Next Year the Knobbies

or
Dammit I Forgot Them for the Second Year in a Row!

Next year the knobbies
need to come with
to prance up the uphills
to pound through the ditch

Next year the knobbies
will clutch, paw and dig
careen down the downhills
on my mountain rig

This year the knobbies
were up on the hook
high in the rafters
of
the garage
at
my house
dry
pristine
waiting

un
chal
lenged

- The Bag forgot them again and this time there was snow and #@!%!! wet leaves

S.T.U.P.I.D.

Salem Trails Utterly Pointless and Insane Day 10-7-06

Goals -- they're dangerous.

I will ride 100 off-road miles at Salem Hills.

Now, think about it. Riding an off-road century is a feat, to be sure, but let's consider this one...reeeaaaally think about it. The Salem Hills trail system consists of a north loop and a south loop...for a total of 4.5 miles. Given what Salem Hills IS, that glorious, challenging statement then translates into:

I will ride 22 laps at Salem Hills.

Twenty-two laps. Since each lap takes just under 30 minutes to ride, 22 laps means:

I will be riding the same 4.5 mile loop over and over for 11 hours.

Ummm....So let's take that statement and extrapolate out to the available daylight. Suddenly what's REALLY being said is:

I will get up in time to get to the trail by 6:30 AM
and I will spend 11 hours riding the same 4.5 mile loop
over and over for 22 laps until it's dark.

And, given that Salem Hills is a great little swoopy, loopy, curvy set of trails with a feature that would be one, THE rock feature one could say that Salem isn't overly challenging. Add wind gusts of up to 33 mph on the prairie section and what you're ACTUALLY saying is:

I will get out of bed in time to get to Salem Hills by 6:30 AM
and I will spend 11 hours circling the same mind-numbing 4.5 mile loop
over and over for 22 laps
in order to ride 100 off-road miles on the windiest 80-degree day of the year.

OR

One could set different goals. I'm kind of partial to these:

I will ride laps at Salem Hills until I get tired
or until my brain gets tired.

I will arrive sometime in the morning
after my morning coffee and newspaper...priorities!

I will cheat and ride my 'cross bike
instead of my mountain bike
and I will deserve an extra lap just for being smart
come-on, 700 wheels?! nobrainer

I will take breaks when I'm hungry
or when there are other people hanging out on lawn chairs

I will leave to run an errand.

I will return and ride more.

When my body hurts, I will quit
and then I will drink beer with other people hanging out on lawn chairs.

Do I need to ride 100 off-road miles? Heck no.

CAN I ride 100 off-road miles? Heck no! But my helmet's off to those who did!

- OB

God in Lycra

I had joined The Sweetie for part of his commute the other day. We were taking it easy, heading home on a combo trail/road ride following a passageway through the labyrinth that makes up the Grand Rounds. Work wasn't so bad on a day like that one, regardless of whether one was in a car or on a bicycle. Car windows were down, trail users were out. Everyone was enjoying one of the last days of afternoon sunlight and warmth.

We were on the Minnehaha Trail closing-in on the intersection of the Parkway and Cedar. The light was green for us, and traffic started rolling through. An old VW van in the street next to us was making its way slowly at about the same pace we were going. Sweetie, ahead of me, and I both checked the situation: no blinker, driver looked at us. Sweetie rolled off the trail and into the crosswalk.

At the same time, VW took its right turn into the crosswalk.

I grabbed for my brakes.

Perhaps it was Sweetie's high-vis jersey that caught VW's eye. The driver's face showed its realization at the same time his passenger gasped a breath and grabbed at him. The van braked.

Ohhh Dude. I said it out loud. It wasn't accusatory, wasn't directed to the driver...but I wasn't talking to Sweetie either. The van's windows were open and it was close enough for those inside to hear me. The driver's silent eyes Yeah. Dude. darted from Sweetie to me at the curb.

Ohhh Dude.

Who was I talking to? Was it an expression of relief? a prayer? an "oh man, what coulda been"? I grew up in a home where saying G-O-D wasn't appropriate outside of church and prayers. Who then do I exclaim to during tough situations? Who do I talk to under my breath? Whose name do I take in vein when I cuss?

Is
it
DUDE?

Is DUDE some supreme cyclist who reigns on high? Is it DUDE who watches over us during those near-misses? Is DUDE really G-O-D but in lycra? is the idea of GOD-in-lycra sacrilege? If so, is s/he a dirt-lover or a roadie?

- The Bag does DUDE look like Sheldon Brown and rule from atop a Fizik saddle wielding a scepter of triple-butted steel with a blue Park Tools handle topped off by a Dinotte?

So, What DO Women Want???

You're riding down 18th street on a cool fall afternoon. You notice all the women aged 21-35 are standing along the sidewalk, all staring at you. As you stop for a red light, one approaches....

Boys, if you want to know what it is that we women really notice, check out this DC's Craigslist posting....

In case it's gone, here's a pdf.

- OB from BikeHugger by way of 42

Magic, Space, Love, Freedom

surpassing the usual or ordinary, particularly in scope or size

heroic and impressive in quality

Epic.

We've all had one -- an epic ride -- whether mountain, road or commute.

We know when we're in ITS midst. We know we've been there after IT'S gone. IT leaves faraway wildness or wistfullness on our faces as we struggle to capture the hugeness while we retell the tale...our tale of THAT ride.

Yet, we're content in our inability. IT can't be readily explained. And those listening nod with understanding.

Your epic: what are the components? Juancho explains his over at the Circus "no matter how many miles I ride, my body will never catch up to the distance my mind travels when in the saddle."

- TOB

Raise a Cupcake

to TOB
who came to be
just one short year ago

for TOB
like you and me
just chasin' off life's woes

the TOB
who would agree
that cycling's apropos

so TOB
she spews for free
'bout Betty and some joes

this TOB
some say she's me
or some old coot who blows

- um, T O B

The Way Home

It's a fine ride home -- here are just about all 12 miles of the commute....










































- TOB it's all smack in the midst of the metro...and did you catch the other bicycle commuters?

Rumination

sometimes all that's necessary
is a careful examination of the pieces
and of the intricate connection
between their working and their resting

- ob