Monday, November 30, 2009

Cal is Awesome.

He just is.


Monday, November 23, 2009


I just realized that my last five posts have all been videos swiped off the internet. Damn boring.

What's new?

I haven't taken any pictures lately. There's something wrong with my little Lumix and everything looks like shit. Besides, Hamachi and Patches are working their Panas out, so I don't have to.

I suck at racing bicycles, so I bitched out of the race on sunday. Kruger's farm. Always pretty and perfect. Tractor ruts and the last geese overhead. The first place I raced after I came to Portland, and my favorite.

We went up with the Lads, drank some beer, did a little bonfire action. In talking, realized that it was their third season attending cx at the farm, and they won't be three years old until January.

Raising them up right!

Which gets me to considering that my sons already don't think of the the Bicycle as a novelty, or as a toy. They are, at this early stage, already fully attuned to its use as an everyday tool of much utility, and also one of great joy.

It's what gets us to the store. And to the park. And to the Bye and Bye for edamame and brussels sprouts and The Doo-Shay of a Sunday afternoon.

It's my hope that when they're older, they'll ride more than they drive, take pleasure in the maintenance of the machine, and most importantly, not have to think about it nearly as much as I do.
What did you guys do this weekend?

Sunday, November 22, 2009


I do this every day on my way downtown.

But I have an ipod.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Post Ride Convo

I totally know this guy.

Monday, November 16, 2009


This is only funny to me. The little fuckers have been showing up at the races-- Pushing their bikes around like it's Valencia St. and dropping cigarette butts everywhere.

Thank god I'm too fat and hung over to race anymore. Ninkasi just dropped the '09 Oatis Stout and I'm fixing to put on the chill-chasing 15 lbs. Fuck Gore-tex and fleece. I need my waxed cotton jacket, a layer of seal blubber, some black, black beer and a bike with fenders. Call me good to go.

See you come spring.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

It's All Over Now, Baby Blue

One of my favorite songs, and the Van Morrison/Them version is the best one-- But I found this and thought I'd post it. Brilliant.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Colors and the Kids

Another in our ongoing series of feel good/feel bad songs.

"Yellow, hair. You are a funny bear."

Monday, November 9, 2009


66th out of 213. I "beat" Trebon and Wicks. Too bad I'm so slow, because I got out of the field in the first group of 20 or so and lost a good forty spots.

The course was really, really tough.

BG hit 33rd. Good going, crusher.

A Little Taste of Mayhem


lee marvin chino Pictures, Images and Photos




Um, don't ask.


Photo by MaxIsNow.

Thursday, November 5, 2009


This is going to suck. Or be the Best Race Evar. Time will tell.

Again, you're all invited to stay at my house for this. I'll cook up a big pot of vegan chili and buy a bottle of whatever, and we'll be good to go. Because, I know people, and people, they know me. Dig?


Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Heckle Pit

Someone's camera phone movie of sunday's Heckle Pit. Note the human barriers (which moved all over the course), and the stack of caskets (which were re-arranged every lap).

Every lap. Laply?

That's already a word, right?

Monday, November 2, 2009


You might be thinking that it's all smoke. Or some kind of hysteria.

That it's being packaged and presented to you in a way that somehow amplifies its glory.

None of this is fake.

It's all dirt, blood, booze and blind dedication to an unknown cause.



Cross Crusade. Astoria, OR, 2009

I wore the suit again. The terrible suit. It binds and is hot. I drank beer before coffee. I drank beer before food.

I had food. I stopped at the Safeway in Clatskanie and bought two bananas, a Clif bar, some string cheese, and a bottle of Pellegrino. $4.89.

Out on the highway, some fifteen miles further into the fog of the coast range, there was a guy pushing one of those bicycles with the ratty trailer. A lot of hefty bags and tarps and a brown dog wearing a person's wool sweater.

I saw his down coat with the feathers sticking out and the tape on it, and his wet hair hanging down, and I pulled the car over and backed down the hill. The dog barked at me and I gave the guy the plastic bag of food. He looked like he needed it. He didn't say anything, but it was 48 degrees and going right thru to the bone. I hope he ate it and got some sustenance from it.


The Team had been camped at the fairgrounds for two nights already. They looked like mud and rain and oatmeal stout. They were chopping up pumpkins with a double-bit axe and pretending to eat a little, here and there.

Everything was glowing when I arrived, and there was a keg. I put on the suit, knowing it was the wrong thing to do. Such has been my life.

I'll leave the details of the racing to the Hankbuilt blargh, but I can tell you that we are in trouble with everybody.