they Coop? That line of dirt around the headset, the dirt on the brake adapter, the scratches in the finish? Pleasant dreams.

The Wisdom of Papa Chen

pinching pennies by snake creek sink camping
photo credit: krs1
(Merry Christmas Pedur, figured you could have lots fun with this one)

Things have been very different the last 4 months. It's been (and continues to be) a struggle as finding a job has been illusive. I'm stuck in between the not hiring quickly corporate world and the 'you're too qualified and won't stick around long so not worth out time' world of Lowes/UPS/Kmart/Taco Bell. Kind of dumb. I could not list my recent employment history, but how would one explain not working since 1991? I guess my resolute manner probably nixed one opportunity. It started out with a question of "Are you and anti-tie guy, Thad?" Then ended with me stating "If getting a job came down to whether or not I had a tie on and not based upon my qualifications, then it's probably not the job for me."


At the same time, I've become extremely wealthy on the friend front. Despite it taking several weeks for me to feel like wanting to interact in public again, they've all been there for me. Even yesterday, sitting drinking coffee and checking email waiting for a response from yet another human resourcer to contact me with a phone interview time, an email from facebook came out of the blue. Just by coincidence the first friend I can recall ever hanging out with happened to wonder if I was in the system and searched, finding me on, of all days, my birthday. His family moved away when we were young and we lost contact. Then out of the blue, I happened to be visiting the hometown one Friday night during college and he happened to roll up in the parking lot of K-mart and find me. The good ones are always the best ones.


The rest of my birthday went well. I started to chisel a little bit of the dried mud off Black Death so I can strip him down and prepare him for the next assault on Snake. Hoping to get to REI later today for some new cables and brake pads (thanks for the gift cert StevieMac) as both are in dire need of replacement. My slumlordess Hannah inquired about riding into Joelton so she could mail some stuff, but I had intended on riding to Springfield then to Ridgetop to pay the speeding ticket (first one in 20 years, dammit!) I got before Christmas. So around 2:15PM I stop tinkering with Black Death and got ready to ride, realizing that City Hall closes at 3:30. So my ride with Hannah turned into a time trial to Ridgetop for me. I waited for Hannah in Ridgetop then we rode home in the freezing rain, my hands bearing the brunt of the cold.

Once home I was greeted with a hot cup of homemade cocoa from H. and stood near the gas heater to thaw out. I'm loving the new tires on the road bike. It's refreshing being able to ride down a slippery wet descent and not worry bout the bald, gashed open tires failing. Feeling a craving for Sushi, I decided upon Papa Chen's for my birthday dinner (all you can eat for $9) then chilled out on the couch with a night of Pixar films.

Slumlord Joe and Slumlordess Hannah surprised me with a Hannah made cake (carrot with coconut, jealous 8Ball?) around 10, so I popped some beers and enjoyed the company and cake. Like I said, rich with friends.

Resolute

Sitting on the couch listening to Kings of Leon's 'Only By The Night' album ( a little pre-birthday iTunes gift to myself) I've been reflecting upon the last week and the past year in general. Many changes, many new friends, some lost friends. 08 was one hell of a ride.

Normally I'd write up some sort of race recap from Snake, being the first Sunday in January, but I think I'll pass at the moment. I didn't achieve my 3:45 goal, but not for lack of trying or fitness. There's a lot about my effort and result that I'm happy with and going to hold close to my chest for the time being. Sodium Pentathol be damned.

H. and I drove up to the frozen North to visit with the family over the New Year Holiday. It was a great visit. Dad got me a Red Ryder BB Gun (sorry no compass in the stock) and my brothers and I had a good time shooting in the back yard. Nick didn't even shoot his eye out, though he had some trouble with putting his thumb over the site. A.J. nipped the Deadeye Dick award for his bullseye. We got my Grandma Hoffman a small present for Christmas intending to make her happy, but in doing so, succeeded in making her cry. She felt badly due to not getting us anything (she'd told everyone not to buy gifts this year). She's lonely and I feel badly for her. I wish home were closer to me. Twice a year visits just aren't enough time to get to spend with all the family. I'm going to resolve to keeping in touch better with the grandparents this year.

Rather than recapping the year, I'm going to give out some props to a few small businesses that went above and beyond for me this year. They all make great products, have incredible customer support, and are deserving of much more appreciation than I can show them. I consider each of them friends, despite only email conversations with many.

Epic Designs: Product find of the year for me. Eric Parsons was heading out for a trip when I inquired about ordering a bag for Trans Iowa. Despite a short time frame, me not getting the check mailed out as early as I'd hoped, he delivered before he even had hold of my check. The frame bag is my favorite way to haul gear on the long rides and races. Performs flawlessly and has me dreaming up a few more custom gear bags to order. Hand made in the USA (Alaska even).

Walz Caps: Jen and Co are the bomb. I'm never without a Walz cap, if it's not on my head it's in my pocket or in the lid pocket of my messenger bag. Best hats out there, period. Hand made with a splash of love in the USA (over on that West coast of ours).

Swiftwick Socks: Even though they sponsor me through product (enjoying testing some of their killer arm warmers at the moment), I love to baffle the heads of state in the company by ordering and paying for my socks. The socks are just that good. Sharpie and Grant aren't too bad either. Made in the USA (TN in fact).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a filthy bike to tend to and new brake cables, housing, and pads to install.