Do you have clearance?

Last night's high level top secret meeting went well, although nothing we discussed seemed too high level, and since I'm telling you everything I'd have to say it wasn't very top secret either. I was supposed to ride uptown and meet Will Bolt (one biological half of the Bolt Brothers) and Dave (the MOOTSREP who happened to be scurrying all over the Southeast in the name of all things MOOTS), but they were running late. We ended up meeting a car drive from my house, and for the people who don't know me very well this proves just how important this meeting was as I never leave the house after dark on a weekday in a CAR. Agoraphobia can keep you out of a lot of trouble.

Anyways....

We settled into a private meeting room at the Hickory Tavern near scenic I485 for some hush-hush whisper type conversation. Actually we didn't get a private meeting room, but we did have a small table in the corner away from the regular restaurant regulars and hidden from the eyes and ears of the cycling media hacks with their long telephoto lenses and parabolic listening devices. I'm sure we were sitting purposely close to the kitchen so the background clatter of pots, pans, and squabbling kitchen staff would keep what we had to say off the front pages this morning (gee, it worked).

I would love to say that I was strong and kept my Moon Cheese Sandwich dreams to myself, and that I never once brought up my strong desire to have a 36" wheeled bike, but you'll never hear me say that I was "strong". I can say I waited at least a half hour before sticking this topic into the conversation in a most stilted manner, and although a direct "NEVER" did not come out of Dave's mouth I don't think I heard "Hey, that's the best thing I've ever heard of" either. Let's just say that the Moon Cheese Sandwich is still on the back burner, and may stay there for quite some time. Perhaps I shall rename it the GRILLED Moon Cheese Sandwich since it has spent more time on the back burner than universal health care.

We talked quite a bit about blood doping and the pro peleton. I think this conversation was pre-planned in order to delve into my past and see if I would admit to using banned substances to accomplish one or more of my monumental achievements. I assured everyone at the table (and the members of the media that swamped me when I left the Hickory Tavern) that I have never done anything, including the use of banned substances, marginally unethical race tactics, professional fitting, or even a formalized training program to enhance my race results. Upon saying that MOOTSREP Dave pulled out the 420 page Code of MOOTSETHICS and said "Then if you could sign here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and initial here, and sign here, here, here, and here we should be all good".

Things that were discussed that perked my ears up were:

Skinsuits
Seatstays
Racing plans
MOOTSTOPIAN society
Interbike
Memoirs
Colorado
Private jets
Political aspirations

Let's just say that 2009 is going to be peachy keen, and that's all you really need to know. All photos from last night have been deemed classified and taken purely for the sake of historical reference for that moment when that moment can be looked at in a historical context.

The results are in...

The short track results are up from last week. I finished 10th outta 22 SS'ers. Not very impressive, but right up there in the hunt for my main goal; mid pack or better. More notable would be the fact that my placing made some difference in the world. Bolt Brothers (Bad Idea Racing supplier of bike parts, sleeveless jerseys, and stuff for over twenty days and counting) is now in 5th place overall in the team competition. Team competition??? This year there is a team category at the Charlotte Winter Short Track Series, and the top six point getters from each team go towards the team's total points. Last week I was tied with junior rider Hank Booth for the 5/6th slot with 13 points.

What does all that mean? I guess if the stars and planets line up again I'll be throwing my hat in the ring this Sunday. Knowing that I'm out there trying to collect points is slightly more motivating than working hard to stay ahead of the absolute mid pack. There's a high level Bolt Brothers meeting tonight with a western affiliate that I will more than likely be attending, so we can discuss the continuation of my slightly better than par short track career over drinks and tofu.

Despite my best efforts my Colnago did not sell on eBay. Nobody hit my reserve price of $350, so now I'm back out there with my hat in the street letting it go to the highest bidder without reserve. Such a shame to let it go, but the road bike I'm building will be a better representation of my road cycling history.

My DeBernardi frame has seen years of use as a messenger bike. I've run it with a drop bar, flat bar, and a bullhorn. It's been a 16 speed, 8 speed, 5 speed, single speed, and a fixed gear. Lucky for me the frame is completely chromed under the paint, so all those years of beating it with a U-lock haven't really affected it.

I finally get to use my Kevin Bacon Quicksilver era Silca frame pump (the De Bernardi has a pump peg).

The brakes are Exage from a 1990 Yokota I bought for $229 from Nashbar when I decided to take racing "seriously". I was a member of the Youngstown State Penguin Flyers, and quite possibly the worst rider on the team. Sorry, but training really cut into my ability to thoroughly enjoy my second senior year.

The shifters are supposed to be seven speed, but they'll work just fine for eight speeds. Besides being totally retro they won't stop functioning below 35 degrees (like my STI's did on the Ride to the (not) Beach).

I think the Ultegra Octalink cranks were an upgrade to the aluminum Nashbar "racing frame" my dad bought for me when I graduated college. Shark toothed rings and 600 front derailleur sold separately.

These are the only new parts (aside from some brake cables and housing) that will adorn the soon to be put in service De Bernardi. I picked up the pink bar tape at a swap meet years ago for a couple bucks knowing that someday it would find it's special purpose. I pried the levers from my sponsors money stained fingers using the guilt treatment. I told them that without brake levers I would have no way to actuate my brakes, and I would be risking my life every time I rode without them. No doubt they were terrified at the thought of losing their number one rider, so the day after I informed them of my perilous situation a carrier pigeon arrived at my kitchen window with a pair of Cane Creek SCR-5 brake levers in his talons. I'm so glad they used a carrier pigeon as opposed to the UPS pack gophers that Swiftwick uses. According to my tracking info my 2009 7% Faster® race socks are currently somewhere below Gastonia, NC. I'm slightly worried that they may never get here though as gophers are considered livestock, game, and marriage material in those parts of NC.

Anyways, I'm digging on these levers since they have a nice big surface area for comfy, on-the-hoods type riding. Being a roadie slacker this is where I spend 99% of my time riding (the other 1% of the time my hands are in my nose (just my fingers actually), in my jersey pockets looking for food I forgot to bring, or flailing about in the air as I Vogue my way down the road).




I wonder if anybody makes a puffy shirt jersey....

Let's talk about sex...

Generally speaking I'm all for it. How about you?

Next topic....

I missed the Southern Cross race this last weekend. Unfortunately I chose to do The Most Horrible Thing Ever (which turned out to be The Most Horrible Thing Never) instead, but now having bailed on TMHTE I lost the bird in hand and the one in the bush. I can't believe I missed a course that was hard enough to have people belly aching about how hard it was.... twelve mile climb up a crunchy peanut butter covered road? I missed that? And how 'bout the hike-a-bike that was so steep that this guy chose to drag his bike to the top like an unruly canine badly in need of some obedience training?

Photo ripped from the "Pouched One", but credited to the letter H (Sesame Street influenced I guess)

At least he was dragging his bike with the derailleur side up and outta harm's way. This so looks like it woulda been my kinda race since I ride a single speed and can drag it on either side. Maybe next year.

Take a look at this:
That is dead sexy magna cum laude excelsior. This fork from Niner is all carbon from tip top to dropout bottom. It just says "I'm carbon through and through. I'm sexier than a combination of a late 70's Bo Derek and the space shuttle external tank *." I would be so all over this fork if it wasn't using the updated geometry numbers that Niner is using for 2009. Since I was using 2009 numbers back in 2007 (before they were cool) I decided to go against the grain and build my MOOTS around 2005 retro-style geometry . You just watch me. I'm bringing it back, all the way around the outside of the barn, up the hay elevator, and into the loft where I can get crazy whack funky with it. Close your eyes and picture it.

I surreptitiously stole that picture from bikerumor.com and conveniently cropped it for my own use. There was also this image posted in the same article:

One commenter had this to say: "That fork looks scary! Their method of load testing is virutally useless. They obviously don’t know the loads applied to a fork in the real world."

I am not sure if the commenter is in fact an engineer or perhaps one of the many unemployed armchair engineers that frequent places like MTBR, bikeforums.net, or hermaphrodite nudie bars. He did say that their method of fork testing was "VIRUTALLY USELESS", and since I have no idea how to use a fork in a VIRUTAL manner I must admit he may be onto something. I did my own google search to see how most smart people test fork loads during "virutal use" in the real world, but this is all I came up with:

Since the Niner fork would be useless in the conveyance of peas from plate to mouth I would say that it definitely fails the virutal pea fork test displayed above. Perhaps if the individual in the experiment could adjust the tangential angle of vectoral approach by inclining his support structure in a forward direction (number 22) the fork would be more successful in serving it's purpose as a pea transport device and fewer peas would be affected by the gravitational pull of the earth (number 20). Without further testing we may never know.

George from Bike29 chimed in with a comment to defend the "virutal testing" (not the virutal pea fork test), but I'd bet he's a bit biased since he'd say anything to get his hands on a glow in the dark baby blue carbon fork that matched his glow in the dark baby blue footie pajamas (size: Boy's Extra Husky).

I better get over to MTBR and post up something in the Beer, Vacations, 650B, and Other Virutally Useful Stuff board and see what this is all about.




*Sorry. If I woulda linked the images properly you woulda never looked at the image of the space shuttle external tank that looked like a boob.

Weight a minute

I'll admit I spent more than a useful amount of time considering whether or not I should have made the 25+ pound "yet to be named Zion" more short track appropriate. Many things stood in the way, and every single one of them involved labor and time.

Fork swap - I have a rigid fork that would mount right up, but the crown races would have to be swapped, I'd have to find my 8" rotor IS standard mounting bracket and mount it, and I'd be backing out on my promise to myself to ride suspension until I'm fully recovered. I decided it would be a lot easier to just lock the fork out, so that bit of work cost me one second and saved 0 lbs 0 oz.

Bashguard removal - The reason the bike has a bashguard is because when I did the Double Dare (well half of the Double Dare) fixed I figured I would inadvertently run into a lot of shit. It's still on there since racing has been the furthest thing from my mind, but I did think about the added extra 1/4 pound of rotating weight I would be carrying around for no reason. I left it on since I woulda had to hunt all over the house for some shorter chainring bolts, take out the old bolts and bashguard and replace them with the new shorter bolts (sans bashguard), and adjust my chainline (I wouldn't want to be half-assed). In the end I left it on, 0 lbs 0 oz saved, but absolutely no time wasted except for the five minuts it took me to think of getting rid of the bashguard, playing the whole process out in my mind, and deciding against it.

Faster tires - I'm still rolling my worn out Rampage from last summer and an Ignitor I won at the Shenadoah 100 last fall. These are hardly the best tires for the job, and I have some new Crossmarks waiting in the hole. Since none of my Crossmarks have been Stans'ed I'd be starting from scratch, and if you've ever done Stan's before you know this could be a fifteen minute process or a fifteen hour endeavor. I decided to skip the tire swap and just jack up my pressure to some random higher setting. Time invested: five minutes (two minutes searching for the pump and three using it), weight saved: 0 lbs 0 oz, but morale definitely shot up an unmeasurable amount, but if I tried to measure it I would say it was this much:

Front rotor size reduction - I currently run an 8" front rotor, and I have plenty of 6" rotors laying around. It would save over 90 grams, but I'd have to remove all those rotor bolts (without stripping the heads), swap to the smaller (ahem.. again lighter) brake adapter, and realign the caliper. Yeah, that's a lot of work to save 90 grams when I didn't bother doing any of the other stuff, so 0 lbs 0 oz saved, but very little time wasted considering this an option. BTW: Looking at the rotor weights over at hayesbadassdiscbrake.com I saw that they now offer a 9" and a 5" rotor. Nine and five, what a sweet, silly contrast... like "Nine to Five" was a sweet, silly movie. Although there would be no reason to do what I'm thinking I must say it would look quite comical (just like the movie) and thus worth considering. Besides I can't stop thinking it would be a great way to pay tribute to an American icon and the eighth and ninth wonders of the world...

Dabney Coleman and his killer moustache

I did consider for a very brief moment (around two hours) the idea of getting the Thylacine in working order for a go at the short track, but the idea of mounting a rear brake, swapping out the 36T front ring, taking off the heavy Bonty front/Phil Wood fixed rear wheels and mounting up the I9's (damn it, and either swapping rotors or brake mounts), putting on the IF fork up front.... yeah, I pretty much threw in the towel after the list grew to more than two tasks.

In the end it would've never been worth all the effort. Instead of finishing slightly better than mid-pack I mighta ended up slightly better than slightly better than mid pack. With all the time I saved I sorted my sock drawer, washed the "yet to be named Zion" (had to impress my new sponsor Bolt Brothers), and applied decals to my new helmet.

I know... time well spent, right???

Bad Idea Training Day 1 and 2

Saturday I woke up, got my oatmeal and coffee going, and stared at my monitor. I switched between views of the local green schmeared radar and the very often updated shermanbranch.com (a site devoted entirely to a great local trail with more info than you can shake a trail info shaking stick at). By 8:10 am a window of opportunity became apparent, and if I moved fast it looked like I could squeeze two 11.25 mile laps in... but only if I moved fast.

I was out the door by 8:40am, and on the trail by 9:00am. Within minutes I went anaerobic and kept it pegged the whole time. About an hour later I hit my second lap, and less than half way through I ran into some friends who I know can normally push me to my limit. Evidently they weren't on their normal nut-busting agenda, so I bid them adieu and kept on pursuing to the next stop.

With less than fifteen minutes to go I could feel my tank running low. My oatmeal from 6:45 was officially used up, and I got back to the car on fumes. Day one of Bad Idea Training was in the books.

The next obvious step in training would be to follow up two hours of anaerobic riding with 45 minutes of concentrated hell... in other words I suited up in my new sleeveless Bolt Brothers jersey (lacking a MOOTS jersey and for that matter a MOOTS bike) and entered the single speed class at our local short track series. I knew I'd be in for some serious suffering being that the guy I used to be able to go one-two with a few years ago (Ross Dowswell) finished fourth last week.

All photos courtesy of ARSBARS

Since I knew what I know I realized that the old skool "line up at the front and gun for a hole-shot" wasn't gonna work with this crowd I lined up in the second row. There didn't seem to be much sense in getting to the woods first just to drift back through the pack for 45 minutes. I was always used to get into the narrow opening in the woods in the top three (of maybe ten guys), so I found it quite interesting trying to funnel into the slot three wide at least six or seven spots back in a pack of twenty plus. Elbows and mayhem for what seemed like minutes (but was probably all of three seconds) as we shuffled in like a disorderly deck of cards.

I watched as the lead group flew out of sight, and I held my place in the conga line with the other "not ready for prime time players". By the second lap things shook out, and I was somewhere in the back of the top ten hanging out in some kind of purgatorial no man's land. Halfway through the race I no longer had contact with anyone in front or behind me, and the only excitement came from passing the occasional lapped rider. I decided it was time to set some goals, so the thought of not getting lapped became my inspiration to push myself.

Since this was theoretically some kind of unplanned and inadvisable training I kept it red-lined the whole time. Except for getting caught behind a lapped rider on the narrow trails I was able to ride hard enough that my face stayed contorted in pain for at least 43 of the 45 minutes I spent in the saddle. About one minute into my second to last lap I heard the announcer calling out "one lap to go" to the lead group behind me (I assume it was a group, but it could have been an individual since I hadn't seen the leaders for the last half hour). I knew my hollow victory of not being lapped was all but guaranteed, and I felt slightly (only slightly) better about my day.

I finished. I have no idea how I did, but I finished. The first weekend of Bad Idea Training is now in the books.

The Grand Old Duke of York

Seriously, what gives?

The lack of stimulation around here has resulted in a lot of sub-par blogging for quite some time now. After the buzz of the new sponsor news and the big move to my new blog provider I have been at a loss for blog fodder. The blog has never looked sharper or had better endorsements, but the quality is as lackluster as the most recent issue of MBAction (or any issue for that matter). The most exciting things from my day yesterday would include the following:

I dislodged an obstruction in my nose with my U-lock key.

I sneezed four times in a row on an elevator. I was alone, but since my record is six times I felt no need to call the Guinness people. It was pretty exciting after the third sneeze when I felt the fourth coming along... I really thought I had a shot at the record, but no dice.

I watched the pilot for Double Rush on Youtube yesterday (all three parts). Yes, I was so bored at my job as a bike messenger that I watched the first episode of a failed series about a bunch of bike messengers who seem to work as hard as I don't. I remember the first time I jumped over a car on my way to delivering a package...

And that was just yesterday.

What's not been happening around here is the real news...

MOOTS: Since I don't have any races till April (now that I bailed on TMHTE) there's no rush to get my frame. All my past experiences have taught me to be patient, so that's what I'm doing right now. Besides, the employees at MOOTS are currently under attack by a 200ft tall toothless child, so it's no wonder my frame appears to be backburnered as they're kinda busy defending the factory at the moment.

Yes, those are nuclear cooling towers on top of the MOOTS facility. It takes a lot of power to produce the best ti bikes on the planet (or so I've heard).

Bad Idea Racing jerseys: My jersey designer d'jour has been busy working on things that actually make him some money, so my pro bono assignment has been prioritized right behind his sock darning, but ahead of organizing his belly button lint collection. He doesn't actually collect his own belly button lint, he buys the belly button lint of the rich and famous off eBay and from other rich and famous belly button lint collectors.

Race wheels: Industry Nine has been working on something top secret in their secluded lab six miles below a mountain in Asheville, NC, but apparently something unfortunate happened with the importing of the illegal weapons grade plutonium they were going to make my pawls from, and supposedly this is causing some delays. I know, it sounds like a made up story, but it must be true because that's what they told me.

Race socks: gRant "The socks in the mail" Castle told me that my 2009 socks would be in transit over a week ago. He did not bother to tell me that they would be arriving VIA a new service offered from UPS, Under Ground Delivery. Even as I type this pack gophers are burrowing their way to Charlotte, NC with my socks, and I am awaiting their arrival with baited breath and bare feet. gRant said I should be more than happy when I get them since these are prototypes Swiftwick has been working on for the last twelve years. While the rest of the world will be riding in Swiftwick's normal socks which only make them 5% Faster® I will using their new technology that will actually see my speeds increasing by 7%. That would be 2% more (for the math challenged).

Breck Epic blogger's grant voting: The official website for the Breck Epic is still under construction, so the voting has not started. I know everybody is wanting their voice to be heard, so please keep your enthusiasm alive. You will get your chance to vote for me. I promise "change" (or some of whatever it takes to get your vote).

Thanks Raul Duke.

So there you have it. My future is being held up by a giant dentally challenged toddler, belly button lint and sock darning, Industry Nine employees detained in Guantanamo Bay, and slow burrowing mammals (not to be confused with a slow, boring marsupial).

Maybe to spice things up I will take up Will Bolt's offer and fly the colors for Bolt Brothers at this weekend's short track race. The single speed race will only be 45 minutes long, but I should be able to squeeze at least three and a half blog posts out about it. If I carry a Sharpie and jot down some notes on my forearm I might be able to drag it out for a full five days. That sounds a lot like a plan.

More dredging

With the stagnant state of affairs currently stinking up the place I think that I have no other choice than to continue with my virtual tour of Bad Idea Racing Headquarters. So here we go with the highly anticipated and very expected Part Two...

The Work Space.

clicky make biggy

This is "the zone". Many a bike has been birthed in this corner as well as a few that have been brought back from the brink of death. Instead of being lazy and making you squint at a blurry image I decided to get some close ups this time so you can see what's going on.

First off here are some detailed shots of my tool box (on the left hand side of the image above)


This is the bin of all things small and smaller. All the interesting tid bits, cast-offs, rubber do-dads, and various what-nots that I find laying around but with potential future potentiality end up in here. This is definitely a tribute to my late father who would MacGuyver the shit outta things using inappropriate parts in an inappropriate manner in all manner of repairs. When it comes to half ass solutions to whole ass problems I often turn to the bin for answers. The hottie photo is a much younger Pie wearing a downhillers jersey I found at a NORBA race at Seven Springs. It has been part of my manly tool box for fifteen years, and I will never let her live down that moment of poor judgement.

The upper deck of the tool box has more of the same, but with a bit more order and logical division. Bolts, washers, and very small tools that I would otherwise lose in the vast wasteland that is my workbench (to be discussed in Part Twelve of the virtual tour of Bad Idea Racing Headquarters).

The lower deck of the tool box is full of the stuff I don't really need that often, but need to have some clue where to look for it. Need to adjust my 1" headset on my road bike? Need to rebuild my antiquated square taper bottom bracket? Perhaps re-Stan's tape my rims or replace my worn out Hayes pads? When I lift the lid it really is a "bring out the Gimp" kinda moment. You never know when you're gonna need a Gimp, but you always wanna be able to lift the lid and have one available.

I have an Ultimate workstand, but more often than not I find it less than ultimately handy. I end up sitting on the floor with my bike upside down or supported on my Performance Quikstand (funny, but after years of using it I just got the play on words). It's not that it's not THE ultimate stand, it's just that with the limited space in my work room I end up tripping on the legs if I leave it fully extended, so it spends most of its time just holding these useful items handy in its plastic tray. These are not the "go-to" tools, but definitely the second line of defense in home bike repair. The cup full of zip ties is actually there to supply guests who show up without their own zip ties. These are all recycled zip ties that city workers, festival set up crews, and other people who have a license to litter in the uptown of the Queen City leave scattered all over the sidewalks. I cut them, discard the unusable portion, and thank the minions of careless workers for leaving me to my plastic refuse harvesting.

I own nice wheels, so I treat my wheels with TLC. Here you have my cheap ass, rickety Park TS-7 (I think it's a 7) truing stand with pointless dishing tool and ultra sexy Tensiometer. I mounted it to an old wood crate I found in the parking lot of the USNWC back in the days before it had a fake river running through it. It's originally from Ohio and so am I, so it just seemed like an appropriate place to mount my stand for portability and ease of use. For some reason I have an old, useless pair of Sidi's and a shower curtain shoved into the back of the crate. I'm afraid to throw it away because I'm sure I had a reason to stuff it in there when I did, and the day after I pitch it I'll probably remember just why I kept it and end up on the floor in a sobbing heap mourning its loss.

Here's a preview of things to come...

This is a project that has stalled on the workbench (to be discussed in Part Twelve of the virtual tour of Bad Idea Racing Headquarters). I was finally getting around to making the Ergon byproducts into something useful when I discovered that The Wonderboy never returned my hack saw or my flat file. The project is now shelved until The Wonderboy returns my tools or when I give up hope of ever seeing them again and end up buying new ones.

And in totally unrelated news...

Bike Snob is currently the last name on the registered riders list for SSWC09. I'm not sure why that is interesting, but it just is.

Meathead

Yesterday's post was basically a cathartic exercise. I like the word cathartic... just typing the word cathartic or saying the word cathartic can be... well, cathartic. I feel so much better now, don't you?

Speaking of cathartic..

It had to go. I think I had all the fun I could have with it, and I'm sure I proved that I can grow itch-free hair in the winter as long as I keep the chemicals away from the follicles.

There was some regret as I shaved away at five months of effort, but I decided it's time to get serious. I might not be racking up the base miles, but I look a lot more racery now.

I was gonna keep the chops, but I tend to lose my self control when I'm standing in front of a mirror with a razor. Chops, goat, and eyebrows are now surfing the brown wave that is the CMUD.

Waking up to snow was quite trippy yesterday. It's been awhile since I've had the white fluffy stuff to play in while riding to and fro in name of the almighty dollar. I heard we got our new president yesterday. I missed it, but from what understand Michelle Obama was wearing something that rivaled our economic and foreign policy problems in importance and newsworthiness. Musta been a helluva dress.

Yeah, the ti bike is back in action. The creator of the Mothership is taking another crack at reproducing the magic in steel (with some slight modifications), and he finally returned my repaired (well, sorta repaired by a NASCARian welder with a ti seat rail) frame. I figured why not use it for my knobby work bike and retire the Berserker for the time being. I remember fantasizing about a ti work bike years ago, so now I'm living the dream. No paint to chip, tubes to rust, or giant junkyard magnets to fear. The cyclocross knobbies provide plenty of resistance to forward movement thus forcing me to work harder and stay warmer with the added bonus of getting a good return on investment for what little time I spend on my bike. I kinda wish I had some low rolling resistance full fatties I could install... kinda like the Kenda Karma I just sold...

Taking away TMHTE yesterday was not an easy thing to do. I now have no short term happy goals to look forward to till April. I wanted to do something in March, but there's a slight scheduling conflict that will keep me from going to an organized playdate with my adult playmates. The Pie will be going to a rural orphanage in Haiti's Kenscoff Mountains for two weeks to volunteer at God's Littlest Angels. She will be taking care of orphaned and abandoned children who are sick, malnourished, and sometimes premature. I can't even wrap my head around the experience she is going to have, but suffice to say it is very obvious that she is my better half. During that time I am in charge of holding down the fort and keeping two children alive and fed. That also means no early morning training miles before work since I'll be getting The Fajita to school in the AM and going straight to work a little late every day. The sacrifices that the family unit will have to make on the homefront pale in comparison to what The Pie has committed to while she's in Haiti, and when you think about the people she is going to help while she's down there our "needs" seem down right silly and overindulgent.

If I have succeeded in making you feel guilty about buying a double mocha latte' frappachino today I do not apologize. If you feel the need to put your karma back in balance there are about a million different ways to contribute to God's Littlest Angels without dusting off your passport and going to Haiti for two weeks. Paypal, checks, and all manners of payment are acceptable, and the organization has offices in the US and A so you can feel confident that your money is not freeing a wealthy prince in Zaire from political oppression. Seriously, your $5 goes a very, very long way down there...

Sorry to get all Sally Struthers on you, but whatever.

Tubs, outlets, and butts

After very much thought, very little deliberation, and with loads of regret I'm pulling the plug on The Most Horrible Thing Ever. My wrists and thumb are saying that they don't think it's such a good idea to be riding for 24-36 hours a couple weeks from now, and I'm gonna have to listen. How did I find myself in this situation?

I'd probably have to go back to this past spring. Doing events like The Cohutta 100, PMBAR, and The Cowbell 12 Hour (well less than 12 for me) Challenge probably started up my problems, and I didn't take the time to address them. I do remember the discomfort ramping up a little around the time of the Tour De Burg and ORAMM, as those races certainly had their fair share of painful descents and such. I do know when things got noticeably worse, The Month of Mayhem.

My ti bike broke right before the MOM, so I decided to try a Niner frame and fork. I got the One Niner (scandium SS), and I have to say it was fast, fast, fast and very good at what it does. Light, maneuverable, and stiff, it was one of the best bikes I've ever ridden when it came right down to getting to the finish line as fast as possible. The problem was all that stiffness came at a price, and doing over 330 miles of racing and probably another 100 miles of recreational riding over a one month period of time was not such a good idea. Things kept getting worse, and I just ignored them.

I remember talking to Fuzzy about the whole rigid VS suspension thing at the Tahoe 100 last September (the last race of the MOM). He usually races on a squishy fork, and I was wondering why he chose to do so. He said something about longevity and living to fight another day (I'm horribly paraphrasing), but basically that a rigid fork would cause a lot of damage if he rode it all the time. Racing is what he does, and being stubborn and riding rigid would be at the expense of his health and happiness.

Hmmm....

I've always been under the impression that I can do anything I want to do, and my body will take care of itself. I figure if other people are doing something similar it stands to reason that I should be able to do the same kinds of things. Problem is that I recently started thinking "Is anybody else really doing EXACTLY what I'm doing?"

What is it EXACTLY that I'm doing? I am (up until recently) doing all my mountain biking on a rigid fork. It's the way I like to ride... it feels right to me, and I don't really wanna ride any other way. The first problem I have though is that I do these stupid long events that beat the shit outta me, and it leaves me a little toasted. That would be all well and good if that was the only problem, but there's more. I go out and beat the piss outta myself for 100 miles on Saturday and then go to work on Monday so I can hold onto a pair of handlebars for a week before I head into the next weekend and ride 30 miles off road and then continue the cycle indefinitely till the next event. I can't say I really know anybody else doing something this stupid (somebody might be, but I don't know them), so I can't really say "if other people are doing something similar it stands to reason that I should be able to do the same kinds of things". Obviously a smart person would take a break and heal up, but my occupation leaves me no choice but to get back on the bike immediately. I've been doing this for four years, and I'm approaching forty, so it stands to reason that the unstoppable force (the ramifications of my actions) has met the immovable object (my desire to ride rigid all the time). So what's a smart guy (I did finish college) supposed to do?

This past November I was bordering on being a basket case. I was thinking about my wrists as much as a teenage boy thinks about sex. I was becoming obsessed thinking about them all the time, and I almost considered making an appointment with a physician even though it was gonna cost me an arm and a leg (thanks to my friendly insurance company and my interesting benefit limitations). I love riding my mountain bike, and I love riding it rigid more than any other way, so thinking about the possibility that I was endangering my future happiness due to my stubbornness really bothered me to no end. That's when I started thinking about the fact that I was dealing with an overuse injury and that the logical cure was forcing myself to consider taking a break from what I'm doing. Since I can't quit my job, and I shudder at the thought of spending my winter on a road bike (yech) I bought a Fox Fjork.

I've been healing pretty quickly since I put the squishy fork on the Zion. I'm not 100% better, but my every waking thought isn't clouded with depressing thoughts about never getting any better or thinking about going under the knife. At this rate I can see myself getting over this, but I'm gonna have to be smarter in the future. My new MOOTS will be built to suit my future needs and not my fashionable desires. I wanted to have it made with my non-suspension corrected Independent Fabrication fork in mind, but I've thrown that idea out. It will be built around the 490mm A-C Niner fork (yes steel, not carbon for me) so I can throw my 100mm Fox Fjork on the front when I need to recover from something big and stupid.

So in the interest of good health and a happy future I'm pulling out of TMHTE. Warm joints are happy joints and keeping my joints warm and happy for 36 hours would more than likely not be possible. I'm pretty sure it would set me back in my recovery, and that's just not acceptable at this point in my life. I've got a lot of fun lined up for 2009, and I plan on enjoying it to its fullest.

So...

Not only did you suffer through this sob story drivel you will not get TMHTE race report drawn out over a week of postings this February. I assure you I will bring back the entertainment factor even if it means I have to do Part Two through Seventeen of my virtual tour of Bad Idea Racing headquarters.

Sorry, I don't blog on my days off...

Last week somebody told me that my bad hair photo made me look like a criminal. Good thing I didn't post up an actual image from my days spent in lockup. Those were some rough times... brought a whole new meaning to the Bare Knuckle Brigade, let me tell you.

I watch my back like I'm locked down

First off, I would like to thank the Wu Tang Clan for all the inspiration this week. We should all ask ourselves "Where would we be without the Wu Tang Clan?"


Secondly, I am officially sick. That's the second time this season (not to be confused with "the season"). This is not necessarily very good timing the way I see it. I have a three day weekend to recover from my illness, but I need to get out for a ride to determine whether or not I'll be able to do The Most Horrible Thing Ever in a couple weeks. As of right now my wrists feel a lot better, but the meaty part of my left thumb is being stubborn about healing up.

Progress on the Bad Idea Racing jerseys??? I'm still pretty sure it's gonna be a go, but I've got one more hurdle to clear before we (meaning him) can start with the designing process. Thanks to all of you who left comments and/or sent emails. When I know something you'll know something.

And in totally worthless news....

I did some checking into it, and apparently the "followers" listed on my sidebar are not physically following me as I had originally been led to believe. It's more like third degree internet stalking or some kind of a cult thing. I'm hoping for the latter over the former, although there's certainly a glamorous side to being stalked. Deep down I hope it's the cult thing because I checked with the IRS, and if I can get more than 100 followers I can qualify for "cult status" on my 2009 taxes. I do have to provide documented proof of a cache of unregistered weapons and have the sworn allegiance of my followers, so I'll get the paperwork out to my followers sometime next week. Hopefully I'll just qualify for cult status under the "Cult Leader Appearance" clause that states that "regardless of weapons cache, sworn allegiance of cult members, or number of said members you may still qualify for cult status exemptions as long as you look like a cult leader."

Think I qualify?

I know, I know... I really need to get those Serpico's to pull my look together.

I break loops and trample shit

For some odd reason when I went to bed last night I told The Pie I had no blog fodder for today's post. This morning when I awoke from a strange dream about being in a warehouse and moving plastic things around (I might be reading this blog too much) my first thought was "Shit, I still got nothing". This might have something to do with the fact that I was given a creative writing assignment yesterday, and maybe I only can produce something of quality once in a 24 hour period. Maybe it's because I'm coming down with something since I have a sore throat and achy joints... dunno.

So as I sit here slumped in my chair I feel forced to go dumpster diving for material. What follows is a dredge of a post.

I've had people come over to my house for bicycular help in the past who haven't been in my bike room before. The first thing one sees upon entering is my Commodore 64... err I mean my Gateway computer, the home made keyboard shelf, and my new (to me) 150lb $13 monitor. More than one of them has said "So this is where it happens". Yes, this is where IT happens, but there is so much more to see and do at Bad Idea Racing headquarters, so for lack of a better topic today I now present Part One (I'll resort to Part Two if I find myself stymied in the future) of my virtual tour of Bad Idea Racing.

Here is the SSSS Area (Shitty Shelving Storage System):

pic is clicky make biggy for details

These rickety shelves belonged to my father and if I know him they probably cost him $.25 at an auction or a flea market. They're probably @ 30+ years old, but shitty shelves from the 70's are the equivalent of decent shelves of the 2000's, so they have held up fine over the years.

Enough history, let's talk about today. Up on the top shelf (the one I can't reach unless I stand on the chair at the bottom of the picture that I took outta my neighbor's garbage) has all the cold weather stuff that doesn't really get used much in Charlotte (well, except this weekend when it will be 9 degrees). Long tights, mittens, balaclavas... you name it. Hardly worth mentioning, but remember, I'm desperate today.

The second shelf down has all my arm and knee warmers along with my tube supply (not to be confused with my Air Supply which is kept handy near the entertainment system). I do my best to keep my tubes orderly since I have 26", 29", lite 29", cyclocross, work, and road tubes up there. I dive into the pile once and awhile, and eventually it becomes all disorganized forcing me to re-organize them into tidy arrangements. Anal meet retentive. My watch, goggles, and children's pictures also reside here as I don't wear my watch, never use the goggles, and don't have a wallet in which to put wallet sized photos.

Which brings us to the third shelf. Now we're getting into Bad Idea Racing territory. Here's where I keep the following handy things handy:

Blinkies: I've found countless blinkies at 24 hour races (yes, I used to stop in the middle of a 24 hour race and pick up blinkies, pumps, coats, tubes, used condoms... anything I thought I could use myself)

Performance eyewear: Race enough and you'll have a shelf full of Tifosi's and Ryder's. This is where I keep the go-to riding glasses. In a perfect world it would be a shelf full of Serpico's in every frame and lense option.

Chamois butter, mustard packets, electrolytes, Icy Hot, Emergen-C's, and a useless saddle bag that I has no straps, yet I can't bring myself to throw it away.

Let's move on to shelf number four. This is truly a waste of space, but somehow it just happened that way. Here's what ended up on this what should be a useful area, but in actuality wasted prime real estate:

Winter hats: What Canadianicans call tuques (they are so smug with their little cute names for things, aren't they?). Useful for keeping my head warm when I head out the door sans bike, and for keeping my hair growth outta The Pie's line of sight.

Fashion eyewear: These are the sunglasses that are handed out a races that make no sense out on the trail. Once again, they have no purpose on a bike shelf, but if I leave them laying around The Pie will throw them in the key basket (why do women put everything in baskets?). Any Serpico's on that shelf? Negatory.

Sundrious items that include chapstick, MP3 players, eyedrops, Gold Bond powder (why the hell is that in my room?), cowbells, bungee cords, and four dozen sunglass protective sock things.

The bottom shelf contains useful items, but in extravagant quantities. On the left I have what seems like 1,000 cycling caps. Most of them have accidentally gone through a wash/dry cycle rendering them warped, cracked, or rotted. It seems like most cycling caps are deigned to have the life span of the average fruit fly. At least I have some Walz caps in there that have stood the test of time to make me feel like a more thoughtful consumer...

On the right side of the bottom shelf is a collection of gloves. I have no idea how many pairs are stacked up there, but I am aware of the fact that I have a problem. Kinda like Mel Gibson's character in Conspiracy Theory where he felt the overwhelming urge to by a copy of Catcher in the Rye when he was feeling anxious I think I might have some Manchurian Candidate/CIA sleeper killer like traits that have been hypnotically and chemically laced into my psyche. Two days ago I was in Auto Zone looking at Mechanix Gloves, and even yesterday I couldn't stop looking at work gloves at Little Hardware. With the innauguration around the corner I'm considering the thought of handcuffing myself to a radiator just in case.

Other various artifacts you may see if you look hard enough (see if you can find them):

Run Club gear (untouched for months)

Copy of Dirt Rag that I can't bring myself to throw in the recycling bin since I'm mentioned in the La Ruta article

Ammo can full of gels (with a "SUCK IT F**KTARD sticker inside the lid)

SPD sandals at the ready

Sure you can see my Ghandi "Real beauty is my aim" poster, but can you see my Einstein "Imagination is more important than knowledge" poster?


FYI: I'm warning you ahead of time. There may be more posts lacking in real substance in the near future. Prepare yourself.

Late edit: This post took so long that Big Worm beat me to the publishing finish line today. Bastard.

Even later edit: RIP Khan. You will be remembered.

Stabbin' up the pad with the vocab

How does the 2005 24 Hour SS World champ (not to mention 2007 NUE SS champ and president of The Facial Hair for Men Club) train for Single Speed Arizona?
Dejay Birtch (now sponsored by Stayfree Maxi Pads, Massengill, and Lifetime Network for Women) out training with his new "training" wheels on some gnarly cracked pavement in Arizona.

There you have it. Dejay should be more careful when guarding his dirty little secrets. I mean, he's just like Lance... he can't leave the house, wipe his ass, or even think about wiping his ass without some paparazzi getting an embarrassing shot and selling it to the highest bidder (I got this photo for $5).
Singleswizzle.com?? More like Pringleshizzle.com* if you ask me.

Gears? Check.
Squish? Double Check.
Removal of genitals? He'd better check.

* Pringle, as in a potato chip but not quite a real potato chip, and shizzle as in Syncros... I mean shit.

Guitar Ted asked me the other day what was up with my mullet. Well, it's not so much of a mullet as it is an experiment.

The price I pay getting up at 5:15 every morning to blog.

Every winter I let my hair grow out in the name of warmth, but I always get stymied early on. My head starts to itch because I wear a cycling cap under my helmet all day, and once the dandruff starts to drift up on my shoulder I cut it off. This year I decided to do something different. My last self-serve haircut was the week before Fool's Gold last August. Since then I stopped using shampoos with sodium laurel ethyl sulfate (a mild foaming agent derived from coconut that removes the natural oils from hair), and I started using organic ONLY shampoos. Now there's no itching, no dandruff, and no stopping me from achieving a look that will have women propositioning me in the streets of Charlotte.

"Is it the hair, the ear ring, or the leather vest? You tell me."

I just need to get some proper shades ASAP. Smith makes these sweet (and very appropriately named) Serpico's. I know I said that hair is a vain indulgence in endurance racing, but maybe this is the year of the Vain Indulgence Tour.....

Speaking of vanity...

This idea popped in my head the other day. Does it smack of blasphemy? Would naming the new bike anything other than Meatplow be wrong? Would it be selling out or a funny play on words?? With bike names like Mooto X, Vamoots, Rigormootis, Mootour, Comooter, and the Sound of Mootsic (all right, I made that one up) doesn't it seem like a natural fit??

I'm kickin like a Canadianican Segall

The Fastest Bike in the World has always had an identity crisis. Ever since The Wonderboy started the Handlebar of the Month Club it has been quite fashionable to constantly swap the cockpit on your messenger bike to correspond with your mood or to reflect a recent acquisition from the local bike shop bin of handlebar death. I've tried drops, flats, risers, bullhorns, and everything in between. Such bar changes necessitated the purchase of a quill stem adapter in order to use the shit ton of stems I have with the shit ton of bars I've acquired. I've always wanted a clean look, but the combo of a threadless stem and threaded headset looked a lot like putting dubs on a mobile home. Then one day I found this on eBay (for $10 shipped I might add):

Yes old skool know it alls, this is a 120 mm Syncros 1" quill stem. Syncros, back before GT bought them out and dragged them down to their current second class, shit state status, The days before people said "Thomson who??" Back in the day Syncros was the shit, so much so that in their native land of Canadianica people stopped using the term "the shit" and started saying "the Syncros" instead, like "Hey, that hockey game last night was the Syncros", or "This pork filled donut is just aboot the Syncros, but it could use more bacon". Once Syncros was bought out by the soon to be doomed GT the Canadianicans went back to calling things "the shit" again, as in "What's up with our economy? America has really gotten us into the shit".

Look how wide that clamp is:

No removable face plates for us back then. No sissy boy quick bar changes for Joe Mountain Biker. Remove the grips (which were hairsprayed, painted, or safety wired on), pull off the brake lever, remove the shifter... let's face it, there was a certain level of commitment to stem length that the youngsters today will never understand. Note that you will never, ever, ever get even a low rise bar through the opening in this stem. I was lucky that my cruiser bars I dug outta a bin of death years ago were curved just so slightly enough to allow passage through the finicky stem. I wanna put a good picture of Thad or Peter in the little "frame" on the front, but finding a "good picture" of those two is like finding a good picture of a sphincter... the most you can hope for is that it will be out of focus and you still won't want to look at it.

While making the stem swap I was able to solve a problem that has plagued The Fastest Bike in the World for a large portion of the time that I've owned it. After my first few months of riding faster than anyone could ever imagine riding a bike something started to creak. This creak was more than a minor annoyance as it actually reduced the overall speed of the machine, not enough to bring it down to the level of the second fastest bike in the world, but I was nervous that it would lose it's number one ranking. Each time that I pedaled the bike with monster truck force it would respond with an audible barbaric YAWP draining power from me on more of a mental level than a physical one, but slowing me down all the same.

After a good rain the bike would cease to make it's annoying noise, and I would get a brief respite from the audible, power sucking hullabaloo, but once things dried up the bike would continue tormenting me. I tried rebuilding the bottom bracket, headset, and hubs... I looked for cracks in the frame and components, but for the most part I tried to ignored it. It affected my happiness at work, and I often times shortened my prework "training rides" as the noise sucked my will to live down to dangerous levels.

So when I went to mount the shit, I mean the Syncros stem, I got a good look inside the headset. When I shined my tiny LED light around I found the culprit. Apparently in the name of speed the previous owner had replaced an O-ring with a much lighter (as much as 50% lighter) U-ring. While the U-ring was probably lighter it was much less efficient at keeping the headset and stem/steerer junction dry and happy. I'm not even sure why anybody invented the ineffective U-ring, or even called it a "ring" as it has neither the characteristics or properties of an actual ring. With my new and appropriately named O-ring installed I have been riding around noise free for months, and with this improvement I am sure that this "season's" "training rides" will be more awesomer than ever.


Fjear, in the shape of a rubber O that can only be bought in quantities of no less than ten at your local Home Depot.