I made it to pdxcross. Well, the silouhette of me being chased by a viking did, anyway.
I couldn't shake this guy to save my life, but I have a feeling that the gentle hand on my back pushing me up the fast road section on lap 4 belonged to no other.
Of course I dropped a chain near the finish and Viking boy and at least 15 others got by me before I was rolling again.
Always an excuse.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Third Lap Pain-Face in Full Effect.
Three-piece polyester suits, though stylish and comfortable, do not breathe well.
Same could be said for me, I guess.
Good times out at Astoria yesterday, what with all the crisp air and blowing leaves and ruddy flesh and beer, delicious beer.
I will race and finish mid-pack and be happy because I cannot leave that fucking IPA alone.
On another note, THIS is for Mr. Chris who I know has an irrational fear of sticks.
It never seems to end around here. PDX (the airport) is talking about putting in bicycle assembly/dis-assembly areas for two-wheeled travelers.
Caught this via Bike Portland.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
An Open Letter to the New President
Michael Pollan on our food and how it relates to our own National security.
This is Very Important Stuff, and Pollan has a handle on it like no-one else in this country.
Grab a local beer and spend some time with this.
This is Very Important Stuff, and Pollan has a handle on it like no-one else in this country.
Grab a local beer and spend some time with this.
Dedication.
I got off work around ten-thirty on Saturday night and decided to sit down for a bite and a few glasses of my latest love.
Come around one-thirty and it occurred to me that there was some sort of cyclocross race that I was supposed to be at in like, 9 hours.
Drunk as shit? Check.
Half-hour bike ride home? Check.
Stumble around and forget to set the alarm? Check, and check.
Wifey sticks her head in the bedroom door at 9 am and says two things:
"God, it stinks in here," and "You're gonna miss your race."
I did brush the dogshit out of my mouth, but didn't get a cup of coffee. Just suited up, threw the bike in the car, and left. Wasn't so bad, the drive. Herself had made me up a peanut butter and banana sammy and the heated seats are a godsend.
Hour's drive. Didn't get lost for once. Just follow the subaru with the bikes on top. A snap, really.
I missed my fuckin start. Ran into Huf, who laughed at me, but did get a couple of cups of coffee in me courtesy of CK. Stood around freezing my balls for a bit and loaded my clean bike back into the car.
I figure any successful day racing is one in which I don't have a ragged piece of my own collarbone stabbing me in the cheek, but I could have done without this whole fucking mess, really.
Next time I'm staying in bed.
Though, Astoria is next Sunday. Can I get a WOOT?
Come around one-thirty and it occurred to me that there was some sort of cyclocross race that I was supposed to be at in like, 9 hours.
Drunk as shit? Check.
Half-hour bike ride home? Check.
Stumble around and forget to set the alarm? Check, and check.
Wifey sticks her head in the bedroom door at 9 am and says two things:
"God, it stinks in here," and "You're gonna miss your race."
I did brush the dogshit out of my mouth, but didn't get a cup of coffee. Just suited up, threw the bike in the car, and left. Wasn't so bad, the drive. Herself had made me up a peanut butter and banana sammy and the heated seats are a godsend.
Hour's drive. Didn't get lost for once. Just follow the subaru with the bikes on top. A snap, really.
I missed my fuckin start. Ran into Huf, who laughed at me, but did get a couple of cups of coffee in me courtesy of CK. Stood around freezing my balls for a bit and loaded my clean bike back into the car.
I figure any successful day racing is one in which I don't have a ragged piece of my own collarbone stabbing me in the cheek, but I could have done without this whole fucking mess, really.
Next time I'm staying in bed.
Though, Astoria is next Sunday. Can I get a WOOT?
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Adios
From DC.
We’ve decided we’re leaving. We intend to form our own country, and we’re taking the other Blue States with us. In case you aren’t aware, that includes California, Hawaii, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and all the Northeast. We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation, and especially to the people of the new country of New California.
To sum up briefly: You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states. We get stem cell research and the best beaches. We get the Statue of Liberty. You get Dollywood. We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom. We get Harvard. You get Ole’ Miss. We get 85 percent of America’s venture capital and entrepreneurs. You get Alabama. We get two-thirds of the tax revenue, you get to make the red states pay their fair share.
Since our aggregate divorce rate is 22 percent lower than the Christian Coalition’s, we get a bunch of happy families. You get a bunch of single moms. Please be aware that Nuevo California will be pro-choice and anti-war, and we’re going to want all our citizens back from Iraq at once. If you need people to fight, ask your evangelicals. They have kids they’re apparently willing to send to their deaths for no purpose, and they don’t care if you don’t show pictures of their children’s caskets coming home. We do wish you success in Iraq, and hope that the WMD’s turn up, but we’re not willing to spend our resources in Bush’s Quagmire.
With the Blue States in hand, we will have firm control of 80 percent of the country’s fresh water, more than 90 percent of the pineapple and lettuce, 92 percent of the nation’s fresh fruit, 95 percent of America’s quality wines, 90 percent of all cheese, 90 percent of the high tech industry, most of the U.S. low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools plus Stanford, Cal Tech and MIT. With the Red States, on the other hand, you will have to cope with 88 percent of all obese Americans (and their projected health care costs), 92 percent of all U.S. mosquitoes, nearly 100 percent of the tornadoes, 90 percent of the hurricanes, 99 percent of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100 percent of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia. We get Hollywood and Yosemite, thank you.
Additionally, 38 percent of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62 percent believe life is sacred unless we’re discussing the war, the death penalty or gun laws, 44 percent say that evolution is only a theory, 53 percent that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61 percent of you crazy bastards believe you are people with higher morals then we lefties.
Finally, we’re taking the good pot, too. You can have that dirt weed they grow in Mexico.
Peace out,
Blue States
We’ve decided we’re leaving. We intend to form our own country, and we’re taking the other Blue States with us. In case you aren’t aware, that includes California, Hawaii, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and all the Northeast. We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation, and especially to the people of the new country of New California.
To sum up briefly: You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states. We get stem cell research and the best beaches. We get the Statue of Liberty. You get Dollywood. We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom. We get Harvard. You get Ole’ Miss. We get 85 percent of America’s venture capital and entrepreneurs. You get Alabama. We get two-thirds of the tax revenue, you get to make the red states pay their fair share.
Since our aggregate divorce rate is 22 percent lower than the Christian Coalition’s, we get a bunch of happy families. You get a bunch of single moms. Please be aware that Nuevo California will be pro-choice and anti-war, and we’re going to want all our citizens back from Iraq at once. If you need people to fight, ask your evangelicals. They have kids they’re apparently willing to send to their deaths for no purpose, and they don’t care if you don’t show pictures of their children’s caskets coming home. We do wish you success in Iraq, and hope that the WMD’s turn up, but we’re not willing to spend our resources in Bush’s Quagmire.
With the Blue States in hand, we will have firm control of 80 percent of the country’s fresh water, more than 90 percent of the pineapple and lettuce, 92 percent of the nation’s fresh fruit, 95 percent of America’s quality wines, 90 percent of all cheese, 90 percent of the high tech industry, most of the U.S. low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools plus Stanford, Cal Tech and MIT. With the Red States, on the other hand, you will have to cope with 88 percent of all obese Americans (and their projected health care costs), 92 percent of all U.S. mosquitoes, nearly 100 percent of the tornadoes, 90 percent of the hurricanes, 99 percent of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100 percent of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia. We get Hollywood and Yosemite, thank you.
Additionally, 38 percent of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62 percent believe life is sacred unless we’re discussing the war, the death penalty or gun laws, 44 percent say that evolution is only a theory, 53 percent that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61 percent of you crazy bastards believe you are people with higher morals then we lefties.
Finally, we’re taking the good pot, too. You can have that dirt weed they grow in Mexico.
Peace out,
Blue States
Monday, October 13, 2008
Villebois
The Villebois course creeped me the fuck out. Straight Cormac McCarthy shit out there. Gravel and rebar and craters and ruts. Pieces of concrete and tile and a few sad looking trees and some lumpy grass.
Weird, sort of hostile spectators and no beer.
No wonder, considering what the place used to be, and what it will be soon.
It matters not. I got a puncture halfway thru the last lap, but was well on my way to a solid mid-pack finish if I was right in counting the number of wobbly fat guys I'd been able to get by in the first few times around.
This is my favorite picture of me racing because you can't see my gut or the snot caked to my face.
I will, I will, I will finish next Sunday.
Here's my buddy Ben having a little taste.
Weird, sort of hostile spectators and no beer.
No wonder, considering what the place used to be, and what it will be soon.
It matters not. I got a puncture halfway thru the last lap, but was well on my way to a solid mid-pack finish if I was right in counting the number of wobbly fat guys I'd been able to get by in the first few times around.
This is my favorite picture of me racing because you can't see my gut or the snot caked to my face.
I will, I will, I will finish next Sunday.
Here's my buddy Ben having a little taste.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Manifest.
I buy it. I buy all of it. All of the enthusiasm and the comraderie and the joyful work ethic and the pride of effort. The builders and the brewers and the rest of us just going thru every day knowing that we inhabit a beautiful and secret place.
Today:
The free box at City Bikes where I found a 1960's Campy front derraileur and I went downtown for coffee and took it out of my pocket and was playing with it and crusty messenger Dumpster Dave was like "I have that same one on an old bike, but the cage is broken" and I gave it to him and his face lit up like a fuckin little kid.
The guy with huge mutton chops doing a block-long wheelie on a titanium mountain bike and as we passed I yelled out "Yeah, boy!" and he yelled back, "Awww, yeah!"
This autumn light.
Hufnagel's new cross bike gives me shivers.
I can't believe I'm here.
----------------------------------------------------------
So, some whatever photos from today.
"No, how you doin?"
Today:
The free box at City Bikes where I found a 1960's Campy front derraileur and I went downtown for coffee and took it out of my pocket and was playing with it and crusty messenger Dumpster Dave was like "I have that same one on an old bike, but the cage is broken" and I gave it to him and his face lit up like a fuckin little kid.
The guy with huge mutton chops doing a block-long wheelie on a titanium mountain bike and as we passed I yelled out "Yeah, boy!" and he yelled back, "Awww, yeah!"
This autumn light.
Hufnagel's new cross bike gives me shivers.
I can't believe I'm here.
----------------------------------------------------------
So, some whatever photos from today.
"No, how you doin?"
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Training Log Vol. 4
Decent wet-weather torment today. Probably only 35 miles, but I'm feeling it.
St.John's bridge.
Freezing my ass off at Sauvie Island.
6" long stainless steel cotter pins holding the new Sauvie bridge together. Cool shit.
Shitty flat tire on Hwy 30 in the rain. Ugh.
Rogue Double Dead Guy and a bowl of corn chowder at the Beer Store.
Following this I took half a Valium and a hot bath and am now leaving for yet another lucrative night of being the Best Bartender in the World.
In your face, humanity!
St.John's bridge.
Freezing my ass off at Sauvie Island.
6" long stainless steel cotter pins holding the new Sauvie bridge together. Cool shit.
Shitty flat tire on Hwy 30 in the rain. Ugh.
Rogue Double Dead Guy and a bowl of corn chowder at the Beer Store.
Following this I took half a Valium and a hot bath and am now leaving for yet another lucrative night of being the Best Bartender in the World.
In your face, humanity!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
pdxcross, again.
I just have to say again that these guys are turning out some of the best cycling-related photography I've ever seen.
Just sitting here paging slowly thru the photos while drinking a coffee and planning my spectacular comeback on Sunday, makes me so god-damned happy to be here, living this life.
Manifest this weekend, more great races to come, fine fall weather, and the fresh hopped goodness is flowing all over town.
Life is good.
Just sitting here paging slowly thru the photos while drinking a coffee and planning my spectacular comeback on Sunday, makes me so god-damned happy to be here, living this life.
Manifest this weekend, more great races to come, fine fall weather, and the fresh hopped goodness is flowing all over town.
Life is good.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Cross Crusade-- Alpenrose
Random shots from today.
I'm still too busted up to have raced, but am feeling like a highly motivated killing machine, and plan to have my say next Sunday in Wilsonville.
I'm still too busted up to have raced, but am feeling like a highly motivated killing machine, and plan to have my say next Sunday in Wilsonville.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Training Log Vol. 2
I rolled a tubular at 20 mph.
I'm real fucking sore. Bruised both my heels good.
Not to mention the concussion and ruination of my beloved yellow Catlike.
Farewell, old friend.
Though, this is on its way from Prendas. Cheaper than an ambulance ride, but not by much.
I'm real fucking sore. Bruised both my heels good.
Not to mention the concussion and ruination of my beloved yellow Catlike.
Farewell, old friend.
Though, this is on its way from Prendas. Cheaper than an ambulance ride, but not by much.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Many visitors and smiles planned for the next few weeks.
The Oakland G's will be on hand for some eating/drinking/chilling action.
I'm thinking Ceveche for friday night (photo recipe to come) and a suitcase of little red pills. I gotta pick up my jeans from my tailor Jae who is right near the seafood counter of my dreams, so I'll grab few fishy things.
Then maybe some pokpok?
The Khao Soi Kai might be my favorite dish at any restaurant, ever.
Then the 43's will be winging in from Les Bois, bikes in tow, and kids at Sis's house.
You bastards.
Mr. Chris will be happy to know that I've been involved in some deeply satisfying R&D into weird asian things we can eat, and have inadvertently stumbled upon what may be the Best Sardines of All Time.
Which is great, because Mang Tomas All Purpose Sauce is fucking vile stuff.
Thank god for Uwajimaya, in
all its glory.
The School's visit is supposed to have something to do with their old-asses reaching an anniversary of some sort, but it just coincidentally co insides with the
Oregon Manifest weekend of handmade bikes, booze and some sweet cross action.
My advice to Mr. Chris is to do nothing to prepare. Should I drop a mid-pack, master C victory upon his ruined, old self, I shall be pleased.
Looking forward to seeing you all, good friends.
The Oakland G's will be on hand for some eating/drinking/chilling action.
I'm thinking Ceveche for friday night (photo recipe to come) and a suitcase of little red pills. I gotta pick up my jeans from my tailor Jae who is right near the seafood counter of my dreams, so I'll grab few fishy things.
Then maybe some pokpok?
The Khao Soi Kai might be my favorite dish at any restaurant, ever.
Then the 43's will be winging in from Les Bois, bikes in tow, and kids at Sis's house.
You bastards.
Mr. Chris will be happy to know that I've been involved in some deeply satisfying R&D into weird asian things we can eat, and have inadvertently stumbled upon what may be the Best Sardines of All Time.
Which is great, because Mang Tomas All Purpose Sauce is fucking vile stuff.
Thank god for Uwajimaya, in
all its glory.
The School's visit is supposed to have something to do with their old-asses reaching an anniversary of some sort, but it just coincidentally co insides with the
Oregon Manifest weekend of handmade bikes, booze and some sweet cross action.
My advice to Mr. Chris is to do nothing to prepare. Should I drop a mid-pack, master C victory upon his ruined, old self, I shall be pleased.
Looking forward to seeing you all, good friends.
Friday, September 26, 2008
vanaru
First thing tomorrow I'm gonna go trade in the saturn on one of these nifty 4-wheel-drive vans with a 3.3L subaru SVX motor in it. Looks like fun, no?
More.
More.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Molly Cameron just killing it.
If anyone knows who took this photo, could you please let me know so I can credit them?
If anyone knows who took this photo, could you please let me know so I can credit them?
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
That Palin woman is as poisonous a bitch as was ever hatched.
My professional advice would be to get your fucking passports in order, pronto.
You think the last 8 years have been bad, we're in for the mother of all clusterfucks when she's the new Cheney.
At least when they close the borders and lock up all the queers and Mexicans, the rest of us will have good paying jobs out on oil rigs somewhere.
Mommy?
My professional advice would be to get your fucking passports in order, pronto.
You think the last 8 years have been bad, we're in for the mother of all clusterfucks when she's the new Cheney.
At least when they close the borders and lock up all the queers and Mexicans, the rest of us will have good paying jobs out on oil rigs somewhere.
Mommy?
Monday, September 15, 2008
hot stuff
First, you gotta grow yourself a freaky looking two-pound tomato in a container on the front porch. Very important step.
Next, round up some onion, cilantro, salt, and lime. Garlic and peppers, too.
Pan roast those nucks until your eyes are sweating and the house smells like the third world.
Then, mucho chopping. What else are you gonna do while The Lads scream at the dog and throw Indian food on the floor?
It was all worth it, bitches.
Next, round up some onion, cilantro, salt, and lime. Garlic and peppers, too.
Pan roast those nucks until your eyes are sweating and the house smells like the third world.
Then, mucho chopping. What else are you gonna do while The Lads scream at the dog and throw Indian food on the floor?
It was all worth it, bitches.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
kismet
This morning I asked The Cuban if he'd ever seen the footage of Townes playing Poncho and Lefty in the trailer. He just smiled and pointed to a little tiny painting hanging above the cash register. I never really noticed it before, but now I'm real happy it's there.
The Cuban, he notices things.
The Cuban, he notices things.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Beer.
I drank beer last night.
Big fuckin whoop, you might say.
Some of you may never have seen me without a little red pill grasped in my mitt, and would find it odd to picture your old pal the pleasurefucker any other way.
But, since I've decided recently that life is nothing without some sort of painful sacrifice to really make you feel vibrant, I decided to quit drinking.
For a month.
Big fuckin whoop, you might say, again. And you'd be right. Most folks don't mind a dry spell here and there, just to get things on track, but me, I've been beer-drunk since my sophomore year of high-school, and have rarely taken any kind of break. In fact, last time I didn't drink for a month I had pneumonia and nearly died freezing my ass off in a drafty flat on Turk St.
I was 22.
Fourteen years ago.
So, I thought I'd give it a go. Give myself 35 days of good food and clear water to get in shape for the Cross Crusade opener in October.
12 days was pretty good. Guess I'll have to ease into this deal, huh?
Big fuckin whoop, you might say.
Some of you may never have seen me without a little red pill grasped in my mitt, and would find it odd to picture your old pal the pleasurefucker any other way.
But, since I've decided recently that life is nothing without some sort of painful sacrifice to really make you feel vibrant, I decided to quit drinking.
For a month.
Big fuckin whoop, you might say, again. And you'd be right. Most folks don't mind a dry spell here and there, just to get things on track, but me, I've been beer-drunk since my sophomore year of high-school, and have rarely taken any kind of break. In fact, last time I didn't drink for a month I had pneumonia and nearly died freezing my ass off in a drafty flat on Turk St.
I was 22.
Fourteen years ago.
So, I thought I'd give it a go. Give myself 35 days of good food and clear water to get in shape for the Cross Crusade opener in October.
12 days was pretty good. Guess I'll have to ease into this deal, huh?
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