Remember the band Extreme? If you don’t then you probably have good taste in music. Since I don’t have good taste in music, their song “Stop the World” keeps popping up in my head. Stop the world, I want to get off. Damn these days are going fast. I’m just L-I-V-I-N the American dream of having a mortgage, a yard to work on, a job, a wife and a kid with a couple of dogs, and I wake up and the week is f*cking done. Here I am 40 years into this life and the next 40 are gonna be SNAP – done.

Lyza’s second grade teacher put the hammer down on her and the rest of her classmates. Two book reports a week, and about 1 hour of homework a night. Some parents at the orientation were nodding their heads in approval, and others looked like they just saw a deer in their headlights. All I know is that I’m happy about the difficulty of work expected from her teacher, but I’m gonna have to buckle down to help Lyza handle the volume. Here we go – real world expectations creeping in. Enjoy your young kids even if you have to beat them from time to time because they act like little sh*ts. It’s all playtime until 2nd grade.

My homeboy Ellsie is competing in the Ultra tough Trans-Rockies race starting on Monday. 6 days. 20 miles of running a day. A ridiculous amount of elevation gain each day as well. He’s ready to roll though, and I have to give him a LOT of credit for balancing training with Honey Do’s, and spending time with his kids. The only thing I question is when he says he gets psyched up for a run by listening to Coldplay. WTF? How about Led Zep? Maybe the Pixies or the Clash? Even Beck can get me going a lot faster than listening to Gwenyth Paltrow’s husband croon and wail. Ellsie – good luck and don’t “DFELLS”.

This weekend will bring on a MTB race for me, painting in our 2nd bathroom, and some down time.

Extreme also sang “There’s a hole in my heart that can only be filled by you”. Barf.

Sunday morning, I was reading several articles by journalists that were either way too caught up in the “Phelpsian” success, or they are on his payroll. Titles like “best achievement ever!”. “Best athlete of all time”! Ok, hold on here. Swimming is no doubt one of the more demanding sports out there. However, every meet and practice takes place in a controlled environment. In short, you don’t deal with weather. I can think of several athletic feats that are astonishing; like the first ascent of Mt. Everest in the 1950’s, Eddy Merckx’ entire cycling career, and Jesse Owens kicking the crap out of Hiter’s Olympics – That’s pressure + athleticism = greatness. My point is that while Phelps is awesome, dominant, and humble - you can’t call him “the greatest”. I still reserve that title for Muhammad Ali.

Sunday afternoon brought on one of those “almost perfect” rides that I usually roll into every couple of years or so. I left the house just as the sky opened up pitchers of water. The storm moved slowly, and I managed to ride out of the rain within a few minutes. Over the river and through the woods I rode in light rain, heavy thunder, and occasional lightning. After climbing to the middle of Rocky Ridge trail, I stopped for a second as about 2 miles and 500 feet below to my left was the blackest cloud of nastiness I have seen in a while covering Flagstaff. Onward, and soon the trail turned muddy – but not “f*ck your bike up” muddy. Over to Schultz Creek, out to the Girlfriend Trails (so named because they are moody (up and down), and then looped back the same way home. Trail? Velcro. Temps? 60 degrees + or -. Anyone out riding? Hell no. Bike? Singlespeed rockin’ at warp speed. It was bliss out there.

I’m closing in on two hours, and I hit the most hellacious mud – Satan’s mud – at Buffalo Park which is about ½ mile from my front door. I thought it had not been raining much there, much to my surprise. This is the kind of black, heinous, sticky beyond belief mud that cakes up on your tires and frame….then you reach a gravel road and all that muck picks up 1,000,000 rocks that trash everything you ever owned. Chain, brakes, brake pads, BB, shoes, kit, you name it – and you’ll be pulling your bike into a goddamn carwash just to get the psi required to get this sh*t off your frame.

Like I said, almost perfect. It gave me a reason to wash the Rig, besides the comment that JB made a couple of weeks back “wash your bike”.

Last Days of Summer

Me and Lyza (that grammar was exclusively for you PBK), took the final two days of her summer break and went camping, swimming in Oak Creek, and then spent what was left of the days getting ready for the 8:00am bus pick up at the corner of Juniper and Turquoise streets. Why work when you can chill with your family? Bodhi went with us on his maiden camping trip and he morphed into this incredibly obedient camp dog who just hung out, swam when necessary, and slept in the tent when we did.

I think I have a bike race in 8 days, and in preparation, I’ve taken the last six days off to ensure that I get plenty of rest before race day. Sounds like a great training plan – and while I’m at it, I’ve been eating everything I see and drinking the occasional Hispanic brewed beverage of choice. Let me know if you want a copy of my training book titled “Slacker Training – One man’s guide to training to just finish”. I’ve actually been training vicariously through the table tennis players, the rowers, the archery dudes, and the little Chinese female weightlifters. I sit at my computer watching the live action online with no commentary until midnight feeling the stress of competing in these sports that get no respect from the mainstream media…..it’s really quite a rush watching Judo. www.nbcolympics.com Check out the tab to the left of sports and click where it says ‘live’. Michael Who? Phelps? Sorry, I’ve been watching badminton for three days.

Mid-August means: 10 ft. tall sunflowers in the yard, my political activist daughter, and D&Bodhi...two peas in a pod.

F*ck...I spend 32 hours in Satan's Lair - aka Phoenix - and I'm wasted and not in a Dazed and Confused way. That city absolutely sucks, and it sucks the life out of this northern boy. Then I roll into Sedona today and set up for a job fair.....we're looking for housekeepers. Sedona: Great place to visit, not a bad place to live, but home of the 57 year old retiree with no motivation to work hard anymore. OR, you get the slacker with a colossal sense of entitlement who is just "looking for the right vibe", and will job hop from month to month. "at the end of the day" only two people wanted to clean rooms. Of course, since about 100 people walked through the door, our 2% conversion ratio feels solid. 100 people over six hours, and about 30 stopped by to chat. I was so bored I was texting like a teenage tramp, just to see how fast I could knock out a 4 word message without a QWERTY. So sorry if you got a random text that said something like:

Wna fk aftr skl?
Cfe t r me?

Like I said, it was a long 6 hours sitting in an Elks Lodge with shitty climate control. I think my brain overheated.

I raced home after making the proverbial stop at work to "check messages". Is that not the dumbest thing to do EVER? All of a sudden you are knee deep in sh*t that you would have never known about and you could have just dealt with the next day. I put out a few fires, and drove home without remembering much of the drive - scary because its 35 minutes long. On the bike and into the woods for 1.5 hours. My buddy Ellsie, who loves to quote Coldplay, Fergie, and Myley Cyrus, said: "Clarity brings serenity". Whatever, I just know that my reset button has been pushed and, well, I'm back.

1.) Why is everything "amazing"? What's next, noun status for this word? The "Teen Choice" awards were on tonight, don't ask why I watched them for 20 minutes, and like, every, like word that was like, used to describe an entertainer was, like, "amazing". "Absolutely" is running a close second.
2.) Brett Favre should be a Viking - just for the opener on 9/4, then Green Bay can have Drama Boy back.
3.) D and I rode up Snowbowl this morning, and the chick threw it down and almost punked me at the line! She's amazing.

Lyza's 2nd grade teacher sent a little postcard reminding her new student class to "practice counting money" along with reading over the summer. We've been doing the reading part......but we just started working on the concept of the good ol' American dolla tonight. The kid is smart enough to know which bill is a "Benjamin", and she practically discards anything less than a quarter because they aren't worth much even at grocery store coin-op gumball machines. It was interesting playing a game of "trade ya". I hand her a $5, $10, or a $20 and offer her a random denomination to see if she can add it up quickly and decide if she wants to trade. Let's just say we have some work to do as I fleeced a $20 off her for a ten and two ones.The sweet Buick Regal with the 24's (that will remind one reader of his glory days) is a Matchbox car she traded from from her pal Nate Dog. She gave up a little Ferrari - so again, we're working on the value of the dollar. We have two weeks before school starts, so I think we can get this thing nailed down.

2/3 of the way through the cycling season, and I'm in a slump. Evidence as follows: I was JRA (just riding along) a few days ago on a rough trail, but on a clean 20 yard section....relaxed the brain for 5 seconds and clipped a pedal on a rock - did a flying Superman into the soft, pine needle covered soil. Covered in dirt, ego fractured - but me, OK. My legs feel all right, but they seem to just have a heaviness to them all the time. I'm taking three days off this week to see if that helps. On a great note, I am developing some love for my new geared bike. Spinning the shorter gears has been welcome relief, but, the flow of a singlespeed you just can't get with gears. I'll keep it fo' sho' through the 24 Hours of Moab in October, and then it will be on E-Bay ready to go to a new home.

I'm thinkin' 'bout racquetball season, and playing all of the characters that make up the local club scene. Motormouth Mike, Punk-Ass Paul, Ken the Snowman, Lefty Mike, and so on.....Maybe I am ready for a change of pace sooner than I thought. The camaraderie at the racquetball court is laid back and competitive at the same time. Some of the guys mix in a few Corona's midway and it becomes a great social outlet as well. I'm usually one of the clowns who brings pre-mixed electrolyte drinks and Lara Bars in place of the Corona, but still - it's fun just to be there.

One race coming up in August. I got 2nd last year in sport, but this year I'm entering the Singlespeed category, and there are 5 guys in town that I'll just never beat over a 30 mile course. Ride for Pride....that sounds like some weak slogan doesn't it.

Flagstaff is a fun-filled freak show downtown on Thursday nights. We sat outside eating trendy Pacific Rim cuisine for cheap $$, and D saw no less than 20 people she knew. Characters like ‘precious’, a dude who was AAA-5 Diamond rated by one of her girlfriends – but he’s got a new girl now, some uptight wives, and a borderline stalker/psycho who drove D nuts at her last job. Throw in the Euro-trash who we…well, trash because of their sense of fashion and hairdo’s, but we love them for their tourist $$, and toss in the screaming kids and barking dogs and it was one loud-ass mercurial concert of international habits and cultural stereotypes. We got on our bikes to ride home and one block out of downtown – it was pitch black and as quiet as it gets.

Up at the crack of smack this morning to ride – 5:30am departure from Chateau Bozzelmann to meet a teammate. NO SHOW. Ahhh well, I still got in a solid hour .5 on some Velcro-like soil as it rained late last night. You hear me complaining about an hour .5 on the bike? Neva. 45 minutes feels great sometimes. I had hoop-like dreams of a 3-hour lung burner with CW but he was sleeping as hard as his kids were.

Lyza the Bean Machine is back tomorrow. Yes! It’s been 3 weeks and I’m crawlin’ the walls not seeing her. A good weekend is on tap – I hope yours rocks the mic.

Shallow thoughts and reality checks

One of the most stand-up guys I have ever met is on the cusp of putting himself in a casket. He’s worked himself to the bone for 30+ years and now he’s facing health problems that none of us would want. He’s one of the most generous guys out there, and he puts everyone else first. He works 14-16 hours per day and sleeps 3-4 hours a night because that’s all he knows. 56 years old and he’s looking at less than five more unless he walks away from the restaurant business……… like yesterday.

When I walked away from the Grand Hotel at age 26 I was 100% convinced that I had just worked as hard as I ever would in my lifetime. Ridiculous hours – occasionally racking up more than 112 per week, never ending stress, rapid weight gain/loss, and in the end – a hernia from physical exertion. And for what? Someone else’s profit margin, and a one way ticket out if the day came when I couldn’t perform anymore. After 4 years, that was it. I walked away and never looked back on the Island and that life.

Thanks to that experience, I seem to have figured out the work thing, and with it, balancing family and my needs pretty well. However there’s a price to pay for everything, and now I’m faced with a cap on my earning potential at a small property which translates to a long term savings account that will pay my expenses until the average life expectancy of a typical American -74 years old. So, I may have today dialed, but tomorrow? As Sammy Hagar says “F*ck tomorrow because tomorrow may not never come”. Sammy the wordsmith…..the fact that I can quote that is frightening and a testament to bad taste in music and not very conservative logic. F*ck it, that's who I am.

Back to my bud….He has a “come to Jesus” meeting with the doctor tomorrow that will surely dictate his short term decision making. Getting an old dog to change his ways will be tough.

Saturday brought on the Taylor House benefit road ride. 95 miles, a great course, and we had fabu weather. 7:00am start, and we were off with a police escort through town. Within 10 miles I was at the back of the lead group of 25 riders. The other 100+ were out of sight behind us. Some of the faster riders in the lead group pulled over for a pee break 1 hour in and I just wasn't ready to make a stop for the call of nature. So I climbed onto the back of some rider from Phoenix and soft pedaled waiting for the fast guys, but then the ineveitable - I did have to stop for a pee break. I'm 1/2 way through my little break and the fast guys come by like a house on fire. Long story short, I tried to catch back on but never got closer than 3 minutes. I rode 50 miles solo, before latching on with Fireman Cory and some other dude. We drilled it back into town and hit the finish at 12:00pm on the dot. 95 miles, 5 hours at an average heart rate of 158, and 5000 calories burned. I'm hungry.

D is out at the Mountain Man Triathlon this morning offering massages to distressed athletes. This is a great event with hundreds of tri-geeks out there hammering away - today its cool and cloudy - optimal conditions for them.

I was walking Jamocha last night in the moonlight which was casting a weird array of shadows across the landmarks of our neighborhood. Nothing jumped out at me, fer crissakes its Flagstaff – the only thing that jumps out at you is the eclectic mix of beaten and beautiful homes, and the sharp disparity between the “have’s” and the “just have enough’s” to stay and play here.

What stood out was the fact that my old girl, Jamocha, is winding it down. She’s almost 12, and you can see every ounce of her age reflected on the outside of her purebred body. She sleeps - a lot; the white fur on her jaw, paws, and eyebrows is slowly replacing the chocolate brown that she was born with. I know she’s OK today though. For she eats her food like she did from the day I got her – like it’s her last meal. We all feel that the day she doesn’t wake up with a voracious appetite is the day I’ll put her down.

I don’t know if this will be her last summer, but it feels like it based on how rudimentary her movements and reactions have become. I’m not ready for her to go because selfishly she’s a symbol of the last 12 years of my life. When I look at her, memories blast through my head like quick movie previews. Jamocha’s “career highlights” include almost dying from a lunch of D-Con rat poison, eating 20 pounds of dog food in an afternoon, three successful surgeries for random wounds, and a near-death experience from dehydration.

It goes without saying that my relationships with D, Lyza, family and friends far exceed any bond I have ever had with an animal. Jamocha though….she has a leash around me right now and I’m cool with that. Whatever that old girl needs – she gets.

Ricco Wins!

I see the top level of my favorite sport as 100% pure entertainment and that's it. There are no heroes, and everything you see that seems impossible - really is. Ricardo Ricco, one of the best climbers in the world tested positive for a sweet new EPO based cocktail - essentially an anemia drug that he probably thought wouldn't be detected.

The deets are here..

That's a big fish that just got caught. When does the biggest fish of all finally get caught? Lance will get ratted out. His time is coming.

Movin’ On -
After nearly two years it was time to step down from the Board of Directors of our little local cycling team. Nobody is being left high and dry, and ‘at the end of the day’ it’s just a social club of people that like to ride. What forced me to wrap up my involvement is the fact that I enjoy riding my bike, a lot….and the politics of even running just a small-town, small-time team have, from time to time, taken their toll on my enjoyment of the sport. I’m not looking for another team, rather, I’m looking for more time to ride and this decision will help me get there.

Keepin It Real -
Coldplay......I keep finding more of their fans.......but they still suck

2 days of "big Business" as one L. Cleary would say when I thought I had a big convention at the Stinkin' Grand Hotel many years ago....I was such a poser with the slicked back hair, an office on "Mahogany Row" and clothes that never fit because I weighed about 160 in the summer season, and 190 in the winter. Yeah - that was a ridiculous lifestyle that would have killed me before I reached 40.

2 days of business meetings at my property just concluded and I'm pretty toasted. So - the ultimate cure is a ride. Quick change into the lycra clown suit, and out into the woods. Flag had about 2 inches of rain this afternoon so everything was wet, but not a quagmire. The soil - always desperate for water - drains quickly so I had sticky trails, and as usual a whole lotta fun. I needed to purge cliches outta my head, Mission Statements were left in the muddy puddles, and our Corporate Culture - - that pretty much took a back seat to what was in front of my face coming down Schultz Creek......a sweet path that does anything but follow a straight line.

The people in our group are genuine, caring, and all take their jobs with the same degree of seriousness that I do. As a team - we do well together when the subject is work. The problem was that the majority of them are borderline raging Republicans. Three of them had crossed party lines in prior elections - so we had a good discussion about the upcoming election. The other six were pretty much convinced that Obama is a Muslim and he'll "bring America to its knees". Wow -I did my best to keep my Apple Pie down seeing as how they were looking at me and wondering how could I even LIKE Apple Pie. I'd already spouted off about how I don't eat Hot Dogs often and that I only like watching the MN Twins and that other baseball games are boring. In fact, if McCarthyism were still around I think I'd have been pegged right there as a liberal commie.

An old friend just tracked me down via this blog on Google and that's scary, because this blog is supposed to be private. I guess if I even think that anything I write and publish on the net is private then I need my head examined. Jenner - keep in touch and get that blog going so I can leave tasteless and completely random comments.

G'night

5:50am out the door
The Rig was my weapon of choice this morning. 4.25 hours of ride time. Then, a one billion calorie burrito from the Burrito Bar, 32oz of a sugar-infested recovery drink (read – Pepsi), 2 liters of water, a bag of trail mix – and I feel fine. The ol’ knees are a bit sore, but that will subside by the time I wake up tomorrow.

I didn’t GPS the ride because I don’t have one. But if I had to guess, it was roughly 35-40 miles, 5,000+ feet of climbing, 20 or so different trails with about 3 miles of doubletrack, and thank you KARMA for no freakin’ mechanicals. One thing I thought about on the ride – a lot - is ‘Mountain bike races feature too many racing categories’.

Here’s my point:
At races, it always cracks me up when amateur racers brag about their class results, when in fact they were 46 minutes, and 156 places behind the top riders on a 15 mile course. Nice job slick, here’s your medal, now go back to your bike shop and demand discounts because you are “sick fast” in the Men’s 19-29, Rigid Single speed Category with 14 other competitors. What the F*ck Eva’. What happened to survival of the fittest? What happened to aspiring to running with the big dogs, but at the end of the race that you just lost by 46 minutes – taking solace in knowing that you are really just another rider who is there because you love to ride. Isn’t that enough? Glory is for the Olympics, not your local race scene.

Maybe people need to be rewarded to stay interested. Maybe race organizers feel that classes are necessary so that groups of people with similarities should compete against each other so that they get the same “experience” that the Pros get. I could be sold on arguments for both of those points to some degree.

I digress, it’s time for the weekend……One Tecate, two Tecate, three Tecate - MORE!

Construction has been going on outside our house beginning at 6:30am for two weeks straight now. Not that I really notice that much since I’ve been out riding by 6:15 and then home later from work in the evening, but…..who the hell invented the beeper for trucks that are backing up? I know it’s a safety issue, but g’damn I think I’m hearing that sound in my sleep now.

Coming up next Monday is a “big business” corporate retreat for our management group – at my resort/hotel. For f*ck’s sake, that means I have to do a sissy little welcome letter, a creative little froo-froo welcome amenity, and undoubtedly somebody attending the event will complain about a lack of air conditioning even though these are fellow employees staying COMP for a mandatory event. Big Steve told me about a good team building event he hosted a few months back, and ours is going to be a ropes course strung across the creek – Tyrolean style. It’s almost cliché the way these retreats are done nowadays: Icebreaker event, followed by diving into an agenda, then a big working lunch, followed by an afternoon team building event. Ahhh well, it could be worse as us Minnesotan’s say.

I’ve morphed into a comfort zone of 3.5 – 5 hours on the bike. I’m trying hard to keep weight on by eating huge lunches so I don’t shrivel up like a skinny roadie in Le Tour de France. Yes, I realize that I could go faster if I dropped 10-15 pounds, but then you’d be calling me Skeletor and I would have zero self-confidence resulting in a horrific slide into depression, alcoholism and undoubtedly a rock bottom crash after intervention. I know that might be fun to watch, but I’m not up for it. Upcoming events are largely unconfirmed as fuel prices and time from work resemble a NASCAR restrictor plate on my decision making, and I despise NASCAR. There is a benefit social ride – 95 mile road ride – for which I was able to get a sponsor to pay my entry fee, plus the ride starts 2 blocks from my front door. I’m trying to arrange carpooling for the remainder of the fall events. Word outta the AZ event organizers mouths is that racing attendance is down 25% and we all know why.

Tomorrow? 4.5 hour ride around the peaks, then work, then home ‘round 9:30pm. Oh, and on the way to work I’m picking up a new to me but used bike I just bought from a local dude. Pics and Deets will be released once I have her tuned and dialed in. Let’s just say it’s the least expensive bike I’ve bought since my first mountain bike – a Paramount 20 which Big Steve will remember. This new/used ride will give me a reason not to skip races since it has gears, a hard tail, and 29” wheels.

Coldplay is the only man-made disaster that matches the Bush Administration with regards to the question: “How the hell are they still around?”. Would somebody post a comment here and educate me as to why Coldplay sells records? I can’t even get my mind around the phenomenon that is Coldplay. I thought their last album buried them underground so deep that they would be playing Bar Mitzvah’s and Casinos for the next 20 years. I have a friend, AJ McShef who professes a love for Coldplay – and I’m considering an intervention to help him through these tough times.

Nothing new here – still working for the man, riding 2 out of every 3 days, and loving the cool temps and afternoon rains in Flagtown. I never did hook up with Skinsuit Tim on Saturday, instead opting for a mountain bike ride in the mud versus riding wet roads. D and I are headed out road riding tomorrow as I get the day off since I worked most of the 4th.

The owner of the restaurant at Junipine said to her 18 year old son: "If you want to drink, go into the woods or something....just don't drive". Not really into camping, she didn't think much of her comment.

This week he showed up with a car full of camping gear and a crew of guys and girls that are heading to Escalante for a 4th of July camping trip. We spotted something unusual in a pocket on one of the packs.....Limes......Limes mean tequila. Have a safe 4th boyz.

Le Tour De France commences tomorrow morning. I know 99.5% of the American public could give a rats ass, but for me, I'm stoked. It finishes just before the Olympics, followed by football season. Could there be a better time for a sportsfan like me???

Leave it to Patrick O'Grady to sum it up for me:

"So I’ll be following Le Tour once again this year, just as I have since I first discovered there was such a thing as the Tour. But not on TV. Signing up for premium cable to watch bike racing is like joining Weight Watchers for the hot chicks."

I get an e-mail yesterday from my teammate RH – one of Flagstaff’s elite level slackers. Late 40’s, working an hourly wage despite his education, and more or less living to ride his bikes. RH represents a measurable but not dominant portion of the population in Flagstaff….cyclists, skiers, and river runners who won’t give up the life for 9-5. I have a lot of respect for these guys in a certain way, but man, at some point when do you look in the mirror and say “I’ve had a great time, but WTF – where did the time go, and how much don’t I have in savings?”

Anyway, RH said he’s heading out on a favorite road ride of ours called the Wupatki loop. 50 miles, a big descent, and a 16 mile climb back up to around 8,000 feet. Bonus – no cars. He also said he is going with “Skinsuit Tim” – he calls him that because he’s the only guy he knows who wears a skinsuit on training rides. I can’t WAIT to see this guy on Saturday. Wupatki is a hot ride – as temps can easily get into the mid 90’s. Who wears a skinsuit on a training ride? I guess Tim does. I’ll get some pics and post them on Monday – I hope he wears a time trial helmet and sports aero bars too on this 81 kilometer time trial with over 4,000 feet of climbing.

Got out again this morning for an hour at sunrise. I wish I could DVR these days and replay them in the winter when the days are short and the trails are covered in snow. Two more days of hard riding, and I’m taking a break on Sunday. I’ll be here tomorrow, but happy 4th to all o’ you who will be playin.

Feelin' it

4 rides in 5 days
My legs are feeling good again,
barely breathin’
Early morning sunrise
Welcome the day
Done before the heat sweeps in

Summer monsoon
Forest floor is damp
Tires cut a swath
I’m on rails
I don’t want to come back

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.