.

….how long was I out?

Interbike ‘06 was a doozy. I never got around to even getting my working media pass (ooops- just too many shiney things falling into my path on the way to the media room, I guess), so I have no news to report. To be honest, Sheebs and I were lucky to get to the show before 3 pm each day. I was not qualified to get the breaking info, but that’s ok cuz I know nothing about breaking info. I saw bikes. Heaps of them. At the very least, I did meet and hang with some of the coolest people I’ve met in a long time: Kim, Jill, Sheeba and the gang.

Here’s the brief rundown from what I vaguely remember seeing:

The Sinclair Party was as the Sinclair Party generally is, except no free booze this year, and a proper 35 guy to 1 girl ratio. Uncomfortable. For many.

I stayed with the Messenger Contingent of Interbike and had an absolute blast. Oh hell. I can’t even begin on this one. I do have to mention the Gold Sprint Session in a sweet room in the Venetian, THE most confusing hotel on the strip. And speaking of Strip, the crew had full use of the main pool back there. Stationary match sprints, lots of beer, one topple over incident, and naked people all over.

The day pass on the rollercoaster at the Sahara was OFF THE HOOK, YO. I am wrecked, as the thing, part of the NASCAR themed hotel, goes from 0 to 70mph in FOUR SECONDS, then tops out at 90+. It was like being shot out of a cannon and having an orgasm at the same time. Sheebs and I found some cool Vancouverites to spend hours on the thing with us. I think we managed about ten goes. Then my legs just plain didn’t work anymore.

Platinum, the “neighborhood strip club” as it was described to us by one of the only non-crooked cabbies we encountered. THESE ARE THE PEOPLE IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD……. I sang my favorite song, Don’t Stop Believing at the club, but did not get a lap dance or strip, for the record.

Although Cippo’s chest was impressive, I believe I was equally, if not more impressed with my new friend’s bike descent down the flights of stairs near the escalators at the Winn at 4:30 am. Right by security guards and not so much as a peep.

Hangin with Cleez and Skyles on whatever-day-that-was got me my quality time with the homeboys, as did getting to finally hang with my old coach and pal, Alex Gallego of MBW in Missoula.

Flag’s own SHINDAGGERS at the Double Down the other night.  SO f-n LOUD!!! YEAAAH!

I think I could continue but just hit a major low. I feel like I’ve been gone for years, but actually, I think it may have only been three days? No way. The mind went after day one when three of us went to a breakfast buffet where the bill was $30 and I had to ask what that was per person. The spleen went the next day and I’m fairly certain the liver was last night or this morning. Keeping track of the days by damage done to organs. Who needs a watch?

More pics on the Paparrazi page, if I can manage it.

BB

Breaking news from our headquarters in Tucson, AZ, 7 pm MST, but we don’t have daylight savings, so what the hell is that, Pacific Time??

Becky Broeder Understands Gila Monster Language

After several years, several years ago, in a graduate linguistics program at the University of MT, cyclist and human Broeder, wondered if she learned anything.  Today it became apparent that after a little hindsight, she does, in fact, understand Gila Monsterese.  “I was running at less than break neck speed when out of the corner of my ear, I heard some wicked hissing.  I hear this a lot and it’s usually from humans so when I heard it after not seeing another human in three hours or so, I was on red flag alert.”.  Broeder had gone out into the Catalinas with the sole purpose of getting ‘lost’ and managed to do so.  “The damn thing lunged at me, he was like, 20 pounds (seriously NO exaggeration) and hissed some spitty shit”. Gila monsters are known to be venomous, much more so than rattlesnakes though, “less aggressive, I have been told”, said Broeder.  “I looked at the damn thing, like ‘are you serious?!?!  You look like you are made of sequins and move at about the speed of a damn snail.  Seriously?!?’.  The conclusion was, ‘yes, seriously.  I watched him lumber off, pissed to high heaven and thought about it for the next half hour or so’.  After continuing on and passing some f-d up stuff, she encountered a sign that crossed a path stating ‘high risk for Mountain Lion Danger..very recent activity’ yet still no humans at all.  Feeling a bit like bait, she eventually turned and made her way down a coulee only to find herself on the wrong side of orange fencing.  There were several puzzled faces there to greet Broeder as she scrambled up a dirt hill to get to the human side of the orange fencing.  After the bewildered human looks has ceased, Broeder took one hard look at the huge sign on the orange fencing that read, ‘BEWARE! NO TRESPASSING!!…Closed Wilderness area…Flood destruction…VIOLATORS WILL BE SUBJECT TO $5000 FINE and 6 months IMPRISIONMENT’.  Gila Monster was right.  He was telling Broeder to get out. ‘Sometimes I guess I need a sequined black and red dinosaur to lunge at my calf to get a point’, Broeder admitted.

Studies show that people have ‘TANK TOP DAYS’

Men that look in the mirror while wearing tank tops and proceed with the day by wearing only a tank top are having a “HA!  YEA!  Dang, I look GOOD!” Day.  Interior Design student and fashion critic, Bryan Sc. admitted that he has been provoked by such feelings but has been stopped before leaving the house, “if I were to do that, I might as well be dressed in drag with a rainbow flag as a shall”.  The Tank Only look is especially indicative of excessive i-look-good-ness when paired with a farmer’s tan, tight jeans, and tenny runners.  Gold chains thrown into the equation are also a clear sign of self-esteem dillusion.  For violators of this social tennant, please alert Bryan at 1.800. I spy bad.

Travel Tip from a fellow cyclist

Who, oddly, is still racing: “ma’am, since you are traveling to El Salvador I think the flights are pretty full so one of your bags might not arrive- which one would you like to arrive first and the other one later?”.  Good to know.  Options.  So pack accordingly.

Business News:  Two Cyclists Looking for Money for Debts Start Underground Spinach Traffiking.

Hugh Moran and Becky Broeder plan to bring anemia to a halt in the US.  Spinach is still alive and kicking in Trinidad and Tobego, as is Hugh, and Broeder sees this as the perfect opportunity to bring the US a hot commodity.  “Schmatz told me that spinach is not even in Colorado and that is just wrong.  He also mentioned that dirty Fresno is responsible.  I see this as the only option to give us Americans what we need”.  Disguised in a fancy love letter writing campaign fronting a Valium Drug scam, fresh spinach will be stashed in Valium bottles and shipped to Broeder for consumption as soon as after Interbike.  ‘My first shipment will be local to Dietrich then the rest will be driven to Colorado.’, assured Broeder.

Track Debuts Are Ugly

On the cusp of ‘Track Camp’, findings have indicated that debuting on the track can ‘not go so well’ according to eye witnesses in an undisclosed track town in the US.  This is why this author may never debut.  Our Bejing Hope might not be found in the roadsters among us. I’m guessing.  Just a guess.  Just an uneducated opinion.

That’s the news.  Have a hell of a night.
BB

Like Interbike ‘06. KJ is coming. My perfect sidekick.  I am on a roll, I have a wedding proposal on the table, and Cleez and Skiiiiiles will be there. What the heck else does a girl need?  Sounds like a Good Damn Time recipe…

Sheeby and KJ are in charge of my actions, I’m deeming. So…yea, I said I’d never date a biker, so what the hay. I’ll skip the ‘date’ part, and maybe just go straight to the ‘marry’ part.

or not.

Let me clarify.  The whole marriage is contingent upon a Casino Heist.

So, if we don’t succeed, I am leaving him at the alter.  If we do, I’m leaving him at the alter and leaving you all.

Anyway…John Benson, one of the cool(est) kids, has a gig with the Shindaggers, THE garage band of ‘06, ‘07, ‘08 and ‘09, and will be at the DOUBLE DOWN on Wed night.  This is prolly the purpose of my trip right herrrre.  That, and I’m a Serfas girl.  GO TO THE DOUBLE DOWN.  You will not be disappointed, as I would not miss this for anything.

Have a good weekend,

BB

I know I’m an Aquarian when I try to relay a concept and all I can think of is water.  Today, this week actually, has been one of those weeks that Jeff used to fear (ask me later who Jeff is…). He used to plead with me to stop it.  The changing.  The Epiphany. Partly a subconscious thing, partly saw it coming weeks ago.  Today, I woke up and felt nervous because I knew without knowing that it was one of those days that I would proceed with changing the entire course of my life.

I remember when I was a kid….  I swam a lot.  Was pretty good.  Was tentative about some things though. I Went off the ‘middle board’ a couple of times in preparation for the “high dive”.  I thought long and hard about the day I would go off the high dive, and was over the ’middle dive’, where the others were. I didn’t find any allure to the middle dive once I had my goal set.  I was better than the ’middle dive’ and knew it through and through.  I was a young high diver, if you will, but wanted it so badly, I could taste it.  So, I went up the high dive.  Mom and Dad were there.  I stood there and looked down.  I wasn’t ready.  Even though hoards of people were screaming encouragement, I climbed back down the stairs as a lanky little kid, not ashamed. I wasn’t ready.  I thought some more.  I went up the million (more…)

and other stuff to see and do: www.thebikegame.com

Good news for those of us that thought we had or have ADD or ADHD.  A study has shown that suffers of this mysterious and elusive condition can actually use semantics to redefine their condition.  What started as an off-handed comment to a professional cyclist that can only be described as,  ‘a stunning person’, has led two researchers, perhaps just one in particular, to develop an entirely new way of viewing ADD / ADHD. 

The study began benignly, as one researcher mentioned a ’short attention span’ to the other, who responded with, ‘I have a very long attention span…I just bore easily (he was surely meaning that he gets bored easily, rather than bores others easily, ’cause that just could not be)’.  Researcher #1 then went to bed and began a new hypothesis: what if ADD/ADHD sufferers are actually CHOOSING to not pay attention.  What if ADHD/ADD sufferers are not, in fact, unable to focus, but decide to focus accutely on something entirely different before the norm.  What if ADD/ADHD sufferers are so finely focused that they can not be bothered focusing on that which does not interest them any further because something else NEEDS an immense amount of focus at that particular time?  ADHD/ADD is not a condition or disability then, it’s empowerment.  It is a choice.  A choice to gather one’s focus and refocus in a different direction.

Researcher #1 thought about this until an interesting song came on her ipod (her friend’s borrowed ipod) then turned her full attention to the song’s lyrics.  Her focus then was shifted to where she wanted to run tomorrow, then accutely back to wondering if Jake made it out of Puerto Rico okay and if Hugh is out of Trinidad and Tobego, where she hypothesized on what language they speak in Trinidad and Tobego and if Emile was really kicked out of Bermuda by the Bermudian Government. She was then cracked up by a story that led to her thinking about a joke which she could not remember the punchline of.  She thought on recalling this for 3.98 seconds then wondered if she should tell researcher #2 of her findings and before she came up with an answer, a knat was heard buzzing around her ear so she chose to shift her fine focus skills to knats in Arizona and what the possible life span of them will be when the monsoons are over and, remembering that she heard that the monsoons will end on Wednesday then beginning to formulate a theory on how they could possibly know that, and is that weatherman gay?, she shifted her research to the crazy swimming little fish/bugs she had seen earlier in the day and it saddened her that those cute little creatures will perish soon.

The study continues,

BB

I’ve taken a nice ‘people-break’ this weekend, save two marathon phone convos and several texts to and from Trinidad and Tobego.  I was super sick and as I tend to do, I gave myself a ONE WEEk timeline to get better or I was moving on.  I moved on, a week to the day, shortly after getting my hands on some antibiotics.  Dang, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that anymore but it’s so simple, so simply so much better.

But, one of my favorite things about myself is that no matter what time of year, sick or healthy, drunk or sober, sane or not, strong or weak, I can roll out of bed and log an 8+ mile trail run with relatively no bad consequences.  I ran up to Finger Rock yesterday (some may say that it looks like a pinky finger, but I think it’s flipping all of Tucson off) in the Catalinas. Today was much more eventful as I did a bit of bushwhacking and ended up at a waterfall in the Rincon range.  I stood there, after bouldering up a bit, in awe of, yes, a waterfall in Tucson and then the NAKED MAN bathing in front of me, full frontal nudity. The landscape was so big, I guess I didn’t see him at first.  Our conversation was:

ME: Hi.

Him: Whoa.

ME: yea.

the end.  I scurried off.

I was raised in the Badlands of Eastern Montana, where my playground, right (more…)

I wasn’t going to complain about this cuz I don’t like complainers, but I have been sick all week with some lingering “Bad Behaviour Bug”. For those that aren’t regular readers and haven’t heard my past complaints, I get sick really easily and if I act like an ass, it is certain that the punishment is illness for a little bit.  It’s like 2+2 = 4.  Pretty simple equation. In this case: Atlanta bad behaviour + Bermuda bad behaviour = Random congestion and misery.

But announcing that I don’t want to go to heaven seemed to heighten the situation as I nearly just coughed up my trachea. I was kidding.  I retract!  I repent!  I advise y’all to zip it on such matters.

Curses,

BB

I was thinking about Heaven and whether or not I want to go there.  I think this whole notion began from some silly myspace questionaire question regarding whether or not I believe in heaven.  I got to thinking about the ‘heaven’ I was accustomed to in CCD (if you were raised Catholic, you know CCD all too well).  CCD consisted of years and years of religious education on Wednesdays after school.  Er, was meant for religious education, that is, but actually consisted of me and my fellow Catholic classmates pissing off nuns (we called the head nun “Twisted Sister”), stealing Communion wine and eating the Body Of Christ wafers like they were Nilla wafer snacks.  To this day, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard as I did regularly in Confessional (that is soooo bad.). I repented, though.

Back to heaven.  I don’t want to go.  Here is why:  I really like pain and suffering.  The mere thought of being comfortable and having peaceful talks with Jesus has always made me extremely nervous.  Which led me to think: hold up.  I’m on to something here.  Here is why heaven may include a whole lot of pain and suffering for me.

1. I hate the sound of Harps.  It’s like fingernails on a chalkboard.

2. I don’t really like being at a party where I don’t know anyone and I think that all the types I am used to rolling with will not be there so I’d be forced out of my comfort zone on miggling.

3. I hate birds.  They make me shutter. I think heaven is full of doves.

4. I think toga-type gowns are really uncomfortable.  Will I be able to customize mine?

5. The thought of sitting still on a cloud is painful.  I imagine actually sitting still on a cloud is neigh impossible for me.  There’s a heaven endurance test for me.

6. I don’t like other people’s children so much so I think I would be suffering on the inside with all the children running around without parents. Just imagine it.

7. Can you argue in heaven or do you just have to agree all the time?

Heaven is starting to look like hell.  Wrong kind of pain and suffering.  The mere act of my putting up with heaven would be so that I could get rewarded with something else.  Like Hell?

Help me out here,

BB