Ride Lugged

Slate has up a great photoset today for the birfday of James Starley who is “considered the father of the bicycle industry.”

Most of the pics are classic shots, thus the “shit that rights up johnsons alley” tag.

What’s your favorite?

hey, here is my photo sales pitch for this May ride.

taken last fall, on the PA ramble. 

two weekends that work for me: the 12th or 19th of may. i have an easy ride planned. by easy i mean actually pretty easy, sub 3000 feet of climbing, only 15 miles or so on dirt. 50 miles total. Here’s a ride profile, for those who dont believe me.

see all that farmland? thats just rolling hills. i estimate everyone could do this, esp if we stop and eat a light lunch in the middle. by that, i dont mean grease soaked pancakes or burgers. i mean sandwiches, which i will make using peanuts, butter, and jelly. there’s a wussy bail point, at the big dogleg 90 degree turn about 2/3s through. its not much less mileage, but you skip the big dirt climb. its not a nasty climb, it just goes on forever. for those who made the last PA ramble, this ride incorporates alot of the same stuff, but without the two big climbs (and view). it also involves crossing but not riding along, a major highway. (no big deal really) I think you could do this ride on 23s, but I would recommend a fat 28. I blah blah rain or shine. Nick, you have to ride, because I am making a spoke card. Gary, you have to ride, cause you never come out to these joints. John, you should come so we can work on breaking your cranks, and possibly stem. Rob and Christine, James, and whoever else reads this shit, should come as well. I’ll try really hard to get some fresh faces.

mel told me i shouldnt post any more of these. but it’s important that these people be blacklisted from any public office, position of corporate power, or child care/child rearing.

what you are looking at:  clothes stapled to a tree.

words of the artist:  “I too consider myself very spontaneous, and the kiss that inspired my work was a completely random incident.”

further:  “I used the clothing from my room as well as tools to prop them up. I think this distinguishing characteristic is important because it illustrates my dependence on clothing and the material world as a whole. I am very connected to society and I don’t enjoy nature the way I perceive Goldsworthy enjoying. Whereas he gets his hands dirty to accomplish the style he is known for, I am very fussy about the outdoors. As I said earlier, my fascination with clothes permeates into this assignment, and despite it focusing on nature I still incorporate them into whatever I do.”

woo there are a series of doozies in there.  how can i objectively grade such sentiments?  answer:  i dont!

actually here is what i wrote, pretty level headed i think:

“Autumne,
I think this work would have been more successful if you had somehow implied what happened under the tree, perhaps through lighting or further props.  I appreciate that there is a narrative structure lurking in the background.  I just think it needs to be more clear to the viewer.  Otherwise, it seems you are simply trying to anthropomorphize the tree through fashion. ”

Ok here is anouther one, just a quote really:

“I debated adding some white rocks around the base of the flower to enhance to contrast. I decided against that because i liked the simple natural feel of a solitary flower without aesthetic additions. More things would have also ruined the interaction of having one object change a space.”

allow me to translate this for you.  I thought about trying harder, but I decided against it.  Here is some bullshit as to why this is.  Also, my last sentance doesn’t make any grammatical sense, but hopefully, you, the teacher, are either drunk or stoned like I am right now, and therefore incapable of reading this essay too closely.

Now: oh my fucking god!

“This tree and pom-poms incorporate both childhood memories as well as my collegiate memories. Growing up I was always fascinated by trees, mainly stemming from my love for climbing trees.  Since coming to college this passion has died out.  However, I wanted to recreate it by bringing energy through nature with the elements of my work.  This is why I incorporated the pom-poms and the blue and white dinosaur.  These pieces serve to link my past memories and passions with my love for Penn State and nature.  The different views or shots of the dinosaur represent the different perspective, memories and experiences I have had throughout my life. By placing these elements into this fascinating tree, I attempted to bring spontaneity, power and energy to this nature. ”

sorry i had to include the whole schebang, but,  um.  incredible.  future IMF president, no doubt.   er, uh, this was written by a  dude, at that.

My response:  “Eddie, Penn State propaganda is always dubious as an ‘art’ form.  I think your work would have benefited from less glorifying elements to connote your time here.  What do fake dinosaurs have to do with your contemporary conception of nature? ”

Fuck!

“These tiny yellow flowers would represent the new life that JD was starting in heaven.  I then wrapped my bundle of twigs; in a sweatshirt that JD had given me that was his at one time, which stated Lewistown Panthers, where he would have graduated this year.  After creating this amazing piece of art, I was trying to decide where in the world I was going to put it.  I then decided I would put my piece of artwork on the very road that JD lost his life, but also began his new one; Dry Valley Road in Burnham, Pa.”

How is a sweatshirt wrapped around twigs, A. fitting testament to a life, B. amazing art?  I hate it when they pull the sympathy card.

Ok, so I don’t really know if I got the name right or any further details, really(and only Verča will know.)

So Saturday was awesome weather. Sunny, 75 or 80. Strangely nice.
I had been in the country for a day and a half, so Verča decided to take me Mountain biking (with her 2 fast friends)… on a 80km (50mile) ride. Let’s say I was a bit reluctant, but it was nice out and I was jetlagged, so I didn’t think straight.

We rode the train from downtown Prague (actually a 2.5 km ride from home) and full on jumped on the train as it was pulling away, because we were running late and we saw our friends in the last car. So we didn’t pay our fare and were wondering if we were going to get busted.

So the train car is set up to hold bikes in a end car. Actually it holds three bikes (and probably not a 29er), and there were now four of us. So the Moots got to hang out in between cars. At the next stop we saw a bunch of people on the platform, so I headed to hang out with the Moots. About 25 more people got onto the already full car. So I got stuck holding my bike while I became surrounded with some 5 shady Czech folks (with some 5 nice-ish dogs), taking turns chugging warm 22’s of Staropramen out of a backpack, getting a bit inebriated.

Oh yeah, back to the ride. So we rode the train 30k out of town to get a start from some little town, Dobřichovice at the base of a some big state(national) forest/mountain. We rode out of town and up about 800ft up the big hill.

Then good riding, lots of it. Like riding in Michaux but dry. Beautiful singletrack and doubletrack with tons of roots through predominately pine forest with thousands of fist sized rocks sticking out of the ground. Every once in a while there is some fireroad or forest service gravel road.

Apparently this is where they run a pretty big yearly race. There are lots of hills up and down, almost no switchbacks. When it is time to climb it will be for a while. But the ridge riding is good when it comes too. There appear to only be marathon length bike races in this country. This race is either 50k or 90k (31 or 56 miles.) We(I) opted for the 50 since we rode to get here a bit and were going to ride the 30k home.

So there was this crazy fast downhill on tar and chip/gravel, followed by a brutal fireroad climb back up, that never ended. I was pretty sure I was going to die. It was fun up to this point. Now I was getting dropped. I decided that I wasn’t going to walk; (but I had contemplated getting off and crawling, though.) I didn’t want these guys who were going to be my new riding partners (one of which whom I smuggled King hubs into the country for) to see me break on the first ride. I didn’t walk. I guess they didn’t see me, cause they kept going. I caught up at the top. (It was very far away.) We rode for a while and I was alive again, although pained. Another long descent followed by a wall of a climb back up. I’m talking lowest gear on a paved climb, a kilo long so steep I couldn’t keep the front tire from going over my shoulder.

Ultimately we soon came back off the mountain through a dirt drive, a construction site, and a couple of fields before being dumped back to another town. We were all hungry and looking for food. We found good food and beer in Řevnice, fried camembert and some fried potato balls.

The fastest guy, Kuba (somehow short for Jakob) coped out and rode the train home to do something with his wife. Verča, Lukaš and I headed home by bike. With a generally flat 30k along the river to go home we were off. Mostly gravel bike path with some road and full on dirt thrown in. Into a head wind the entire way. I was done. My legs were gone. I used my second wind hours before. I tricked the others into stopping for ice cream along the way just to get a break. We fought week-end warrior traffic all the way home, and had a good finish to a long ride. (Although the last 3 blocks home are cobblestone. Big belgian blocks that make Paris-Roubaix cringe. It seems like a third of all urban riding here is like that. Needless to say it’s pretty tough getting home after a long ride.)

So maybe 85k: at least 50 on trail, maybe another 25 on gravel or dirt path, 5 on pavé.
I seem to have blocked out how long it took. We left the house at 10:15am and were probably not back until 4:30 or 5pm

no pictures.
maybe some later once I am more settled.

hope all is well.
-cory

Sorry Casey, he beat you to it.

Dyson sponsors an australian desgin award. They have some interesting bike designs like this bicycle (tricycle) that’s designed to help handicapped peoples:

This bike which has an exoskeleton molded from a composite jolly rancher and laffy taffy is 100 times stronger than jolly ranchers alone¹. No lugs on this bike, sorry.

This is a complicated schematic which shows how the bike works. Let me break it down for you, hydraulic pistons (similar to the ones you use to get your low rider to go up and down), force the wheels to move in and out, actuated by a hydraulic pump (similar to the ones used for various sundries like penile enhancment pumps). The CPU (Cycle Powered Ubercomputer) tells the hydraulics when to splode and when to unsplode. This process uses the electric dynamo (Michael Faraday’s porn name). It’s a facinating process which I have done extensive research into ²

After all of that I hope dyson give them a solid gold or at least chromed out vacuum.

¹ I have no idea what I’m talking about. It’s probably just plastic.
² I still have no idea what I’m talking about.

bonus:
this doesn’t require a post so here is a link to a site with some stats about Stastistics about Cars, Energy, Pollution, Bikes, and more

i have a lot more incriminating photos, but lucky for starmer, they are all A. in the shed in some unlabeled box, and B. my scanner doesnt like my new laptop, so i cant scan them in.

as you may or may not know, starmer is getting hitched on saturday. i offer this web based toast: schtinkn geschlecht paskudne un scharf kelef derfreien(s)!

rachel approaches james about signing a prenup. james shows her where to stick it.

james eating chicken flavored prenup. little does he know, John McCain’s Fingering Finger touched that chicken flavored prenup.

we knew cory less than 1094 days. during that time, he wore camoflage (sp) shants for at least 1078 of those days. for proof of this, visit fix. here is a super short foto journal looking back on the 1093 days we knew cory (or thought we did). what? i have a fever, i cant be writing some long post about cory, his stance on lugged bikes, lugged bicycles, bikes with lugs, horses, crazy french people, floppy dicks or saggy tits. I’ll save that for a whole nuther post about lugged bikes, lugged bicycles, bikes with lugs, horses, crazy french people, floppy dicks and saggy tits. cory had (when you leave the country you die, so i will only refer to cory in the past tense from now on) a penchant for dirty fingernails, dirty palms, floors, kitchens (his bathroom was suprizingly clean) bedrooms, living rooms, (when i first met cory, this isnt a lie, he had mark and I over for a beer (sorry me and mark) (where is mark anyway?) and we drank beers out a fridge that was in his ‘living room’ aka a log cabin with no furniture except for a fridge that you had to reach across a fairly large hole in the floor to get to.), cars that smelled like feet and raw meat, clothes that had huge holes that had been patched with fabrics that didnt match at all, homemade hats of various unsundry, bikes that looked like crap and barely rode in a straight line (he used chicken fat for grease) ect ect.

since we knew him, he spent at least 12,000 pounds sterling on new bikes, all of which would have looked super hotness, but he would abeways find a way to ruin them somehow. he would put dirty diaper looking saddle covers on 2000 dollar mtn bikes, and tape floor pumps to his downtubes. i suppose thats what made cory, cory. cory.

cory.

anyway, here are the pictures, which as yet dont include any fotos of lugged bikes, lugged bicycles, bikes with lugs, horses, crazy french people, floppy dicks or saggy tits. nor are thy illustrative of cory’s stance on lugged bikes, lugged bicycles, bikes with lugs, horses, crazy french people, floppy dicks or saggy tits.

desperate attempt to get linked by wonkette again: cory at the dirtiest bike messenger race ever. we got dead fucking last and cory when home with a grundle of czech sex toys. a sign of things to come. (yeah i know he had already met veronika)

cory with granola jacki pheland. ( i cant spell or exactly remember how to pronounce her last name) cory traded his prized banjo for jaqui’s (sp?) beer. rumor has it she doesn’t ride a lugged bike, nor does she own a horse.

crazy french people! on horses! oh wait, its just cory (center) his mom, (wacky) and dad (not drunk, but looks it), at the wild west party, where there was plenty of lugged horses. and by that i mean lugged bicycles.

cory getting ready for his bit part in the new james bond flick. little does he know that it

takes place in france, where crazy french people, with horses live.

we’ll miss you cory, god bless america, what?! were you born in a barn, jesus mary and joseph, west by god virginia, wade benson. maybe you never return. (without bearing cheap foreign made gifts)

I’m getting on a plane this afternoon, (if i make it through security with 5 king hubs, 2 headsets, 2 sic stems, 2 niteriders, 1 frankenlight, a pair of dominator 6’s, some climbing shoes, a harness, and about 25lbs of climbing gear.)

Riding was fun in MD, so come join me a little father east now.
word!
-cory

same phone number rings there, just with a 358 exchange in lieu of 514

lets see if anyone notices an extra goat added 3-27-08