Thursday, June 25, 2009

Back to real life

I'm sure your all tired of looking at my ass in assos....What follows is about all I could manage in this run down, abused bike racers state of mind.

I had the good intention of posting this about two weeks ago after returning from the Elkhorn Classic, a fun little stage race in the hidden gem of a mountain town called, Baker City. However, I've been a bit blah, expired, flat, deflated, basically combine all that in a blender and drink it with straw extracted from the trash receptacle of your local waffle house. Don't have a waffle house? Well, if your ever traveling through Arizona in the twilight hours, sleep deprived and craving the nastiest resemblance to food that could possible be concocted, then the waffle house is your place. Oh, I forgot to tell you "keep a soft spot in your heart for that sweet little 65 year old meth head," she's missing most of her front teeth. The remaining teeth, clinging tenaciously to their sockets, resemble craters of the moon dripping with sulfuric acid. She actually was cute, in a very poor representation of humanity sort of way. Quite sad but if you can imagine all that, then you know how I feel.

Now that I've "been" home from the elkhorn classic for a couple weeks and I'm done trudging through the blah-ness, I have finished the chore of revising and updating this post to reflect my current state while still portraying the way I previously felt. Make sense? I didn't thinks so.......Any rateI was falling like an unripened, worm infested apple, but now that little rotten apple is being transformed into fresh pressed apple cider......In the not so distant past, when I was a falling apple I felt gravity ripping at my skin beckoning my soul into the dismal puddle of daily routine. Collecting pieces of my scattered life, like a blind man searching for fire ants, I drug my way out of the bi-polar wave that is bike racing. I know I keep jumping from past to present tense, but who cares, if its not entertaining then don't read it. The ups and downs have been about as graceful as a mad cow riding a skate board. Galloping like a four legged rocket up an imposing mountain pass, the bovine drags its voluminous balls tearing off chunks of skin and flesh as they're caught in the cracks and crevices of the rough road of life. Eventually after vicious moments of intense focus and excruciating effort a moment of weightlessness is attained. The summit......whew....I worked so hard.......concentrated and focused with all my might. In this fickle moment gravity is momentarily subdued, and consequently my skin is forever lost. Shortly after the endorphins start to fade, a peaceful reflection begins......and then.....the cow dives, nose first, picking his way down a pot hole and gravel strewn descent. Exponentially gaining speed, blind folded with one hoof tied to its tail, it shrieks as its orderly single focus mind is strewn into scattered mosaic of lost reality.

If you made it through that then maybe you have an insight as to what its like to be a cat one bike racer or maybe you just think I'm a bit strange.

In in effort to please my most diligent and faithful Reader, (I won't mention his name, however, he frequently comments on my posts), I'd like to give a big fat.....................

Bo0!ya!..........I care about the needs of each and every one of you, some more than others. I also understand some of yall are lexicographically impaired and visually inept. You have demanded more imagery of the photographic sort. From here forward I hope to satiate the thirst of your fledgling cerebral synapse's and saturate the theater of your imagination, assuaging your lacking inability to piece together the puzzles of my run on sentences. Where I fail to paint a clear picture, I hope with the most sanguine of intentions that my photographs pacify your needs.

Woody.........that little bit is dedicated with love to you.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Hopefully all eyes that read this will realize I didn't take these photos with a straight face. They are meant to be Humorous and I am a little bit embarrassed, but who cares. Yes, I know I'm a dork and I'm a little vain, but the only thing serious about this post is that I love Assos. A few reasons for this post are as follows:

I wanted to express how I feel about Assos bibs.

My girlfriend is out of town...and I'm not racing today....I've drunk to much coffee.

To top it all off I was curious as to how my ass looked in my Assos shorts.

Ya know I spend a lot of time, while racing, starring at dudes asses. I'm not super thrilled about it but its sort of impossible not to when your stuck in the middle of the pel0ton fighting for position and trying to get a draft from the rider in front of you. Unless you're off the front your starring at some monkey's ass in Lycra.. On occasion I have been stuck behind completely worn out, shredded shorts. Shorts that are more transparent than the windshield of my car. At least once I've prayed that salty sweat from my helmet would drench my tainted eyes and blind me from this pro wankers exposed crack. With a little luck a touch of the tire would send me flying into the ditch where I could cleanse my cornea with gravely cow shit and swamp water. I wish I would have considered this before leaving the pristine jagged granite peaks and snowfields of my mountaineering days. Bye the way, you'all can thank me for wearing my new assos instead of the see through shorts described above. Your welcome.

....Here Is my ass in Assos...and yes in the sake of vanity...I'm flexing...... !

I've also included a frontal view for those of you interested.......I do love these shorts!

ASSOS........... If you get a pair of Assos than you will end up throwing away every other brand of bib short that you own. After your first ride you will punch yourself in the gut 42 times and curse yourself out at the top of your lungs until your voice goes horse and you pass out. Its OK! You deserve It!....How many miles have you pounded out in sub-par chamois, punishing your precious undercarriage? Saddle sores and callouses erupting one after another like road rage on you bottom. Why did you not get a pair sooner?
Eight months ago I knew nothing about Assos. I'd seen them in Velo News adds and that's about it. Most of the time there was a half naked Euro dude flexing like our famous Austrian Governor, (the terminator), while straddling an invisible bike. This did not make me want to buy Assos. For the record Assos cares nothing about trendy hype or what is cool....They walk their own path creating products that they feel are simply the best. The add makes more sense when you put this into perspective. Its a little weird and completely an Assos theme. Assos doesn't follow trends. Most of their products haven't' changed in years and are still more comfortable and last longer than anyone else's. They have a cult like following. Its like a secret club. You buy one pair of shorts and you're hooked for life.
I was given my first set of Assos shorts eight months ago. Lucky me, Chad gifted a pair of 200.00 Uno's, a jersey, arm warmers and skin web socks. I thought to myself "Chads a great and generous person ," but then after wearing the Assos bibs on my first ride, I realized He's an absolute jerk. He killed the days of cheap shorts. I will now have to refinance my house to buy more shorts......I've been totally happy riding poorly constructed $100.00 or less bibs for the entirety of my life on two wheels. Once when I was a bit younger I went on a bike tour traveling 4000 miles in four months toting a pile of steaming youthful ignorance garnished with a orange safety flag and a single pair of non chamois shorts, commando style. What was I thinking? Ouch, ignorance is bliss, but Assos make sense.
I don't know how many miles I've put on my first pair of bibs. I expect it to be in the ball park of 2400 miles, or about 141 hours of use in 8 months. Most shorts only last me about 6 months on a program of about 100- 125 miles per week per short after which they are garbage. You know the see through ass crack style.. My old pair of assos, after 8 months in the rain, sun, mud, and sea salt laden ocean mist have lost a little shine but only compared to my newest pair of assos. After heavy mileage and abuse they are still more comfortable and in better condition than my week old Giorodana team bibs.

Check out this bee sting to the face...about 3 weeks ago during the sprint on the roasters ride....bang......!

I promise I will never post another self portrait of my ass.