Gabcast! Cycling Life #10

Here’s the latest trivia from Fitchburg, MASS:

Did you know that you can do an easy ride somewhere in Massachusetts that goes like this: right turn, left, up, left, right, down, up, right, left, right, right, right, right, right, left, left, right, left, right, up, right, up, left, left, left, down, TIMES 100, and I would not know if I had gone to Virginia or just around the ‘block’ fifteen times?

Did you know that if I were left behind on said ride, I would prolly not resurface until next April?

Did you know that June 27/28th is the longest day of the year and that after a redeye flight delay that takes off at 3 am you can make your day last over 43 hours, making an absolute mockery out of summer solstice?

Did you know that I find it easier to find my way in the Bob Marshal Wilderness area than in the neighborhoods northwest (?) of Boston?

Did you know that Massachusetts has a clear PIE SEASON where participants gobble up  berry pies, creme pies, peanut butter, mallow pies and the like?

Did you know that soft cases sometimes cause Cannondales to spontaneously spit off their derailluer hangers mid-transport and makes parts appear and float around case that absolutely do not go anywhere on the bike in the bag?

Did you know that you need a PhD in Orienteering to navigate anything on wheels for more than two hundred meters in this part of the country?

Did you know that you can take a turn and think you’re going east, look up and see the sun setting then make two more 90 degree turns in the same direction and still be going west?

Did you know that when you lose things and blame your Aussie teammate for taking those items saying, ‘’What? You’re all a bunch of criminals.” you get accused of crossing some sort of “line of appropriateness”.

Did you know that when it rains here you get to hike a bike throw deep, thick, dark brown mud and there is no light coming out of the sky and you find yourself saying things outloud like, “oh my God.  Look at the ferns! Just look at the little things coming out of the sky, guys!”?

More did ya knows after a long sleeeeeep.

Perhaps.

BB

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I’ve never been really good at hiding my emotions. This picture pretty much says it all for us at Philly. I look like my mother when she has that, “what the F@#$?” look on her face… I wonder if this was before or after I called those people ‘dipshits’.  There is one of me smiling, too, however in the photo section going up Manayunk.  Thanks Bote for sending along the links. 

Yes, I’m in Flagstaff. I’m helping Snake housesit for Big Johnny. Hence the format and style. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, check www.drunkcyclist.com and you’ll be acquainted with the cast of the Big Johnny Show.

What the hell is going on.

I have been sleeping more than I have in two months. I am crediting the fact that Big Johnny and his wife have a new baby and this house needs a sleeping person in it or it will fall down. I am just doing my best. I took two solid naps today. One after my moto session this morning and then another after Snake’s where I drove and ‘nearly killed’ him by ‘letting off the throttle’, ‘rule #1. You never let off the throttle’. Whatever. Toughness training and responsiveness training is what we are after.

What I did notice driving the moto was the consideration I was given by the seemingly benevolent drivers that passed. Funny. I was in the same position on the road as I was on my bike earlier, only with a slightly wider vehicle (perhaps three inches total). The passing drivers actually slowed down and waited to pass. huh. That’s nice.

I met THE Dirty Kate and she’s coming to Fitchburg to watch some bike matches.

Have a glass of water if you’re hungry.

What else I got? How ‘Bout a letter from Cheeba.

From: Cheeba

Subject: My ball

Hey, Dad. I found new friends. They throw the ball for me over and over again. I can’t get enough. I thought I lost the ball once when I checked out the bug on my stomach and it rolled down the steep driveway. I looked and looked for a good half hour then found it out by the street. WHEW! I like my friends. They are nice. Did I mention they throw the ball for me?

See ya soon. Will you be throwing the ball for me when you get back?!?

Your loving dog, Cheeba.

Word. I love that bitch.

Next!

From: Snake

Subject: Why can’t we all be friends and get along?

Look. People are taking shots at me. Broeder included. “WHERE ARE THE SPRINTS AT!?!” then flips me off when I tell her to stay on my wheel. And what is up with her LAME ass attack five miles intot he group roll out? I am just trying to help. TRYING to mind my own business, actually, and the forest closures have brought some sort of resurgence in Arizona Road Cycling. Leave me be.

OK. Done and done.

Go back to your Aerospace Anonymity.

Interview with ‘Retard Strength’. By Becky Broeder

As mentioned previously, the forest closures have brought out a whole new breed of creature in Flag. Behold Retard Strength. He showed up at Late for the Train with a leather skid lid, a worn-out and holey faded purple jersey, an old, ‘like real old and beat down’ Colnago with no water bottle cages and bar wrap from 1981. He was about 6′-4″ or - 5″ bald, ripped as hell. Worn out shorts with a chamois about the thickness of a sheet of construction paper. His face was not only expressionless, but a blank holding just a glimmer of a silly grin. I got into his group on the group ride on Saturday morning. We were chasing for a long go. When he went to the front, I wanted to die. Death. Come. Now. He pulled and pulled and I kept thinking, “just one more minute, for sure….just one more minute. Okay. He’s still there. Another minute and he’ll pull off….oh God, it’s been a half an hour now.”

So when we finished, I interviewed him:

Me: “Dude. You are like a MOTOR”

Him: hee hee

Me: “No, really. You are a motor.”

Him: hee hee

Someone else: “yea. I wanted you to pull off”

Him: hee hee. I didn’t want to be selfish. So I pulled off.

Me: “I don’t know if selfish is the right word for that.”

That’s it for tonight. Thai Food. French Toast in the morning possibly. No ride. And a red eye on Tuesday.

BB

The biggest fear in my life has always been being bored.  Ever since the day my mom created the joke, ‘WHOA! WAS THAT A CHICKEN!?!’ pertaining to my thought process when she was yammering at me, I started to think about my possible relationship with ADHD.  I’m sure I have some form of it.  I guess every time I start to think about the symptoms and how they pertain to me, I get sidetracked somehow.

Thing is, with ADHD, apparently the ’sufferer’ (I find that funny cuz ’suffer’ should prolly be replaced with ‘amusement’) gets really involved almost obsessively with a couple of things in their lives.  For me that would be drawing/painting and riding/running competitively (well, and socializing).  But I still get bored sometimes.  So, in order to ‘cure’ my hypothetical ADHD I have decided exactly what I need to do.  I joined a crit team this year because I’m tired of the same races over and over and wanted to push myself into a racing style I became afraid of.  Along the same thread, I decided that NEXT YEAR, I WILL BE DOING RAAM.  That’s right.  Just like taking allergy shots filled with the allergens a person is allergic to, I am going to bore myself out of my mind to cure my fear of boredom.  After all, my second biggest fear is FEAR, so I’m thinking facing my boredome fear will also conquer my second biggest fear.  And furthermore, I’m thinking I will only use my MP3 that holds two hours of music and listen to it, maybe load it with, “World Hold On” and some Interpol, maybe some Bloc Party, and that’s it.  I wonder how retarded I might get??

I’m taking a poll.  What do you think would happen?  I don’t care if this is a good idea, I just need to look at all the possible outcomes.  I figure I need to teach my body and mind a lesson.  This could be perfect.

Sidenote: This morning on the news, I saw a four person tandem designed for a family of four to ride to their vacation.  I got to thinking how quickly my family members would hurt each other if we had such a contraption.  If I had a four person tandem, I think I would fill it with T-bird, Dietrich, and Rock Hudson or Jones, just so I wouldn’t get bored on the ride.

I’m off to Higher Ground today.

Latah,

BB

but even I have my moments.  It’s summer solstice in Tucson and I’m grouchy.  I’m ranting about the things that annoyed me yesterday (I’ve even had a good night’s sleep to simmer):

- Tucson police found a baby goat in a hot car at the University Medical Center.  The goat was near death and the couple has been arrested. They had footage of the goat on the news frolicking around so we know he is ok.  huh?!

- It’s hot, sure, but please, please, when you pull away from a red light or stop sign, please hit the gas pedal and accelerate.  There are others that would like to proceed in a forward direction so don’t just roll away like you are in neutral. 

- We are working on a 10 million dollar house that is complete.  The only people there are us (the painters), the landscapers, and a couple of electricians.  This house is insane and they will not turn on the AC because they are frugal.  HOW ABOUT A FEW LESS GRANITE COUNTERTOPS OR RARE WOOD CABINETS FOR THE SAKE OF HUMANITY?!?!  Even if the thermostat was set at 90, it would be a dream.  I was lusterstoning (with a trowel) on top of 25 foot scaffolding yesterday and refused to get down because I thought I had lost all motor function.  It must have been 115 up there.  My co-workers helped me, thankfully….oh, yea, and we also took a nap on the granite counter tops in front of the fan after lunch in the library because we were too hot to move.  That’s efficiency.

-Suicide.  Tell you what.  If you talk about doing it, I will get pissed but will do everything in my power to help you.  If you do it, I will never, ever get over my anger.  So don’t even consider it.  I am somewhat of an unfortunate expert in the field, so I feel comfortable taking a hardnosed stance on it.

-It’s no secret I have the immune system of an 88 year old.  I am now on antibiotics for an infection I developed on the bottom of my foot stemming from a blister.  This is crap.  I have had numerous bouts with infections gone haywire (since I was 4 years old) so when I saw the streaking up to my core, I had to visit the doc. bullshit. I figured the real cause to be the dancefloor at the wedding this past weekend where Rubelt announced, “Next time when the dance floor heats up from my moves you should stand to the side…..”

Ok, that’s all I got.  I’m going for a ride now as a warmup to my 110 degree work day.  I’m headed to Fitchburg next week so I have to make sure I can ride for 4 consecutive days.

Peace out, 

BB 

Sheba Ferrin reports

“the first stupidly hot day of the year and a quality field
of 40 or 50 riders greeted us for this downtown course
race. the heat and the incredible attacks by liz and
michele took their toll, thinning out the numbers in the
field. jessie got popped, i took part in one decent coutner
attack and then let the girls know that i was a lame duck
in their midst. a nod from liz let me know i was covered.
i can’t say enough about the show that liz and michele put
on…attack after attack. i just held on, counting laps to
go.
then something crazy hapened. liz was first through the
last corner and about to take a $60 prime and her wheel
somehow slid from underneath her. our teammate is okay.
repeat, she is ok. but she has a fractured scapula, which
is a shoulderblade. we think that she will most likely be
fine and catching up with us again by fitchburg (despite
what those silly emergency room doctors say!) but it will
take a couple days to be certain of that. everyone cross
your fingers and your toes.
so anyway, with liz gone, michele took on the strength of
two teammates! booty, you were incredible today. following
every move, creating opportunities, protecting lil ol me.
with 2 to go michele did what we now call “the broeder”,
tapping my hip as she came by my right side. she held us in
the top 6 until halfway through the last lap where she
pulled us forward into a single file line in second and
third. i saw that verducci girl get a teeny tiny gap on
michele right before the last corner…well, she beat us to
the punch but after we came around the last corner i yelled
to michele to go and saw that we had too much speed for
anyone to challenge our position, despite the distance to
the line (what was it, like 10 miles or something?).
i found liz in an ambulance. michele brought us dry clothes
at the hospital; nikki, who is a little sick today, came
and picked us up hours later. cory, who is doing great
after her wrist surgery last friday, refused to report on
her own health until i let her know how liz was doing…
the usual sentiment applies- i love my team.”

Sheba Ferrin

  

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Zoomed up to Flag on Friday to get the heck out of the inferno that is Tucson. I’ve got a case of the Mondays cuz I had such a darn good weekend. Here are the Rules for Flagstaff:

Rule #1. Spend 99% of time outside from the late night you got there to when you climb into car to leave at 4:30 am.

Rule #2: Witness the reason Rubelt (see pic) is such a good friend of mine (well, there are heaps of reasons, but): we are of the same stock, right down to the way he taps on the top of a warm beer can, flies by the seat of his pants, and has that glimmer of harmless trouble in his eye. Rubelt is one of those good, life-long friends that doesn’t shy away from not giving a damn about what people think. When homesick and can’t get up to MT, Rubelt is the next best thing (although Idaho and Montana are not the same…).

Rule #3: Decide to go camping at midnight and be above 8000 feet by 12:14 am, give or take.

Rule #4: Be sung to sleep by an amazing voice and guitar in the chilly woods late at night.

Rule #5. Learn how to folf after eating two platefuls of Benson’s French Toast and hope not get too much shit for lobbing disks in opposite direction over and over again.

Rule #6: Decide to go to a wedding (uninvited?) fifteen minutes before leaving. Get there and realize you don’t at all fit into the theme of the party (Roarin’ 20s), sip on beer outside (glomp, glomp, glomp), meet some great peeps that don’t talk bikes nonstop, do the running man to classic 80s tracks, be an idiot, cause a ruckus, stumble over to hypoxic chamber for sleep training (sleeping=workout), then remember that you better figure out how to get the happy couple a wedding gift for all the fun and debauchery you partook in.

Rule #7. After said adventure and #6, be put through the ringer on the back of a moto by Rubelt (who gets a flat so you think yourself off the hook, but he fixes it , then he finds you, drags your ass back, then he flats it again only AFTER you have shattered to a million moto-ed pieces) so you leave him for dead near smoke so that Adam can pick him up with truck.

Rule #8: Be with people you feel you’ve known for years who really know how to live.

Rule #9: Partake in J. Benson’s Black RockRammer at Late For The Train Coffee

Rule #10: Skip group ride after rule #9 and signature Flag Breakfast of Chillachias (??) and opt for good weather and good company ride with Adam.

Rule #11: Go back for more next weekend.

BB

I am looking to share my condo in Tucson.  I know.  It’s June and it’s unbelievably hot.  But, I have discovered that it gets hot other places, too.  Like Boulder and DC.  Awright, who is kidding.  It’s hot and it stays hot here until oh, until the world ends.

Here’s a list of my requirements for a townhousemate:

1. Must pay me $500 per month

2. Must be either mute or hilarious

3. May NOT move out in the middle of the night, stealing my car, while I am drunk and out for a walk.

4. Must either make me food, or get out of my way in the kitchen.

5. Must not break my scooter, DVD player, computer, and railing all in the same week. Please pace yourself when breaking my shit.

6. Must have sound on their computer cuz I have none on mine.

7. Must like long walks in the park, so I can be alone from time to time.

8. Must try to help or pretend to help if I lock myself out of my own house.

9. If bags explode, they must do so away from my exploding bags.

10. Must throw empty 40s into the recycling bin, not into the street.

11. Must not be a creepy guy named Julio who tells me at work that he ‘can make me happy, no? Yes. Yes.’.

Another Roomie Sort-of Wanted for Short Term Living Arrangement (like really short term, I’m assuming, like couple of hours if talkative, couple more hours if mute type of living situation) received via IM from Minnesota: “becky, I have my own room at the Nature Valley Grand Prix for the week, and Ill be honest with you, last week I had Gritters as a roommate, and now I miss him, So i am quite lonely in here. If you could find me some company for the week, or portions of the week it would be greatly appreciated. Potential roommates need not have references, morals or a boyfriend. Thanks Becky.

Comments, questions, concerns and violations of the law welcome in comment box below.

Thank you,

BB