Christmas time in Portland

You can thank me later!

Fantasy life.

Me and the Dude

This pretty much sums me up right now....minus the white russian. Dude 1, Me 0.

Merritt College whiners dig this....

Pretty certain this was a Velopromo race.

Zimoun via Morgan.

Zimoun : Sound Sculptures & Installations | Compilation Video V2.0 from ZIMOUN VIDEO ARCHIVE on Vimeo.

Toast Jam!

3 batches of Bing, 2 batches of Sour Cherry, and 3 batches of Olallie! To the untrained eye, that looks like a lot of jam, but trust me, it's barely enough. Oh, and the maslin pan changed my life (as much as a pan can do such a thing).

I have tears in my eyes...

P1000593, originally uploaded by jknotzke.

such a beautiful thing

Wanna play "Go Fish" or "Run Commrade Run! it's a Yperite Attack!"

I'm not really sure what the objectives of this or some of the other games are, but I'm pretty sure they are probably nothing like Candy Land. Pat, little help?

Sometimes...

...riding is just not that fun. Period.

!nice ride.

Pictured is what I'd call a 'Nice Ride', a '55 Bel Air Wagon. It was parked at my local Safeway yesterday. Doubtful if that was a stock color, but jeet sweesus, who cares! Doesn't' it just cry out to be the new Speedvagen Team car?

What I do at lunch is not, however, is not a nice ride. Ya see, I train during my lunch hour. I don't want to train at lunch. I'd rather go to Vik's. I'd rather ride after work. I'd rather come home late and eat dinner on the sofa with my legs up. But such is not my life, so I ride at lunch. Almost without fail, someone will ask as I stink my way back to my office if I had a nice ride. I use to say "Yes". I would tell them what they expected to hear. I use to lie. My rides are never nice. I don't have the hours for 'nice'. Mine are invariably some form of 'ugly'. They range from slightly off-putting to down right Rob Zombie. As a result, my co-workers will no longer ride with me. So I'm alone in my misery, talkin' crazy talk to no one. But I no longer lie.

Here Kitty Kitty!

Last year I got bupkis. This year I got's Boozleys and a small child and that was for 4th place! Ya see, once cross season ends, there's not much to motivate in the off-season. I usually schedule some idiocy mid-year just to give myself something at which to throw darts. Enter the East Bay Rally Cat. My favoritest "race" of that other season. Why is it so great you ask? Do tell.

Great Location? 5 miles from my house!
Great Course? Check!
Great Promoter? Got it!
Great Prizes? Did I mention pickles and kids?
HUGE Purse? BANG!
Great after-party? Yeppers!
Great crowd? in Spades!
Even an illustrious dignitary and PuddinPie!
oh, and entry fee was a fin!

This year was the 2nd annual. 86 bandits. Gone were the unmanned checkpoints, but an ad hoc route between checkpoints 3 & 4 was added. This would prove to be my Flutie. For those unfamiliar (mainly my sisters, the only ones who read this rag), an alley cat is to formal bike racing what a hash run is to the Olympic 10k. You're given a map (Sorry Mary, no ham sandwiches) with checkpoints and sent on your way to navigate a route somewhat of your choosing, collecting stamps along the way. Hopefully you arrive back safely at the keg, er finish line. There are no race numbers, no team tents, no PA system, no race officials. Go Hard, have fun, don't get run over. That's about it. There is always much discussion before the start as to the best routes, the subtle difference between cheating and being cheeky, and how to pull a Rosie Ruiz without getting caught. Successful execution of the latter at this type of event is to be lauded. And while a party atmosphere abounds, the race can be anything but a picnic if you so choose. This year again sent us straight up Tunnel Rd (a 4+ mile climb) and again the pace was brutal. Krishna, Kea, Jon (you bastard), James and a few other nutjobs (Fred?) were killin' it at the front. I clung about 20 meters back. I tried to go with Mark as he bridged up to the lead of 5 or 6 and paid dearly. I backed off, got passed by a few, regrouped, passed a few back, and hit the first checkpoint in about 9th place, maybe a minute back of the leaders. What followed was the crazed mud slick decent in Sibley. I completely forgot how to go downhill, got passed by Murphy, Blake and probably a few others, but passed Murphy back on the butt-steep climb to the water tower (another 2 mile buster where the 1st mile averages 9.5%) . I could see a few other riders strung out on the ridge, but the leaders were now all but gone. At the trail turn off to the tower, I saw a few heading up the ridge, missing the split. "HEY, YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY", I whispered. There, I tried. Once past the water tower, I tip-toed down Pinehurst and settled into tempo trying to save something for the final 6+ mile climb to the third checkpoint. I knew Adam had passed Murphy as well up to the tower so he couldn't be far back. I looked to see him at about 300 meters. I sat up a tad, waiting for the catch so we could work together along the false flats. A minute later, as I looked to check on his progress, a freight train come barreling past. HOLY CRAP! Adam AND Murphy had latched onto some HOSS of a roadie who was driving the pace Hard. I jumped HAAARDerrrr and barely become the caboose as we steamed at 28MPH through the rollers. Didn't have to take a single pull. It was worth it. I was one very Happy Noodle. At the base of south Pinehurst, no one pushed it. We all knew what was coming...the self mortification that is Eastridge trail. Once there, Murphy poured it on and took off. Mercifully, the climb wasn't the wet clay mess of last year so my choice of file treads made me look like Wile E. Coyote. Adam and I yo-yo'ed a bit as two young upstarts had the nerve to catch AND pass us (and Murphy as well). Adam dropped off the pace as I tried in vain to keep those three in site. I was also cramping bad and there was something in my jersey pocket pressing like a rock on my lower back bugging the heck outta me! What the hell was that thing?! Oh Jeet Sweebus. A water bottle. Yeah, now I remember. I'm suppose to be drinking that. Somehow, four of us regroup at Skyline Gate. Click the link. See. Don't I just look daisy fresh. I'm now running 13th. If you remember, it was from this point on that you were on your own. Anyway you could get to checkpoint 4 was fair game. If you followed the map, you were in for another 3+ miles of rolling trails and some hairball decsents. I had no intention of doing any such thing (like last year). I hopped on to Skyline with Murphy and the two youngsters in tow. As we rode along, I was wondering if they were thinking what I was thinking...bust it down Castle and come at the cabin from the opposite direction? Only one way to find out...play dead. I was looking the part anyway. As we approached Moongate, I upped the tempo, took a pull , then faded to the back as we rounded the bend. They held the pace and I faded a bit more. As they swept left, passing the point of no return, I grabbed a handful of binder and dropped it hard right down the descent. A quick look back...Nada! MUWAHAHA! I flew down as fast as I dare, not wanting to miss the unmarked exit of the trail. There it was...with lots of fresh tracks to boot. No sooner had I headed in when Krishna and Kea came flying out...a few seconds later and here came Jeff, Matthias, Mark and a few of the others from the original lead group. So I wasn't the only one with this tidbit of knowledge. I stormed to the cabin trail, stashed the bike, ran down, got the stamp and scrambled back up. I flew back out and rode the last miles to the lake solo, 9th overall! But wait, what,s this...Mark and Jeff had missed the water tower, which put me 7th! Matthias, Kea and some other freak of nature were on SS cross rigs and in a category of their own. That put me 4th in the gear afflicted! Be still my heart! Was I in the "money". Was there enough schwag to go that deep. I decided to use the Force. "You do not want the Bread&Butter pickles". "They will only aggrivate your diverticulitis". "That De La Paz Coffee smells sooo good". Sunshine, CX, Pickles, Family, A very good day. Tip hats to Evan and Jason. Thanks Everyone for the photos.

Check out the streams.

Jon flickr set
Jenny flickr set
hotMARK Flickr set

p.s. PuddinPie, I really didn't want to go that hard. Jon made me.

I've been waiting for this my WHOLE life!

Crappy.

We're sitting outside the Majestic just a few doors down from the Plaza...drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, shootin' shine. Nothing much. The movie has just let out. Frankie says, in almost a whisper, "Isn't that Alie?"I turn and look. I see her. She's holding his hand. She looks happy. I realize she looks happier than I've ever seen her...with me that is. She sees me seeing her and the expression changes to one of profound sadness. No, not sadness, pity. Profound pity, as if to say "Awe Gee, I really didn't mean for you to find out this way." The silence at the table is glacial. "That's cold" someone finally says. I'm not sure who said it. I no longer recognize the voices of my own friends. I'm too numb to notice.

While supplies last!

Total War

Saw a specialist yesterday. He took a look at the CT, looked at the previous med courses and decided on the William Tecumseh Sherman approach. Took me off the Moxifloxacin, put me on a 21 day run of Augmentin (basically the amoxycillin I was on but with an added beta-lactamase inhibitor...damn those pesky beta-lactams) and a 10 day run of prednisone (yikes!). He compared the nasal steroid I was on to "pissing in the ocean" compared to the prednisone. That's her in the picture. She is one mean looking lady. Careful, there's a brick in her purse.

Mr Know-it-all.

I've glued hundreds of tires over the years and have perfected my system simply from making almost as many mistakes. I've pretty much got it dialed now though, or so I thought. Zank's post is the best compendium I've seen to date. I even picked up a new trick re: the srynges. I was gluing tires a few weeks back thinking there had to be a better way...and Shazaam! Thanks Zank. I'm also feeling a bit smuggish, as I've been taping cross tires going on 6-7 yrs now! Pthfffft!

post scriptum. I'll repost many of the pics and much of the text shortly for those of you who don't have/want to join velocipede salon.

Honey, bring me my gun. Bring me my biggest gun!

Well, it's not really the biggest gun, but it's pretty big. After developing the symptoms AGAIN, the Doc ordered a CT scan. The bad news is that I have bilateral sinusitis. The good news is that I have bilateral sinusitis, so least they know what they're treating. That makes three bouts in 4 months. Actually, it probably never went away. Two 1o day runs of Amoxicillin weren't enough. So now I'm on Moxifloxacin. That's her in the picture. Pretty hot as far as small molecules go don't you think? Just look at how that cyclopropyl group dangles so tantalizingly off the quinolone. Toooo sexy. Anyway, it's a big time broad-spectrum antibacterial, strong enough to kill almost any bug w/in a 10 foot radius. It make me feel pretty nauseous in the 1st hour, but I'll deal if it will clear this up. I'm also headed to a specialist tomorrow to see why it might be recurring. Hey, I'll take any excuse I can get to explain away this past cross season.

S'over.

I raced one last time. I thought I had gotten a little fitness back. Well, I did, but it was very little. Not enough to match what others already had. Not even close. That was a real hard pill. While it may look like I had fun, I did not. It was not the storybook ending to the season I had envisioned. I couldn't salvage jack the latter part of the it despite what I thought was a decent effort. Instead, in my final attempt to get a point or two, I flatted, cutting the sidewall of an FMB, pitted, gutted out a half lap on the SS, pitted back to the gearie, flatted again, ran 1/2 a lap, pitted, puked it on the SS for another half a lap, and pitted again to finish on the gearie. Thanks to my KPTO mates for the wheels changes. I owe you each a sock in the nose. Couldn't you have just let me die in peace. All I know is, someone had it worse than me as I wasn't DFL. I destroyed more equipement and pitted more times this season that I have in the last 4 combined. I batted one for three on season goals. .333 in baseball gets you signed. In my line of work it gets you fired. At first, I was pretty down in the dumps about the whole mess. When I was finally getting better, someone asked how my season was going and I said "disasterous". That's plain silly. Truth is, I'm lucky to still be racing at all. Thanks to my family for all the support. It matters. A lot.

Where's the ketchup at!

I've been slackin'. If you don't already visit these sites, they're worth checking out. I've been meaning to add them for months. Pave. Good Commentary (but black backgrounds make me carsick),
Velogogo. Pretty Pictures,
Cyclocosm. More good commentary,
Emrocation. What he just said.
Now go waste more time.

Making amends.

I hope this will purge the last post from your brain, A tall order for sure.

DEAR GOD!

I almost want to apologize for posting this...please dont' ask how I found it.

Worst....Band....EVR!

But they are so damn cute I bet they go platinum.

Science always has an answer!

But sometimes it's just not the answer we want.

Why I Don't Have a Girlfriend.

Race report #10. It gets worse!

In a lame attempt to salvage this season, I chose to train too hard, race the wrong tires (see pic), and choose the wrong gear again. File treads? What was I smokin'?!?!?! 42x17? I must be insane.

Race Report #9. Bah! Humbug!

Grrr. Felt like crap. Picked the wrong gear. suffered mightily.
This season sux!

Cyclocross. Something for everyone.

This either needs no explanation or one that is longer than I'm prepared to give...

Cyclocross Fixie from Baylor Blessing on Vimeo.

Thanks Baylor Blessing.

HOLY MOLY!

So what if you crossed the the Andrew sisters with Cirque de Soleil? I think you might get the Ross sisters! Jebus!

Artitst Johannes Vogl. Enjoy!

Bicycles parts and hairspray = Wonderful Mosquito Abatement.



















Fishing Pole + kite.

Christmas isn't over until the tree is in orbit.

I'm so glad I forgot to set the tree out by the curb today!

Nice.

Alma from Rodrigo Blaas on Vimeo.