Ride Lugged

Day 1 – 88km
(preride: 1.5 ham and cheese sandwiches, water, orange juice, slow release vitamin C capsule)
1 water bottle with energy drink, 1 with water
ham and cheese sandwich on buttered roll, 1 pack Clif Bloks
pork chop steak with potato wedges
2 - 17oz beers, 12oz Coke
2 cups of tea

Day 2 – 83km
2 egg omelette with ham and cheese, 1buttered roll with jelly, 1 with honey, wild berry breakfast cake, cup of tea, slow release vitamin C capsule
1 water bottle with energy drink, 1 with water
large block of fried cheese with french fries, 17oz beer, 10oz Coke
chocolate covered ice cream snack
2 more water bottles, 1 more wild berry breakfast cake
grilled chicken fillets in cream sauce with potato wedges, 2 - 17oz beers, 10oz Coke

Day 3 – 95km
2 buttered rolls with ham and cheese, small side salad, cup of tea, slow release vitamin C capsule
1 water bottle with energy drink, 1 with water
ham and cheese sandwich on buttered roll, 1 pack chocolate wafers
2 hot chocolates, Beef broth soup, small portion of fried meatloaf w/ spicy mustard, espresso, double shot of Becherovka
large ‘Mega-řizek’ pork steak, potato wedges, 17oz beer, 10oz Coke, Becherovka w/ currant juice

Day 4 – 104km
2 buttered rolls with jelly, 3 eggs scrambled with cheese, cup of tea, slow release vitamin C capsule
1 water bottle with energy drink, 1 with water, 1 pack Clif Bloks, 1 pack chocolate wafers
pork à la some Moravian sparrow with sauerkraut and potato dumplings, 17oz beer, 10 oz Coke
1.5 more water bottle
large portion of grilled pork ribs + side salad
1 bottle of local red wine

Day 5 – rest day
2 buttered rolls with ham and cheese, 1 with jelly, cup of tea, 2pc. strawberry breakfast cake, slow release vitamin C capsule
‘czech-style hamburger’ with tomato, cucumber, lettuce, & onion; 17oz beer, chocolate covered ice cream snack
olive, ham, and corn pizza; 10oz Coke
½ bottle of local red wine

Day 6 – 138km
1buttered roll with ham and cheese, 1 with jelly, 1 roll with honey, cup of tea, 2pc. strawberry breakfast cake, cream-filled doughnut, slow release vitamin C capsule
2 water bottles 1 pack Clif Bloks,
ham Pizza, 12oz Coke
1 more water bottle, 1 pack chocolate wafers
grilled chicken baguette, chocolate croissant, 12oz coke
3 – 17oz beers

1. to pedal a bicycle along the edge or gutter of a rugged or rutted path in an attempt to find less demanding, smoother passage. ex. I just rode 500km from Prague to Vienna, and some of the roads were so rough I had to paris-roubaix that shit.

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Mel has been riding some sugino xd 500s for a while now, but for some reason, no matter what, they get chain suck. not every ride, not every shift, but sometimes it happens. And its not her fault. I rode it and the same thing sporatically happens to me. What gives? Changed the rings, changed the chain… She knows how to shift… Anyway, I have been planning on getting rich and buying her either the white industries road double or a pair of TA cranks, set up as a wide range double. That would be minimum 200 bucks though, 200 bucks I dont have. Unless my couch is holding out on me.

Anyway, digging and shooting shit at freeze thaw the other day, and ran across some SR apex cranks. Never heard of them. Minor interweb research led me to believe they were introduced around 1980-1981, had a short market life, and the world moved onto the soon to be standard 11o BCD we all know and sort of love.

here they are, prior to some time with some polish and steel wool, and they still have all 3 rings

118 BCD, came stock with 48/46/28 rings, looked to have a low Q, used standard bolts, standard crank puller, SR made them so they were probally cold forged… nice finish and low wear despite the years in a dust pile. I traded a salsa stem for them, made them a wide range 46/28 double, and slapped them on Mel’s Atlantis.

they look sharp I think. more elegant than the sugino cranks. lighter, lower q.

Ahh lower Q factor. Mel doesnt really know or care about Q factor. But we went for a ride yesterday, and she said something like “why does my bike feel so fast?” also, perhaps more bizarre: “why do i feel more stretched out?” well, didnt know Q did that…. But check out the tread photo:

if this were the 1990s, and it was a basketball game and not a bike part set up thing, and you had made a basket from say, 3 yards beyond the 3 point line, you would say booyah.

OK what else?

Sorry, this post will just go on and on and on and on.

Mel hasnt been on a mtn bike for a while. Last summer. Like me. I suck, I bet she does too. Logs? Ahhhh! Ok so we took a cue from Rob’s Christine course. And set up some obstacles.

start with a rock garden. rock and brick garden that is. you cant not hit some rocks, its a good thing.

log. not big, not small, just right.

log pile with easy finish. for now.

really annoying square edged stutter bumps. ratchet pedal. ratchet!

tiny north shore thing. for balance and confidence building. ends in a drop off.

said drop off. note quality construction.

ends with a teeter totter. easy, but fun. to come: bigger logs, more rocks, a jump. Mel likes jumping.

What else?

Our power went out a while ago, and I decided to try to make an olive oil lamp. I used a tiny glass jar, a rag for a wick, olive oil, and a coat hanger. It worked pretty well, for a while. Then I dont think the kink in my hanger was tight enough. The flame just kept creeping closer to the olive oil.

would cino cinelli hate on me?

I’ve been working on yard salads: using mostly stuff from the yard to put in wraps, have for dinner, etc. I have added dandilion greens now, but this is what i generally use.

I’ve been reworking some images into quadtone images. Here is a sample image, in quadtone and a link to the flickr gallery where more live.

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By the light of the day the pimp’s yellow ochre suit is plain beige. The rotting wooden trailer out front is the same emerald green as the swing that sat under the willow tree for years after the willow had blown down in a windstorm, 15 feet from the porch where I slept, dead to the sound of the willow tree’s instant death. Now, 10 years later, a small willow grows from the base of the old tree’s trunk. The porch swing became art, the emerald green lending is patina to pieces about Abraham Lincoln and satellite radio. Memories are traded for cash and endorsed checks.

The porch furniture caught in the amber are invisible behind the dirty off white curtain, the illusion reserved for night rides only. The snake smell is just musty now, like a mouse dead in some remote corner of the house, reduced to powder and bones. There are no competitors out today, just the wind, heavy and high, pounding through every turn, making even the steepest downhills into high RPM chores. The splinter in my foot throbs on difficult climbs. The wrong foot placement could lead to a limp leg, as the pain shoots to the kneecap and saps it of structural strength. The lapis lazuli cascade has 3 kids playing in it, 2 teenage moms watch, bored. Not 6 years ago they were playing in that same stream. Now they just it watch it go by, the sparkling water holds no more interest than the latest congressional race, or the biker passing by, observing their life for 3 seconds at 27 mph.

I’m building miles slowly. Today I rode to school, and back, 6 miles total, and then my short local loop, 8 miles, then to the Giant, 3.5 miles, and then I’m heading back to school, 6 miles again, riding home in the dark at 11 or so. I’m eating a spoonful of ice cream a day, and loads of salad and grainy bits. I’m drinking lots of room temperature water, and extra fiber English muffins. My sweat has cooled to a dry powder on my forehead.

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A tale of two one point fives:

I have an idea, its not mine and I don’t remember who said it, but Sean’s recent comment brought it to mind again, and I’ll put the two thoughts together to make one newish thought.

I was always told to hold my handlebars loosely, like they were 1.5 times bigger than they actually are. This way, the bike and rider could react to bumps, and small directional changes, and still sort of auto–pilot its way through stuff. In other words, a loose grip actually meant more control, less wasted energy, and a more ‘ready for anything’ stance. I took this bit of wisdom and applied it. I loosesed up and found more control, less fatigue and more power for my legs, that otherwise would have gone to my hands and forearms. I could ride rigid and not be beat up. I could ride skinny tires off road. I could descend really nasty rocky stuff with crappy brakes and be ok. I ditched my fat oury grips and got big cheeze grips. They were smaller and harder, making it easier and more nessesary to loosen my grip. On my road bikes I switched from cork to cotton. Same deal. I can ride for dozens of miles and not experience numbness or a sketchy front end, because of how I hold my bars.

Instead of increasing headset diameter on road bikes (and don’t think its not coming to mtn bikes, or comfort bikes) why dont we re-teach this old chunk of wisdom. Let’s trade 1.5 inch headsets for theoretical 1.5x larger diameter handlebars. We could start by getting rid of all that gel tape nah nah, and foam pad hooo hoo and get people riding cinelli tape, or medium density stella or (gasp) cloth.

This would also expose undersized bikes, and poor riding positions. Lots of gel and saddle cut-outs do wonders for hiding bad bike fit. Its a win win situation. Really.

i was talking to a local rider and friend, and fellow penn state art program guy eric roman the other day. yesterday actually. and we were sitting at the table cory designed, and talking about people we knew, and found that we both knew a number of philly folks, and meg, so there meg, eric says hey. he held up his fingers, pressed them together and said “the east coast scene is still this big”, or something like that. imagine a fellow 11 years older than me but 40 lbs lighter, who only rides a singlespeed, and still races in the pro class, and has lots of tattoos, and you sort of get an idea of what he looks like. we were looking at my witcomb (was meg’s) and it has the new sachs new success cranks on it, which are sharp looking by anyone’s gauge. he told me they were made by campy using record (or was it chorus) molds, and just branded sachs, which made them sort of under the radar cool. really though, they are the most polished thing on the bike, so they arnt that under the radar. this makes me wonder though: should i be using a campy taper bottom bracket, because i am not, and have logged at least 200 miles on them, and they seem fine, stiff smooth low Q, and silver. eric said: they arnt light but butter never is, or something like that but more clever and off the cuff.

all of those thoughts stem out of me sitting here, next to mel (well she got up for something, oh a shot of slivovice, which stinks like medice, thanks cory, medice from 1932, in its original bottle. she’s back now, and reading the newest reader, with her tea and shot of czech booze. and i am looking at those cranks, which, sharp looking as they are, manage to look clunky next to my lyotard Berthet pedals. made of stamped steel, these pedals are somehow bigger, more comfortable, curvy, and lighter than any quill pedal out there, and their hollow stamped windows and swoopy lines remind me of a late 1930s roadster more than any other pedal i can think of. they look like they were drawn using a set of french curves, by a designer who only looked at war time alfa romeros. only alfa romeros didnt look that swoopy when the berthet pedal was invented in 1923ish. they make the otherwise super elegant sachs cranks look like overkill, huge cold forged arms, fat low pro spider. of course even these look lighter and more svelt than new campy stuff. outboard bearings never did anything positive to a bike’s aesthetic, which, i like to think is at least partially why sean goes through all that trouble to hide them. those ridges on the outside of the bearing shells (for external bbs not the vertigo ones) are cool like those sun shade visor things you see on the back windows of 85 iroc-Zs and mustangs. FLASH: they are called sun louvers, which makes them even more lame sauce in clown town, to combine a sean-ism and dave-ism. FLASH: mel just turned off the celtic music. thank god.

I recently picked up a cycling magazine that wasnt the reader, to prove that i keep up with the contemporary world madness of our times. in it found such treasure like 1.5 inch headsets for road bikes (ok they really didnt need to move beyond 1 inch, ok threadless if you are that guy, but 1.5 inch? functional advantages: now you and your bike can look like you dope. claimed advantages: stiffer front end for more positive cornering. now, i have to provide a disclaimer here: i’ve never ridden at 60+ down a huge mountain on a more or less perfectly smooth road on a course that has been precleared for obstacles. but i have descended down sketchy dirt roads at over 45 mph with a one inch threaded headset, a nitto stem with tons of quill showing, and 39cm wide bars that are over 40 years old, with centerpull brakes, and never once, not once, was i aware of, or concerned for front end deflection. and i am fatter than those racy dudes, and carry at least 10lbs in my handle bar bag. if anyone should feel it, it’s me. so it is at this point that i officially say: stop it. just stop it. stop it, please stop it. its gone beyond making me mad, it actually makes me tear up. i’m not planning on having kids, but this is the madness that future children will be born into. a culture that thinks of threaded steerers like you and i think about bushing chains: little if at all.

i was out riding today, just before dinner, a 12ish mile loop that takes me up some steep hills so i can get my singlespeed legs back on. i was riding my witcomb, traditional sized tubing, 1980s race geometry, 40cm bars, cloth tape, wheels that cory had on the second worst bike in the world, one speed. i was having an ok ride, not moving as fast as i was last night, when i saw the holy grail: two cyclists up ahead, roadies, climbing out of the saddle. catch them. that’s what to try to do. lately, my shape has been such that that would have been a pipe dream. but i sprinted, hard, and caught them, and blew past them, nicely, with a comment about the nasty headwind but the nice temps, and then tried to hold my lead. i had to beat them up the next climb (as soon as i passed them, they started after me, pride is a wonderful motivator) and down a series of steep, swooping descents, and then up a series of stepped climbs. I held my lead, my single speed being perfectly geared for out of the saddle mashing on this particular grade. i out descended them too, and perhaps by now they had given up. but no, right around the bend, there they were, sprinting out of the saddle on a flat. you don’t do that with gears unless you A. ‘ know how to ride or B. are trying to catch someone. Miraculously though, i had found the spin zone, and just sat and spun my tits off, as they say. held the lead for 6 miles. then i broke. my stomach developed a cramp you could sell to the CIA for interrogation purposes. my legs turned to mush. i almost fell off the bike from the cramp it was so bad. it was like getting shot with a .22 at close range but without the click bang. it was like having a guy inside of you crash his 4 inch buick lesabre into your colon. it hurt. i wobbled on my bike. i paid for my lead. i came home and did unspeakable things to the bathroom. i’m getting ready to race.

So you may have seen a post last year about some training obstacles I set up in my backyard to help Christine improve her bike handling skills. This year I added another rock/log pile for her to crawl over and she tried it out today. Here’s the shots…

The course overall…over one pile, around the tree, and over another pile…(while dodging the bushes and clothesline)

Upclose of the older pile…

Christine on the approach…

Up and over…

This little training course in our backyard is an excellent lunch break escape…it’s really improving her bike handling skills and more importantly, her confidence.
Thanks to Casey for the bike on loan.
Please don’t let the fork comments outweigh the cheers of encouragement for Christine’s riding.
Rob

So Hutch ventured around on the wooden velociped today. This was the first time he actually spent more than thirty seconds on it. He pittered around the yard and driveway for like a half an hour! He even tackled the obstacle course I set up for Christine’s mountain bike training in the backyard (I’ll reveal those pics in another post). He went all over the place and I was almost more amazed by watching how the thing teaches balance than I was by what he was doing on it.
Here’s some shots….trying to be artsy…

The velociped power…

Finding his stationary balance point…

Posing on his bike…

Motoring around the yard…

Flashing the look…

Tackling the obstacle course…

I’ve got some video footage of him rolling around too. I’ll post the link to it in the comments section once I get it up on my YouTube channel. He definitely makes us proud.
MOTIVATOR!
Rob

so the 24 hours of big bear is coming up. 2 months in which to lose 50 lbs, learn how to grind for 2 hour internals, and to make incredibly complicated lists and prepatory plans. last year i took a series of steps to make life more comfortable at the camp, including but not limited to: bringing a giant blue tarp that took the better part of a day to set up, and then took the rest of the day and night to maintain due to high winds, a hollow core door table with sawhorse legs, and huge wood clamps to clamp down the stove, paper towels, ect. it was the most planned trip yet. and it payed off, although it took over 2 days to fully set up. practical? schmactical. not tactical. wackticle? yes. wackticle. wackticle.

as you can see from my handy diagram, there is always a big mess, big waste of door/counter space, etc. this lead me to remember that thing called boy scouts, you know, where you light small trees on fire and stuff them into latrines, or maybe you remember it as your first introduction to smut. or perhaps you remember it as the time that you told the newbie to put his tent on the ant hill, or the low ground in a rain storm, or put logs under the scout master’s tent to improve his sleeping ergonomics. whatever your memories might be, one that almost all cool scouts share is the memory of the chuck box, which lesser troops called the patrol box. we were more democratic than that. now even though my troop, 443, thought that winning the klondike derby was simply a matter of stealing the other troops flags and burying them in the woods, we did know how to wield a power tool. or at least someone’s dad did. we had the nicest, heaviest, most tiger tank-esque chuck boxes this side of a d-day pill box. i think the guy who put them together adhered to the following rules: the box must contain as much plywood as possible. normal patrol boxes might take 1-1.25 sheets of plywood. our had at least 4 sheets, as well as all brass hardware taken from a clipper ship, and sized appropriately. our hinges alone weighed more than a coleman stove and 2 weeks of fuel.

the carpenter also thought that if 4 scouts were needed to carry a normal patrol box, and more is better, why not make it so that at least 8 scouts were needed, plus a sixteen scout relief crew. inevitably, our camp grounds were muddy or snowy, or perferably both, so footing was dubious at best, and scouts constantly fell and were tramped by the remaining 7. you couldnt stop, or the whip would fall! when camp was finally set up, there was the inevitable roll call, and the ‘where’s robbie?’ questions. well. we never found him. presumably the mud got him.

if it wasnt raining, sleeting, and or well below freezing, we werent camping. what were we doing? practicing knots. not! ohhhhhhhhhhh that was bad. mainly we watched robbie chew (true story) on the asbestos columns that supported the ceiling the squalid basement that was our troop headquarters. that was before the mud got him. then later, brandy johnson got him. but thats a different story, involving bad haircuts, knife fights, and assault rifle wake up calls.

right so, chuck boxes are fantastic.  instead of schelping  (spell check starmer?) 4 boxes of supplies, a table, saw horses, clamps, and so on, you can make a really heavy wooden box that has compartments to organize everything, and becomes a ’strong like bear’ table.  also, chuck boxes have room for the kitchen sink.  er the camp kitchen sink.  we always brought two tupperware bins for the dishes.  tight.  so i have been pining for a chuck box for a while now, not unlike how i sometimes pine for cheap gold colored bolos and scratchy polyester knee high socks.

i sat down, did some net research, poured a dram for my fallen scouts, and drew up some plans.  i happen to have a grade A- piece of maple plywood in the shed.  its appropriately heavy, although i’m sure i’ll have to add some ballast.

FYI, starmer has one that sounds appropriately huge and hard to use, but claims we dont have the man power to move it.  i suggested he crank out a few dozen kids in time for the race, or at least steal them from mexico.  his response is pending.

then eats yellow snow.

iron-E seems to have johnson pinned to the cold hard facts of reality wet soggy ground.

our hero can hardly breath under the weight of such literary deviciveness

but victory is never far, and johnson stands triumpant, yellowing iron-e

savagely

what what? victory

mmm yellow

To readers of this blog that may be concerned:

The poster known as 5dollarbud, aka a4nick8tor, aka Big Killa N, aka Golden Balls, aka Kung Fu Jimmy is currently on holiday in Prague, CZ.

He appologizes for not notifing sooner and wonders if it would be possible to meet any other posters on this blog before Thursday when he leaves.

He can be contacted at his usual email, or by his swedish mobile (+46 70 fourseveneight fourfouronetwo), or by calling the hotel (+420 296 889 688)

kthanks!