Cracked

Damn. What are the odds. Hopefully I can get a new face plate before the cowbell. Preferably one that's not cracked. Think Thomson warranties bull attacks?

Sometimes you just gotta grab the bull by the bell

Hey Dicky, need some more cowbell? I think ya do. See yinz in Davidson. One question, Pale or Dos Perros?

Fjear the Bilateral Index (Blister) Brigade.

Change of Scenery (and a Man Cave)

Due to circumstances outside of our control, we had to leave our beloved farm in Franklin. A week of 94 degree heat and no A/C upstairs in the apartment above the barn made packing and loading a sweaty endeavor. It's an unexpected move with heavy hearts and conflicted feelings. We miss our barn family already.


The good news is that the A/C is on and I have my bike rack rebuilt and serving it's purpose once again. A bike/pool/bar filled "man cave" is in the works and the bathroom has saloon doors!!!


The "kitch"en has sweet turquoise push button stove and oven from the Hee Haw era and a breakfast nook to sit and eat.


The bedroom is HUGE-humongous with an enormous walk-in closet. I even have my own cavernous closet in the hall. The dogs are able to roam and wander at will thanks to an electric fence and the horses are frolicking in the front yard paddock. It's quite a change and my wondermous 12 mile perfectly scenic commute by bike has been replaced by a much longer drive, but I'm searching out options for riding.


Since we finished well ahead of schedule, Fixie 8-ball Mooch Mike and I snuck out to LBL (45 minutes closer now) for a North/South trail out and back. There was a race at Mousetail (congrats Adam!!) but with similar drive time plus $40, we could ride for 2 hours or we could head North and ride for 9, we chose 9. 64 miles of 94 degree heat and humidity. The first 15 were pretty comical and pathetic as I struggled to get my trail eyes, handling, and speed back. Eventually the handling came back, then the speed, but the trail eyes took till about mile 29 to kick in. I was struggling a bit for the first 31, with Mooch able to keep a faster roll and was usually off the front. 3hrs 45mins. 30 mins off pace (mostly my fault)

A good head dowsing and water refill at the North Welcome Center and we were back on our way. I'd downed an Ensure at the stop and the calories were a welcome addition to my day. (Neither of us brought enough food). A group of about 10 cyclists left the Center just as we were preparing to roll out. I thought they were off for the 11 mile canal loop, but not far up we got stuck in the procession. Gearies in grannies spinning up the short steep ups while we grunted trackstands behind. Eventually we got passed half and were in the mix with the steadier traveling front of the pack. We discovered they were indeed heading to the South end. I sure hope they realized it was 31 miles, had enough water and food, and possibly lights. We got around and quickly settled into a brisk pace. I was feeling rejuvenated after the stop.

The ride was uneventful and enjoyable and I was finally feeling good and able to ride, despite the heat. That is, until we had about 8-10 miles to go, we both ran out of water. Miserable. On the verge of bonking and dying of thirst (only because we kept thinking about being out of water) we championed on and finally made it to the trail head, the car, and the Powerade machine. Quick clean up, some Mexican food, and a shower at home and now it's time for bed.


Caitlin, get the iChat going so we can video chat. We miss you guys!

The Bad News Bears invade Kanza

5:30AM I'm sitting on the edge of the bed eating my breakfast of yogurt and powdered donuts watching the local news the Rev left on TV. There's a 50 mph wind gusting rain storm attacking South Central Kansas with tennis ball sized hail being reported by the reporter just as the images fades to static and the station is lost. Hmmm... that can't be a good omen for todays adventure.

15 minutes later I'm lined up with the boys at the start lot awaiting the riders meeting. They announce the storm is due to hit soon and our route is heading straight into it. They are tossing around the idea of postponing the start 2 hours. Damn. Thoughts suddenly turn to a nice warm breakfast, some leisure time to chill, the body starts to adapt and the tummy starts saying "yeah, breakfast sounds good" just as they tell us that we are starting. The first of many mind games.


We're rolling out on the neutral start with gRant, 8-ball Fixie Mike, and myself sitting in the top 10. oh yeah. We make our way to the front and get a few photos snapped as we "lead". Typical jocular smack talk and silliness going on to pass the time. It was, unfortunately, quickly evident that this crowd wanted nothing to do with that. They were racers and here to race and small talk and fun be damned. They're loss. We hit the gravel road and the pace kicked up. We were all able to stick with the lead pack, spinning our singlespeeds in the low 20's comfortably. The bum bum bum dramatic reverb... the first appearance of water. The train slammed to a stop, riders shouted "single file, single file, slowing!!" What the? I roll to the right and see a puddle. What the? I roll right and right through the puddle with no ill affects, it wasn't even rim deep. Riders behind see that nothing scary is lurking in the murky deeps of the leviathon puddle and we motor on. Chuckling at the silly roadies. Little did they realize the worst water crossings were to come in section 3.


We were gapped by the lead group, but Mike and I easily bridged us back up and enjoyed the draft until the brakes locked on again. Then they motored on, then another hard braking up a little rise, come on people. There were too many to pass, so I let them have some space. The inch worming was draining me. We settled into a second pack not but a few seconds behind the lead pack, having a long hot day in the saddle ahead of us, we weren't to concerned with burning all our matches in the first 15 miles.


Mile 18 is where the fun started. Mike the leader of the gay-wack-rack trend, had purchased one of those 2 bottle tri seat post bottle holders. Scott and gRant followed suit, gRant apparently too good for retail chose to pay 15% more for his. Thanks Walt! Anyway, the downs got choppy and large rocky, their bottles were bouncing out (as I had predicted over Super China Buffet dinner the night before). Waiting on either Scott or Mike to catch back up, we stopped to pee and lost our group. Once back together, we rolled out in our own 4 man team. We were rolling double pace line style, basically just riding in the smoother tire tracks and came up on a mud puddle and some ruts. Mike told me to move right, and I did, only to learn that muddy tire ruts in Kansas are baked harder than granite and it grabbed my front wheel and bitched slapped me around. I nearly took myself and the guys behind me out. I managed to stay upright and ride it out. Whew that was close. A few seconds later I look down and see my wheel wobbling side to side. Damn. Bent the rim. A first for me.


We stopped and I tried to straighten it. It wasn't rubbing and I wasn't going to get it trued without a lot of banging and slamming and I wasn't about to weaken it more. I still had 182 miles to go. I checked the tension on the spokes and snugged up some loose ones and we rolled on, my roll being a bit wobbly, but not affecting handling much or speed at all. Soon we were rolling again with intermittent slow downs waiting on Scott or gRant to pick up an ejected bottle every now and again. Waiting on Scott for what seemed to be too long for a water bottle, we stopped to wait and a girl road past us and Mike made a comment about her needing to lower her seat as she appeared to be rocking a lot. gRant and I commented that she was just really hauling and working hard and it looked fine. Scott then came rolling up telling us that his lock ring had come loose and he had to fix it. While he was stopped to fix it a girl (the one we just saw) road passed and asked if he was ok and he replied "my cock ring fell off", excersion and frustration have a funny affect on how ones mind functions. We laughed our asses off (no wonder she was hauling ass away) and proceeded along our merry way. Finishing being the goal, not land speed records or places.


Two miles up and we see a cow standing in the road and some riders fleeing away. The cow comes charging towards us, wait it's not a cow, it has polls and it's still charging. I hopped off my bike and put it between me and it while it sized me, Mike, gRant, Scott, and another dude up. I was alone off to the right, the others to the left. It snorted and charged right at me lowering it's head and ramming into me. I deflected it with my bike but the bastard hit my fork, bent front wheel, and handlebar before stopping and heading down towards the next hapless victim to be. I yelled to the others "run" and we made haste away from the welcoming committee. What are the odds of my wheel getting tweaked twice within 4 miles?! It would have been cool had fate put the bull there to straighten the wheel, but no such luck and another first for me.


Mike got a front flat a ways later and we stopped so he could fix it. It was 8AM and I was pondering my options. I didn't want to quit but I've never bent a wheel before. Would it hold? Would I end up walking 50 miles to some town somewhere? We didn't have support to come get us. Would my wheel hold? While Mike fixed the flat I pulled out the cell and called Ivory, whom I'm sure loved an 8 am phone call. Since he built the wheel and knows more than I ever will about bike maintenance, I asked him if my wheel would be fine. He said yep and I had the confidence to press on. Though some of the really rough stuff had me worried about tacoing the wheel further, but it held up and gave us ample opportunity to use another Star Wars quote "Don't worry, she'll hold together (come on baby, hold together)".

We made the first checkpoint with an hour to spare after losing an hour after a miscue. Let me just say the maps were worthless unless you were trying to confirm you were lost and the course was marked, but not marked consistently and for first timers, the two combined were confusing. Anyway, we made each checkpoint with an hour to spare and actually had an hour and 15 to spare at the second one. Pacing was good. Hydration was perfect. Attitudes were up and I've never laughed so hard consistently in an event ever. We had our difficulties, hills and valleys, but the group was strong and enjoying it all. The excitement was mostly contained in the first 20 miles, but there are more to tell. But this is starting to ramble.


Mike and I ate some more of the immutable dirt rut stalagmites, causing Scott to rupture with laughter at lights pointing skyward 10 miles from home. Then he flatted 6 blocks or so from the finish. 7 riders came from out of nowhere to pass us for the finish, but it wasn't about placing or time. It was about a group of friends trying something for the first time and conquering the beast together with lots of laughs and memories of good times. Congrats to T.roy for getting to the hundie mark and riding himself home. Congrats to gRant for getting to the hund-fifty mark and giving it all you had. Both of them have had little time to train and stepped up to the plate. Scott, thanks for hanging in there and not letting doubt take you out. You hung strong and finished like a champ. Mike, did you ever get tired? Nice job I knew you'd crush it.



Stay tuned. Maybe I'll write more this week about the hilarity of the trip home. See sneak peak below.


Thanks again fellas for a fantastic weekend. I was in dire need of a fun trip like that. Next up CTR?

Thanks to Mike for some of the photos above. gRant has some more as well as a video of the wobble wheel. Too bad both were cowering while I single handedly battled the mighty fierce cloven beast so no video of that, but Mike did capture the early charging above.

Memorial Day Weekend '08

What a drastic difference a year can make. Last year we had an impromptu river party on the rock island. 8 friends, 9 dogs, 2 kayaks, couple cases of beer, burgers, chips, dip, a firsbee, bon fire, and lots of laughter and fun. 2 of our canine friends are no longer with us, 2 friends have moved to other states, the kayaks are back in their original owners hands, and the rock island will soon be lost.

That's not to say the weekend was a bust. Saturday I got a great gravel grinder in with friends. Just shy of 70 miles. Beautiful weather, though the first hot humid day we've had with full sun exposure. It was a perfect pre-DK ramp up. Sunday started off really early with a surprise birthday breakfast for Sexpot Jeanie. Fixie 8-ball said we breached the front door security with the deftness of a S.W.A.T. team. The dogs didn't even bark. Then off to Clarksville for H.'s family tradition. Uncle Chris has added to my dreams, last year was the 1 room cabin in the woods, this year it's a metal building on a concrete slab. An exhaust fan and a loft is all I'd need to turn it into a dream home. The pups had a ball and we only had about 30 ticks total after our hiking excursion. Back to Nashville for a "surprise" birthday dinner for Jeanie, then off to the Mannonranch and the Mannondale's Memorial Eve party. Monday was a nice late breakfast at J.Christophers then a fun late lunch with my barn family. Weekends like these makes you really appreciate the friends and family in your life.

This weekend is Dirty Kanza. 203 gravely miles of unknown. 4 of us are heading out Thursday, Friday we get T.roy in K.C. and rendezvous with the Rev, Saturday we see if we have what it takes to finish. No support plans, full on GDR self support style and similar to our initial Trans Iowa running. That adds to the adventure, the worry, the anxiety. It's going to be a good time. Hard, hot, cold, wet, hilly, windy, hell most likely, but fun. Nothing beats conquering the unknown with your friends.

Yes Caitlin, the packing has started (and repacking the packing, I must have repacked my Epic Designs Frame bag 30 times already).

ps. If you haven't gotten too, check out the latest Dirt Rag, Epic Eric has a write up about riding across salt flats in Bolivia. When I'm sweaty, out of water, and dying of thirst for a few miles this weekend, I'm going to think of Eric and smile, knowing at least I'm not out there on a salt flat baking :-)

Ch-ch-ch-Changes, Just gonna have to be a different man

I've been quiet. Sorry, lots going on and a lot more to be coming on. Grass pollen has been through the roof in TN and my allergies had me feeling like pneumonia plagued fodder all week, until I broke down yesterday and took a Benadryl, suddenly I could breath, no coughing, sleep, ah... almost back to normal. It started to send me into a foul mood, with one remaining weekend to squeak in some mileage before DK next weekend, I was getting a little panicky. Some (H., Fixie 8-ball, and Sharpie) might say I was in a mood last night, but all 'mood' was resolved with some Yazoo Sly Rye Porter and a bit of interlocking fingers with the Sexpot at Pizza Perfect.

I seem to have a theme going on through life between even and odd years. Even years bring on a lot of changes, odd years seem to bring on struggles. The Ocho is proving to be no different. Some big changes in life are about to take place, the decisions are weighing heavily on my brow this morning, but luckily each scenario has a light at the end of it for all involved. Like a phoenix bursting to flames in it's cinamon twig nest, reduced to ashes from which a new, young phoenix arises. I just have to ask myself: "What would Mike Piazza do?"

It's supposed to be a gorgeous weekend out there this Holiday weekend, get out and enjoy it. Spend time with your loved ones and be grateful for the time you have. And by "get out and enjoy it" I'm talking to you gRant, Fixie 8-ball, Jeff, Meanjoe, and Monster McConnell - 9:30 at the school, ready to grind some gravel.

Tour de Chamois Time

9:10PM. That's when I walked into the door. 15 hours and 40 minutes since I first put foot to pedal in the cool misty early morning. A fantastic day filled with cycling, beer drinking, hanging out with friends, and lots of urban exploration and laughs.

4:30 AM came awful early and the cool morning air blowing in through the screen door made it even harder to leave the snuggly warm bed. A quick hot shower, bowl of yogurt and granola, glass of oj, and really bad cup of coffee later, I was hoofing it to meet up with Monster McConnell at 5:30 AM down in Grassland. I shed my wings under jersey waiting for Scott, since the long sleeve EWR wool was plenty warm for the 45 degree morning. Once Scott showed up we motored up Hillsboro Road to pick up Old Greg. Decked out in black short sleeve wool, hot black knickers, and flaming red arm warmers and a big ring, Scott and I double timed it trying to keep Old Greg's wheel on our backassward 4 miles stuffed into 2, windy ass way over to T.roy's to complete our foursome.


Good coffee, some freewheel frustrations, and more coffee we were soon on our way to LP Field for the Tour de Nash. We were all leading routes and planning for a long day on the bike. The sun quickly warmed things up to a perfect 70 degrees, clear and sunny; perfect weather for such an event. We checked in, found our queue sheets, scouted out the departure route, and milled about until it was time to line up. Several noted speakers including the Mayor and Ex-Titan, Eddie George; who was the only one to mention to all 1800+ people to notice where the bike lanes and routes were, so they could use this event to learn how to get into and out of the city in this day of high gas prices by bike. He connected the need for not only exercise, but also the need to try alternative transportation. The goal being to create a healthier Tennessee, but also to help alleviate the ever growing gas bill strain. No other speaker connected the dots in such an elloquent and immediately captivating mannor. Eddie's short speech was a simple light switch flipping on for many in attendance, no hooplah, no politics, just simple commonsense and clear vision. No wonder he was a first round draft pick, he didn't drop the ball.

After a thousand or so 50 and 27 milers rolled out (each led by a Yazoo rider, John Eighmey and Old Greg), T.roy and I led out the 12 mile route with 6 mile route leader Andy & child trailer. Somewhere along Eastland Ave T.roy got an excited "ooh" look in his face and he told me he'd catch up and turned into a house having a yard sale. I thought it must be an emergency for him to stop and ask stangers to use the toilet, but it turns out he somehow noticed 3 carboys for sale as we rode past the house, which was up on a hill and behind some shrubs. It's like he has beer-dar. When we went back to pick them up after the ride, he even scored $5 pannier bags. Lucky rat.

The ride was a phenomenal success. So many people out having a good time and enjoying the city. It's unique to have such a large organized bike tour in an urban environment, most take to the country roads, but this one highlighted all the bike lanes, bikeways, and greenways in the city. I spoke to many interesting folks and gave a lot more encouragement as they struggled up hills. I had one mom come by thanking me for cheering her daughter up and encouraging her as we rode together up one of the steeper hills. Lots of smiles and friendly conversation. Only one asshole on the cell phone riding too fast and on the left hand side of a twisty and crowded greenway, he ran a fellow cycling towards him off the road with his carelessness. Other than him and the "must haul ass and ride in aero bar" pace line folks (I don't get that, it's a fuggin greenway you dorks) it was an uneventful ride for such a massive mob of people. T.roy and I had an older gentleman, new to riding, stay right with us the entire time. He didn't want to get lost and he did a great job of keeping up.


After the 4 of us regrouped post routes, we headed over to the Swiftwick/Yazoo Aid Station Tent to hang with Sharpie and his brood. Sharp and I had made a ton of PB&J (Sharp puts the PB in PB&J) sandwiches Friday night, after being up since 4:30 and riding all morning, and it approaching noon, I was starved and ready for a PB&J. We found Sharp inundated with riders, no PB&J's left, and him hoofing it off to refill the water jugs. There was just a ton of riders out. I managed to snag a banana and a couple oatmeal raisin cookies, choosing to leave the rest for the riders still showing up. Highlight was hanging with my girl, Viv. We left Sharp and rolled back to town to get some grub, we took the new to us greenway and then I snuck in some La Ruta training.


After running T.roy's errands and enjoying one of his homebrew ESB's, we headed up to meet Hennessey at the Tap Room. Jonny Crow was there with an ensembled cast of characters. We grabbed our beers (started with the Sly Rye Porter) and hung out in the breezy shade of the courtyard. A perfect way to spend the afternoon. T.roy got us into the 4:30 brewery tour and we got to sample several brews while gaining knowledge (some of us intimate knowledge) of the brewing process and the history of Yazoo. Two business cards later, we headed off to Broadway Brewhouse for what we thought was some Yazoo ESB (nope) and food. Mojo wings and Sante Fe Stacks with T.roy and I eating "too hard" and snapping our forks. (Bet you've never heard that one before, huh Food Sweats?)


Hennessey split off for home afterwards. T.roy, Old Greg and I rolled towards Hillsboro Village. Dropped T.roy off, and Old Greg once again led me on a windy, twisty, where the f*ck are we going, 4 miles to go 2, tour of the village. Finally back on Hillsboro Road and I made the solo roll back in the dark. Traffic wasn't too bad and the near full moon lit the way, keeping the scenary notable and bright. Once home, a quick spin of the farm with the spastic, kept inside too long wupples.

Perfect day with good friends and good brew. 15.5 fun filled hours of chamois time.

*note: Photographs courtesy of staff photographer Old Greg.