empty promises

Hey all..........thought I'd share a little introspective piece, here it is............... I want to make it clear that my favorite activity as of late is sitting and starring at the wall. It can be quite soothing meandering in an out of the lumpy labyrinth of latex paint and drywall spackel. Between the seams of sheet rock and joint tape my Synapses fire like lead out of a sinking barrel of goat shit. At my current capacity brain activity is as inactive as a post ejaculatory, overweight, 28 year old punk Nintendo playing male with emphysema and high blood pressure. I can't even imagine the person described above ejaculating in the first place, nor do I want to. The simple thought of aerobic activity could send such a person into cardiac arrest or cause a catastrophic explosion of their carotid artery. And the smell.......? The putrid stank of over crisped and scorched partially hydrogenated tempura, that's my brain silly, and I'm drowning in it. A sad state of being if i might say so myself. I think I may have a mild case of dementia ............and if people were concerned of my well being than they should bring me lots of beer, cookies, Pete's coffee, and Kombucha.........or send me to the coo.koo..house!

I will be dragging my melting carcass through the rest of the season and after about 4 more races I promise to get back on the blog wagon......As of late, creativity has been elusive similar to my motivation. The motivation scale in this case is predominantly leaning towards a bottle (Uh? six pack) of beer and a bag of kettle korn, a jar of peanut butter, some chocolate chips, coffee, pizza, and everything bad for me. A vision quest and a cleanse are in order for the off season.

I'll keep you updated, until then............This is my pet chicken. Behind her is the rooster. He's a real cock.

One of these is not like the other.

Taco salad, and no that's not sour cream, it veganaise. Veganaise is like non disgusting mayonnaise. Its made from cold pressed grapeseed oil...........Try it....its no foo foo...creamy and tasty goodness.














Homeade blueberry scones.............Killer..........I made them myself...........with walnuts......can you believe that........good before, during, and after a ride.




















Pink assos six day kit...........priceless.

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.

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.


Peace

This rant is dedicated to endorphin inspired lexigraphical compilation, assos, testosterone(self generated of course)and just a casual update.

I'm fresh off the Roasters Ride. Marin's infamous battle ground where riders gather every weekend sporting their convolutedly colorful team spandex whilst burgeoneing with the lateset and greatest hecho in china plastic pride. An ungainly organized mass, we meander awkwardly down the asphalt while glares of death and impatient honk missiles are viciously spewed from the throat of the traffic monsters. We head out of town, away from the gas demons, gaining inertia in anticipation of the slaughter fest to come. Egos begin dancing like little fairy's, giddy and impatient. They hide their determined eyes in the depths of dark sunglasses and prepare to throw testosterone bombs in each others face. An act of eliminating a week of pooling hormones and pent up stress. Each rider, fully embraced in the moment of an epic duel to either blow ones self to pieces or destroy the fragile bonds of tenacious pride that cause each and every rider to endure cataclysmic suffering. It is a rabid, brutal, and savage ride. Unlike a race, we don't use strategy, we don't help each other. The goal or at least mine is to slay egos, bury them, suffer like this its my last moment. Its not a stage race, I don't have to finish. Just suffer so that next time I'm racing I have something to relate to and the hurt-box becomes a welcome comfort.

I haven't raced since the Gila....I even took 7 consecutive days off...and by that I mean on the couch off. I felt fat and lost. Penny less in ambition and pocketbook. Then two weeks of base training....a 12 min time trial, 30 min of tempo....more zone 2.....Boring...I needed to get out and cause pain, at least to myself. Warning! TANGENT approaching. In the simple polar terms of comfort and discomfort, I don't think its a good idea to forget how to suffer. Comfort to me is boring, and boredom leaves me in an unoccupied, directionless existence perpetually seeking more comfort...Guess what? Look around you...America is comfortable. America is boring, expressionless, lazy, and lifeless. Comfort belongs in a pair bib shorts...It belongs to Assos. If your able to be active, take advantage of it, embrace it, suffer on your own level, have fun, push the boundaries of your comfort. You might be amazed at what lies beyond. There are people in this world that don't get a chance to live comfortably. Human beings that live in a hole in the ground and get shit on by the rest of the world. Do them a favor and Don't invest in the numbing comfort of America...get out and experience the vibrance of the world you live in.

OK, back to today's ride.......i promise no more tangents.

I got my chance to be uncomfortable this morning and push my comfort zone. I unleashed a seismic explosion on the poor age groupers and cat 2/3/4/5 riders. I let them have it. Every time I attacked they just let me go... I pulled the entire group into the sprint at Nicasio and then turned the screws until they gave up. I left them to ponder the forces of continental drift while I took the sprint in Point Reyes, and the KOM at Olema. Finally I rode away into a false flat, towing one brave rider pegged at his limit. The likes of 20 riders couldn't catch me with 10k to go. Solo in your face...maybe next time...except I'm getting board and its time for the second half of the season. I'm going racing. I've outgrown this pond.

Still sitting here in my new pair of Assos bibs. Good thing they are intended for all day comfort....the only bibs I would ever spend my money on. The only company that doesn't build their shorts around materialistic image based marketing....They build marketing around the shorts....the shorts sell themselves as the most comfortable, most durable, best functioning shorts period.

Alright, I'm still sitting in my bib shorts, I've finished eating my huge bowl of hippie mix, granola and yogurt with lots of nuts and juicy ripe cantaloupe, and a splash of flax oil. Thank you Assos for you all day comfort. Thank you all for reading...If this post sounded at all egotistical, trust me, I know my place. I can feel the pain of everyone on this mornings ride....its the same feeling I have when I finish mid pack at an NRC stage race, or when Chris Horner goes casualy wizzing buy me as I'm drueling all over my top tube just trying to survive. Its all relative. Also check for my next post as It could be worth a laugh at my expense.

Rock Stars Moment of Glory

I'd like to say thanks to my friend Mike Sorrenson from silver city NM for making me look like a bike racer in this photo....As you can see, Lance is a few wheels behind me, Horner is smiling like he always does when he is in pain, Levi is right behind me,(yes I know its hard to see. He's tiny, but you can see his Astana gloves and his white shoe, tucked inbetween me and Floyd Landis...)....With exception to me this could be a photo from the tour de france........These guys are racing in the Giro right now!.....How f-ing rad to be the one putting them in a spot of bother.......Ha!


This photo, which by the way should be on the cover of velo news, is from the crit in downtown silver city. It was a great day of racing and tons of fun....The field was super strong, obviously, and a break never went away. Consequentially the pace was fast and aggressive with the field strung out single or double file. Amazingly the front of the group seemed to be chasing the tail of the snake like peleton around each corner for the entire 1:36 min, 44 miles. That means 170 riders were stretched out almost a mile long. I stayed in the top 3rd of the serpents gullet for most of the race....and on a few rare occasions made it off the front for some sponsor time, but for the most part I was just enjoying the view....I think its safe to say that i was going no where....just lett'n the scrapper in me shine for a moment. Its not often that I get to race with a roster like this.

Thanks again Mike, for my moment of glory.

Home frome the gila

Well, I'm home......and I'm a wreck. I raced my heart out for 5 days, drove 2200..miles(round trip), and drank gallons of starbucks coffee....I'm not going to mention some of the restaurants I ate at, lets just say it wasn't organic and my driving partner was a bad influence. I'm glad the drive is over. I still wish I was racing...after pouring everything I had into a five day stage race I feel kind of lost trying to figure out what to do afterward. Luckily I have a sinus infection....a little one...and I'm going to kill it.

I just raced with Lance Levi, and Horner........Holy shit, LOL that's something I never expected to do. Now the fun is over and I'm trying to make sense of it all......

First....Lance is the real deal....after racing with him for 5 min it's obvious, He is one of a kind, untouchable, a rider with genuine ferocity and pure determination. He is focused and aware, but on a completely different level than the rest of us......its as if his singular purpose or resonate frequency is fully realized and boldly expressed through each movement on his bike. Its like a great white shark as it attacks its prey. TV coverage of the tour de france does nothing to convey this.


Some quick highlights are......cresting the pinos altos climb and then passing the entire mellow johny's team...(lance included) then leading them out on the first descent.......I hardly pedaled, just wanted a clean shot at the descent, 170 guys on a narrow gnarly descent like this is not pretty and I didn't want to get caught out behind a crash or miss an acceleration. It was actually really cool because they couldn't hold my wheel on the decreasing radius turns and I'm sure they thought I was a lunatic for going so fast. Needless to say they all sprinted past me on the first little climb after the descent.....

Second highlight was riding the tt on my steel pegoretti with clip on bars....at first i was disappointed that I wasn't riding the Parlee,( the carbon braze on mount broke the night before I left for the race) but as it turned out using the pegoretti was pure motivation and in retrospect I think the bike performed better than I did.

Thirdly, not sure if that's a word..I got dropped on the first cat 2 climb of the last day. Then I decided to blaze the descent like a possessed grey squirrel from Marin. The tenacious little bugger that just stuffed his belly on table scraps from an overpriced breakfast eatery and is laughing in the face of civilized comfort while decisively evading cars as he dashes down cameo alto on his way to his little stand of conifers not yet overtaken by urban sprawl . That said its was a blast whipping in and out of the draft of the team cars(a skill honed on the slopes of teton pass) as they almost went off the road, (They were having quite a good time also, no cops to dish out tickets meant free time to rally the company car). I caught them all by the bottom, then It quickly blew to pieces on the way back up....Shit really hit the fan at a hemorrhaging ridiculous speed and our group of 70 was shattered into about 20 fragmented little groups.....this was a definite vision quest of a climb.....I just tried to stay conscious.

Gotta run.......the crit was great too......check back later.... addios