After endless sunny days, the moment our racing starts the sky opens up. My rollers were pointed in the direction of the oncoming black death in the sky, so I had the opportunity to watch it bear down on us. That big beast moved fast. Couldn't have been more than a half-hour between total sun and drowning in rainwater. I'm not talking Portland drizzle, this was violent rain.

Bummer deal. I've been doing quicker and quicker times since I did the 10.6, so I was ready to see what I could do on race day with good conditions. Instead we sat, tried to wait it out, watched endurance freakjob Colby Pearce play with his iPhone, eventually left, and ate ourselves to sleep.


Nerd alert!



This is how sprinters clean thier bikes.

DT

tired today.

This center is so huge, today was the first time I've seen the south end of it. Went to Sports Medicine to get an ice pack and was almost run over by a 30 person tour group. We live on the North end of the complex, behind huge ABSOLUTELY NO VISITORS signs, but a good deal of the support facilities and gyms are on the South end, in what people call the 'fishbowl.' For instance; one wall of our lifting room is a bank of glass windows. Tours run through the South end of the complex every hour, so at least once every workout we become a zoo exhibit. At first I found it a bit annoying, but it's not so bad if you have fun with it. Adam made a big show of doing some bicep curls with a pink plastic 1 pound dumbell, straining and huffing and puffing like a jerk. I just tried not to hurt myself in front of the tourists.

Watched the Juniors do a Kierin last night. Everyone in the group has thier targets set squarely on the back of the punk who won. The guy is plenty fast to win it the right way, but he insisted on racing like a juiced-up wrestler. Throwing unnecessary chops and putting everybody else at risk just so he could look cool. Should be good when he races with the seniors on the 4th.

Trini and I got locked into a giant Mario Kart-off last night, which lasted well into the morning hours. You've never seen true cut-throat competition till youve seen a bunch of Olympians trying to hit each other with turtles and bannanas in a four-way geek-out. I thought Sarah Hammer was going to eat us if she got knocked out of the match at one point. Adam Duvendeck was crowned Girliest Girl of the OTC after he couldn't stop letting pre-pubescent shreiks fly every time he got in trouble. He was so offended he went out and immediately slept with the first 20-something sports-med intern girl he found. I only made it to the quarterfinals, but I'm giving it all tonight.

Here's some pitchers.


Trini in my way, trying to capture the essence.



Blatch and Aaron Kacala, Gut-Off '07


Some idiot, Blatch, Trini, and junior enduro phenom (imposter) Kit Karzen


There it is. There's the essence.

DT

Did some race-wheel TT's today to get an idea of how everyone is going. I had no idea what to expect, since I've never even done a 200 on this track. First lap on the track I hear that horrible psssstftpssstft sound coming from my disk. Awesome. Des let me borrow a Zipp disk for the session, which was cool, but I missed my sweet white Campy straight away. We started with a couple of flying 100m sprints to see how fast everyone can turn on the power. I suprised myself by sticking within a short tenth of Blatch and Trini.

By the way. Junior nationals starts tommorow and there are 180 people registered. That means that although we have the track for our workout, there are more people hanging out in the stands than at most weekly races. Makes for an interesting atmosphere for a workout.

After 2 max efforts comes the 200m. Des is was happy with how things were going at that point, so he turns up the motivation: "If anyone goes 10.5 I'll take you all out to Mongolian Grill." MMmm. We can all taste the delicious heaps of beef, noodles, chicken, grilled veg... Now everybody needs it. Must have. Must do. I've been doing about 11.8 at Alpenrose. I figured our surface would add about a half second, which would give me 11.2. That in mind, I wanted to do a good time, but I was looking to the other guys to break into the 5's. Chris rides a 10.9. Solid time. I think for sure I'm gonna be at the back of the group today. I roll up, ride a sweet line and everything comes together for a 10.6. Fastest I've ever done. Des is so happy he runs up and wraps me in a big hug. It was tough to smile while I was still gulping oxygen-less air, but I was definitely psyched. Trini tops it with a 10.55 and Blatch finishes us all off with a 10.50.

I ate so much I went past the point of full and straight back to hungry. I think I won dinner.

You know how when anyone ever leaves home for a while, they always say "the first thing I do when I get home is *blank*"? First thing I do when I get home (after planting a big wet one on Jenny) is go directly to Stumptown, order up a couple Esspressos and enjoy a good coffee again. That's my one complaint about this place. The coffee is horrible. Comes out of a machine. You have to drink three cups of it to equal one Stumpy's. Yeah I know, they're trying to ween me off the bean so to speak, but I'm not going without a fight.

Speaking of coffee. The kitchen here is pretty funny. You have 5 or 6 choices of main dish at every meal with all the works. Thing is, everything has a sign above it that announces what you're eating. The page also lists the exact caloric content, fat content, saturated fat, protein, cholesterol, etc. At the top of the page, under a Olympic logo, is the phrase "every athlete has a dream, and every choice makes a difference." On every food choice. Come on. All I want right now is some ice cream and you're making me feel guilty about it. Jerks.

DT

Did you know that the 2008 Olympics are only 407 days away? I do. I'm reminded daily. Everywhere I look there are posters of memorable American Olympic performances, advertisements for Olympic games past, and reminders of the Big Beijing Shimmy. The computer I'm typing on happens to have a full color artist's rendering of the Laoshan Velodrome... which looks a little like this:

Kinda flying saucerish, eh?
A person could easily never leave this place for months, this village of motivation, support and seemingly impossible amounts of work.

Day 2 of workouts and I'm feeling wrecked. Been trying to keep pace with Trini, my roomate, which is no easy feat. Did I mention he's done 2 years of international competition? Rode a 10.2 at Moscow? Dude's fast. More importantly, he's also hilarious. The stuff that comes out of that Jamaican's mouth is enough entertainment, I might as well push the TV out our window. It's like a drunk, male Miss Cleo after smoking a couple gallons of PCP.

Gym sessions remind me of football practice. Tons of dynamic plyometrics, medicine ball work, box jumps, shuttle runs, windsprints, etc. Thought our strength trainer Jason was gonna kill me if I didn't beat Trini in the shuttle sprints.

I've been crowned with the title of Whitest Kid on the Block. Blatchford used to own the title hands down, but looks like he's stepping aside for a new champ. Also happen to be the skinniest sprinter this side of anywhere... Which is funny. After spending the winter locked in the gym I kept hearing people at the track go "hey you got bigger," "you gained some power this winter eh?" Here it's like I'm back in school. Skinny white kid.

Haven't been able to take a single picture yet. Too sore to walk anywhere but to food and bed. Probably should start taking it out on evening road rides. That's the only time I get to see anything other than the campus.

General impressions from the staff is I'm right about where they thought I would be. Which is good. Had a panic attack on the bus from the airport that I would show up, ride like a chump and be sent home with a "thanks, we'll call ya." Granted it's only day two, but things look good so far...

DT

landed...

...at the Training Center last night. Had a headache within an hour. Coach says it'll probably last a couple days with our workout load. No worries. Tried to drown it in coffee this morning, but now I'm just amped beyond control just in time to head to the gym.

The facilities here are pretty nuts. Could get very addictive to have everything taken care of, from laundry to food to transport to medical to massages to everything in between. Rooming with Jamaican sprinter Ricardo Lynch. Nicest guy in town, probably.

Kind of nuts to be around so many world class athletes. Weight lifters, vollyballers, gymnasts, wrestlers, swimmers, even a couple of shooters. The track cyclist camp is pretty small. Just 5 of us really. Seemed almost like high school again at breakfast this morning. Us at the trackie table scoping out the room. Mike Blatchford, Adam Duvendeck and Ricardo know just about everybody here, I'm still operating on advice and good guesses.

Time to lift. I'll try to get some pics up later.

DT

it's saturday!

it is for me anyway...

the hurt box

Two workouts a day while still working at the shop sucks the big one. Yeah, I know it'll make me fast and all that, but until I get used to it, it sucks. Take yesterday for example. Was up earlier than early to do some standing starts at the track before work. Had some food when I got to the shop at 8 or so, then got so wrapped up in work stuff that the only thing I ate or drank before riding to PIR was a piece of chicken and a cup of coffee. Real smart. Carbs? Don't need em. Hydration? overrated.
Led Big Brad out for a sprint and finished off one of my own after a screamin leadout by ANT and Kirk, and things seemed to be going pretty good. Then the cramps started. I could feel it starting in my calves and working up to my hamstrings. So against my more aggressive judgement I called it a day with 6 to go, pulled the pin and rode home. I figure theres no sense in wrecking tommorows workout by going into full cramp mode for the World Champs of PIR.

Rode home with Officer Curl, where we got the news by Bat Phone that there was a nasty pile up as soon as we left. Suddenly I felt great about leaving. With my luck I would've been right behind it, hurt myself and missed my trip to the training center. No PIR's worth that. No matter what a bunch of old men say.

Rode the first part of the State Champs last weekend. It was moist. Seriously. We started the day with a rain delay, and did hour or two sessions in between the two other rain delays before the whole day was cancelled. Laid down a decent 200 to get the top seed, despite being completely out of control the entire time. I was bleeding in two places after my 200. That's how bad it was. Smacked my knee on my stem and rubbed some skin off my knuckle on the rail. Out of control. All the ride went well, especially my race vs. Brain Abers. It was an old-school smackdown. Very little drag-racing, very much wrestling for control. More hooks and chops than a pirate ship. For some reason, this sequence from the movie Top Gun popped into my head:

Charlie: Well, if you were directly above him, how could you see him?

Maverick: Because I was inverted.

Iceman: [coughs whilst saying] Bullshit.

Goose: No he was man, it was a really great move. He was inverted.

Charlie: You were in a 4g inverted dive with a MiG28?

Maverick: Yes ma'am.

Charlie: At what range?

Maverick: Um, about 2 meters.

Goose: It was actually about 1 and a half I think. It was 1 and a half, I've got a great Polaroid of it, and he's right there, must be 1 and a half.

Maverick: Was a nice picture.

Goose: Thanks.

Charlie: Eh lieutenant, what were you doing there?

Goose: Communicating.

Maverick: Communicating. Keeping up foriegn relations. You know, giving him the bird!

Goose: [Charlie looks puzzled, so Goose clarifies] You know, the finger
[gestures apprpriately]

Bummer thing is, because it's rained out, they had to reschedule the finals and the kierin. The date they chose happens to be the day before my wedding. Which happens to be the day of our rehearsal. Dammit.

Ed Norton took some sweet pictures, posted at his sweet website Stopping Time This one rules. This is about a half-second before the door to that lane slams shut.

buy my beans

Ever wondered what a Team Rubicon Blend coffee tastes like? Me neither. Now that I think about it, seems like it should taste like Muchas Gracias, sports drinks and PBR. And maybe some blood. Seriously though, taste the rainbow and buy the Official Team Rubicon Blend Coffee, made by the awesome people at Portland Roasting.

No really, we have coffee and it's great. I challenge you to try some. Actually I challenge you to buy some, then try it, then buy some more. 10 bucks a pound, which if you know your way around a locally hand roasted bean, is a pretty good deal.

It'll be sold everywhere you see skinny guys in Orange racing other skinny guys. Places like Mt. Tabor for instance. Maybe even a PIR here and there, who knows.
Just look for the mildly sketchy looking scruffy guy named "dave" and ask him if you can grab his beans. Do it. If you can't find him, ask around. If you're shy, email trubicon@comcast.net. If you can't handle that, then bummer, you lose.

DT

night-time pre-final update

this whale is tougher than you

New links on the right somewhere. Chader's faster than you. Trust me. And Ms. Littlefaster is getting a littlefaster these days. Soon she's gonna get a wayfaster so watch out.

Oh and Russel Stevensen is addicted to meth and I have proof.

leavin on a jet plane

Headed to Colorado Springs to spend a couple of weeks at the Olympic Training Center with my new coach Des Dickie. I'll be riding with a couple of sprinters who are much, much faster than me, so I might die. But I hope not. If I do, I want my tombstone to say something clever, so get to work.

schools almost over, schools almost over...

One more week. Just one more and this degree is DONE.

Just one more week.

Two finals a big fat paper and one shift at Vancouver Fire...

One week.

DT

so...

Are you bored? Have you done your workout today? How about your homework? Feed the cat? Water the plants? Kozy'd the Shack? All done? Sweet. You should come with me to see Rembrandt And Pals at the Portland Art Museum. Or PAM if you like. Then let's head to OMSI to check out some dead people. Then maybe if school's still in session we'll all take the train up to the Zoo and throw rocks at some bears, because we're humans, the master species, and we can do stuff like that.

DT

put out an "amber alert"

Cool Thing Of The Day: Watching one of our mechanics take his first ride on a bike he built. I'm not talking 'built' like buy a frame and buy a bunch of parts and put it all together. I'm talking 'built' like make a bunch of drawings, do some geometry wizardry, take a bunch of steel tubes, painstakingly arrange and weld them together, spend a few months fillet-brazing the thing to perfection then putting some parts on it and it's a bike. This was the first frame he ever built, he took his time with it and it looks great. It was a fanfareless but very cool little event in our small corner of the world. When you spend a good portion of your life working on bikes slapped together by machines in far-eastern mega-factories, the day you ride something built by your own hands is a pretty cool deal.

Un-Cool Thing Of The Day: Some worthless idiot stole our shop demo Trek 69er off of the roof rack of an employees car. Which was parked in our parking lot. While we were open. Who does that? Here's the good bit: That bike's pretty new. So new, that we have not sold a single one. We are the only dealer within 200 miles that sells that bike. With a 26in wheel in the back, a 29in wheel in the front, a gigantic triple crown fork and a crazy bronze anodized frame, it is very distinctive. Seriously. You can't miss it. And some idiot has the only one. Here's what it looks like by the way.

By noon today every pawn shop and used bike shop in town will have a picture and serial number, so when the idiot tries to sell it, he'll get arrested and we'll get the bike back. If the bike shows up on Craigslist of Ebay, game over. Same result. If the idiot takes it to Forest Park, he'll get jumped by one of the 10 shop guys who commute through the park, get beaten with a frame pump and then get arrested. So if you see this bike, it's ours. And we want it back.

DT

whoopin up.

The US team officially crushed all at the Pan Am games. Everyone's favorite mulleted Team Peestream/Chipatople rider Brad Huff pulled off the big one in the Omnium, then followed it up with another win in the madison with none other than the newly un-retired Colby Pearce. Blatchford slayed all challengers to win the sprint, then teamed up with Duvendeck and Selker to show everyone who's boss in the Team Sprint. They convinced everyone but the Cubans, who were so unimpressed, they beat the boys by 6 tenths. Jennie Reed was numero uno in the Kierin, then silvered in the sprint behind another wicked fast Cuban.

Whatever. They're all in trouble when Ping-Pong gets his new track bike figured out.

Tuckerman's 3 minutes back at Hood going into the last big climbing stage. Good luck ANT. Don't go blocks.

Waiting anxiously for a letter from Seattle. Any day now.

If Zabel's a doper, I'm done with pro road racing. That corner of the sport's a mess.

It's hot in this east-facing apartment, with it's giant winows and poor circulation. The sun heats up the concrete blocks and turns this place into a pizza oven. No AC. Just window fans, ice cubes and muscle shirts.

DT

foto-blahggin'

Jenny and I made the epic drive up to Winthrop on thursday to spend the weekend with Solomon and Brandy in a solar-powered, outhouse-equipped cabin in the woods. Did some good rides, ate some good food, drank a couple of good drinks, and generally decompressed. Thier "driveway" was really just a couple miles of goat-path which cuts straight up the side of a mountain.



You step outside the door in the morning and you are alone. Very alone. Quite the change from the downtown apartment.




Good morning. Coffee, velonews and not much else.



One advantage of living where they do is the security of it all. Some people get all excited about never locking thier doors. How about leaving race bikes on the covered porch and sleeping outside every night? The master bedroom is a roofed and mosquito-netted deck on the side of the house.



Sometimes you're sitting on the porch just relaxing, talking about the world and you get the undeniable urge to shoot some stuff. Do you live way out in the middle of nowhere? Do you have a CO2 powered BB gun and some empty budweisers? If yes, then let that hick-flag fly high and take some shots, my friend.



There's more where that came from.
DT

shop of the stars...

For a rainy monday, we were at an 11 on the rock star-o-meter. First the singer for chick-band formerly known as Sleater Kinney stopped by to get a flat fixed. Pete almost peed himself. Then the singer for Kaddisfly dropped by for a new tube. Then Colin Meloy from the Decemberists had to show everyone up by breezing through to buy matching Amsterdams for him and his girlfriend. He came up to ask me where the helmets were and I couldn't remember. The haven't been moved in two years. Couldn't even remember my name. I think I mumbled something about a mariner's revenge and stumbled off. All in all, he's a nice guy with a nice girlfriend, who had to borrow a truck from his guitarist because he doesn't own a car.

Another Swan Island crit went down the tubes on Sunday. I rode there and back, so of course it pissed rain all the way there, rained even harder during, and even harder when I struggled over Skyline afterwards. The race itself was pretty average. About 40 Team Hamburglar guys tried to do the Rubicon TTT by getting a big group of thier own off the front, but just ended up attacking and chasing each other all day. I tried a couple of moves, but each time was so far in the redzone I knew it would go nowhere. So they effectively kept themselves from getting a group together and it all comes down to a field sprint. I find Casey and Gephart's wheel, the laps count down and off we go. Mr. Too Vanilla himself is leading out Gephart. Coming into the last sweeping right hander, I launch around on the left and just as I overlap with Skerrit he blows and goes LEFT pretty hard. I'm screaming my head off (which at the time probably came out as a barely audible "hhrraaaiiiiiieeee" type whimper), I steer into a wet manhole cover and I'm going sideways into the outside curb. I closed my eyes, clicked my Nikes three times and said "there's nowhere like home" and when I opened my peepers, I'm uright and rolling down the finish straight, watching the sprint unfold. Skerrit says he never saw me. I say he owes me one.

Tuckerman finished 3rd overall in Arkansas. That's huge. It's huge-tastic. Huge-tacular. huge. Sounds like a weekend of big sacrifice from the team. I'll post more when I hear it straight from the boys.

I might be racing somewhere in Trinidad in a red, white and blue skinsuit next month. Not sure of any dates, or even if I'm going for sure, but I'm in total panic-training mode either way... Fingers crossed.

DT

Tuckerman wins!

He may not be a pretty man, but he's a pretty quick little bugger.

Awesome. That's too cool for school.

just chillin

This is what it's like to hang out with Curry and Tuckerman. Wake of destruction

wack attack

In the mood to cause a hipster heart-attack at stumptown? Roll up on this. Maybe with some pink rims.

DT

Hoy Polloi

So Chris Hoy jumped head-first into the hurt-box in Bolivia a few days ago. The guy already has the sea-level world kilo record, but he wanted the absolute record that frenchie Arnaud Tournaut holds of 58.875 at altitude. 15,000 feet of hot, nasty altitude.

After 2 attempts he missed by .05 seconds. Draaaag. Train for years, dedicate your life to a dying niche of the sport, spend a few months doing intervals in a hyperbaric chamber, fly to La Paz, put your one-directional front wheel on backwards and miss the record by a hair.

That's a lovely little what if to think about for the rest of your life.

DT

back to school

yeah, i know you said you'd never set foot in another high school gymnasium ever again, but this might be a good reason to give it another go.

I may get annoyed with some of the ones that mope around in front of the convenience store by my house smoking crappy ciggarettes and begging me to buy them beer, but big ups to an awesome group of kids from Lincoln High for taking matters into thier own hands and staging one of the best fundraisers ever.

I can see the brainstorming session:
**students**
"our music department sucks"
"yeah, it sucks"
"i wish we had a recording studio so we could record emo records"
"yeah"

**teacher**
"conservatives dont want to pay taxes for you to have music education, or for me to make a decent wage. sucks doesn't it? that's life so get used to it. I need a drink"

**students**
"that sucks"
"yeah"
"we should have a fundraiser"
"yeah"
"carwash?"
"nah. too wet"
"rummage sale?"
"nah. i don't want to sell my Wii"
"bake sale?"
"nah, my cook wouldn't be into that"
"silent auction?"
"nah. boring"
"concert in the gymnasium with two of the best bands in the entire city?"
"sweet idea"
"wicked"
"yeah let's do that"
"cool, my dad knows a guy"

DT

sliding on your back

at wicked fast speeds sucks.

frenchies

Found a New York Times at the coffee shop this morning on my way to work. Big noise about the French elections, the continuing failure of the Socialists to get anything together and the newly elected ultra-conservative pro-business anti-fun Nicolas Sarcozy-shack. The thing that struck me was the turnout. 84 percent of the french voted. 84 percent.

In 2004 we set records for 60 percent of the US getting off thier lazy asses to vote. In 2000 we managed a pathetic 52 percent. According to Newsweek's latest poll, Bushie's approval rating is 28 percent. 72 percent of the country doesn't like him but only 52 percent bothered to even vote? And of that 52 percent only 51 percent of that actually voted against him? Wierd. People suck.

Speaking of people who suck.

DT
p.s. next time I will only write about awesome stuff, happy sunflower meadows and reckless behavior.

Go HomeTeam

Bend's favorite roadie son Chris Horner makes good.

shop notes

I thought I would make it to Burnaby this time around... No dice.
Even with a free place to stay, the day off work and the forty gallons or so of gas at 3 and a half bucks a pop makes the whole deal a bit impossible. Weak sauce.

Come on Portland indoor velodrome, come to daddy.

Drove to Seattle to beg for a sweet job from some men in white shirts on Sunday. Interviews never feel like they went great, so it's hard to say how it'll all end up. I find out in a month.

Next race on the schedule is the great Swan Island Crit. Guess I should put my road bike back together...

DT

Gay Top Gun

Quentin Tarantino tells it like it is.

no pity in the rose city

If I wasn't a bike racer, I'd be a soccer player...

Watched the Timbers smash Puerto Rico 3-1 at PGE last night with 7800 others. It was a night for the hooligans. I've never seen a match get so violent. After we scored in the opening minutes and doubled it before the half, the Puerto Ricans got pissed and didn't hide it. Multiple fights broke out across the field and by the looks of it, the home boys have been working on thier Kung Fu.

The Army was too big for thier traditional section 107, and ended up sprawling out into 4 others including ours. What a manic atmosphere. 60 percent total chaos and 40 percent sychronized madness. The songs, the flags, the GIANT flags, the chants, the screaming. All while surrounded by cops and PGE officials, but nobody seems to care. The Army really is an army this year. Flyers were passed around for a convoy of busses heading to seattle for a showdown on May 5th. That could get wonderfully messy.

DT

T minus a couple weeks or so...

Track racing's almost upon us again. In May the circus begins again. Big events are afoot in Canada during the first weekend; big races, big fields, big beer garden, maybe even some cold hard cash. I'd love to make it up to the glo-worm velodrome if the financial stars can align themselves and someone gives me some floorspace to pass out on at night. Might have a place with Chader, but he has to check and make sure if its all right with his dog or something...

Once again. Raining. On track workout day. Fcuk.

Anyone up for a puddle-cruise up Forest Park? Single-speed mountain bikes? Maybe a night raid? We could blast up to skyline on the knobby tires, slide back down in full panic brake-lock, charge into town and park our bikes next to the harleys stacked up at Starbucks on 23rd and loudly critique the monstrosities for thier wastefullness and laziness. Could be a good time. Think about it.

DT

someone give Moninger a sandwich

seriously

the sea clam report

I didn't go to the Grand Sea Clam Pro Cycling Nascar Classic in monterey last weekend, but some of our skinnier guys were there, and they were all over it.

I did the Laguna Seca Shimmy when I was a much smaller junior lad, and I can tell you, that course is not even close to fun. Everyone always talks about "corkscrew this" and "corkscrew that" and "oh you gotta watch out for crashes," but by my memory, that's a bunch of crap. In order to get to the corkscrew you have to come up this steep bastard of a hill (which is way bigger than it looks on TV) so once you hit the corkscrew descent you're crosseyed anyway, and then once you actually go down it, you realize that it's probably only fun at about 200 miles an hour. Nice wide, smooth, easy corners that wind down to a 180 and back around to the front straight, which just means that you'll be heading back up that stupid hill in a couple of seconds flat. So if you're on a rediculously powerfull motorcycle or a fantastically expensive car, it's probably great. Maybe even hair-raising. On a bike however, I have a trickier commute home from work.

That doesn't stop the marketers from touting the Sea Clam Classic as the greatest race ever to grace the face of the world, and it continues to pull huge sponsorship dollars, tons of people and lots of industry bigwigs with deep pockets. So a result at the Sea Clam is a big deal. Which is cool, because the Rubicon guys pulled a big result.

Aaron Skeletor Tuckerman rode like a man possed with a bike racer, bridged a bunch of gaps, successfully didn't crash and even managed to drop last year's winner Andy Badjadali in the closing laps by flexing his diminutive little buttcheeks and attacking on the hill, eventually finishing 5th. Brad apparently showed some power-cards by shuttling Tuckie around all day, with Logan doing his part as well. Dan and Kirk overcame gravity to place very well, 10th and 19th respectively. Matt Brandt snagged 18th and the Best Young Rider award, and Richard kept his current streak alive by running into some mechanical issues. Hopefully he can shake the curse sometime before Hood.

The boys even found time to chat with some schoolkids about racing, foreigners and that kind of stuff. I spent my weekend glaring at kids trying to ride big-wheels into stacks of carbon road bikes. The books show we had a record weekend at the shop, which is cool. My brain says that I need to sleep, but what does it really know? I have a three hour Codes and Ordinances class tonight, should be plenty of time to catch up on the zzz's.

DT

midday sale update

I am surrounded by oceans of screaming children who seem like they should be too old to be pitching fits in bike shops. Lines of unusually irritated people waiting for cashiers stretch for miles. Head full of static.

Sea Otter is on. It's on like Donkey Kong. Godspeed to all the boys. Stay upright and impress someone willing to donate some hard earned money to a struggling development team.

More kids. Jesus where do all these kids come from? Is birth control going out of style?

the writing is on the wall

Kurt Vonnegut died today.

These things always seem to happen at the end of good days. So it goes, as the man would say.

If you haven't read Player Piano, Slaughterhouse Five or Cats Cradle, pick one up at Powells some time. It'll be worth it. In fact, get them all. You don't need to watch American Idol (americans idle?) that much anyway.

"Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why."

"I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center."

"I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different."
-KV

DT

this week may be a death march

Come one, come all, it's time once again for the Bike Gallery's Big Giant Super Mega Spring Sale To End All Sales.
Happy times.
Seems like we're busy enough without it lately, the store has been smacked by too-frequent waves of madness for weeks. It's a tight rope to walk, being at a shop known for giving cutomers individual attention while there are three times as many customers as salespeople. Most people are understanding of the fact that we have a lot on our plate, but some still think they are the only humans in the store. Possibly in the world. Must be upsetting to realize otherwise...

In the fantasy land known as Bicycle Racing, some people did some crit this weekend. Boat Street Crit I'm told. I did it a few years ago, was brought down in a big fat 20-person crash and snapped a couple of brand new carbon wheels that my parents had saved up for. Bad memories of a sketchy corner, always wet. Haven't been back since. Conveniently, I had to work.

Sounded like the boys were on fine form. They even kept up thier amazing rate of two crashes per crit. Last weekend it was myself and Richard, this weekend it was Dan and Skeletor. Dan The Man flexed his left butt-cheek and broke his chain into a million little peices and launched himself over his bars and Tuckerman probably pulled the other standard Skeletor move (aside from attacking from the gun, which he had already done by this point) and crashed all by himself off the front. Probably tried to ignore the simple laws of physics by trying to enter a 90 degree corner at about a hundred and ten miles per hour. "oh I'm a mountain biker with a funny haircut, I can make it."


The face of sorrow, the legs of strength. That chain never stood a chance. Neither did the jersey.

The rest of the boys miraculously stayed upright and finished well. Brad made it out of the sick bay and on to the bike, leaving Adam all alone in the quarantine. Matt Brandt gets 3 gut points for wearing white gloves, but those points are canceled out by the negative three gut points Kirk gets for racing with his shorts rolled up to his crotch in the J Dangle position. Kenny Williams heard the cash registers ringing and took the sprint ahead of Kirk, keeping his title of "fastest old guy in Seattle" firmly planted on the mantle. Pretty sure that guy will be winning 1/2 crits up there when he's 80. Pure machine that guy is.

Sea Otter's up next for the unemployed. I'll start racing when the temperatures get above 70.

DT

p.s. Pic's from the fastest eye in the west, Amara Boursaw. You should buy lots of pictures from her at www.wheelsinfocus.com. Put them on your walls, put them on your fridge, put them on your pets, put them on your kids, buy that picture of Dan and put it on a t-shirt and be the envy of all your friends.

i think i just wet myself

One Step Closer

That. Just. Happened.

Eugene went pretty well. We brought the noise.

The race consisted of maybe 30 people tops. Pretty low turnout, but that's what you get with a not-so-interesting course in March touting 200 bucks split 5 deep.

Tuckerman was told not to attack from the gun at least 23 times the night before, so I was pretty proud of him for waiting for about 5 minutes to make his bold move. By ten minutes into the race we had four guys doing a team time trial off the front with no other teams represented.
Happy times.
There was much gnashing of teeth and whining "there goes the race" from the back. The boys got the lap, I sat in the back, got tired by doing nothing and messed up the sprint for 5th, despite being handed the world's most beautiful leadout by Kirk. Good thing 200m sprints don't take an hour...

Guess it's par for the course. You spend all winter working on pure strength and track speed, and your endurance goes out the window. No worries. I'll get mine when the avc rolls around.

So we ended up with 1st 2nd 3rd and 4th. True to Rubicon form, we also managed to rack up 2 crashes on the day. Yours truly won the idiot award for crashing in the parking lot before the race. Who knew that looking down at your bottom bracket while riding toward a concrete parking barrier was a bad idea? One minute I'm riding along wondering "what's that noise?" and the next minute I'm on my back wondering "why am I in a bush?"

The best part was that everyone was there to see it. I thought it was pretty hilarious.

Dan and Richard did a deadly dance with 15 laps to go and Richard ended up surfing pavement with Beardsley on top of him. Sheepherder Speer took a good one to the back of the head and lost a few college classes, but was otherwise fine.

Sounds like Piece of Cake was a little harder than the name implies. Reports range from "a little gusty" to "gale-force winds." I spent the day in the shop, but Tuckie spent it off the front with So Pro Dougie O and Mick Walsh. Poor guy was probably getting blown around like a reciept in the wind. That's what happens when you come to the states about as thick as an Olson twin. He ended the day a solid third. New guy Matt Brandt smashed the hopes and dreams of an entire CMG team leadout by beating The Donald to the line.

Looks like the orange crush is officially hauling ass. Those guys are wicked quick. Can't wait for track season to start, then I can stop looking like the fat slow kid.

Candi Murray got to hang out at track worlds and spectate. Lucky.
DT

the clog bog. finals are done like disco.

The last two weeks have been all power-study and panic-writing. Finals weeks are bad for motivation in every aspect of life. But now it's over for another term, and I'm left tired, unorganized and feeling like a fat lard.

Did a few quality ride with Aaron Skeletor Tuckerman this week. His road bike was stuck somewhere between Spain and Vancouver, so he got the opportunity to do some extra miles on his TT bike. Lucky guy. You might not think he's got too much power by looking at him, but while rolling around town today he single-handedly ripped his chain in half. This excellent turn of luck landed us in a certain well advertised bike shop downtown, where they didn't know a masterlink from an 8-track player.

The team's mostly here, the bikes are mostly done, and we're mostly ready to roll.

Found a new totally sweet internet radio station called last.fm. Just enter a band, a genre or a category and it spits out hours and hours of music you've probably never heard of, but you'll probably dig.

Looks like the Icebreaker Crit will be interesting this year... Should have the usual 37 hutches guys, a bunch of wicked-quick Dr. Seuss guys, a not-so-mysterious mystery blogger and forty other people who all think they can win the sprint from last position coming into the last lap. Little bit of sun would go a long way, but don't count on it.

DT

catsitting around

Seems that the Interweb has not penetrated Columbia River yet, so the last week of cat-sitting for the Godfreys has left me feeling so... alone. Naked without the news, weather and blogging that the internet has to offer. Sure I could try TV, but who wants to watch that many commercials? The final two weeks of classes have arrived. Things are getting very tense now. The grade worry sets in.

Sounds like the California trip Version 1 is turning out to be a rough day in the office (surprise!). One broken bike and a couple of broken souls later, the nerds should be back in town on Sunday. Meanwhile, speaking of broken bikes, Tuckerman gets in tonight.

This is why YouTube would work better if it was run by shadowy figures hidden in an underground lawsuit-proof bunker somewhere.

the cream of the crop

Barry. Killin.

rollin for real

Seems like everyone always talks about bringing an indoor velodrome to PDX, but it rarely seems to go much farther than talk. Now Steve Brown and a group of people are pushing the idea farther than just emails and water-cooler talk. He and Jonathan Maus of bikeportland.org have been in and out of Salem a few times, and have come back with some great news care of Senator Jason Atkison and measure 66 (which allows use of lottery funds to build parks and recreation centers).

From BikePortland.org: "Sen. Atkinson revealed to us that he just finished the draft of a new Senate Bill that if passed, would allocate $3.5 million to build two new velodromes in Oregon; one in southern Oregon, and one in the Portland metro area!"

The bill officially enters the system tommorow.

Already the same old tired critiques of any state spending are rearing thier stupid heads in the comments section of the bike portland article. "why should we build a park that I'm never going to use?" "I want a 3 dollar tax break!" "If we build a velodrome, the terrorists will win!" Okay maybe that last one hasn't come out yet, but give it time. For every complaint there are five or six in favor, so hopefully that's a good sign.

Keep your eyes on the Portland Velodrome Project website and the Obra mailing list for news and how you and all your friends and relatives and everyone you know can help.
DT

ticket-nazis and anonymous goons

Rolled out the door schoolward bound on the fixie this morning to an interesting sight. Nearly every car on the street decorated with a lovely yellow parking ticket. At first I though "ha, poor bastards." Surely the aftermath of some wednesday night party-goers who overstayed thier welcome in this parking-nazi haven.

Then I saw the ticket on my truck.

WTF?

Turns out everyone's permit expired at midnight last night, and the nazis were ready.

How stupid could I be, to let something like that happen? Then I checked my permit to find the expiration date. None to be seen. Turns out the only proof that I can find that my permit is expired is the little yellow envelope pinned down by my wiper blade. F*#!ers. I counted 28 cars on one street alone with little middle fingers on thier windshields. At 50 bucks a pop, that's 1,400 bucks easy money. Per street. Sneaky bastards.

Sure, I applied for my new permit today, but that stupid envelope is staying on the windshield. We'll see if it can handle a few days of rain and wind untill I actually get in that creaky truck again.

Remember I was amping about the new blog last week? Not so impressed. I don't mind some humor and a good natured jab every now and then, but that stuff's mean and vindictive. The main writer's not the biggest problem, it's the comments. Too many anonymous goons with too little to do and not enough brain power to do it with. It's like a big "I got cheated out of the cat. 4 crit championships title last year and now I'm gonna take it out on someone else" party.

Too many children, not enough toys. An idle mind is the devils playground. "Kill the body and the head will die."

Looking forward to my wedding. Are you?
DT

sweet

New jersey on the line at Worlds this year: the Omnium. Events include:

Kilo:
3k pursuit:
5km scratch:
200m fly:
15km Points race:

How much would it kick ass if that continued beyond this season and expanded into an Olympic medal? Seems like it'd be good for spectators; people get a little more connection with riders, yet races are still short enough to keep up with short attention spans... If USA cycling does not pay attention and make this a national championship event, it will be the worst move they could possibly make. Keep the standing 250 a seperate event and add the omnium, in a couple years you'll have some of the strongest sprinters and endurance guys in the world. Seems that in a country chock full of crit sprinters and trackies that this would be our favorite event.

On the road side of things, apparently Slipstream will test its riders' blood and urine 50 times a year. This will carry a price tag of $20,000 per rider or $400,000 per year... I say kick ass. Good positive step in the public opinion battle that road racing continues to slog through.

New blog on the block: Race Oregon. I'm all about some good-nature shit-talking, so I'm psyched to see how that goes throughout the season. Sure didn't take long to end up the topic of discussion though, this is from a 2007 preview:
"Rubicon
How could I forget Rubicon!? Is Norrene going to load up her basement with Kiwis again? The boys in Orange will be around to share New Zealand’s favorite pastime (drinking) and the national dance (the tuck and roll), in a mutually beneficial cultural exchange. Hide your sisters. Word is she's also looking to load up the team with Cat. 1/2s under 20 years of age or something like that.
2 words for the guys in orange this year: Dan Harm."

Yeah we're amped for Dan's season in orange. I'm just happy to have someone else out at the track. If all goes well we should have a pretty good goup in both the sprints and endurance stuff.

As for the kiwi national dance... well.. yeah. we're working on that. Tuckerman's mountain bike gets training wheels this year.
DT

(almost) Back To Racin'

Some pie race goes down a mere 4 days from now, I better start riding... Actually, I haven't done that race for something like 4 or 5 years and I don't plan on starting this year. Too damn early. The pie race proves a very valid point however, and that point is the 2007 racing season. You can barely see it in the distance, bearing down on us all like a grotesque freight train loaded with acid and chocolates. Come mid-march I'll stand by the tracks and run along at full tilt, pick a car and hop on. Hopefully it's the chocolate one.

First Crit of the year happens pretty early down in U-Jean. If it's the same boring, flat course as always I'm in. This time of the year is tailor made for courses you can sleep through. Just fast enough to hurt, just technical enough to make me corner slightly harder than I do on the bike path. Leave the insane dive-bomber "I can beat the lead motor" courses for summer nights.

We all know that track racing is the best thing you can do with your clothes on, so that's all I'm looking forward to at this point. That and beating Ping Pong at Tabor. Think I'm gonna train for the Fat-Off at Tabor this year. Lord knows the Pong certainly has.

The other thing I need to work on this year is a cyclocross style supporter's club. I need a bunch of old drunk dudes in matching jackets to show up every week at the track to wave pirate flags, hurl insults at other riders and sing songs about how totally awesome I am. I'll even train them to throw the flags like javelins for the AVC this year so I can bring down some sweet moolah when I'm the only one that finishes all of my sprint rounds...
Or maybe I'll just hire this guy. He can just wander around the infield and glare at everyone.

DT

beaches are ill

New best thing: mid-January Oregon coast camping trip. Brave the elements. Face the fears. Nevermind your frozen digits, these smores taste great.

bummer...

I suppose this clears a few thing up though.

"The United States Anti-Doping Agency (USADA) announced on Friday that track cyclist Stephen Alfred of Capitola, Calif., has been given an eight-year suspension after testing positive for exogenous testosterone and for 'pregnancy hormone' human chorionic gonadotrophin (hCG).

Alfred, 39, returned a positive result for exogenous testosterone or its precursors and for an elevated testosterone to epitestosterone (T/E) ratio in an out-of-competition test conducted on May 28, 2006. He also tested positive for hCG on June 10, 2006, at the Pan American Cycling Championships in Brazil. The two positives are considered one doping offense according to the World Anti-Doping Code."
-cyclingnews.com

DT

Crash O The Day

This will hurt

DT

computer's dead

My apple died a horrible, click-spazzy death. I have yet to gather the funds to fix it, so updates can only happen when i'm at school, and when i'm at school I just want to go home, not sit in the library and clickety clack about how my day has been and how little I rode this week.

How bout that World Cup, eh? Get some Sarah Hammer. Get some.
DT

day off

It's my day off, so happy new year and here's some pictures.










Bike pictures from PUMA. That guy with the tabloid is Grant. He doesn't think this is very funny.

This is what tracks should look like.

The westfalenhalle. Dortmund, Germany.

Three Words

new-team-van

partyphotobloggin'

This is half of the rock band IndoChina with accompaniment from an orangutan in a sweater.

This is why your parents didn't want you to drink alcohol when you were young. Because you might get naked with nothing but a speedo and a singlespeed champions belt covering your pale, malnourished body in front of a bunch of co-workers you don't know. And that would kick ass.

Ping pong looks a little uncomfortable on the guitar with a naked monkey behind him...

DT

Humungus for Governor

If I lived in California, I would give him my vote.

http://www.inch.com/~william/humungus.html

DT

the finally finished with finals post

Been a long time coming, but it's done for another term. That was a rough one.
Pretty sure I'm ready to be done now.
Yep, pretty sure.
Too bad I'll never be done. I'll be done with this degree pretty soon, but then it's on to the bachelors (after a nice break), and then maybe a masters if I'm not dead before I get my B.S.

Updates: Mr. TooVanilla Burrito Cozy Shack Cats Pomegranates Skerrit scored a second at the Masters Natz cross race yesterday.Pro race finished 30 seconds ago. Trebon pulled off the big V to become a double national champ. XC and CX. Nice.

Updates: Scored 4 free tickets to see the Faint and Ratatat a couple of weeks ago. That rocked my socks off.

Updates: I'm considering making my own christmas presents this year. Maybe newspaper hats or ceramic ash trays or something. I can't hold money long enough to buy gifts with it. It all finds its way into my stomach somehow. Here's a sample of my food intake one day last week after lifting, riding and schooling: 1 turkey sandwich, 3 cups of coffee, 1 whole roasted chicken, 1 peanut butter and jelly sandwich, half of a large pepperoni pizza, half gallon of milk and 6 or so cookies. and a partridge in a pear tree.

Updates: Can't go to Burnaby due to overlapping EMT certification tests... drag.

Updates: My new phone is smaller than yours.

Updates: The BG holiday party is tommorow. Free food...mmm.. scavengertron ACTIVATE.

Photobloggin (now with 80% less racing)

Slater and Tall Mike at the USGP Portland. Crossin. Cross Dressin. Drankin.









Hot Tubbin at the run-up.





















New team car. Big enough for 3 climbers and the team cat.













Man?
Woman?
Weako?
Neanderthal?
Orangutan in a woman's sweater?









Winter. It's cold out there.

the dude abides...

Indoor tracks are why I need to make a lot of money. I could see myself driving the 6 hours each way to train and race pretty frequently in the rainy months if I had the cash. Rumor has it some people are getting serious about building a top-class indoor velodrome in Portland. That would kick ass and I'd do what I could to help make it happen, but for now all we've got is 6 hours to Burnaby or 15 hours to LA.

So to Burnaby we went.

All I've done since Nationals is lift weights and ride to school, so that first 200 was a bit of a shock. Enough of a shock to send me crouching over the toilets for a few minutes. Apparently Gatorade does not change color after being in your stomach for a while.

For those of you that have never been up to the most densely populated frozen tundra in southwestern Canada, the track in Burnaby's pretty sweet. Sweet because it's not outside (it's in a giant balloon), it's made of two different kinds of wood (pine and plywood (and duct tape)), and it's short, sketchy and kinda slippery. This is what I look like on it.



Did you know that I'm fast enough to wear white gloves? I couldn't pull off the white gloves at a cross race (like some real fast people) but fortunately sprints and kierins are much shorter than cross races. Fewer chances live up to my slowness potential.

I lost pretty consistently to the Canadians, but all in all I had a good time. Those guys are great fun to race with, they're not afraid to chuck out the elbows, and they almost usually keep thier clothes on most of the time. Rumor has it the January SixDay they're hosting is going to have madisons, sprints, messenger races (or "courier races" as they say in French Canadian), a beer garden, a petting zoo and a ferris wheel. Be there.

Quote of the weekend from Keith Bruneau, "I'm almost a whole you older than you..."

The Basil Wars

Ever played football? Think you're good in large crowds? Like kicking double-wide strollers? If yes then come on down, come one, come all to the Portland Farmer's Market. I like the FM, but I hate all the other people who like it too. Maybe not all of them, but at least the ones who get in my way. Which is most of them.

So the rain is back, school's in full swing and track season is over. Time to skip the border to our Northern brothers and head to the Big White Worm, Burnaby Velodrome. Nothing says "off season" like more racing and a 200m duct-taped half-plywood half-board track inside a giant balloon. Someone should put that on a greeting card.
November 11th and 12th. Be there or be lame. yeah.

I think my dad has the brain fever. Or maybe the black lung. Not sure. Bummer either way. He missed a great time at the last cross race which included watching everyone fall, every lap in the same corner, the Solomonster demolishing the single speeds in a single speedo (and falling in the tricky corner), a couple of legitimately nasty and unfortunate crashes, dousing Walrod with beer during the A race (3 times), feeding Walrod beer during the A race, and competely psychologically cracking Walrod by handing him an empty beer bottle during the A race (oh the dissapointment).

See you next week at Flying M, and you better be wearing a costume.

DT

tired

So Nationals if over. Again. If I never had to go back to LA ever ever again, I'd be psyched. The place is a landfill. The track is cool, the surroundings are not so cool.

Speaking of Nationals, the kilo was awful. It was probably the worst one ever. Ever. Each time I do a kilo, it's always the worst one ever. However, I think this one actually was the worst, because I went considerably slower than last year. That's the story of the kilo.
Still ended up 3rd in the U23 class. Probably helps that no one wants to do the kilo anymore, now that it's not an Olympic event, and because it sucks.

Sprints were fun, but not as good as I hoped. I gambled wrong on a smallish gear and rode an 11.3 instead of... faster than an 11.3. Which is what I wanted. THE ULTIMATE 200M DESIRE EQUATION: D=T*.97 where D= the time you want and T= the time you get. Got through my first round without too much trouble, then had to race Adam Duvendeck, the top qualifier. That was trouble. Tried to jump him early and disrupt as much as I could, but that guy's too smart and too fast. All I heard as I was chasing after him through the final corner was Jame Carney screaming "GO LUKE PERRY!!"

Beat Lakatosh in the reps, which felt good, but it was for second. Plus I'm pretty sure he sat up. Baby steps i suppose

Duvendeck fought the power with Giddeon Massie for the gold and went down swingin. Big G wasn't taking home another second place, he brought forth the fury and grabbed the big V.

Endurance stuff was ruled by Tiaa Cref, predictably enough. The big upset was Dave McCook winning the scratch race out of a bunch sprint after Jame chased every single Blue Man Group down. That guy rode like ten men. Ten very small, angry men.

Props to Mikkel and Steveo for both riding a solid scratch.

Sounds funny. Solid scratch.

Most importantly, mega-props to my parents, who made the whole trip happen with major financial support, 30-some hours of driving and lots of moral support. They really believe in me (for some reason) and that helps tremendously when there's no big dollar pro deal anywhere on the horizon, just more medals from different places, and maybe a free bike or two...


DT

results

4th in the 250. (3rd U23) Time standard was 18.69, I rode 19.12. Not too happy with the time, but I'll take the result.

Sometimes I don't understand how these events work. Not sure if they're organized or improvised. For instance: the 250 is intended to be a qualifier for the national team. If you can beat the time standard, you're in. If not, too bad. It was specifically described as a talent pool qualifier and NOT a championship event.

As we're warming up, the announcer says that the 250 is in fact a championship event as of riiiight NOW. How does that work? How can you have an event that is NOT a championship event when people have a chance to register for it, then as the first guy is rolling up to the line and registration is closed, THEN you announce there's a jersey on the line? Whaa? So if a jersey's on the line, is there a U23 jersey as well? "oh, well no." Why not? "Um, I dont know, ask that guy over there" So why not, guy over there? "oh um, well, you see... LOOK A UNICORN!" *guy runs away*

8th in the kierin. sketchy and faaast. mega fast. so fast it deserves 3 a's and no capitalization. Couple of wierd calls too. McLaughry was relegated for a hook that I had no complaints about, but another dude was just warned for punting Zac off his bike.

Kierin awards are right after 250 awards, so I stand around to watch and hear another official try to explain to the top place U23 rider why there are no U23 jerseys for the kierin. "Oh, it's because we only do espoir awards for the timed events." That's odd. There was no award for the timed 250, yet there was a jersey for the first espoir in the scratch race (mikkel bosson got that one by the way... way to go buddy). You know, the non-timed mass-start definitely not time-trial scratch race.

I guess sometimes you just have be on the right side of the coin toss.

Kilo is tonight.

Welcome To Purgatory, Population 10 Million

We've arrived in L.A. Sunday night after 16 hours of driving, one muddy rain storm, a packet of jerky, 2 cokes, 4 tanks of gas, a bag of trail mix and a half gallon of water. Poor Abers took a break Sunday night in Sacramento (5 hours from LA), only to get stuck behind 4 accidents the next morning. Took him 11 hours to make the final leg of the trip. Bummer.

In 2 days I've been nearly hit 3 times driving around this southern California wasteland. Our hotel is a little over a mile from the track, but I won't ride to it. No way. Not going outside with those automotive idiots out there. Too many small people in big Hummers slurping frappucinos, talking on cell phones and powering down In 'n Out burgers while flying along at 80 miles an hour on side streets. Last year our hotel was a similar distance from the track, and Norrene still managed to get smacked by a station wagon on her ride to the velodrome.

Drove to the track yesterday to reaquaint myself with the ADT wood bowl. That track's pretty cool. Very wierd rolling up on a track that's steeper than Alpenrose and three times slicker. Those boards are crazy smooth, but not grippy.

Still feeling the affects of a lingering head-cold, but I have the technology. I have the medication. I have an up to date banned substances list and I'm taking just about everything that's not on it. Couldn't find "intravenous injectin of Cozy Shack," so I'm safe. Gotta clear myself out by tommorow morning at 7. Go time.

Good Luck at Nationals, Me

I dedicate this video to myself. Hopefully I'll come back from LA in one piece and with all my teeth this time. Go me.


Get this video and more at MySpace.com

holy crap

Word on the street is that McMuscles threw down a 10.68 at the Springs and Massie did a 10.2something. Alfred is MIA.

Nationals in C-Springs next year would rule. That track is mega-fast. Funny that an outdoor concrete track is faster than our indoor board track... I guess altitude and a perfect 333 makes up for a lot.

Awesome.

DT

The Blue-Man Bruiser

Check out the dude it the blue. He pulls an extreme move I'm calling the "hurricane Katrina."

stunning

So I was riding home the other day, ripping down Sandy on the fixie, and I start to catch up to this other dude, also riding home on a fixie. I'd mention at this point that it's broad daylight. We're going at a pretty good clip, I'm probably 20 feet behind him, we roll up to this intersection, the light's green (very green) and a black car rolls out in front of us, crossing Sandy against his red light. Adrenaline spikes and it looks for sure like this guy is going to ride straight through the car's passenger window, until he pulls the most amazing brakeless powerslide right-turn onto the cross street.

Black car stops (while still on Sandy) right in front of me. So I pull a sweet sliding stop and we both wait as the tinted window rolls down.

So this dude's going to apologize right? You know, cause that's what you do when you almost maim or kill 2 people by not just blowing, but blatantly rolling through a stop light. Right?

This guy starts yelling at us. For being reckless. Because we're riding on the street and not the sidewalk. And not paying attention. Really, man? Are you serious?

It bummed me almost all the way home, until I rolled by Doug Fir and saw the 40 bikes parked out front. Rode by Shanghai and Berbati's and saw the 40 bikes parked out there, the pile of bikes outside of Dante's and the mega-pile of commuter bikes chained up outside Powells. That just made me think that the idiots can't win. We outnumber them (at least in my small corner of the world). And we look better in shorts.

DT

The New Giver Stick

Say it with me now. Off the sick-ter scale.

The Edge

I bet something happened in the Vuelta today. Not sure what, because I haven't been paying attention, but I can guess. Today it was hot. Really hot. It's hot in Spain this time of year, and today was no exception. It was also hilly, because Spain is also not flat. Some guy would have attacked out of the parking lot, because I hear the Spanish are into siestas, and they would have wanted to get things over with by 3ish or so. Another guy played it smart and did not attack out of the parking lot, he attacked later in the race and won. He's probably not the guy you expected to win either, but he's got heart, and maybe something a little extra in the bottles...

I got the competetive edge this morning by staying at Stumptown for an extra cup of coffee before I hit the track. I hear hydration's important, and coffee's mostly water.

Couple hours of efforts later and I'm ready for a nap, just in time to rush to work. Sounds like coffee time.

Photobloggin'

Andy Smalls. Rennaissance Man.


Ramming speed in Raetehi, NZ


Staredown Championships '06.


New team van. Just needs a black paint job.


Breakfast of champions

DT

Coffee Time

As summer winds down, life at the bike shop gets wierd. Managers get tense as profits fall, staff gets restless as the shop stays empty regardless of the sunny weather. Most of the people who make it through the doors these days are either "just looking" or in for a tube and some energy gels. Neko Case is singing about stars again. Clouds are hanging around too long in the morning. Solomon thinks Summer is dying. I need to get to the beach this summer before it's dead.

Watched some poor woman case it on her motorcycle in front of the shop yesterday. Big, bright red jeep is stopped at a light, she's not paying too much attention, careens toward the jeep and turns to see it, smacks on the brakes at the last minute (which sends her right hand off the bar), she executes a frantic rodeo impression for a split second and finally gets bucked to the ground. Fortunately this all happens at about 20 mph, so she doesn't look too bad, but is a living example of why you shouldn't ride your motorcycle in a t-shirt, velour sweatpants, Teva sandals and no gloves... Fire is on scene immediately and has her on a long backboard before you can say "where's AMR?" Ambulance arrives a solid 20 minutes later. A good natured homeless guy tries to direct traffic on Sandy around the giant Portland Fire rig, but the police shoo him away at his most glorious citizen-in-charge moment.

Dick Speers' back in the mother country and Tuckerman's headed back on Saturday, so we had a little send-off last night. All was good untill he found my phone and began calling everyone in alphabetical order. Including my Dad. At 1 in the morning. Lucky for Tuckerman he didn't pick up.

Not a single person has walked into the shop in the last 2 hours and 13 minutes. I wonder what Ping-Pong's doing right now?

DT