What I did with my free time and the first installment of "Old School Wednesdays"

Five days off and two rides, some time with some friends eating waffles, some time spent with my mom.

I know, this is a bike blog, not a waffle/family reunion blog.

I rode out to the Backyard Trail from my house to meet up with Zac, Tumas, Roadie, and the Other White Rich D.

My first ride with my new oh-so-smarter phone.

It was nice to be heading out the door with camera/music/phone/recipes all in one as opposed to the digital camera, iPod Shuffle, not-so-smart phone, and recipe box I'm used to carrying. Sadly, all is not happy and bright in the world of modern technology. While Pandora streaming Dokken into my ears is nice, the routing of my headphone wire is not so nice. Then when I want to take a photo, I've got to deal with a headphone wire and take off my glove, though when it was time to trade casserole recipes at the trailhead, it was nice being able to just email them to each other. Huzzah!

My reduced ability to quickly take a photo meant that the first time Zac tried to clear this line and ended up in the poo creek, I did not get the photo.

"Hold on Zac. Stay in the poo creek just a bit longer so I can disconnect my headphone, take off my glove, wake up my iPhone, pull up my camera app, and get a natural photo."

Still it was a good day (oh-so-smarter phone issues aside).

The Other White Rich D going all "North Shore" and shit.

I spent the day after Christmas riding with Zac and Bike29 teammate, Dough (who was down from Connecticut dodging the IRS and running a load of contraband maple syrup to his parents). We headed out to Wilson's Creek, or as I like to think of it, mountains built for single speeding.

Dough fiddled with his new GoPro and seventeen extension arms that allow him to video record himself from a position only attainable by a time traveling remote control helicopter whilst Zac did his preride Tai Faux.


While I obviously played with the tired and overused-by-others features on my oh-so-smarter phone.

Much climbing was to be had in order to make with the anti-climbs.

Photo cred: Dough and his time traveling remote control helicopter simulator

Dough was entertained by my dainty creek crossing abilities.

Photo cred: Dough

I got through the 32 mile ride on 1/3 bottle of water, 1/3 bottle of Carb Boom, and a Christmas box of Mike and Ike's.

Post ride, we went looking for real food. Mexican food. After Zac took us to a couple closed Mexican restaurants, Dough's iPhone took us to a Mexican grocery store.. and then we finally found Habaneros.

I am always confused with Mexican restaurant menus. Everything looks the same to my uncultured eye, and no matter what I order, it pales in comparison to what everybody else gets.

So what did the "not quite the most interesting man in the world" order?

The "Special Dinner." A little bit of everything... chile relleno, taco, beans, rice, burrito, something like a burrito but not, something like a flat taco but different.

Photo cred: Dough

Two plates. The waiter did not warn me. As Dough says, "nothing like the 'special dinner' for someone four apples tall."

I was not looking at Zac and Dough's plates and their tiny portions with jealousy.

And as promised on Facebook and my (not really) skyrocketing Twitter account, I found a shocking image of a much younger me while perusing my mom's photo albums on her PC.

Put down your beverage and swallow first.

Seriously, I'll wait.




This was taken in December of 1988 (sorry, not 1998). I broke my foot playing tackle football in a parking lot while on Christmas break from Youngstown State University. A few days later, I cracked my cast on New Year's Eve Eve while slam dancing to Paul McCartney's Wings, drinking Black Velvet, and eating Hersey Kisses.

I also puked that night. Thank you Paul S, Doug B, and Biff for keeping me from pulling a Bon Scott.

Yes, I had photochromic Transition prescription glasses, a mega mullet, a dirt stache, jams, and I think a Swatch.

Please restore my cool points with this:

Iron Maiden and a small Eddie the Corpse head... to go with the Nike Swoosh, I also had a Nike hang tag on my walking boot. I was all class and then some. Why weren't the chicks all over me back then?

Dough says I should pull out the old school photo thing once a week.

My mom has enough blog fodder to get me through the winter easy peasy.

Happy birthday, Dad.

1967