A long day of playing catch up at work involved calming several employees down who seem to develop “entitlementitis” when I’m gone. My “kids” at work may need a daycare director next time I leave as it never ceases to amaze me how 50 and 60 year old adults can get all up under each other’s skin. The thing that makes the older gen set harder to manage than kids is that they are set in their ways and they know too damn much about life so you can’t trick them or teach them to act appropriately. Kids are easy to motivate, guide, and keep happy.

Speaking of which, we had the Red Headed Temper Tantrum and Nate Dawg over last night as guests of Lyza. Dana tricked one into thinking he all of a sudden liked bean and veggie burritos with asparagus – the seven year old dude never eats and here he was wolfing down an unfathomable amount of food. His heavily augmented (front side bolt on plus 2’s), severely unhappy, semi-trophy Mom who I went to college with 20 years ago played it off like “oh he always eats veggies”. Nate Dawg has a crush on Lyza partially because she wrestles him and his friends to the ground. Let’s just say its not because of skills its because she’s about 8 inches taller and 20 pounds heavier than Nate Dawg. At the end of the night it was me, D, Nate Dawg and Lyza on the front step just yapping it up – kid talk of course. Lyza said some rhyme about how some boys are hot….Nate was looking at her with glazed eyes.

Here we go – she’s going into second grade and I’m already sizing Nate Dawg and his family up…..Nate is a great athlete, his Mom was a teacher and his dad is a dentist. They are bible thumpers, but in a keep it to themselves way. I can live with all that unless he brings her home after 8pm from their bike ride around the park.

I snuck out for a quick hour ride this morning at 6:00am. Warm air, the quiet forest…..60 minutes of singletrack always puts a smile on my face.

Back On/In the Saddle

By the end of our trip, I’m sure we smelled like fish that’s been in your refrigerator a little too long – to my parents anyway. We had a great time, but I would bet that they all took a nap, went out for a steak, and enjoyed the day after we left.

Lyza is a high energy kid, and we went from 9am - 10pm each day at full throttle. Amusement park rides, water park slides, baseball games, miniature golf, swimming, miniature golf, kayaking, boat time, alpine slide rides. When I dropped Lyza off at her Mom’s last Wednesday night after the trip home I even paused for a second before I got in my car and just thought about it all……a solo vacation with my daughter – and how special that time was. The time with my parents was fantastic. I wished D could have been there though, and I know she won’t miss the fun next summer.

Did I ride? No. Did I run? No – f*ck no I don’t even run at home unless it’s to catch an escaped dog. I did nothing more than play – Frisbee, swimming…that was about the extent of it. When I left had every intention of not losing the fitness I had built through the first 5 months of the year, but I had an overwhelming feeling to just shut it all down and hit my own personal reset button.

I’m paying for it today, but not as badly as I thought. D re-introduced me to Flagstaff on Saturday with a 50 mile road ride. Yesterday, I took my Rig out for an hour and a half MTB ride and after a massage/stretch last night I feel pretty good. I had so much f*cking fun on both rides – and I am ready to bust ass in July to get ready for the events that come later this summer. The mountain bike ride in particular was borderline existential or whatever the hell that means. My legs were just OK, and I could feel the elevation a bit having been at 700 feet for 2 weeks, but carving the downhill turns and the burn of the climbs felt fabu..

The Scalpel sold and shipped today and so I’m down to one mountain bike and a roadie. I got me some o’ dem new carbon Ritchey parts coming for it soon – you know – to go with the new wheelset that should be done in a couple of weeks. Summer feels great, and I can’t wait to get out of work already. Yeah – I’ve been back all of 4 hours and I’m throwing down a 15 minute blog entry. Hey, priorities ya know?!

Day 1 - Happy Father's Day y'all

When I tell people I’m heading back to Minnesota for vacation they invariably say something like “WTF?”, or just a simple “Family trip?”. Then the bug jokes follow with snarky remarks like “Bring your Deet”, and “Isn’t the state bird a mosquito?”.

We go back because we get to connect with family, there’s a ton of fun stuff to do that you can’t do in AZ, and it is a cheap trip. So we fly out Friday, sans D who is in school until June 25th. I’ll miss her hanging out with us. I’ve scoped out everything from Minnesota Twins tickets – cheap seats – for $1.50, a day visit to Valleyfair and their waterpark, renting a mountain bike and competing at the Thursday Night @ Buck Hill races, and of course hanging out on the lake in the day and watching old movies at night with few cans of Old Style. I don’t care if it’s rain or shine, we’ll have a good time.

I spent yesterday balls to the wall at work from 6:30am on solving staffing and Wi-Fi issues and I think we have a good handle on both. Then, I treated myself to a 3 hour self-inflicted hammer fest on the singlespeed. I rolled into the garage on about 10psi in the rear tire and an out of true rear wheel again, with no water/food for the last 5 miles. That was OK though – it was almost all downhill the last 5. I stumbled over to the grocery store after a 1 minute shower and bought two frozen burritos, two cartons of soy milk and bananas. Dinner was two burritos, a huge fruit protein shake, which was washed down by a can of Tecate – or two. I fell asleep slumped over in our office chair surfing CNN headlines.

So, it’s time for the trip home. I’ll do just enough riding an old family Cross Bike on the rails-to-trails to stay sharp, spend LOTS of time on the lake, fishing, and just hanging out with the family. When I get back it’ll be busy at work, and I’ll have a month to really turn the screws on my fitness for some mid-summer races. I’m lookin’ forward to the break and coming home to the start of the Flagstaff monsoon season.

Road racing is an entirely different animal than mountain biking. For fu*k’s sake (my favorite British expression – so much more animated than “lovely”, “brilliant” or “cheers”) it’s about power to weight ratio (ultra lightweight bikes and skinny/strong bodies), matching kits/clothing, there’s a ton of rules about etiquette and safety riding in a group, and road riders love stats….time/distance/average speeds/cadence/wattage, along with the various heart rate monitor readouts that tell you if you’re in your “zone” or not. Road riding is also all about efficiency. Efficiency in your pedal stroke and shifting can make those riders who don’t ‘get it’ look like idiots – especially once you hit the 50 mile mark

Most of the fast ‘roadies’ I know are incredibly detailed; in their preparation, the way they ride, and how they recover and train again the next day. This is hard for me to understand because at heart I’m a hammerhead mountain biker that appreciates no gears, difficult trails that do not foster efficiency, and no end of ride stats other than a subjective analysis of how I feel physically and mentally. In short, I despise details and that translates to my broad-scope preparation and training for any effort.

Every now and then I see the light, and focus on the details even though it hurts my frontal lobe to do so. Yesterday I rode with D out to our local hill climb. I rested the day before and D treated me to some trigger point therapy for my tight muscles which felt great. I woke up ready to give it all I had – mentally I was set. A smaller than usual breakfast was the choice in anticipation of riding with digested food before a hard effort – what a concept! I warmed up at a reasonable pace, hydrated before and during, and while on the climb I shifted properly, kept a consistent high cadence on the steeps, stood and hammered on the false flats, and came across the line for a personal best time that would put me near the back of the local race scene peloton if we raced up as a group. Who cares – it’s the best I have ever done. I’d give you the stats, but I forgot the details about how to save them in my cyclo computer and erased them. Guess I'll have to do it again, a bit faster this time? For f*ck's sake, that means I'll have to prepare.....

My sorry ass gimped home last night after a long day at the office, and specifically getting my ass kicked by a failed Wi-Fi system that we invested in four years ago. I thought we had more time to address upgraded technology, but……so I have a resort full of guests who are as addicted to their internet access as trailer park residents in St. Clair Shores Michigan are addicted to 40oz bottles of Olde English, filterless Marlboro’s and wife beater T-shirts. The crazy thing is that my crack addict guests aren’t jonesing for www.cnn.com, or www.velonews.com, or www.huffingtonpost.com, nope, they need to log on to their Facebook and Myspace pages. Wow. Maybe I need to get one of those pages so I know what the f*ck I’m missing.

Got home, stretched my kit on, bundled up a bit for the wind, and hit the ground with legs that felt like kiln dried Douglas Fir. Doug Fir ain’t that tough and neither was I. The warm-up out to Snowbowl Road was less than memorable, with a stupid-strong headwind and drivers that probably never learned to ride a bike as they were less than tolerant of me taking my 1.2 feet of room on the right side of the road. One close call had me breathing pretty hard considering I was pushing all of an 11mph pace into the wind. Enough – I turned onto Snowbowl Road and began the 10K climb with no traffic. I missed the group hill climb start by 35 minutes, so I had no chance of catching anyone on the way up…..wait, what’s that.

It was two riders spinning what appeared to be a cadence of maybe 30 – standing, swaying, and really struggling up the mountain. I used them as motivation and spun by as smooth as I could with a quick “nice evening isn’t it?” - laden with every intention of demoralizing them. I’m an A-hole, I know. Let me just say when you’re suffering, it gives one great pleasure to transfer some of that energy on others to lighten your load. The descent was even better, carving the turns and hitting nearly 50mph on one straightaway.

Well it came back to me in spades, that goddamn Karmic whore that she is. D and I going through future plans last night tasted like a sh*tburger supreme and I’m still eating them today. Lemme just say that I believe that life is so f*cking precious that you better not be wasting time waiting for things. So, live it up, go full throttle this weekend and let’s share stories on Monday about how tired we are from the weekend.

Even though I am a card carrying Lefty, you gotta love this from our friends in Ireland (contributed by Sheck):

The Irish are such clear thinkers:

"We, in Ireland , can't figure out why you are even bothering to hold an election in the United States . On one side, you have a witch who is a lawyer, married to a lawyer, running against a lawyer who is married to a witch who is a lawyer. On the other side, you have a war hero married to a good looking rich woman who owns a beer distributorship. What are you lads thinking over there?"

I pulled my full suspension bike off of E-Bay this morning. Seems I have a friend who can't make it to the Leadville 100, and he asked if I'd pretend to be him at registration and ride it......he's covering the $120 race entry fee. Uhhhh yeah, I can do that. August 9th - here I come!

Here's a horrific picture of a drunk driver steering into a police escorted peloton during a road race in Mexico. The driver was from Brownsville, TX. One racer died, and 5 others were seriously injured. Be careful out there.......

A buddy of mine that lives down the street, in the Hospital Hill Ghetto across from Inappropriate Dave (so named because not only is he obscenely vulgar, but he also paints visual pictures of anything remotely disgusting/vile/cynical/ and is sure to offend and even pull the race card as often as I get a face card on my 12-16 hands at a blackjack table with a 6-deck shoe), and Sir Klausington (an ex bike shop owner who is so severely insecure that whenever you’ve done it, he’s done it faster, and if you can fix it, he can fix it better) has a huge opportunity. Said buddy Ellsie, who has been mentioned auspiciously and inauspiciously here – and who is always pining for photo credits and corrections to his posted running/hiking/biking times – has been invited by his employer to run in the 6-day Trans Rockies Challenge. Let’s just say invited means “sponsored” - fully. Yeah baby……Picture six consecutive days of running 20 miles, with an average daily climb of 4,000 feet+. I’d call him a stud but he’d never let me live it down. Thankfully he rides a mountain bike as fast as his 7 year old son, and a road bike like his 5 year old daughter.

So, my little 2.75 hour Sunday morning ride began at 5:30am with temps in the low 40’s. I froze my ass off until I got about 20 minutes in – thankfully you can warm up fast as it’s all uphill for up to 2.5 hours and 3,650 feet of climbing if you want that kind of pain. I chose to climb for about 30 minutes and then headed across the peaks to Snowbowl Road via up and down singletrack and saw nothing more than a small pack of elk and some goofy short-short trail runners (who by the way are horriffic dressers - what is it about trail runners?- with the exception of my wife who was dressed to the 9's in her full coolmax Nike outfit on Sunday), and just an exquisite sunrise that was lighting the trail for me as I headed west. It was a drop in the bucket compared to what Ellsie the Running Man will be tackling in August. However, my little 2.75 hour ride was muy fantastico. I dunno how many miles because I don’t ride with a computer on my MTB – but I can tell you that I arrived home flat-out hammered and content to do whatever the rest of the day tossed my way. What it tossed was about 1,000 f*cking dishes as we seemed to just cook/eat/cleanup all day. It was insane, and by the end of the day I paid myself back with 7/8 of a pint of ice cream in a bowl watching 27 Dresses – a chick flick that actually had some very redeeming qualities for the first hour…..and then like every other movie….it digressed into Hollywood schmutz. D and I about puked at the predictable end.

Anyway – the rest of the weekend was about organizing the garage, playing with kids, a little time at the pool both days, and some good eats. In 2 weeks we’ll be in Minnesota/Canada for 10 days of fishing…..and hanging out on the water drinkin’ Molson’s. No DUI’s on Rainy Lake, in fact they kinda look at you funny if you DON’T have a cooler of Molson’s.

The Man let me out of work yesterday..... late – but there was enough time to squeeze in a short road ride. It was enough time and effort to clear my cabeza and then go enjoy a cheap Thai meal with D downtown.

So my first week of official carpooling has been a success. We reduced our weekly mileage by 120 miles, which translates to roughly 4.5 gallons of gas. That’s $18.54 in gas savings + the reduced carbon emission. It doesn’t seem like a lot but I guess I’ll keep doing it as often as possible.

I’m a selfish prick. I can’t believe how inconvenienced I felt on a couple of the mornings thinking “what if I want to leave early or later – what if my schedule changes?” Well the only way my schedule would really change is if somebody called me about going on a bike ride that started at 4:30pm. I’d want to be there. Who knows, I’ll probably get used to this sooner than later.

No racing for me this weekend, as there aren’t any going on. Good luck to Josh and Steve at 9-Mile forest in Wausau WI. That is by far one of my favorite Midwest racetracks to play on.

Colonics are a popular cleansing mechanism in Sedona. There are mobile colonic trucks that just roll around town like port-a-john pumpers and come right to your door - do their thing - and roll on to the next house. Having not had a 5/8" tube (help me with another word for inserted as I need to get past the visual) _________ up my a**, and having no plans for it, I prefer to be cleansed on the trails.

The post work hookup this afternoon with speedy GP failed to launch - GP had a blown out sidewall and didn't want to deal with Stans'ing it up at 5pm. I managed to get in 2.5 hours of a religious-like singletrack awakening and rolled into the driveway as the sun hit the horizon. I get asked occasionally 'why only one gear?'. My usual answer is "I've seen Jesse LaLonde race and there is no disadvantage to pushing one big-ass gear - if you can do it" Since that answer means exactly sh*t to 99% of people I know, lemme' tell ya in language that my rich and famous friends can digest. All 2 of them.

You have 120K to spend on a car, and you are looking at a Porsche and a 'Vette. With the Porsche you get status, luxury, and performance. With the 'Vette you get performance, and 50K in change to go spend on something else. Both cars get you to California in under 5 hours if you don't get caught. Liberal freaks, left-wing terroristas and Eco-warrior concerns aside from this ridiculous quandry, which one you gonna hypothetically buy?

I guess I'm saying I'm opting to rock the singlespeed with a new Mavic 29'er rim/Chris King hub wheelset, and buy some new patio furniture with the change.

Damn.

$4.12 per gallon on the way home tonight. I carpooled with a coworker and we're carpooling tomorrow too. It's not going to drop back down again. As it probably should be. I'm now hiring hourly staff that are making around $9/hour and they are negotiating a fuel allowance at .505 cents per mile. I don't blame them - and I'll pay it - I need good people.

At our Cafe today I overheard some f*ckface say "I hope McCain gets elected so we can open up drilling in Alaska, and we can become reliant on our own oil". Like I said, this guy was a f*ckface. He's probably the same dipsh*t who thinks that because his Chevy says "Flexfuel" on the back of it he's doing us all a favor by having a vehicle capable of burning ethanol.

Ethanol, don't even get me started.

I raced on Saturday. I raced my teammate around an 18 mile singletrack maze and held him off for about a 15 second victory after around 2 hours.....no, it wasn't an official race with podium girls and prize money. It was just one of those 'looks' we gave each other and it was on. I raced myself on Monday, and pushed myself into a wall doing it. An hour and 40 minutes of self-inflicted pain that had me laid out on the floor at home with an empty mug of Espresso and crumbs leftover from six Newman Oreos, nearly asleep. I don't even remember eating dinner. Jesus, if I just had this kind of career motivation I'd be living some big existence somewhere with a drop top Benz, a really small barky dog, and three extra Sonicare Toothbrushes just because I can.

A big MTB effort tomorrow after work coming up with GP - a race I would always lose if we gave each other that 'look'. F*cking 27 year olds.....Ahh whatever, I'm faster now than when I was 27 it's just that I don't have GP's talent so I just have to eat that Jagged Little Pill, isn't that ironic - dontcha' think.

Bodhi tearin' it UP at Schultz Tank and look what's for sale on E-Bay soon......we had a good weekend once the snow melted.

So after a rock-em, sock-em winter/spring riding season I am left with the following riding options this weekend:

1-Klein Q-Pro Carbon Team road bike

The Scalpel needs a new set of tires as there is a 1/4” x 1/4” hole in the rear one (new Schwalbe’s on the way – thank you Mr. Bartoszuk), and the Rig suddenly acquired a nearly taco-ed front wheel. Thanks to disc brakes, I was able to ride it home sans any significant brake rubbing. I planted that front hoop in a few washed out ditches yesterday, but I couldn’t tell you where it took the big hit. Maybe that means I’ll have to “invest" in a new wheelset. American Classic - Industry 9? Yummy.

So, Memorial Day Weekend….traditionally 75 degrees, sunny, and statistically the driest part of the year for Flagstaff. Not this weekend. Starting on Friday we’re expecting 2 days of rain and snow, and 12-18 inches of snow at the ski resort. Are you freakin’ kidding me?! High of 38 on Friday, and maybe 44 on Saturday. I couldn’t be happier about the fact that I chose not to vacation in Colorado this weekend as it won’t be much warmer there.

On another note, I met with my financial advisor yesterday. That’s absolutely tongue in cheek because I always find it comical when people say “Call my lawyer”, or “I’ll check with my accountant”. There’s this strange sense of ownership that some individuals enjoy proclaiming about their professional relationships. Anyway, back to “my financial advisor”. He’s a great guy who has helped me at least create some semblance of a retirement since my work offers exactly SQUAT. Bottom line here is that I’m on track with regards to saving for Lyza’s college, and I’m behind on my own retirement. I asked him if I only live to 70, will I be good. He says – well sure, but what if you live until you’re 105?

So with that being said, I’m shooting for a balls to the wall life experience where I use up my body and kick the bucket doing something I love before 70. If not, that college money I’m saving for Lyza better help her get really smart as she’ll need money to support me living in her guest room driving her to drink until I’m 105. When playing SORRY last night, I asked Lyza which one she’d prefer and she’s totally cool with me living with her until I’m 105. Being wise beyond her years, I know that’ll change, but too bad. We shook on it, so I slept well last night knowing that I have a solid retirement plan in place now.

I found my motivation.....it involved blowing off work this morning for a singlespeed shred around the base of Mt. Elden. Temps dropped back into the 50's, 2.5 hours - yeah, that feels better. Now, I have to head on in and make up the time. It couldn't have been more worth it.

Tonight is the first time I have noticed the crickets. It's been a while. It was a long winter, and this spring has been nothing short of ridiculously windy, and colder than usual. I've got a new mountain bike and my wife's last e-mail on my mind. There are quiet, but indicative noises coming from Lyza's room - she's drawing because she can't fall asleep. There was another Amy Winehouse song on the radio this afternoon, one that has stuck in my head - "Valerie". I shouldn't have posted that pic of her because it reminds me of being 15 when I couldn't look two directions and not see Billy Ocean at least once. William Ocean - the satin suit Caribbean King.

My college roommate T-Bone is getting married this weekend. I can't be there. I'm feelin' bad about that, but, something had to give. F*ck. I'll regret not being there.

What's my motivation this week? I'm not so sure right now.

Ms. Winehouse - is this what talent, money, and fame get ya? Guess I'm content to stay mediocre, middle-class and unknown.

I gave it a go, and my legs have unsuccessfully responded. Calves are knotted, and that's not good when you're standing on your pedals for 3 hours. There will be no racing for me this weekend - just a lot of cheerleading and 12 ounce curls. Enjoy yer weekend whateva' you may be doin.

The State MTB Finals are in two days. Two weeks ago, I was feeling strong and ready to rip. Since then? A fantastic, no-regrets hike that has me still – 5 days later - walking down stairs like a duck. I’ve consumed more beers than miles ridden in the last 5 days due to a quick trip to Sin City. Finally, the only course worth riding is the Singlespeed/Expert 24 mile loop with a ton o’ technical stuff and lots o’ climbing. What I’m saying is my race will be a “day of” decision. If I can get these knots out of my calves then I’d have a fighting chance of finishing mid-pack in the Singlespeed division. Is that worth $50 when I can ride these trails for free any day of the week? I dunno. Maybe I’m more worried about humiliation from teammates and locals, which is stupid because everyone is supportive and we all have off days. The thing is, I have to ride my SS, as my geared bike needs new tires and I don’t have another $50 to blow on tires right now. The excuses are piling up aren’t they? I just want this bike racing to be fun, and it’s not feeling fun right now.

My Uncle just unceremoniously quit his job after 20+ years of service with the Fed Reserve Bank of Dallas. He’s going to live with us for 3 months and see if Flagstaff is for him. That takes some balls to make a life changing decision like that. Maybe I should grow a pair and race this weekend.

I’m Leaving Las Vegas……actually, I think I just left for the last time. I’ve had some great times, some good times, and never a bad time there. Over the course of what, probably 15 trips? – I’ve probably lost about as much as I have won playing $5 blackjack. The consummate ‘broke even’ Vegas consumer. The one that the Convention Visitor’s Bureau likes because ultimately I end up paying for room/meals/transportation in spite of breaking even on the tables and sports book. Nothin’ against Vegas, I think it’s just not that alluring blonde babe that it once was back when I was 21.

We had an epic hike in the Grand Canyon last Saturday. 8 hours, 6,000 feet of climbing and 6,000 feet of descending over 17 miles. The Colorado river is astounding, and I can understand why people become river runners and stay in that profession for many years. It was 65 degrees on the South Rim when we started, 95 degrees at the bottom, and 55 when we got back to the rim at 6pm. I was cooked, my calves still hurt and I walk stairs like a gimp. My buddy Ellsie did 42 miles over 17 hours – quite a feat even though his goal was 12 hours. We never hooked up because his group was late getting back to a checkpoint, 3 hours late. We passed one lady on our way down – she was heading up with a party of about 6. She had wrecked her knee to the point where she could hardly walk and she was a good 1.5 miles from the next safe zone. Then one dude was on the side of the trail with an IV under a portable sunshade with a Park Ranger monitoring his blood pressure. There’s signs everywhere saying “don’t go down and up in one day”. Uh huh.

Pics to follow tonight….

I f*ckin’ hate Walgreens because if I’m there I’m sick looking for cold medication, or picking up some shlocky holiday décor at the last minute for work. Throw in one of the most uniformly “I couldn’t care less” nationwide pool of employees who are surely making a hair over minimum wage, overcrowded aisles that have 165 f*ckin’ types of allergy medications, 234 types of aspirin and I get a god*amn headache when I’m already sick just lookin’ for what the hell I need. The pharmacists are overwhelmed with ‘scrip orders because a whole shi*load of Americans are constantly medicated and walking around the Pharmacy like f*cking Sleestacks from the Land of the Lost. F*ck that f*ckin’ place.

This is probably the most powerful piece of writing I have laid my eyes on -

Fatcyclist

Go there and then say "I'm thankful for my crappy job, my OK body, and my great friends and family.....cause you will be thankful.

Last night was a struggle. I looked at my rollers, they looked at me, and we both said 'uh no'. Then, I vainly glanced at a picture of me taken at a mountain bike race last summer. It was snapped with about 400 yards to go in a 20 mile race. I had just moved into second place and the 3rd place guy was about 5 seconds behind me. If I wanted to get to that place again, my rollers and I had to work out a deal.

We did.

I went to www.hulu.com and played the 70's blaxploitation flick Penitentiary. Hopped onto the rollers with my heart rate monitor, and spun for 20 minutes. I had no luck or motivation in getting my heart rate above 105. So, I went to switching off pedaling one leg at a time. That did it and got me to the hour mark. The movie? If you are able to see the intentional and unintentional comedy then it is pretty fun to watch. I lasted 1/2 way and figured I'd cue it up next time I'm on the rollers to watch the rest.

A good ol' buddy of mine, www.ellenjo.com, often sent(ds) me obscure VHS tapes and cassettes as a joke. I attempted to reciprocate, but I could never match her .99 cent store titles like: Mel Gibson's Payback on VHS (en espanol with subtitles no less), a Richard Marx "live" cassette, and I'll never forget the copy of "Swayze Dancing" that she gave me in VHS format. I haven't watched the movies, but I did listen to the Richard Marx tape when I last had a tape deck in my car. That little dude definitely cashed in on his sweet Shorty-Longback mullet (business up front, party in the back). Thinking back to the 80’s, I think R. Marx started the acid washed jeans trend too.

See what happens when I train indoors? I can’t wait to get outside again.

Yeah, yeah, I know that it is cliché to rag on chain coffee houses. The smaller chains like Caribou in the Midwest (and especially the dedicated local shops like Flagstaff's Wicked AZ Coffee) do a lot of things right, and as a former co-worker, Michael Buffoonzo (name changed of course to protect those not knowing they were quoted) once said: “Like, how can you beat paying $4.00 for a perfect coffee at a drive thru on your way to work and there’s, like, nothing, like to clean up”. Mike was lighter in the loafers than Liberace, not that there's anything wrong with that. Mike went to Starbucks 5 days a week x $4.00 per coffee x 52 weeks….that doesn’t even include weekend trips for Macchiato’s and half-caf double decafs. So $1,040 in coffee drinks – sorta ironic that 1040 is the standard tax form, cause $1,040 is more along the lines of what I would expect to get BACK in April even though Bush has already spent my money on the war, but that’s another issue.

So his approval rating is now below 30%. How the f*ck did it take so long for the working class to figure out that he’s been screwing them for 6 straight years? Why is it that even up until maybe six months ago, my (insert stereotype) contractor/jeep driver friends and their families were still in bed with President assclown and his horrendous choices? Is it a lack of education? – I don’t think so as this is more about common sense. Is it an undying belief in “faith” – both in the spiritual sense and in our leaders? Maybe.

Seriously, as gas prices have risen, this segment of my friends have grown more disenchanted with Dubya. It’s as if they didn’t give a sh*t until it impacted their ability to haul a camper to a remote place in Colorado on the weekend. It’s as if they didn’t even realize they were being screwed until they had to sell their Quads to save the gas/insurance money to fuel their Silverado’s. Until it him ‘em in the wallet – it all didn’t mean much. Now they are lecturing me on the pitfalls of Bush’s administration. I love it.

I also love riding my singlespeed. We did some trail maintenance yesterday and that is some bluddy hard work. The State Finals course is 27 hard miles – that will likely take me 3 hours and 20-30 minutes on my SS. Lyza was out there with me cutting trail yesterday too, and we missed D, as she was in Phoenix. Now….back at the saw mill.

Happy Cinco de Drinko…..tip back a Tecate or two.

Waddn't no jailbreak yessaday from work - I put in a hard effort there, and got out just in time to quickly shed the monkey suit, and throw on the lycra by 4:30pm. The plan was a group ride with Flagstaff's finest showing off their early season climbing capabilities. Me and GP picked up Stay at Home Lucky F*cker CW - who incidently seems to have tooo much time to train with both of his kids in school - and we headed out towards the climb. Warmed the legs, but not too much because the wind was howling and a cold front from freakin' Canada was barreling down. 8 riders showed up and immediately we were off.

Stat line:
164 average heart rate
9.5mph average
2000 vert
989 calories burned
38.5 minutes

Not bad stats at all, in fact it was 15 seconds slower than my personal best - into a headwind as well......but, if it weren't for a Dad who is "living my dream to be a pro cyclist vicariously through my son"and of course his daddy's goal-driven 14 year old son bringing up the rear around 4 minutes behind me, and a strong, but suicidal single speed track bike rider pushing a cadence of around 30 on the steep slopes who, incidentally, I finally caught in the final stretch.....I would have been dead f*cking last.

Back down to town, and my body is shivering from the cold. It was to the point where I began chattering my front wheel at 25+ mph and I had to mentally tell myself to 'Harden the f*ck up'. Ahhhhh...there's my house! Park the bike, strip the clown costume, into the hot tub and 40 minutes later emerge warm, but starving and somewhat incoherent. Food dump into the gullet, a Tecate that buzzed my calorie deprived body and brain, and throw on the first 45 minutes of NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN. Let me just say this: If I found a suitcase with 2mil I would - in no particular order:
-NOT, 12 hours later, go back to the place where I found the suitcase to give a dying drugrunner water.
-Not tell anyone....wife, kids, family, friends
-Remove the money from said suitcase IN CASE there were a tracking device. Then, hide the money for 2 years before I spent a dime.

F*ck I'm still cold from yesterday. I got a stable full of kids coming over tonight, so that ought to get my blood boiling again.

I overheard an announcement on my news source radio station, NPR, that they were doing a segment on Flagstaff at 6:00pm tonight. Cool, I thought. Or not.......actually. The title of the segment is Flagstaff: Poverty with a View.

It's true - there are definately three categories of residents. The have's (Doctors, Engineers, and University Professors), the Hanging in there's (Read: Me, other 'professionals' in just about every industry - mostly service and construction), and the have nots who are supporting these industries and/or collecting welfare. As long as land is in strong demand out west, as it probably will always be in my lifetime, prices will be absurd and most residents will be short timers, leaving room for new residents to give it a shot living here. I would estimate that only 25% of the current residents have actually lived here longer than 10 years. Everyone else just passes through for a few years - and then on to Dillon, CO - Bend, OR - Truckee, CA - etc etc.....It isn't any wonder really. Housing goes for $275 per square foot on average. If we had not arrived and bought before the last BOOM, we would have moved on like everyone else.

Me saving money here? No. Big 401K at my small resort? Not even a retirement plan. Cost of living is cheap? Hell no - 4 seasons of clothes are required. Schools are the best in the country? Hardly.

Now let me tell ya why we do live here. Views? Fantastic. Recreation? Endless. Cool temps year-round? Love it. AND......The State Mountain Bike Race Series concludes on 5/17. The starting line is 500 yards from my front door.....out the driveway, up a gravel trail into the woods and Gooooooooooooooooooo!

Office jailbreak at 3:00pm and I'm on my way to a rest stop half way between Sedona and Cottonwood. Strip off the monkey suit, put on the lycra costume, set up the bike, and make sure I didn't forget anything...this time I didn't. I rode the 8 miles into Cottonwood as a warm up as this group ride tends to start F F F fast - ripping it up a 7% grade about 1/4 mile from the start. I met GP, Tall Todd, Green Goblin, the Kid and a couple others - total of 8. Three of them are Cat 3's - so I was in for a fast ride. Road racing is entirely about hanging tough during the surges, recovering, and then going again and again and again. I hung tough until the first real climb and got shelled off the back about 20 seconds in arrears...recover...recover....recover, fortunately the leaders waited so me and another dude didn't have to try a suicidal bridge back to the top dawgs. The second climb into Sedona is longer an I was near the back with a guy sucking my wheel. Tired of that shit, I stood up, accelerated for 10 seconds and lost him. I waited just a bit like a carrot to him, and as soon as he caught back on I stood again and hit the gas, this time about 15 seconds. I wanted to do it again, but he was not coming back.

We had 4 "town line" sprints and I could not get get there first to any of them....4 second places by a bike length or less made me the ugly bridesmaid for the day. I just don't have the top-end power like the Cat 3's - and probably never will. Content with that, I formed an echelon with the group on the way back to protect us from the wicked head/partial cross wind blowing at 25. 16 miles of that hard work - nearing now the end of the ride, but one more sprint....2nd again. The Green Goblin, AKA Jeremy in his green Diadora shoes got me with plenty of room to spare.

Stats:
164 average heart rate
56 miles
A little under 2.5 hours
185 max heart rate
Climbing - a lot

I think 183bpm is my true redline. I went past that once and I got into a semi-sick feeling that kind of mirrored a hypothermia/vicodin/and Red Bull cocktail all at once - I think Brett Favre drinks those for breakfast. I didn't go there again for fear of ending the ride much earlier than the planned ride time.

Good ni...

If Roger Clemens were Barry Bonds, his little slander case against his former trainer would be covered like a huge roid-infested slander case that was Barry Bonds circa 2002 – 2006. Here is the difference between the two: Clemens isn’t black. That’s about it. Both players dominated their sport for 20 or so years. Both were bound for the Hall of Fame. Both of their bodies actually became fitter as they reached their 40’s.

Clemens has opened up good ol’ fashioned box o’ Pandora – likely out of pride, spite and revenge – that will undoubtedly reveal a lot of less than savory morsels about himself and his family. He’ll get his due by either losing his slander case against his former trainer who claimed Clemens did ‘roids, or he’ll get his due by being excluded from the Hall of Fame. Or he’ll get both shitburgers for the price of…..well, a lot. I couldn’t imagine dragging my family through a nationally publicized trial about my personal life. Although, about all they could say about me is I’m boring, I ride bikes, and I fall asleep around 9pm every night. Woo hoo! There’s some Pulitzer journalism for ya.

4:30pm ride with the fast boys down in Cottonwood on road bikes today. I’m up for the pain of trying to stay with this group for a couple of hours – but that’s because I’m shining a seat with my ass at a resting heart rate right now. “Race” report to follow tomorrow.

Floyd Landis showed up for the Whiskey 50 this year. I did not. When you’re working hard on maintaining a long distance relationship sometimes you need a time out or two. That’s what D and I decided to do this weekend. It wasn’t like we got a ton of time together, but it was a heck of a lot more than if I had used up all of Saturday to race.

Floyd didn’t win, as some super fit dudes from outside of Vail, CO showed up and took a lot of the top 10 places. Word on the street said that the course was as hard as usual, and most of my teammates finished at the same pace or slower than last year. I’m not sure how I feel about pretty boy Floyd. Doper – probably. Bad guy? Who’s to say….there’s a lot of pressure to win at the highest level and I’m not gonna make a moral judgement. Lance cheated, but never got caught. Floyd got caught. Sounds a lot like 2 guys in the same boat to me….one is an icon and one is a villain.

In lieu of the race, D and I took Saturday morning to road ride up to Snowbowl. We had a nice climb up, and for a chick who hasn’t been riding at all – she pulled a 44 minute climb outta her arse which is a pretty decent time. It hurt. It always hurts. The fitter you are the faster you go – so it always hurts. I went back up a second time, and got in 3 hours total ride time. I’m feeling pretty good right now as I feel like I’ve built up a good base. It’s time to move on to some speed work and our local clubs have a CRIT on Tuesday and a Snowbowl hillclimb on Thursday.

My parents showed up for a 1-night visit on their way back to MN for the summer. Their appearance is much like Floyd’s. Rare, but exciting. We had a great dinner at home, and walked downtown for some dessert at a schwanky – by Flagstaff standards – restaurant. They rolled out to Utah in the AM……

May 10th marks the day A to the E could die. He’s attempting a Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim run/hike/crawl in 12 hours. That’s down the South Kaibab trail to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and then reverse back down to the bottom and back up the South Rim. 42 miles and 10,000 feet of climbing + 10,000 feet of descending. Hell on your hips, ankles, etc….We are going to hike down the South Kaibab and lounge at Phantom Ranch for the late morning and afternoon and then escort him out of the canyon on his way back, as he says he’ll need some motivation/support. That’s a 14 mile hike for us – which sounds like plenty to me.

Sufferfest 2008 begins at 9:00am this Saturday. The start line is about 100 yards south on Whiskey Row in downtown Prescott and after one hellish 52 mile loop, it finishes on the same stretch of pavement. This year I’m bringin’ the following to the race:

-a fairly fit body that will make a run at finishing in less than 5 hours
-a 6 day taper (although 30 minutes per day on the rollers to stay sane)
-hydration… fer crissakes I’m like a leaky boat– peeing every hour or so
-a Camelbak (I hate wearing packs for races, but I’m not getting behind on food and water)
-awareness…at least I know what the heck to expect from this course. Last year was a major wake-up call to how difficult the terrain around Prescott is.

So, race report to follow on Monday. I am calm but nervous about the race because I suffered some bad cramps last year. I’m spending more time on mental preparation this time as a result. Physically, it’ll hurt any way you slice it but mentally I’ll be ready to go. The hardest part about this event isn’t even on Saturday. It’s on Sunday. I have to be coherent, and fully functioning on Sunday morning at 7:00am for a full shift at the resort.

Summer travel plans are shaping up…..a 7 day trip to MN in June with Squirty, a surprise trip to ?? in July with D (sorry D….just pack your summer clothes and get in the car – I’m drivin’!), and a huge effort to make it back to Whyskyonsin in August or early September for some fun in the humidity and oppressive heat with this clown and this clown. It would cost me $600 in gas to drive to and from Minnesota this summer. Airfares are around $250 - $300. Remember the days when driving was wayyyyy cheaper and all you had to factor in was the drive time? Anyway, in exchange for my airfare I'll plant a tree or two to offset my carbon footprint. No, I probably won't but didn't that sound really elitist/politically correct/in your face?

On a completely random note, my recently married friend GP said he was worried about the fact that having kids would upset his training and racing schedule. His solution (which was frightening because he had this comedically thought out) is to 'import' a few teenage Cambodians into his household. He'd keep the ones that best assimilated and could show his own child what true hardships are since middle class American kids believe that a "hardship" is when Mom is out of macaroni and cheese - all the while of course serving as nannies so he could train/race/work at his convenience. Then he would euthanize the rest. He's going to hell today.

Public transportation in Flagstaff has become incredibly efficient, while still remaining cheap. If I could just find a job locally, it would be great to ride the bus to work for $8/month. No car/insurance costs means more $$ in my pocket, and I’m reducing my carbon footprint in spite of ‘carbon footprint’ becoming cliché at this point. Of course finding a good job in Flagstaff is like looking for buried treasure with a map you got from a friend of a friend’s Uncle Sal from Poughkipsee, NJ. Good luck.

I have a trip with my Uncle Steve coming up – 36 hours in Las Vegas in early May. Shows, heavy gaming, boozing and strip clubs you ask? Nope. Our favorite activity is riding the city bus from one end of the strip to the other. This is where you get to see the real side of Vegas. Degenerate gamblers saying “If that goddamn pitcher hadn’t thrown a soup can to Ramirez I’d be lookin’ at 3 large right now”. Working class Anglos, African-Americans, Hispanics in uniform on their way to and from service industry jobs. Badly impaired alcoholics panhandling or simply passed out in a seat. It clearly shows me the side of Vegas that everyone who lives there talks about. I haven’t met one person from that town that has said they like it there. It’s always about the cash, and “I’ll be outta here in 3 years at the most”.

Our second favorite activity is playing Air Hockey. Uncle Steve sucks, so I give him a pretty solid prison pounding game after game. Again, I don’t have to worry about him reading this since he couldn’t find a computer in a MAC store, let alone use one.

Third up is a trip to the local outdoor Go Kart track. You pay around $125 to drive a kart that will go 80mph for a half hour. I dig adrenaline rushes, and this is one that I look forward to from the minute I leave the track to the minute I step onto the track again. Thumbshifters, incredible G-forces, blistering acceleration, and you can’t get hurt unless you have no regard for safety.

Finally, we round the weekend out with $2 and $5 blackjack making an occasional stroll through the High Roller section to see what it’s like to lose the equivalent of a bike, a house payment, your wardrobe (your wardrobe, not mine), or a deposit on a 40’ boat in one hand. The most I could lose on one hand is a bus ticket.

Of course, as my buddy Marko says "You gotta bet big to win big".

We have some pretty wealthy investor/owners here at work. One long-time investor, a 73 year old self-made millionaire who rose from dirt to a semi-tycoon called me yesterday to talk about putting some $$ into his house. Time to upgrade, do some nice things, in short - make it a more coveted unit so he can ultimately increase his rental income. After that conversation was over, he proceeded to tell me about his car collection. A limited edition Shelby Cobra, "several" Mercedes AMG's, the proverbial baller Bentley, and a 1970 Ford Pickup....mint condition of course. Then he said he stumbled into a Chevy dealership with a friend a few months back and saw the new Corvettes. A couple hours later he walked out with a red and a black one. Then he said to me, in a very rehearsed manner:

"Mercedes cars, they sure are fun
But I got two Corvette's for the price of one"

I guess his AMG's cost around $130K. That's what his 72 year old wife drives. I can't even imagine the level of discretionary income that he has. I've seen a check that he wrote for $987,000 to cover the cost of a commercial piece of land here. Wow. So, I thought I'd come up with a very rehearsed mantra to spew in his honor:

"Microbrew pints for four ninety nine?
I got two Tecate's for a buck ninety nine"

Squirty's school play was this afternoon, and she played a bluebird for the story Peter Rabbit. It was a bit part by Hollywood standards - 2 lines. I feel for her teacher. They had been working on this play for weeks, and the 15 minutes it took to pull it off seemed almost unfair to the teachers. They loved it though. I did too.

Leaving work at 1:30pm for the play meant I had the afternoon to hammer myself into the ground. I met Chris W. at his house and we hit it hard once up to the ski resort on our road bikes. He got me by a minute as I couldn't keep up when he threw it down from mile 2-3. 6 miles to the top and I was getting that lung burning cough that I covet - that means you worked hard. We joked at the top about puking, but instead ripped down where we stumbled across Gary. Chris W. went home and I went up to the top again with Gary. He was cool with a mellow pace since I had maxed out before. Down and back into town totaled 3 hours of riding for me. Hot tub soak, 2 burritos, a 24oz Tecate, and a pint of Haagen Dazs yogurt.

The Small Town D-Bags are registered for the 24 hours of Moab.....we need one more volunteer for the fun......anyone.....Bueller.....

Good thing I don't have a TV or I would have thrown a brick through it. The Twins gave another game to the Tigers and the Stars tanked against the Ducks.

Random Shots on Tuesday

Cindy McCain is lookin' snarky on the cover of USA Today. 18 years younger than Cactus John, worth over 100 Mil - she puts the N in Nordstrom doesn't she?

Obama brilliantly captured the essence of the war in Iraq right now....The reason we are still there is because El Presidente Bush has an agenda to resolve with Iran before he leaves office. Iraq is about as secure and "stable" as its gonna get - time to go. What's next? There's WMD in Iran?

I opened Lyza's X-Box last night - the one I got on E-bay for $20 - just to test it out and make sure everything worked. 45minutes later after two games of FIFA soccer I pulled the crack pipe outta my mouth. ADDICTING is a mild word for my feelings about sports video games. LOSER would be better. I think I'm going to just put it up for sale again on E-bay and see if I can double my money.

Quote of the Day:
Gino Castignoli is the guy who dropped the Red Sox jersey in the cement piling at the new Yankee Stadium. After hearing that Hank Steinbrenner wanted someone to "kick the s-- out of him," Castignoli replied, "Tell Hank he can come meet me if he wants to try - and tell him to bring [catcher Jorge] Posada, because he's the one Yankee I can't stand."

Destination Gallup, NM

We rolled in at dusk on Friday, and it was just damn cold. When you really look at the vegetation that surrounds Gallup, you realize why it is a wasteland – I mean what can grow in a climate that has 40+ degree daily temperature fluctuations nearly 300 days a year? After a few greetings and jokes with some other Flagstaff riders, we crawled into our bags – inside the Subaru – for probably the coldest night I can remember car camping. The low was 12. I woke up at 6am cramped, sore, and excited about the fact that I was getting out of “bed”.

Quick change into the cycling costume, with layers of gear so I didn’t freeze. The gun went off at 7:00 sharp with a quick decent to a relatively easy uphill grade on a 5 mile road to spread everyone out. I was quickly off the lead group, and into the pack – slipping – slipping back until I could no longer see the leaders. I kind of settled into a groove of mediocrity that seemed to match both my mad skillz and numb and somewhat disinterested mental state for the day. Once we hit the singletrack, nobody was passing me, and I was passing those ultra-endurance big bottomed girls and slower dudes who went out a little too hard on the fire road – a bad warm up in these temps took its toll on a lot of riders.

I rode 26 miles at a steady effort, took a break for 10 minutes to shed to cold weather gear and get some breakfast down the hatch, then rode two more 13 mile loops and called it a day after about 4 laps totaling 5 hours and 15 minutes. My bottom bracket was clunking, but still working – but mentally I just wasn’t having a ton of fun on that bike. I was about an hour and 45 minutes faster than last year over the same distance. Last year was on a single speed and this year I brought the gears and full suspension. That was the difference, more so than a moderate improvement in fitness. I never felt great, and I didn’t feel like I really accomplished anything by riding less than 6 hours of a 12 hour event. Then again, all I really wanted was 52 miles at a good pace since that matches the distance of my next event in two weeks. D was waiting patiently at the camp supporting everyone from our team, and it was nice to take some time and hang with her in the afternoon as the rest of our teammates wrapped their races up at random times. Most finished with 5-6 laps taking anywhere from 6-9 hours to complete them. Our dynamic duo (Gary and Kristen) won the Co-Ed Duo category beating out THE Trek legend Travis Brown and his wife by a lap. Pretty damn impressive for the two fastest racers on our team.

Bin . ger. cis . ing: –verb (used with object)

-to put through exercises, or forms of practice or exertion, designed to train, develop, condition, or the like: to exercise a horse.
-can be forms of eating, drinking, working, exercising, etc...beyond unhealthy - bordering on pathetic

I binge work, binge play, and am having a hell of a time finding a happy medium. It has been GREAT having D back for 2 weeks - and eventhough I have continued by bingeful ways, I at least know I have the opportunity to balance things out a bit.

I'm not working tomorrow; rather, preparing for and driving to Gallup for a 12 hour binge-fest bike ride. Maybe taking 3 days off this week will be good for me from a rest perspective, but I still feel behind in my preparation. On a better note - my Crank Bros. order came in today. New pedals, new cleats, some free schwag and have you seen THESE? Sweeeet.

I bought Lyza's birthday present yesterday - I found an original style X-box on E-bay with 9 sports games for $20 plus shipping. Here B-day is 7/27. Problem is, I want to fire it up tonight and see if she can kick my ass in FIFA soccer. She has 3 video game systems at her Mom's house and she rocks the controller already - so the odds are 5:2 in her favor. I'll go down cheating and swinging if I have to since I'm still bigger and stronger.

Bye - race report to follow on Monday with plenty of photos.

Check these stooges out...

So I take my old Bimmer to the German mechanic to see how much longer I should keep her. 262K on the original engine, but most everything still works. I crashed it once this winter, and drove it off the road another time - resulting in some minor body damage. It was a rough winter.

The receptionist pulls my file at 4pm when I make my way down to pick up the car. She says: "So you wanted to know if you should keep it? Karl says he sure wouldn't....of course, he has 20 cars in the back of the shop to choose from" (then she started backpedaling) "I'm sure it will be fine for you though, you know, I mean it runs, and Karl is really picky". (now she backpedals a little faster). "I mean its not like a 525i is a collectors car since they made a lot of them - Karl would only keep collector cars like old Jags and hard to find Mercedes - that's a nice 525, did you have it repainted?"

Turns out, the engine is fine, but I need new brakes up front and some minor tuning under the hood. I hope to squeeze 350K out of the engine.

So I'm driving home from Target on Saturday with Lyza and her friend Jackson. Lyza says "Jack - do you know what kind of car this is"....he says with out hesitation "It's an old fashioned car". F'n A right it is kid, and it gets 28 to the gallon and has a nice Harmon Kardon factory stereo that still pumps it out.

What's next? Maybe a bubble so they never experience pain?

6 Rides, 9 Days and Carbon Fiber Sounds like a Live Tree Branch When It Breaks

I have no idea how many miles, but I've been fortunate to get in 12 hours of riding - most of it on the single speed which never fails. The Cannondale? Different story...

Coming up a technical trail on Saturday morning, the left side of my Azonic Carbon bar gave way making a crunching sound like a live tree branch under stress, followed by a clean 'snap'. Fortunately I got the hint from the crunching sound and backed off on my effort. I just rode home one handed on some easy singletrack, and was fortunate to be about 500 yards from my front door. Thinking back - about 2 minutes before it happened, I had just cascaded off a 4 foot drop at about 20mph....if it had happened then?! Let's just say I must have used some karma points on Saturday.

It was a nice weekend with the family, and although D and I didn't get a lot of time together, we helped each other out quite a bit with housework, kid time and of course - her great meals!

OK - I'm off this Friday and headed to Gallup NM:
Wife - check
Tent - check
Bike - broken, but hopefully mended it time or I'll be riding a 32 x 18 monocog
Sleeping bag - mine sucks and I'll be stealing D's down bag until she steals it back
Work - whateva'
Temps - 25 at night, and 70 and sunny in the day
Life - good

Greased

A fairly well-to-do 50-something couple rolls into our parking lot with their semi-vintage Saab choking like Hillary's campaign. I say semi-vintage beacuse a Saab really isn't much of a collector car, especially since GM took the reigns a few years back.

Anywhoooo, they were in a controlled frenzy because they needed to get to the airport in Flagstaff in 45 minutes or they would miss a flight. It was slow, so I said "I'll drive ya". Turns out the guys is a hospitality professor at a local college and aside from putting up with his snobby opinions about local restaurants (of course he hadn't been to the dive Thai and Mexican places we frequest), it was a quick drive since we talked the hospitality trade for 25 minutes. His little glasses, tweed jacket, triple-pleated dress slacks - shoot me if I start buying that stuff anytime soon.

So I pull up to the airport and I can tell he's gonna grease me - that's cool - I'm thinking $10 for gas or something of that sort. Rather than just hand me $10, he pulls the ol' slip it into his palm, shake my hand, and then I oblige by blindly taking the cash without looking at the denomination. When do we learn this, and why did this become part of our western culture? Turns out he sported me a $20. Looks like I'm gonna throw $10 in the tank - that's not even 3 gallons right now - and get myself hooked up with a colossal lunch at the Cafe. It's a good Friday.

Here we go again..

I have a 12-hour race in less than 2 weeks and as usual, I feel weak, my legs have no snap, and when I'm riding the single speed it feels like I'm pushing a bulldozer. In reality, I'm probably in a little better shape than I was last year at this time, its just that having a looooong day staring at me on the calendar is just a bit daunting. I'll be riding with gears this year as last year I burned out after 6 hours. The thing that really has me nervous is this Whiskey 50 two weeks later (April 26th). I was left for dead last year with dehydration induced cramps (is there any other kind actually?), and a morale crushing last 15 miles that saw me lose probably 30 places in the standings as I literally stood still on the side of the trail trying to get my muscles to release so I could finish without having a total physical meltdown - or puking from my rotgut stomach that had enough.

Then again, it feels good to have these challenges in front of me. I left the house today at 6:10am and barreled into the woods in 25 or so degree temps. Did I say barrelled? I mean glided, or 'efforted', or 'managed to ride' into the woods. I made all the technical climbs - so I get an A for effort, and felt warm at the top - about 1,000 feet above town. Turned around for the 15 minute drop home and FROZE MY ARSE OFF. The only positive was that the muddy sections were frozen - so no bike maintenance to deal with post ride. A shower, a coffee, and off to work by 9am. I just warmed up and it's 12:30pm.

The Twins are 1-0 and the Tigers are 0-1. At this rate the Twins will have a 162 game lead on teh Tigers come the end o' September. C'mon Fish - let me live that dream for at least the rest of today.

Home tonight for some of D's Black Bean Chili. Yeah baby.....

Sunday, March 30

I got the single speed out today
3 hours of non-stop play
Dry volcanic soil
Wet stream crossings
Mud
A little of that
Snowbanks still linger

Few tracks in the dirt
Not a soul in sight
For a Sunday – this is livin’ right

A lazy afternoon with D
A few errands but
Mostly takin’ it easy

Sunday
Funday

One of the main pluses of having a butch lesbian for a neighbor is the fact that she loves sports. Nancy (name not witheld since she probably won't find this unless I put the proper keywords that she might search for) graduated from the University of Tennessee, and played women's hoops on the varsity team. Looking at her now, you'd never know it, as she is a relatively broken down 50 year old lezbo who spent a lot of time leading Grand Canyon rafting tours in the 80's.

Back to my point....since she loves sports, lives alone, and doesn't work a ton, she decided to invest in what has become for me - the 8th wonder of the world. It's a wall-mounted plasma TV that is big enough for me to name the two teams who are playing any sport.....from my freakin' kitchen which is at least 20 yards from her TV. Let's just say I have been taking extra time to handwash my dishes so I can catch this HiDef masterpiece right in front of my eyes. Holy crap, I would totally buy one of these sets for my house if I didn't have every dollar I make earmarked for vacations, race entry fees, clothes for Lyza, and tuition for D's massage school.

Two doors down from Nancy is an NAU professor who has the only non-secured wi-fi router in the 'hood. I cancelled my internet service and I'm now squatting off of him. I'm diggin' this neighborhood, but it makes me wonder what they are scamming off of me. Has my firewood supply been dropping more than usual? Has my hot tub has been dirtier than normal when I go to re balance the chemicals? I don't even want to think about that.

I have to believe that being a elementary education teacher or a stay at home parent with triplets would have to be two of the toughest jobs out there. The only reason I even say that is because managing kids is like managing 60 year old, set in their ways, grumpy-ass, old men.

On Easter Sunday I attempted to leave work at 2:30pm after 8 hours in the office. Normally, it would be nothing to leave a little early on Easter Sunday. 10 minutes down the road, I'm jammin to some good tunes, sunroof back, 65 degrees as I begin to pull into an Uptown Sedona lot. 29'er in the back seat, cycling gear ready to rip, and I am.........f*cked. The cellie rings and two of my most tenured employees are about to duke it out - at the front desk. Back in the car and back to work.

A meticulously planned 2.5 hour singletrack shredfest was aborted. I diffused the situation, and raced back to Sedona - all for the last 1:15 minutes of daylight. A disc brake mechanical sliced more time off the ride. BUT - I had a brief 20 minutes of bliss where the tires were glued to the trail, and I hit that euphoric zone. It was just enough to get rid of the angst and bitterness from a shitty day gone down down down hill from there.

I know, I know....there are worse things to complain about, and I realize the residents in Somalia are struggling, blah blah, blah blah. In this case I refuse to use downward socialization to tell myself "all you missed is a ride, little Jimmy's Dad in south Jersey lost his job because he came to work drunk and now Timmy...Jimmy, whatever - is hungry. Fu*k you Jimmy, you missed a hapy meal and a plastic Hamburgler Doll, but I MISSED A RIDE. I missed a primo chance to ride, I was feeling strong, and the trails were near perfect velcro.

Today sucked ass too. Sh&tty meeting (why the hell am I covering up expletives, it's not like a 4th grader is doing a report on blogs and he's reading this piece of shit)....crappy afternoon, the brakes on my car are for shit, and my cell phone is dead and I left the goddamn charger cord in Tucson and the damn Fed Ex dude didn't show up with it today.

So let's recap:
Worked the holiday weekend and had two employees go postal
I missed a bike ride
Shitty meeting today
Dead cell phone
I don't feel like riding rollers tonight
And my damn college basketball bracket has me in Dead F'n Last - and I'll stay there unless Tennessee wins 4 more games

I completely suck - Little Timmy/Jimmy is hungry and I'm worried about this petty stuff? I think I need a beer(s).

What the?

So the fam and I (Lyza and D), head over to a bustling new phenomenon in south Scottsdale, AZ for dinner. A restaurant called "Green". I absolutely, positively had a vision of a trendy, indoor-outdoor restaurant that offered vegetarian and vegan food to a cross cultural smattering of customers a la the Mandalay Tea Room in Old Town Scottsdale - one of my favorite, yet overpriced restaurants in the state.

Nope.

"Green" was engulfed with 20-something whitebread college kids who were lined up like people trying to get into a bathroom at an Ohio State football game. "Green" offered 20 different samplings or so of fake meat dishes. Po' boy "steak" sandwiches, "chicken" wings, "pepperoni" pizzas - you name the fake meat, and it was clear and present on the menu. For a moment I thought, "hey - this is pretty cool that all these kids are trying to eat healthy", but then my 50 IQ lurched forth the realization that it's pretty trendy to not only ingest this stuff, but to also talk about it - and tell people how healthy you eat. "Green" has it dialed in because they have a low rent location, low overhead with vegan barfood items, no liquor liability, and they crank out the food quickly - at a cheap price. Call me crazy, but the best vegetarian/vegan food I have had involves - DING! - vegetables!

Remember a couple years back when you'd be getting gas at some random place, and a carload of wanna-be hippie kids would roll into the gas station.....dreadlocks, dirty, asking for change - yet - whipping out a debit card to fill up the Saab 9-3 that they were driving? "Green" had that same kind of poser atmosphere. I used to love telling those pseudo-hippies to "get a job" - and then I would get a lecture about how corporate America is ruining this nation and that they were trying to start a counterculture movement. Good luck with that.

I just took a call from a guest who inquired about the fireplace in his house:
Guest: "Is the wood free"
Me: "Yes - help yourself"
Guest: "What do I do to get this thing going?"
Me: "Light the firestarter block below the grate and the kindling will catch fire - then add logs as you please"
Guest: "That's it?"
Me: "That's it"
Guest: "When you're done, how do you turn it off - where's the switch?"

He was seriously bummed that he couldn't turn the fire OFF - like a gas fireplace. I checked his car, and he drives a Mercedes 600SL - the V-12 engine with all that and a bag of chips. He must be used to controlling things.

Add this to the current Hall of Fame questions like:
Guest on Mackinac Island: "So, when does the bridge swing over to the island?"
Guest at Enchantment: "What color do the red rocks become in the winter?"

the warm spell of weather evaporated this past weekend, and although things are looking good again soon, all I could think about was going back to Hawaii.

heavy sulfur smell, territorial locals, stink eye from the punks at the public beaches, ridiculously expensive everything except for local fruits and veggies.....yeah, I miss that.

I'm of to Tucson for 2 days this week as I have to work Easter Weekend. That'll mean some good time with the South Side family, 80 degree days, and a climb up Mount Lemmon simply because it's one of the better climbs in the state. Mt. Graham is still the penultimate uphill slog in the state, but Lemmon is right up there in the top 3 or 4. The goal will be to climb it in around 2 hours. I just got my Singlespeed Rig back from the shop....wheels true, fork rebuilt, new drivetrain, washed and ready to rip all for the beautiful price of Cost + 10%. Thank you Red Rock Racing and Cosmic Cycles for the love.

Here is the newest San Francisco Giants fan - strictly because of the super cool logo, at least for now. She went to a Spring Training game in Scottsdale and was more about the hot dogs, and snacks but she had a good time.

Any day in the saddle is better than being at work, and that is true about 99% of the time. Last Thursday...not so much. I was heading down a steep slickrock/rocky section in Sedona, and caught my front tire in a crevasse - throwing me over the bars and into the rocks. Adrenaline put me back on the bike in about 10 seconds, and off down the trail. Once that adrenaline wore off, I found a finger that was missing about six layers of skin at the tip, and a shin that had about a 6" by 6" strawberry scuff. I went back and rode the drop again just to be sure that it wasn't me aging, and I made it the second time around. I love mountian biking - you get your ass handed to you just enough to keep yourself honest and realistic about your ability and your potential.

Well it's tournament time - Last year I correctly picked Florida to win it all, but I got second in a pool because of some first round speculative picks that went bad. First place won $400, second place won $50. Bummer. I haven't seen one game all season except for a live performance by the Golden Gophers and the Hoosiers in Minnesota last winter. I'll have to throw my bracket against a wall and see what sticks again this year. It'll be pure luck if I do well.

No riding today- - just work. Livin' the American Dream, right?

If I could be so eloquent with my words, well, I'd be Glenn Beck. Check this column out.....brilliant, bloddy brilliant:

What do these stories all have in common?

A woman who says she lost more $1 million gambling in Atlantic City sues some casinos for $20 million, claiming they should've stopped her compulsive gambling.

People who bought houses they couldn't afford with loans they didn't understand want their lenders to change the terms.

Congress authorizes a war and then tries everything it can think of to get out of it.

Our country gets addicted to oil and then blames OPEC when it doesn't like the price.

These stories prove how personal responsibility has all but vanished in America, and our government is leading the way.

Remember the kid from that interminable 1980s commercial whose father caught him using drugs? The father incredulously asked, "Who taught you how to do this stuff?" and the kid responded, "You, alright? I learned it by watching you." Well, we are that kid and our government is that drug-using father who doesn't think that anyone notices his bad habits.
Our government is leading us by example, and I don't mean that in a good way. For years, it has spent us into oblivion, mortgaging our future for programs we can't afford, and Americans have happily followed suit, running up credit card bills and home equity loans for things they never should've bought. Unfortunately, we're also learning something else from our government: how to avoid taking responsibility for our actions. From Eliot Spitzer's alleged hooker craze to the revelation that Arnold Schwarzenegger commutes to work in a large private jet even as he preaches the dangers of carbon dioxide emissions, there's never been a shortage of "do what I say, not what I do" hypocrites in politics.

But that same attitude has seemingly spread from individual politicians to an entire party.
Democrats aren't happy that delegates from Florida and Michigan won't be seated at the national convention because those states broke clear party rules. Well you know what? Too bad. We don't say that enough anymore. Too bad. You agreed to the rules; you broke them. Now you've got to deal with the consequences.

"But Glenn. ... Neither Hillary Clinton nor Barack Obama will have enough delegates to win the nomination. We don't want this to be decided in some backroom by superdelegates."Too bad.

"But Glenn. ... You don't understand. If we don't seat delegates from those states now, then we might lose their votes in the general election." Too bad.

"But Glenn. .... The voters in these states are going to be disenfranchised if we don't let their voices be heard." Too bad.

If you want to talk about disenfranchised voters, then let's talk about why just 17 percent of Americans have a positive view of Congress. Let's talk about why we still have wide open borders despite most Americans wanting them sealed. Let's talk about why we keep selling out our sovereignty and our security by borrowing billions of dollars from-less-than friendly countries, such as China. Americans aren't disenfranchised because our leaders won't count votes in a couple of states. They're disenfranchised because our leaders aren't doing their jobs. They're disenfranchised because after working hard to support their families and to raise kids who understand the difference between right and wrong, their leaders do exactly the opposite.
In the cases of Florida and Michigan, I've patiently listened to all the moving arguments about why there should be a "do-over," but quite honestly, they're not arguments at all. They're excuses. If this race wasn't so close, or if these states offered a combined 36 delegates instead of 366, do you really think anyone would care? Of course not.

But no matter what you think should happen, you have to admit that Clinton's idea that we should simply count her "wins" in Florida and Michigan is completely ridiculous. In fact, if you played a rimshot and a laugh track behind her every time she recited that line, people might actually agree to a two-drink minimum to see her speak. How could you possibly count the results from an election when your main opponent wasn't even on the ballot (at least in Michigan)? You can't -- unless you think the rules are simply there for your own amusement.
Last year, when the punishment against Florida was first approved, Donna Brazile, a member of the Democratic National Committee rules panel, said she hoped that the harsh consequences would "send a message to everybody in Florida that we are going to follow the rules." And Brazile knows a little something about that ... she ran Vice President Al Gore's presidential campaign in 2000. Voters in Florida and Michigan should ask themselves one important question before they blindly follow their party: Why did no one seem to care about "alienating" them last year when the rules were intentionally broken? It's only now, when their vote really matters, that everyone is suddenly so concerned about "enfranchising" them. Florida and Michigan have a golden opportunity to stand up and say enough is enough, to send a message that it's time to not only take responsibility for their actions but for those of our leaders as well.
After all, what would it say about personal responsibility in this country if we allow the two states that broke all the rules to end up having the biggest say of all?

f*ck yeah - well said. Have a good weekend everyone!

Spring Break

is upon us here at work. The families are starting to roll in, and the hijinks on the canyon road to our resort are just beginning. Tanned collegians hanging out of Jeeps - one with a sign that said "Will work for drinks". Original.

My spring breaks at NAU were pretty tame because I always had a girlfriend, and I never had any money. Except for one year. Me and T-Bone took off for Tijuana in my oh so, well not really at all sweet Mazda 626. Drivin' across the desert at night, listenin' to Bobby Brown, Book of Love, Tone Loc, yeah....good stuff. We arrived in San Diego early the next morning, and we went to grab a cheap room since we were pretty tired from the drive. TOTAL no-tel Motel in town - so far from Mission Beach that the only chicks we were hanging with were homeless or toothless or both. Up early the next day and down to TJ. I remember crossing the border with $40 in my wallet which I was told would go a looong way. We parked at the border and took a cab into town.

The stench, the decrepit buildings behind the facades, the offers to 'meet pretty ladies', and the countless dudes who were trying to get us to go down into basements for a little 'action'. I ended up getting fleeced for an "eelskin" wallet - it was really rare according to Jorge. $12. SOLD. We were so scared to eat the food so we went to a Denny's and acually ordered hamburgers - you know that meat was fresh off the pavement in the form of a dog about an hour before we ate it. The bill was $19. I spent the rest on Tecate and forgot we needed a ride back to the border. We scraped together $4 or so and I arrived back in the states with a stomach ache, a buzz, and a sweet new wallet.

1 day later we were at Mission Beach, where we should have been instead of Tijuana. I don't remember scoring with any Cali beauties, but I do remember body surfing in some 4' surf that was a blast. Even back then I was more into the adrenaline stuff more than the chix.

10 days later, the Eel was wearing off the wallet and I was left with vinyl. I kept it out of spite and stubborness for 9 months. Spring Break 1987 - Woo Hoo Party!

Well for the first time in a year I have decided to get back into strengthening exercises. Not at the gym mind you - if I had to go there I wouldn't go. My garage is the best spot for this. I have nothing to say other than after 2 workouts, I'm sore - and it'll get worse tomorrow. Navy Seals say "pain is weakness leaving the body". I've accepted that mantra, drunk the Kool-Aid....whatever you want to call it. I can ride a bike pretty fast, but don't ask me to move your apartment because I'm WEAK!

Lyza's last B-ball game is tomorrow. I'm kind of bummed as she has really taken to the sport. Soccer starts in 3 weeks and her coach is typing this post. It's a good time, and its a lot of fun to see the kids - even the rotten little sh*ts - get better. I've decided that it was a good thing I had a kid, because I can't stand everyone else's kids....well, I take that back, there are a few that I like - but I could have easily been that surly, jerk-off neighbor who keeps the neighborhood kids football when it goes into my yard. Now - I'm pretty much immune to the crazy stuff kids do.

Waived Off and a sad Conspiracy Theory....

So I'm at one of the 5,000 humongous grocery stores in Phoenix last Saturday night picking up the cherry for my Saturday night sundae. That would be a 24oz can of MGD to go with a football size veggie burrito and the movie Michel Clayton from good ol' Blockbuster. So I walk up to one of those self-pay stations, and it immediately says "SHOW ID TO CASHIER" after I scan that fine can of brew. I bust out the wallet, head towards the dude who is barely 21 himself and I get all of 20 feet from him and he waives me off and says "you're cool - I know you're of age". I look at Dana - she shrugs her shoulders and says "it's the gray hair on the side of your head". F*ck....I got waived off from 20 feet away. What - now do I go get a Volvo with a custom plate that says 'SETTLED'?

The movie was great, the burrito was good, and the beer did its job.

So last week I hear that Patrick Swayze has pancreatic cancer. It's probably the most aggressive form of cancer on the planet - or at least it has the potential to be. THEN, I learn that Jeff Healy died of cancer last week. Both of these guys were in one of my favorite movies, Road House. I'm tellin' you right now, if Swayze dies from this, I'll have a short vigil. Who was a bigger icon that Swayze in the late 80's and early 90's? Dirty Dancing, Ghost, Point Break - HUGE grossing films, and one huge movie star. My pal Sheck and I have been threatening for years to print T-shirts that say: Crazy for Swayze I think it may be time to do this. Getting back to the conspiracy theory - everyone that died in the movie Road House is alive today. Everyone that lived in the movie is dead except for Swayze. OK - so that might be a generalization, but it seems that way. Ben Gazzara, alive and well.....the dude who had his heart ripped out, probably selling TCBY yogurt in a strip mall in Troy, MI. I hope Swayze survives this cancer. Afterall, I named our dog after his character in Point Break - Bodhi.

4.5 hours of riding Friday -Sunday. I broke out the singlespeed for the first time since November, and by Sunday I was feeling strong and used to it again - but tired. Riding the desert courses in Phoenix makes me feel like superman because the low elevation is a huge advantage. There's something therapeutic about that singlespeed bike. No excuses, no free lunch, and you better just think like a caveman and pedal hard when the trail goes up, and rest up a bit when the trail goes down, and stay on the gas on the flats otherwise some guy on gears will catch you.

It's been 2 1/2 weeks since Old Pueblo, and I just packed Josh's bike up tonight. I still have a tent to clean, and some cookware to soak in 200 degree water for a month before I attempt to scrub it. I don't watch TV, I have a small house to keep up, and a job that usually requires 40 hours a week and I can't seem to find time to get this stuff done. I'm lucky to get 7 hours of sleep a night - so where does all the time go?

For one, I lose 1:15 minutes commuting every day. I would love to find a job in town, get rid of one car, and commute on THIS.

I'm committed to my current gig through 2010, but I'm keeping my eyes open in the meantime. Oh look, another 11 minutes writing in this blog - that's where all the time goes.

With a streak of several consecutive predictions,

I’m beginning to think I should be placing bets on primaries/caucuses instead of football. Hillary stepped up and kicked Obama to the curb in Ohio, and she will surely carry that mo’ into Pennsylvania which is basically Ohio with hills – a blue collar state that will care a lot about her pitch regarding economic relief.

Then, what we’ll have is a virtually tied delegate count going into the Dem convention meaning these two heated rivals will be kicking the crap out of each other for four more months while McCain sits back and uses their insults against each other to his advantage. How did this happen? I thought for sure we would have a Democratic Party nominee in the White House come late January 2009. It happened because we have two fiercely competitive and strategic campaigns going head to head with no real shortage of campaign finances. No one is backing down, and neither of these two wants to be Vice President. Governor Bill Richardson – a former candidate – stressed the importance of these two candidates working something out, and not taking this contest all the way to the Dem convention. He is absolutely right about that, even if he’s shamelessly aiming for a VP nod from either candidate.

So here sits McCain with a clinched nomination, and four months to prepare his campaign for the stretch run. How can he lose, especially now that he will have full support from the most evil Republican strategists/marketers out there (minus that fat f*ck Rush Limbaugh – that’s one thing I LOVE about McCain is that the far right fat bastards despise him). I still believe McCain is the only candidate from either party that will make progress on major political issues like Iraq and securing the border, but it still makes me hurl to think of actually voting for a Republican in a general election. I guess I have some soul searching to do, as I agree with McCain on three major issues, and I disagree with him on almost everything else. In the meantime, sit back and watch the Democratic Party eat itself alive with this heated contest. This is truly a great time to be a political activist/observer.

On a more fun note, my entry forms are in for THIS and THIS . I’m counting on a strong month of training in March so I can get revenge particularly at the Whiskey 50 race in Prescott. last year, I bonked with 15 miles to go causing a mental and physical breakdown that I had never experienced before. Harsh hamstring cramps, losing 35 places in a matter of 45 minutes up a 10% dirt grade, and not even being able to ride back to where we were staying after the race - a simple 2 mile ride on pavement. In short – total exhaustion after 5.25 hours and 50 miles. I'm comin' back for more abuse this time, and I hope to finish in a sub 5 hour time.

Kenny’s birthday party was nothing short of a You Tube video waiting to explode across the internet, combined with a Jill Scott song about a family reunion. That family is tight, and you have to be impressed with the support they give each other. If you’re lucky enough to be in the Buckland inner circle, that’s about as close as you get to mafia in this state. Then you factor in the 10+ cops that were there. They all had an uptight feel to them, as their boss – the guy turning 40 that is, Kenny, couldn’t party too hard with them around. I got the feeling that if everyone had been a little looser, like if this had been a 4th of July party or something then all the cops would have let their flat tops down and started playing drinking games and tazering each other.

½ way through, Kenny’s little brother Brent and a friend started wrestling on the lawn. Brent is a black belt in Judo, and although he’s pretty beat up and broken down now from construction – he put this dude into an arm bar and got the tap out. Nothing like a little backyard wrestling at a birthday party for a 40-year old. I stayed the hell away, as Kenny, Brent, and Kenny’s sister Dawn are all blackbelts – I’ve been judo thrown before and I ain’t goin’ there again.

As we sat by the fire and BS’d for a while about this and that, I realized that this night wasn’t gonna’ end early. I started pacing myself with the beer around 10:00pm, and after I realized I was drinking keg Budweiser, I REALLY started pacing myself as I finally knew why the beer tasted funny. Kenny was drinking 19oz glasses of wine like they were Kool-Aid, and then he decided to pop some Cialis as kind of a joke. He’d received some sample packets as gag-gifts from his sister. Well no joke, within ½ hour he was racing upstairs to find his wife and since that stuff is good for 36 hours…….

I woke up to the sound of Kenny puking in his bathroom. Kenny’s a power puker too – he screams when he hurls. Good God….nothing like spending time with family. It was great seeing Mark/Carrie, A-man and Meador.

OUT of there on Sunday morning to spend the day with Dana. My allergies flared up and it was pretty much miserable – even though the sun was out and it was 75+. I did manage to ride for a couple of hours this weekend. Up at 4:45am and back to work by 8:00am this morning in Sedona. I'm a corporate whore.