Monday, September 26, 2011
For some reason I was also under this impression that you got a set of AVID Shorty Ultimate cantilever brakes for taking the holeshot. So when I got called up (how I cannot fathom) I quickly assessed the situation. The Craig Etheridge (who crushed everyone and rode through the entire masters field) was back again, so I knew that I was going to be relegated to scrapping for whatever was left. I got a front row position so when the gun went off a really stood on it and went right to the front (remember, I think that I am going to win a brakeset for getting the hole shot), and no one contested it. I lead for about a 1/4 lap and then a couple riders came around.
Racing in mud that soft is always draining, but the grass and mud was building up around my V-brakes creating extra drag.
I did my best to chase down the masters racers and remain upright, but it was slow and slimey.
If I was not so absolutely shelled I would have cared that I was covered with filth and mud that had so thoroughly penetrated my skinsuit, soaked my chamois, and created the sensation of having soiled ones diaper.
I then waddled over to the pressure wash station to try to clean up my bike, only to have some guy come over and turn off the pressure washers, saying that they had to save the water for the UCI Pro race.
I was tempted to unzip my skinsuit , scoop out some grundle mud, and artistically express my true feelings of inadequacy on this dudes forehead. I managed to contain my artistic proclivities, and went chase down my new brakes (for winning the holeshot). The officials that I talked to, looked at me like I was high when I asked about the brakeset. Apperently, I created a imaginary preme for winning the holeshot. There was a $250 prize for the pro's but nobody else got anything, other than the chance to lead 25 weird dudes for about 2 minutes. Don't get me wrong, I have never entered a race precisely because I was going to win something, but I was so bewildered that I had conjured this imaginary, non-existant prime. Maybe it was hearing Dave Towle repeat the phrase, "the AVID Shorty Ultimate Holeshot!" for 2 days. Never doubt the underhanded, brainwashing potential of SRAM's marketing ploys.
I have some more thoughts that I will try to get down later this week. My time is at a premium , so time devoted to bloggage is slim. Jasper managed to eat part of a manilla envelope while I was making dinner. About 2 minutes later it looked like a scene from the exorcist. He threw up so much! I almost got it cleaned up before Ali walked in....almost. We both were chastised. So no more multitasking while I have Jasper duty.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
As I was rolling into St. paul I found a big guy laying face up in the middle of a the street right at the intersection of Robert and Kellog. Not moving. Traffic is light so I put my bike in the street infront of the dude and start asessing the situation. No apparent trauma, and I could see the rise and fall of his chest. I started talking to him and he opened his eyes, and said that he could not feel his hands or feet. I could not smell alcohol on him and he did not look like he had been out partying all night. I asked him if I should call 911, and he said yes. After I got off the phone with 911 it took the firefighters about 7 minutes to get to the scene (and they brought a ladder truck?) I told the medic on the fire crew what the story was and got the ok to leave the scene.
Then it was a SS TT through the Mississippi River bottoms to try to meet Butch and Wes at the appointed time. I was spun out when I rolled up, almost on top of, the most robust looking coyote I have ever seen. He looked like he had been living fat all summer. Probably eating stray cats and dogs. For a few seconds I was close enough that I could have spit on him. He did not seemed terribly concerned, but I was. I need to put the Hope hub back on that bike so it will scare away all the critters.
Then I caught up with Butch and Wes, and we started heading south towards farmington, mn. Wes was on his big dummy with all of his gear so the pace was conversational. We talked of many things
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
As it has become a theme lately all pictures were jacked from Butch's Twit-pic feed, and will continue to be until he tells me to stop and or gets a restraining order. You can also find his resurgent blog on the right under "Radness"
As I was riding along I noticed that Wes had the leg of a pair of jeans hanging out he back of his Big Dummy. The jeans turned out to be the carrying case for a incredibly cool idea.
Wes had created a snow breaker plow for a bike.
I was blown away.
I looted a field of food grade white corn. It looks like sweet corn, but is not sweet (it has a corny flavor)
Little did we know that there would be double scoop ice cream cones at the bottom of this long downhill.