2008 is Missing...
it's run of wed night rides.
Our fearless leader is down for the count with some type of alien neck invasion. I just think he has a "C" problem. He doesn't "C" himself riding his bike anymore.
He also, has been hanging out with the VS models at work and thinks that is more important than riding with us. Jetting off to far away lands and
organizing 'store fixtures' at least that is his story. I am not buying it for one moment.
Livestrong
As some of you know, a few weeks back I participated in the
Livestrong Challenge in Austin, TX. After Rob read the blog, he came up with a great idea to organize a team next year! Jerseys, all the good stuff... But we need your help! Next year's dates will be announced soon. It's a great weekend, one of the most
memorable experiences on a bike. If you're interested let Rob or I know. I'll get a team page set up as soon as they let me.
To hear about my
Livestrong Challenge, click
here
This will make you squeel like a squid...
...Said the guy who tried to help James and Rob fix my bike... long story short, I (Julie) had to put the single speed wheel back on for today's ride because my brake cables were not long enough to fit the new wheel... (After the ride, I headed over to Bike Source where I was outfitted with new disc brakes and a bottom bracket, and a bunch of other things that wear out after 2000 miles) It was a perfect day, even after the rain...
but James somehow didn't make the big log...
Now Rob, he had a better idea of how to ride the big logs... Click
hereNow me, I stick to the little logs... click
hereA little later, I talked James into the big jump... almost an endo, but a great recovery! Click
hereI on the other hand met a tree... sort of... Click
hereAfter the loop, Rob had to run home to drink beer and James and I went over to phase 1 which is in great shape. I left to go to Bike Source and then drink beer... James, he went home and his wife had a baby boy! Congrats! James, when are you going to get Bruce an Epic???
1st Ride of 2007 - Balls
“I guess we’re not in Toto any more,” said Van in a moment of Freudian revelation. And we weren’t.
I promised a ride report, and here I am two days later and after a flurry of emails providing one, completely unnecessarily.
For the record, my Ergobrain claimed we’d covered 33.01 miles at a not-entirely-pitiful-given-the-time-of-year average of 17.3 mph. My own brain claimed farther and faster, but I discount its maunderings.
The ride started as usual, except that my legs insisted there was an unexpected acceleration after we’d turned onto Ulry. For a moment I feared that I would completely conk out by the time we got a mile down the road, but it turned out that this is merely a phenomenon related to my increasing need for extended warm-ups. Which brings me to my next point:
Part of the email chatter concerned age. I think it’s extremely tactless of you to bemoan your two-score years and less, when you know you’re addressing someone poised to celebrate, if that’s the word, half a century of existence. But let it pass.
The body of ride was unremarkable, except of course that I managed to keep up; the only interesting moment came when Glenn encountered the posse of oncoming riders all wearing the same shirt as him, and stuck his arms in the air in what looked like a victory salute. On seeing this, said riders wheeled round and we at the back feared there’d be a rumble; but all was well and the menacing group was assimilated for a while, before losing patience and riding off. Van observed the swollen group and thought he was seeing double, but was relieved to find his perceptions empirically confirmed. Or, at least, confirmed by other witnesses, whose reliability is always up for question. (Incidentally, if you haven’t seen the re-worked 300 promo set to the tune “It’s Raining Men”, I heartily recommend it…like everything else in the world, it’s on YouTube.)
As we spun down Warner a sense of anticipation grew – or was that merely the aroma of sweat? In any case, we turned onto Ulry and I found myself in the odd position of using Bob as my lead-out-man, or super-domestique. I emerged from his wind shadow after Van had made his stately way past, apparently bolt upright and not even breathing hard. As usual I wallowed in the wake of Joel and Farmer and…who was that? I’m terrible with names. Anyway, another faster person; but I did manage to pass Van half way up, ducking to avoid the internal organs that were grenading out of his rapidly collapsing body.
This is only the beginning. We all ended the ride with our balls, not merely attached but in (roughly) the right place, despite Van’s threats and menaces. Mind you, as I remarked toward the end, I was running out of ass as fast as we were running out of daylight, so I was just as happy to plant my Assos in the Audi sooner rather than later.
Now I’m about to go out for a brief spin to see if my scrotum has de-abraded sufficiently to allow me to go on this top of Ohio ride on Sunday.Best to all,
See you next week.
J
DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME!
This is what happens when you live out in California, get too much sun and try to put the hair from your legs on your head.
Sorry Nic, I had to share the laughs!
Keep on Crankin on!
Ray's Indoor Mountain Bike Park
Van drives Mark up to Ray's in his Van. Mark smiles the entire time. Mark and Van spend the last 30 minutes of our indoor fun taking pictures. It made us more tired than we already were. We did pick one of the coldest days of the year to go. We still had a blast. Ray introduced himself to us, thanked us for coming.
My favorite line of the day. Was the kid that said, "hey could you guys move out of the way" - What he really was saying = "hey could you old guys get out of the way"
I must admit when Ray first started building this place, I just had no intention of ever going, saying it's not dirt, what's the point. But I did have a blast and it was quite the workout over the four hours. My favorites: pump track, cross country trail and the trail up to the giant RedBull wall. Van states management may permit another trip soon, before
Ray's closes for the season.
What a View
Mt. Evans, Colorado.
Pict sent to me from Mr. Ogle from atop his work-building in downtown, Denver. Pretty cool.
Damn Kids!
You would think someone with a high school and partial college education would know that you are not suposed to eat Polylube 1000. This is my little brother at the
shop he works at in Rocky River up by Cleveland. Glad to see that he is working hard.
Keep the pedals pedalin! (in circles)
What a Wonderful Wife!
Check out what Shanna gave me for my birthday present. I went to Great Seal with Decker and John, the guy that never breathes heavy. I have to say is is sooooo much different than the ole' Bianchi. I still need to dial it in a bit and put some better tires on it but that is what the the brother that works for a
bike store is for. I am heading up to Ray's to ride 12/22, let me know if anyone else is interested. Great Seal was also a pretty good ride, lots of climbing, yummy on the quads. Keep on spinnin on!
Found this among some old emails. Look at all the not hair. Like a hair club for men ride or something?
Now who can name all these fine folks?
Some pretty white legs I must say.
Brady + Sarah Gitz Hitched
Well Brady and Sarah made it official by getting hitched in front of a Judge about two weeks ago at home. There were here the week before thanksgiving to have a get together with their family and friends. Jen and I made the easy drive up to Sarah's rents house and had a great time. Brady borrowed my road bike, days later to go for a nice ride in the middle of the day with Glen. Brady then took my bike out for a ride the next day and got washed on by a big downpoor and got my bike really dirty. Brady and I even managed to find some time to go for a nice great casual ride the day before they went back home. I put different wheels on my cross bike and rode that, so he could continue making my road bike dirty:) It was certainly nice to see both of them and see the pictures of them at the justice o' piece getting married. Sarah looks as happy as ever and Brady is still bald and fast on a bike. He was telling me his regular weekly ride is about 27 miles with almost 4,000 feet of climbing. Sheesh where can we do that ride in Ohio? uh yeah.
Iceman 2006 - not very icy
Well,
another catch up here on Iceman for 2006. Tim S. Mark F. and Layne were the only columbusites to head up north for the big race. They lenghened the course by 1.5 miles with the grand race total of 28.5 miles from Kalkaska to Traverse City. Tom D. in the pictures didn't attend as he was attending to Jody and their newish baby = tax break. Ezra didn't go this year either as his new home way way up North is too far and too long of a drive to make it worth while. Amazing part was the Single Speed Class was the largest it has ever been in the history of the race. Tim, Layne and I all managed to ride up together in my new Forester and make a great weekend out of attending the race. Race day, the weather was nice hovering about 39 at our hotel, lake front. Driving to Kalkaska for the start brought the temp down to around 34 or so. Tim and I got a really good warm up in and he was ready to start at 9:30 a.m. My start was 10 min later. Layne had a 9:50 start which meant if Layne caught me I was draggin the wagon. Or if I caught Tim, he must have had a mechanical or something else. Well, I never caught Tim, but I did manage to loose track of time since my computer stopped keeping track of my minutes moving around 45 min in to the race. About the halfway point I was still feeling pretty good driving the big ring around as hard as I could muster. Mile 19 rolls up on a little climb, I crest the top of the climb and click, click what is that? over the top of the hill and snap, my chain comes flying off. Dudes are passing me saying oh bummer man. Yeah bummer is right. I grab the chain, put it into my jersey and start running, hop on the bike coast for as long as I can down and around without the brakes to maintain some type of momentem while I try to figure out what to do, since I left my chain tool in the car "hmmm do I need to carry that, naaaah". I ran up every hill and no chained it down every downhill. I managed to make it to about mile 20 or so and there is a guy 
working on his chain off the trail at the top of a hill. I ask him if I can borrow his chain tool, he says sure when he's finished....tick tick tick, time rolls by with all the other riders I have worked so hard to pass the last 20 miles. I hear my name, Layne is cruising by and asks what I need, he throws me his under seat back and is gone like the winter wind. I fix my chain in about 3 min, funny the guy there was still working on his chain cursing up a storm at his tool, asks to borrow mine, I am like yeah whatever, "I am gone dude, sorry". My heart is racing as I hammer back into the groove trying to catch Layne and Tim yet. No luck, I get to the finish area and see Tim off to the left hanging out like he's been there for 20 mintues just chilling. My time: 2:21:35 / Tim's Time: 2:24:25 / Layne: 2:03:36 (oh yeah, Layne was on a Single-Speed). Great result for Tim really, we figure with the course being longer he technically improved
his time over last year by over 10 minutes. I however added 19 min to my time from
last year. I would say I am happy overall with my result, since I basically didn't ride or train for two months because of my
herniated disc. So hindsight, I'll take the extra time. As the doc said, "you know Mark, your not 25 anymore". Layne had one of his better finishes on his
new custom SS 29" bike. He said he felt great and managed to finish 17th out of almost 100 SS racers. Tim and I returned as quickly as we could post race to our fancy schmancy hotel hot tub/pool for some relaxing and finer beverages. Layne hung out and also had some beverages at the finish and watched the pros roll in later in the afternoon. 1:36:57 was the Pro mens winner time. Can you say freak. All in all a great time, highly suggest this race gets put on your 'do before you die list'.
CycloCross Season
well, the riding season is almost over. I managed to get in with Layne and Gary W. a few cyclocross races and have some big time fun on my new Gunnar. Too bad I don't have a lighter weight set of wheels and hubs. Oh well, its a great bike and much more comfy to ride than my Surly.
In the days before porcelain
It wasn't always easy to just jet off to the hills and take a ride... careful planning was a key part of any excursion into the woods. Take this poor hubbard, for instance... miscalculated the strength of his espresso. All of a sudden, in the midst of a strenuous climb, he realizes he's about to increase his power to weight ratio--without increasing power. Yeah, you got it. Luckily for him, there was a rustic commode to help him along in a civilized manner. Unfortunately, the tabloids had an outpost in this very neck of the woods (scouting UFOs with three-nippled aliens), and there you have it. At least he was wearing the Bikesource colors--a sure sign that something's not quite right with him.
Wed Night Dopping Investigation - NEWS ALERT
It has come to the atttention of several media outlets, many of the regular hosts of these Wed Night Rides are involved in dopping. Rumor has it one of these "hosts" even won some type of bike race in the last two weeks and then took some sort of "break" from regular riding. Word, has it this "break" was to allow the "hosts" accelerated superman state to return to normal levels.
The other "Host" cited personal reasons and his "job" for holding him up most of the summer. An investigaton is in the midst, "the truth shall come out" states one regular rider, "I am sick of these guys always being in the front and always being in control of where we are going", says another frustrated rider. Another rider, "its those 17 seconds of sprint", I know that one guy is totally, like on the juice".
Press reports from Europe also reveal several others involved in the investigation. Several un-named "associates" of these "Hosts" oddly enough, keep moving out of state. Word is, these "associates" are moving out of fear of being caught. Up to 6 others now are involved in "operata moveoutastata". "this moving out of state thing, just shows how guilty they are" exclaims one regular rider, "these are the ones providing all the go power for our hosts and I am sick of being in the back".
More info to follow.
United Ohio Press Authority
28th June...
Well, we made it in under the wire. If by "wire" one means streaks of multi-million volt, high-amperage electricity lancing down from big black clouds (or, actually, up from the earth toward the big black clouds). But to start at the beginning:
It was a dodgy afternoon all round, what with big clouds looming and that humid feeling of impending doom (which turned out, in fact, to be something to do with Glen, so we won't dwell on it); but since I hadn't ridden in a couple of weeks (literally), and was relieved to hear that Van was in the same becalmed, swamped, engine-less boat, I figured I'd go come what may.
We convened chez Van -- Joel, Julie, Mark, Marks' team-mate Gary, Glen and myself -- and set off into an increasingly pleasant evening. The air, though a bit humid, felt good as it washed past us. and contrary to expectation my legs neither cramped up immediately nor felt like limp, twisted face flannels. Julie hasn't been on the bike much lately either, but you'd hardly know it. Meanwhile, Glen was cheerfully nattering away about how he'd committed the sin of overtraining -- a sin to which, despite my wholehearted devotion to sinfulness, I've not yet subscribed.
Van did a cloud probability estimation of some sort and led us north, up the eastern flank of that hallowed body of water known as Lake Baika...I mean Alum, sorry. At some point we turned in some other direction and then still another one (I merely follow the cassette &/or buttock in front, truly), at a comfortable but hardly sedate pace. Think of it as a looong warm-up ride.
In Bob's absence we considered gathering a posy of roadside flowers to present to him, but thought better of it.
The roads gave evidence that rain had lately fallen, but it did not fall on us; I felt, quite literally, one single raindrop immediately before the start, and not another afteward.
At a certain point, Julie said to me "I want to do a sprint..." I said, well, I'm sure there's a green sign somewhere out there. She said "no, not
to anything, just an unmotivated sprint." Sure enough, the moment arrived -- we'd drifted to the back, and she said "I think I'll do it now" (or words to that effect), and took off like a weasel shot from the greased colon of that moose that works for the place Van no longer works for. She startled the big boys, I can tell you, and Gary and Joel (I think) took off after her. They reeled her in after an impressive distance, but neither of them, I feel sure, knew why they were pursuing her. Hormones, I guess.
Glen, as he will, took us back along County Line Road. Before we crossed the lake a Toyota full of bopping high school students pulled up next to us at the light, and we observed an admittedly rather dishy blonde 16 or 17 year old in the front seat, eating ice cream in what was obviously a deliberately seductive way. Not. So Mark, being Mark, demanded some; the spoon was offered and then the light changed, so Mark didn't get any ice cream (or anything else) and the spoon only just changed hands before the driver zipped off and we headed out onto the pewter-colored windswept expanse of the reservoir. After which we were off up the swooping humps that ascend from the lake toward the intersection with Red Bank, led by Joel and Mark, with me trailing, and the saner riders making their more or less stolid way up the rise; at this point, some 24 miles in, the sky was frowning down on us in a distinctly hostile manner, albeit relieved with some gorgeous sun-rimmed cloudscapes. We seemed to be threading a needle between angry-looking cells of thunderstorm, while in the distance, to the southeast, a simply huge pink mass of storm looked as though whatever cloud was over us would be a better cloud by comparison.
As we approached Ulry I said "oh, I know where we are, it's Ulry up ahead," to which Joel said "no, not for a few more streets," adding various other vague insults and deprecations. We duly passed onto Ulry exactly as I'd foreseen, and I -- motivated by the increasing density of nasty bloody bolts of lightning to our west -- began to push the pace teensy bit. Mark, being Mark, thought I was trying to pull a sneaky move and get away; in two shakes of a lamb's tail (or at least, three calibrations of a heartbeat monitor's span) he was on my wheel like a leech. "Good evening," I said, probably inaudibly, into the wind. "I'm Julian, and I'll be your rabbit tonight." I time-trialed my way across the flat and onto the lower slopes of the Col du Green Sign, at which point I turned and said to Mark, "Well, go on!" And he did. But I did come second, and kept pushing all the way to Haussman.
Off the bike, exchanged shoes for driving-friendly footwear, front wheel off, bike into blanket in trunk, helmet and gloves into bag, wave goodbye to the friendly folk, and into the car. Drive 1/4 mile and KERBLAMMO: raindrops the size of well-fed mice suddenly pounding on the car,
and an abysmal darkness fell. We made it, as I said, under the wire.
31.87 miles, mean speed 17.1 mph, my max 37 flat (though I know Julie broke 40 on one of the downhills), 1 hour and 51 minutes.
