good times

To define the term "screwing off" you should have been with us ALL DAY Saturday, taking notes armed with a pad and pen. Thom P, Jeff W and myself held class on blowing off steam, taking no prisoners, riding lots, staying out way late, eating red meat and not flossing. Well, maybe the flossing part was just me. Happy (almost) bygone-bachelorhood to my friend Thom P.
After an epic mid-day ride, in deep blue sky with warm sunshine. And after CVS Pharmacy saved our (my) tired and cramped legs with a red bull and can of pringel's, we met up with an enthusiastic crew at Red Bones. Led by (non other than) the man with a plan to visit every bar in Boston, Mr. Greg the leg. A brief conversation with Skip Brown over Alabama hot ribs got me fired up. Man I am now thinking my mountain bike racing life was far too short. I digress...Thanks for a great weekend. It's doubtful that any of us will ever grow up...and why should we?

Oslo, Norway

One O’clock on Tuesday. A quick trip home to gather an over night pack, snatch my passport, forgot my razor, a stop at Boarders for a lonely Planet guide to Oslo. The seven hour envoy flight was more like dinner and a movie at a four star bistro. I had the salmon, best meal I’ve had aboard a plane yet. The three drinks, Clint Eastwoods's "Gran Torino" and four hours of shut eye. This impromptu trip, resulting from a one line email from my director; need help in OSL…you game? A one word answer; YES.
Now sitting aboard an 8:21 train, but we are still in the station at 8:44. Heading back to OSL Gardermoen Airport for my first day of work in Norway. I’ve been dispatched to relocate two offices for the company. I feel it’s a reward for 8 months of work, really. But wasn’t I rewarded two weeks ago as Lesli and I lounged on the beaches of Kaua’I Hawaii for ten days. Man, when it rains it pours I guess.
This was my first trip to Europe. My first experience of the attitudes, broad mindedness, foreign customs, excessive cigarette smoke, Norwegian food, Viking architecture, hundreds of nude sculpture, ridiculous prices, apparent wealth, exceptional public transportation, impeccably dressed individuals, wide range of language spoken, day light until eleven pm and dawn at 4am. Who ever said that NYC was the city that never sleeps hasn’t been to Oslo in the summer..

But, be forewarned for pick-pockets on the streets at night. Grab them by the shirt collar and give them the crazy eye, they'll drop your shit if your lucky.

Thanks to Ray and he extensive knowledge of Oslo, among every other city in Europe. I didn't use my Lonely Planet once! And to Mui Mui, see you in Munich for Oct'Fest 2009!

Picture Show

t

Just some of my favorites from
Belinky's divorced recumbent up high,
Naked goes for the popular vote again
A frame that doubles as a canvas

Calfee's interpretation of a mangrove
Belinky's whole lotta work

Black Sheep's 36'er

complete with a sheep in wolf's clothing

guitar hero

old school

Peacock Groove honors "Kill Bill".

Check out 156 pictures of NAHBS here.

And check out Igleheart news on his Blog.

What would Michael Stipe do?

Choosing a super power is tough... I mean, IF you could choose one that is. When I was a kid with a paper route I wished daily for the ability to bounce with a twenty foot stride from house to house to deliver papers. Not because I wanted to deliver great service, I just wanted to be done so I could go play. Omni-linguism would be a good and responsible adult type superpower. The ability to understand any form of language. How great would that be! Would that include computer language? Animal language? French?? Yesterday I wished for a super power. The ability to transform my early season fitness (or lack there of) to a much less painful level. My lungs are working and my legs feel good, it's just the extra 15 pounds of spare tire I'm hauling around is weighing me down (quite literally). Time to skip the deserts and pass on the french fries. - That would require another super power for me. I need to get back to where climbing hills on a single speed feels good. "Are you supposed to taste blood during a ride?" Hey, at least I can still jump off rocks.

Nahbs closing in

Large wet flakes covered my head as I stepped the short distance from my car to Chris' shop door. My head white with snowflakes and my boots brown and sinking in deep mud. I round the back corner and duck as I open the shop door. This winter can't end soon enough. The shop is small, warm, and lit, a sharp contrast to what is outside. Stuffed with milling machines, a lathe, welders, tables, vices, jigs, tool boxes, and Igleheart's precious bridgeport machine. An eclectic folksy tune on the radio and the smell - part pine tar, part burned metal, part machine oil.
The first time I'd entered one of Christopher's shops I thought he was in the midst of reorganizing. But, the longer I know Chris the more I come to realize he is a systematic person caught in a whirlwind of current projects and others on the horizon. I just accept the piles of supplies and mountains of machinery as a shop in constant transition. My trained eye can now identify progression amidst jumbled confusion.
Igleheart has put many hours and weeks into this years' pilgrimage to NAHBS and last night it became evident.
Chris' friend Jim came up from Chinatown to assemble show bikes as Chris welded forks on the other side of the small shop. Jim's attention to detail and his knowledge of bikes surpasses mine by far, I was there to watch and drink beer.
As I enter the shop and shake off the snow Igle is lathing down shims for an odd-sized brakelever. "Everyone should have a lathe!" - I tend to agree with Chris. Jim's laugh is contagious as he proclaims "good job on the custom hinged shims!"
I crack a beer and inspect a showbike carefully clenched in the stand. John the painter rolls in and parks on the snow covered driveway. Jim and I go out to grab the freshly painted bikes, I hustle to the rear of Jon's truck and see how gently he is handling the candy-coated frames and forks. I pause and carefully pluck two forks from John's grasp, he gives a sobering look while hesitantly giving them over, one fire red and one lotus green. I hold them far apart, not to clang them together and carefully trudge through the mud back to warmth of the shop.
After a few trips three freshly painted frames and forks hung securely from the shop ceiling. We admired Johns handy work and complimented on precise masking and just the right amount of metallic dust. The bikes look da bomb.
Jim and Igle worked well into the night. I'll stop back by to see what they put together.

Someone had alot of time...

97% of the machines components came from Deere Industries and
Irrigation Equipment of Bancroft,
Iowa , yes farm equipment!

It took the team a combined 13,029 hours of set-up, alignment,
calibration, and tuning before filming this
video but as you can see it was well worth the effort.

It is now on display in the Matthew Gerhard Alumni Hall at the
University and is already slated to be donated to the Smithsonian.

Otis

The plan was made to hoof it to the cape for a long awaited first ride on actual dirt. It's been a long winter with loads of snow and too many road riding miles. We landed at our destination an hour delayed due to a closed highway. A three hour one-way drive in order to ride for 90 minutes, you know we were desperate for dirt. Actually it was a 2.5 hour ride but we had to stop at every intersection to read the trail map.
Even if the drive down was four hours it's worth the trip. Matt and I on single speeds and both Jims' and Al on full suspensions. The trails are comprised much of winding single track with small climbs and banked corners. 19.1 mph was top speed on the chute trail. major fun.
We need another try at finding all the trails, we covered only half of what Otis has to offer...we just needed a trail guide but Tom and Reenie were soaking up the rays in Florida with Harvey.
Next week we may take another journey down over the Borne bridge and check out the Trail of tears.

baseline

So today the best possible thing happened; I got my ass kicked. But not just kicked. That's putting it lightly...I got destroyed. It was pretty intense. I did survive. Barely. A smile on my face as I spun slowly home post destruction (the smile detectable somewhere under all the salt and road grime).
Skip and I originally threw together a casual plan to pedal west out toward Boxford... that's where the plan was abandon.
We saw a group of three riders 3 minutes into our ride. "Hey..ah, you.. ah.. wanna catch those guys?" They were moving quick and it took a mile to catch'em. The only road rig I have running is my fixie and I am questioning my rational as we TT up to the trio of guys moving at 24 mph. Having zero time to warm up -my legs are sending messages to the control room.. The conversation goes some'tin like, "hey whats going on on the bridge? - the turbines are billowing, slow the F down!!" The control room ignored the legs pleas, "ah did somebody say something?" "We're too busy being macho and trying to stay out of the wheel in front of us...(make that wheels - plural)- cause now I'm seeing double!" The throttle was firmly pegged like it was July already. That's pretty much how the two hour high interval ride went. I swallowed my pride when forced to walk up the big hill on little neck but whatevea.
Our five man peloton was comprised of Brian Wilichoski, His two buddies Iron-man Dave and Parker, Skip and me. First beat-down of '09.
You just never know what's going to happen - but can only wish for days like this.
Now at least a baseline has been established...no where but up from here.

"hey what's taking you guys just spin faster"

A big shout-out to Harvey Peeet'rsiel. He's my friend and neighbor with a huge passion for cycling. He broke his hip last Sunday While riding. Luckily he had some solid people on site to call for medical aid and help with the transport of his gear.

Five shiny new screws now hold his pelvis together.

- Hey, is a pelvis and a hip the same?

The surgery seemed to be a success...here's to a speedy recovery Harv'e.

Crrrrrrrap

Caption Contest

Benign as it may look, the results captured in this picture was a big deal yesterday in the lives of hundreds of employees at my company and thousands of air travelers on the (Major) airline for which I work. I'll set the stage and let you'all come to the conclusion (which I really don't know the full out come yet).
Somewhere in Arizona, some one gets back from lunch, climbs into his small excavator and resumes digging in front of a non-descript building on the out skirts of Phoenix. He's contracted to drill post-holes to provide shade for the desert dwelling people living and using the parking lot. When he unearths a long pink snake, and it aint organic. It's the worst case scenario for communications between EVERY system we have.
Re-routs were orchestrated, a sys priority plan scrambled, fines averted, and a guy in a hole in the desert till late last night with a flashlight clenched in his teeth and the mother of all fibre splices in his two hands. Who thinks that strand will every work correctly again?

the past couple few

It's been a good beginning to a new year. A little busier than I'd like with work but better than the alternative. On the horizon looms a road race somewhere in upstate NY, and is the catalyst for getting my ass in gear. Averaging just a ride a week presently has me concerned that I will be in for a long day come April 18th or 20th. I don't even know when that Battenkill race is. Note to self - step it up!

Skipolini and I had a good ride today. A couple hours on the road. Talking, panting, sweating below three plus layers of wool. It was the longest ride of the year for me. The weather has not cooperated for this weekend warrior. Boston has already received it's annual snowfall plus 3 inches. I've made plans with Thom P no less than three times now for a road fixie ride, and every time it's snowed. Tomorrow temps fore casted for 12 degrees Fahrenheit, no snow, I'll be there in seven layers and a face mask Thom P. Just wait every now and then, or draw arrows in the snow at intersections for us slow guys ;-0
So I've decided to buy a new road bike this year. I'm a little hesitant to jump on the carbon bandwagon but from looking around carbon fibre is about the only thing road bikes are made of now a days. Trek, Cannondale, Specialized, Seven? I'm going to NAHBS next month. Maybe I'll be coming home from Indy with a new toy from Calfee, Bilenky or Parlee.
Last weekend Big Pete (dad) and I went to DC for a pre-inauguration visit. The both of us have never been to our nation's capitol, and what better time to visit with two million people to trip over. We got familiar with D.C.'s public transportation system, visited five or six Smithsonian museums (rocked!) and froze our asses off walking around each night with temps near zero.

So, it was Saturday. Cold and windy. We decided to walk the national mall from the Capitol Building earlier in the day after hitting up the Native American Museum, Air and Space Museum and the American History Museum. We were beat, thinking of food, beer, warmth. Passing the Washington Monument and slowly progressing to the Lincoln Memorial...and with the inauguration planned for Tuesday the national Mall was set up for two million spectators, meaning one million pot-o-johns lining the 1.8 mile long grassy field from the Capitol Bldg to the Lincoln Memorial. Strolling Within the WWII memorial and looking at the glowing spire of the Washington Memorial, listening to James Taylor via tall loud speakers that were setup every one hundred yards. The acoustics were amazing. I estimate no less than fifty individual twenty-five foot tower of speakers with their own individual diesel generator every one hundred yards, on both sides of the national mall. The music bouncing off tall marble walls of the many adjacent government buildings. The Lyrics as clear and crisp as your living room. The traffic noise from Constitution Ave was no match for this pre-inauguration soiree'. Every now and then, just for good measure, a tractor trailer truck set-up with a jumbo-tron brightly-lit that would soon show the image of our forty-fourth president with a single hand on Abraham Lincoln's Bible.

Being there was special. Being there BEFORE the crowds more special. But the cold temps keeping people away that night.

Now nearing the tall white columns of the Lincoln Memorial. We could see in the distance that a stage was set in front of the giant statesman for which the memorial stands. The James Taylor song "Carolina in my mind" fades out. A guitar slowly tuning up, and I think, hey that sounds like U2. We look to the stage. 50 or 60 spectators gather as close as we could get to the Lincoln Memorial. Puzzled looks on our faces. Is that Bono? Springsteen and Stevie Wonder on stage talking to each other?

Then confirmation via the Jumbo-Tron. Up came the volume and a small number of us were witness to a private three song concert. Bono is a tough guy wearing no stocking hat despite the frigid temperatures. One thousand seats set up in front of the stage stood empty and were patrolled by security. Our small group grew to about one hundred and ten.

I held the camera on record, out stretched over my head for as long as my freezing hand could stand. I only made half of the song.

early ride '09

base

1   /beɪs/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [beys] Show IPA Pronunciation
noun, adjective, verb, based, bas⋅ing. –noun
1. the bottom support of anything; that on which a thing stands or rests: a metal base for the table.
2. that from which a commencement, as of action or reckoning, is made; a starting point or point of departure.
3. a fun ride in early season with friend(s) while making motorcycle noises, skidding around snowy corners, enjoying the moment, and building some lungs back for a new season.

Step into my time machine

But, some things have not, and will never change.
Although, I don't plan on racing again in a Cotton T-shirt.
Thanks for the article Mom.

putting the FU in foot

I don't know what it was, just caught in the moment I guess. Feeling a rush of adrenaline as we carved through piles of fresh powder on opening day. Each run better than the first. Faster and more aggressive. This was to be a magical day on the board with my best compadre' Jeff...
"Hang on man, I have a cramp in my foot." Looking down at Jeff as I pause at the top of Exterminator Woods. My body giving signs that things aren't as hunky-dory as a moment ago. My foot is cramped like never before and I'm laughing thinking that it's just my body's way of telling me it's early season.
Jeff is looking up at me, "you're taking off your boot? I continue to laugh. Jeff takes out a camera and snaps this photo. For forty minutes I had overlooked the fact that my front binding was so tight it was cutting much needed circulation to my foot.
So, if this happens to you don't just take your foot out of the boot. It will blow up to the size of a beach ball and as purple as barney the dinosaur.
Being human is the best, and the worst sometimes. I turn 35 next week. When will I learn to slow down... My body might be trying to tell me something.
Now a week later. Ample rest? No not really. The swelling and shades of purple were subsiding. But the 60 degree temps were too much of a temptation. Christopher and I spun an easy pace on the back roads of Manchester. Once again caught in the moment, this time with the correct tension on my shoe straps. But my foot gave me a big 'ol FU at the top of Jersey street hill.
Last week's epic 20 inch snowfall melts just as quick as it fell overnight a week ago. Things could not have been mellower on this fixie cruise. Damn I wish we had not gone up Jersey hill. The top of my foot swelling up once again and I feel the now familiar pressure of my gimpy foot.
I had neglected to tell Christopher (Nice new website BTW!...and he updated his blog..holy cow!) about my injury but now came out with the news as I sat sidelined atop the back country road.
Maybe this time I'll let it heal completely before I turn up the fun meter.
How can't you turn up the fun meter? On December 28th and we're out riding glove less in Massachusetts. Two weeks of rest and then we'll see. Undoubtedly a month before I can attempt to snap off that fun meter.
...and probably two months before I can attempt this stretch. But thanks for the tip Lesli.

Energy

Feel the energy of a night ride on a cold, cold night.
A double layer of gloves and neoprene boots.
I dug for my balaclava but came up short.
Move too fast and freeze in your sweat,
Move too slow and have your light die.
Move just right and bring a tripod next time.

How relevant.

Will work for Karma

So, this is what it's like to be part of the nine to five club? Holy smokes. It's a good thing I like this new gig and extremely glad I waited till the ripe age of 34 to put my nose to the grind stone and earn an honest buck. Now, when can I retire again?
Free time has been restricted to the weekend so I'm even thinking of joining a gym to be sure my muscles don't whither any further, or I don't grow any fatter! Maybe just for the winter.
I'll stop my rant now regarding employment, and will leave you with a little story of good karma and stupid stupidity - yeah that's what I said...

Last week I found a guys wallet so I do what any other honest guy would do, I took all the cash and threw the rest away....NOT! I sent the wallet back to his home address with a note for him to call and tell me if he got it back.
So he did. And I felt like I helped a guy down on his luck.... NOPE!
Turns out the same guy just got arrested for throwing bombs in front of his house!! unreal.
http://www1.whdh.com/news/articles/local/BO94787/ check it out.

winning view

Sunday Gusty Sunday on a simple fixed gear cruiser around Cape Ann. Stopping at Stage fort park to give the hammies a ten second stretch. The ground displaying evidence of last weeks epic battle between Trebone and Johnson.
And I am thinking...So, what exactly is a battle ship doing in Gloucester Harbor? This cannot be good.
Kudos to Mark Babineau for cutting in the run-up on day two. You can't see it but the racers had to jump up a two foot wall and then climb a 30 foot (45% slope) comprised of potting soil.
AP and I watched and drank beer - 'Cross is so much more enjoyable as a spectator.

Gloucester Cyclocross Seat Cam from colin reuter on Vimeo.

Gee, why do they call him tree farm again?

Tim Johnson, home town hero, finishing up with style.
I arrived too late for the B-men's battle. From what little I did catch, Jeremy Dunn had things under control on the last lap. Looking strong, sizing up his competition with a focused glance. A powerful lunge in to the back field and kept us guessing. Some bad luck getting jammed up with another rider and eventually crossing for fifth. He got third on Saturday. He'll be on the top of the podium soon.