tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19124999968081384032024-02-02T13:47:05.806-08:00VeloDCVelo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-3169580495820538292012-07-27T08:41:00.001-07:002012-07-27T08:41:25.441-07:00Back in the saddle again againWell now, between all those things that happen to you when you get to the point in life where your running low on future and then having this project and that project take over, I've been a bad blogger. <br />
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The old age aches and pains just won't seem to go away. Problem is they be turning to more than aches and pains and let me tell ya they're proving to be a real pain. But stiff upper lip what? (What the hail does that even mean?)<br />
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So I've also been involved in this music project that has finally completed, couple of months overdue, and a good year plus worth of work. And I'm happy to say you can now even buy the darn thing on <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/bicycle/id547364849" target="_blank">iTunes</a>.<br />
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the group is Nora and One Left and the name of the album is<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAvxPEu0VUzg_nCcgChho_rleIjjnldkuFustpYJ3tRq2SEGYPwNLy792za7WIO3gPPn5FKgufKFjcbCq-bFl4vT_aOirAHoNwZBdamNnhjkkYSHbnGfm3UkWqsyqLzaBT7xh2VHv8Ke4I/s1600/newestCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAvxPEu0VUzg_nCcgChho_rleIjjnldkuFustpYJ3tRq2SEGYPwNLy792za7WIO3gPPn5FKgufKFjcbCq-bFl4vT_aOirAHoNwZBdamNnhjkkYSHbnGfm3UkWqsyqLzaBT7xh2VHv8Ke4I/s320/newestCover.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Yep, there's songs about biking here and a few other ditties.<br />
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Now, about my part. Let me just say that on one song you'll hear some of the best whistling that's ever been recorded. Not since those spaghetti westerns has such fine whistling been available to the general listening public. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWeEzmuDksZfXEMU0tXHozD-N0EkiC5fpxW79TdyWChDgujeWyl2AKkspklOzAeASnaoq0FOYpoGqww_vxIHFJ5SU2xeuO2RihpnEeI5jhljVghDogguQRAOt8EbUhwhfW1GMzKlEsF_T/s1600/Whistling_Boy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWeEzmuDksZfXEMU0tXHozD-N0EkiC5fpxW79TdyWChDgujeWyl2AKkspklOzAeASnaoq0FOYpoGqww_vxIHFJ5SU2xeuO2RihpnEeI5jhljVghDogguQRAOt8EbUhwhfW1GMzKlEsF_T/s1600/Whistling_Boy.png" /></a></div>
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So if you get in the mood head on over to iTunes and give it a listen.</div>
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<br />Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-21399143804804353972012-05-23T20:48:00.000-07:002012-05-24T12:15:11.969-07:00Saints beholdAfter returning from a ride I noticed a couple of blokes moseying on up to the door with bikes by their side. As I was not expecting company because I never expect company and company never comes I figured they were selling something and I pondered not answering the door but my curiosity got the best of me.<br />
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Turns out there were selling saving. Specifically they seemed real intent on selling me the way to saving my lost soul. Now my soul has been lost a good long while and I wasn't sure a couple of young men rolling about on fixies were going to be much help. But being a nice guy, and it being kinda muggy out, I did ask them if they needed some water or something.<br />
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So I got them a couple of glasses of ice water and they were real nice blokes and they seemed intent on me listening to their pitch. Problem is I've heard the pitch. My sister is a Mormon and these were good Mormon lads out doing their soul saving best. So I politely told them that I was well aware of the offerings but there would be no saving today. I was however curious how they came to be on fixies and turns out the church furnishes them for the lads. That's kinda clever of the church. If you're going to send them out into the day trying to convince people to throw away all logic and reason at least have them do it on something that will keep them ever so close to their maker. Take away the brakes and send them on their way. If that don't put the fear of God in ya nothing will.<br />
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There's even a place that sells <a href="http://www.ctrbikes.com/sitetools/product.php" target="_blank">bikes</a> just for these blokes. "Helping you carry the message". Catchy.</div>
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The Mormons have this belief that when someone dies you can still save their damned soul by baptising them in the church. My sister once asked me if she could do that when I'm dead and gone. Well sure. I may be all skeptical and stuff but there's always the chance I'm wrong and she's telling me, no worries, she'll take care of it. All I gotta do is die. Since I'm gonna die anyway, what the hell. In fact if anyone knows of any other religions out there that offer a similar service let me know. I can go about living my hedonistic life and still cover all the eternal salvation bases. This is all upside. Yep, sign me up for all of them.<br />
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<br />Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-46355149853953641732012-05-18T06:32:00.000-07:002012-05-18T06:32:02.955-07:00Not so fast there pardner...Getting old sucks. It seriously sucks.<br />
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After a few months of taking care of a shoulder problem I finally get back in the saddle... for about 8 days. Then shoulder problem returns. Now once again I'm off and pedaling with hopes of making it at least through the spring.<br />
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Which of course finds me on my favorite trail to hate, the Capital Crescent one. There's always something to make a cranky person crankier on the CCT. The endless number of bikers that whiz by with no warning. The CAT 0's who bomb the middle. The runners doing u turns without even thinking that someone may be behind them. But today was a new one.<br />
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I'm coming from Bethesda home to DC and I pass a teenage girl. Within 30 yards theres a bunch of walkers coming both ways. I slow and wait for the opening, move out to pass the walkers and head back over to the right when I almost collide with teenage girl. Apparently that whole slowing thing didn't sit well with her so she passed the walkers on the right in the dirt while I was passing on the left.<br />
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Soon enough I've slowed for walkers again and this time I watch as she bombs them on the right again. One of the walkers was so alarmed she actually let out a bit of a screech.<br />
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Well, her being a teenage girl and me being all manly I soon pass her again and mention that that was pretty rude of her. She, being a teenage girl, tells me where to put it.<br />
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God how I've missed this.<br />
<br />Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-44126847139024001892012-03-28T07:43:00.006-07:002012-03-29T14:19:49.143-07:00Back in the saddle againSee, now that's the thing about getting old. Your mind may say that you're still out and about and kickin it but your body will eventually win. Your mind has to come to terms with it.<br />
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For the last couple of months I've had shoulder problems. Now - being man and all - I normally pay no mind to these nagging little pains here and there. So I kept biking and playing tennis and what not and the shoulder kept getting worse and finally one day I couldn't bike or play tennis or what not. Turns out got me a bit of that arthritis in it and it don't take kindly to being ignored.<br />
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So after some time doing stupid exercises and not doing the things I want to be doing it turns out that sometimes those doctors know what they're up to. Who knew? After that <a href="http://velodc.blogspot.com/2011/07/asinine.html" target="_blank">last visit</a> I swore them off but apparently not all of them want to don some rubber gloves and go pokin' around in places that weren't meant for pokin'.<br />
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There for awhile I was wondering if I'd be doing much riding anymore and I wasn't happy about it. Just when I'm working part time and have lots of time to bike the body betrays me. But long story short I'm back riding and the weather is good and the sun is shining.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin-Cqc6fEZi2vjDmaPuTF_chsIDn4fIwPzk3mHfg7awd5mJyk2-QWDJQXWwO47SQnmaf2LzrbvFrAI-i6An2d9Ou2QZQ_aD0ZYz3fhNaYEIErIBSs_6_tt_e2NQpVptxkiYEW9sM-WGV2w/s1600/Sunshine.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin-Cqc6fEZi2vjDmaPuTF_chsIDn4fIwPzk3mHfg7awd5mJyk2-QWDJQXWwO47SQnmaf2LzrbvFrAI-i6An2d9Ou2QZQ_aD0ZYz3fhNaYEIErIBSs_6_tt_e2NQpVptxkiYEW9sM-WGV2w/s1600/Sunshine.png" /></a></div><br />
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Now that I know I'll be biking again it's time to consider my spring/summer wardrobe.<br />
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For many a year my wardrobe consisted of ratty t-shirts, well worn bike pants, a pair of shorts over them ('cause I'm old school and tight bike pants on an old guy, well, best not try picturing it) and Keens. I had no idea one could assemble a new ensemble all the time. You can even do seasonal ensembling.<br />
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So now that I've found my <a href="http://velodc.blogspot.com/2011/03/lifestyle_26.html" target="_blank">lifestyle</a> I'm eager to complete Me 2.0.<br />
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For this summer I'm thinking of starting with this little number:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimHGWOi_B-BpwnHR1JF6yqeFrIwF0nKoktbdVQrnMeMSBwkBesW6Q-uQvX5glaoxEJCNZRLGMVDysB_yO9eeUHETS9DfwSJ4d6dETRs-80h4ch8WKd2zz_094F9aXT19qXU9tJA8sMZfb/s1600/lightningvest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimHGWOi_B-BpwnHR1JF6yqeFrIwF0nKoktbdVQrnMeMSBwkBesW6Q-uQvX5glaoxEJCNZRLGMVDysB_yO9eeUHETS9DfwSJ4d6dETRs-80h4ch8WKd2zz_094F9aXT19qXU9tJA8sMZfb/s320/lightningvest.jpg" width="288" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.dar-ge-los.com/product/lightning-vest" target="_blank">Lightning Vest</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; text-align: left;">The Lightning Vest is a hand-netted, highly visible safety vest made from a custom developed 3M reflective material. It can be worn all year, day or night and layered over jackets or t-shirts. Neck opening is wide enough to pass over your helmet and netting is large enough for your hand to access your pockets. The Lightning Vest is very strong, lightweight and compact enough to fit in your pocket without ever getting tangled.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">At only $95 too. I'm sure the spring collections are just starting to appear and I hope to soon to be able to show off some of the new Me 2.0.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Yes, it's good to be back in the saddle again. </div>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-22289758586178842742011-12-23T19:07:00.001-08:002011-12-26T19:01:09.497-08:00Happy Holidays<object style="height: 240px; width: 400px;"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dDMtkydJsFk?version=3&feature=player_detailpage"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dDMtkydJsFk?version=3&feature=player_detailpage" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="400" height="240"></object>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-58618260226915869822011-12-22T15:38:00.000-08:002011-12-23T04:36:15.892-08:00New York CityAh, New York City.<br />
Years and years (and years) ago I lived in Manhattan for about 18 months. At the time I rode a motorcycle and was young and stupid, meaning I did stupid things on that motorcycle. Things I wouldn't dream of doing today. Anyway, I took the dreaded car up because I was going to be going back and forth between Manhattan and Williamsburg for a few days with passengers on board.<br />
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Before arriving I was sure I would observe bikers doing stupid thing all through New York City. I was sure I'd be annoyed that they just don't see that they're total and complete tools. And I was sure I going to write about it.<br />
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But I'm not. What I'm going to write about is the ungodly amount of cars going in every which way as fast as they can while pretty much acting like you ain't there and if you are there and that is where they wanna be in a second or two then you'd best be moving along.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkAGFwdFO2HPI2yoLfXRuHNlpsQcHJGJxjrKIfn1zGHvin0_UzTZiL5LTlkzBed1u84Uyxp77Dr9aIVSwAXpNxcfGUHiDgloHyb2gnfsSQdyTlX8OVxekB4jInkJ0HtDHUBzIqIQAW_Rd/s1600/nyc.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkAGFwdFO2HPI2yoLfXRuHNlpsQcHJGJxjrKIfn1zGHvin0_UzTZiL5LTlkzBed1u84Uyxp77Dr9aIVSwAXpNxcfGUHiDgloHyb2gnfsSQdyTlX8OVxekB4jInkJ0HtDHUBzIqIQAW_Rd/s1600/nyc.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
Now, I've been known to get "vocal" at times. Pretty much every day presents a situation where I can call out a tool and I'm not one to let these situations go without some quality "vocal" time. But New York City. The last time I was this "vocal" was when I picked up a rental car in Paris a few blocks from the Arc de Triomphe at rush hour. Within minutes the window was down, the finger was out and the language was colorful.<br />
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You think of red light runners and you think of a car running a light after it's clearly turned red. In New York City the only time they stop running a red light is when the cars with the green light fill up the intersection. It's not one or two, it's as many as can get out there before the green lighters hold them back.<br />
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No sooner have you figured out how to be aggressive and assertive then you find yourself slamming on your brakes because yet another stupid pedestrian has emerged between parked cars and is going to cross the street in front of you. And best not to take any turns to tight 'cause the pedestrians ain't standing on the sidewalk, they're out in the road waiting for the light to turn cause they gotta be like the first ones to cross the street. Does everyone in New York City have tattoo's?<br />
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After 3 days of this zaniness I was simply flabbergasted that anyone could possibly be upset at the way a biker, any biker, behaves in New York City.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-78939732070315043532011-12-08T09:50:00.000-08:002011-12-10T04:53:21.562-08:00Bikeville<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fkkK5A11HUkZ2O0BHvrdV1k0UHO2rFZeWjsWu1f8OvlyhvTz4Z_mKbp09Kk5R6581TJH6t9-l9GknljGAr5WTafTr0tiJd_CKszwgR9Lqaa4VqwljSb0i3CJr82WGWXV4xgV1QmUTknZ/s1600/Bikeville_Logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fkkK5A11HUkZ2O0BHvrdV1k0UHO2rFZeWjsWu1f8OvlyhvTz4Z_mKbp09Kk5R6581TJH6t9-l9GknljGAr5WTafTr0tiJd_CKszwgR9Lqaa4VqwljSb0i3CJr82WGWXV4xgV1QmUTknZ/s320/Bikeville_Logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Those folks over at Momentum magazine, that same site that helped me find my "<a href="http://velodc.blogspot.com/2011/03/lifestyle_26.html">lifestyle</a>" have an article on <a href="http://momentumplanet.com/blogs/opinions/a-city-called-bikeville" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Greenville South Carolina</a>. New home of the center of the bicycle universe. Yep, these good folks want to rename their city Bikeville.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Cities are often naming themselves after this or that. I come from a little place that named itself after prehistoric circular earthworks. It hasn't changed much since those long forgotten days. Sometimes they just steal the name of another place and put "New" in front of it. I guess the founders were too lazy to come up with something on their own. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"> Countries will change their name after independence or civil war and then go about changing the names of their cities. I don't think one often hears of a little place changing it's name because of a mode of transportation. Usually a nickname will suffice. Detroit, the motor city, things like that.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">They have the first bike shop just for women in the country and a few trails, one that is 13 miles, and biking is arguably the most popular sport in the area and there are beaucoup de arts and culture. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">However I am a bit concerned. There is no mention of a tattoo parlor. They do mention that it's the home of the USA Pro Cycling Challenge but that ain't exactly screaming out a big welcome to the fadsters. You can't go calling yourself Bikeville without catering to all the CAT-0's (Costumed And Tattooed). Gourmet chefs and upscale boutique's do not a Bikeville make. You need to provide for the tools on fixie's who have a side to them that can only be expressed through a tattoo.. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU3CGJQDxigXIkfesuTBSQzkuoXsU-HUuBB2w_kQP8vo4WDNAjZhJ-WRN2eqQQ8Skg2j846m2rlMVC2AXQH6G0YnI04l8qk0Y6_tlJKrsooIflmza6oCDFdauExGY8jHfSF3fygm1OD3zD/s1600/parlor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU3CGJQDxigXIkfesuTBSQzkuoXsU-HUuBB2w_kQP8vo4WDNAjZhJ-WRN2eqQQ8Skg2j846m2rlMVC2AXQH6G0YnI04l8qk0Y6_tlJKrsooIflmza6oCDFdauExGY8jHfSF3fygm1OD3zD/s1600/parlor.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">This also raises the question of who will own the road. If you're living in Bikeville can a car yell at you for being on the road? Will bikers really own the road AND the multi-use trails? Yes yes yes, they already think that they do, but if you live in Bikeville then is their claim more legitimate? Will cars be ostracized? Will every car that runs a red light be debated in forums ad nauseum? Will cars be allowed rolling stops?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;">I don't know how that will all play out but I reckon that there will still be lots of confrontations. Being cranky and all I often find myself yelling at some tool, whether they be bike or car tool, and sometimes those things can escalate. What I need is some proper training in the technique of bike combat:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdt28sWD6iVUoja_q_lkzeoyqaSlXYN4_xKWESehDKuxY46qj7hyntIquP2LHuAyEleNMdKbWG2FiEpe5KJUgwkXB2qGDyhvTyfsBkaZJZfeNGZsFd4Y35opFHLV2dboQ__T81dCtBt_U/s1600/combat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdt28sWD6iVUoja_q_lkzeoyqaSlXYN4_xKWESehDKuxY46qj7hyntIquP2LHuAyEleNMdKbWG2FiEpe5KJUgwkXB2qGDyhvTyfsBkaZJZfeNGZsFd4Y35opFHLV2dboQ__T81dCtBt_U/s320/combat.jpg" width="236" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bicycle-Combat-Tactics/dp/B003JR08GC/ref=cm_cr_pr_pb_t">$2 American dollars</a> you can take that thousands of American dollar state of the art two wheeled wonder and kick some royal behind. I don't know about you but I've always felt that if I only knew how to wield my bike as a weapon that any gun toting thug would soon find himself on the wrong side of the whatfer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">I haven't been to <strike>Greenville</strike> Bikeville, it's, uh, in the south, but if I could rule the roads and the pathways and take a few names it may be the ideal place to retire.</span></div>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-43755674731781892042011-11-29T14:12:00.000-08:002011-12-01T10:51:08.906-08:00Tools of the tiradeTwo summers ago I was at a stop light waiting for it to change. Across the street was a Jeep and in the jeep was some big hairy tool with several dogs in the back.<br />
<br />
Soon I was off on the green. The big hairy tool was turning left and apparently I wasn't moving fast enough because he gunned it directly at me and at the last second swerved to miss me, giving me the finger as he passed.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydyhkneraZM/TtVV4kUPmfI/AAAAAAAAAO4/NNiroaFXIW8/s1600/finger.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydyhkneraZM/TtVV4kUPmfI/AAAAAAAAAO4/NNiroaFXIW8/s1600/finger.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
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Considering how many incidents occur as one rolls along you might wonder why this particular one sticks out in my mind. As the fates would have it me and this same tool with the same jeep and (I'm assuming) the same dogs had a chance to cross paths again.<br />
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I'm returning from the store in the dreaded car and stopped to back up into a parking space when this jeep comes racing toward me, comes inches from my mirror and the driver is giving me the finger. Well I'll be damned. I recognize him and the jeep and I'm all beside myself. I just thought he was just another tool towards bikers but apparently he's all about equal opportunity.<br />
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So this tool passes on and a few houses up pulls into a parking space.<br />
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Ever have those moments when all goes black and you don't really know what you're doing? Where you're rabid and foaming at the mouth and you're not even aware of it? That was me. I had somehow parked, left the vehicle, marched up to his jeep and had my face inches from his through his window. I'm guessing that's what happened but I can't say for sure.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CBglM6RmqlY/TtYozOSaRYI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/iyTdgO32lIM/s1600/h2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CBglM6RmqlY/TtYozOSaRYI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/iyTdgO32lIM/s1600/h2.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
He was muttering something but I can't tell ya what because I was too busy screaming "GET OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR!". Why I wanted him out of the car I hadn't a clue. Was I intending to fight him (uh, what? Fight? WTF?)? Sure, I was in a scrap or two back in high school but that was when you could throw a punch and not get shot. Besides if I threw a punch it would be an old man's punch and nobody wants to see that.<br />
As mentioned he was a big hairy tool, and though I wasn't sure if I could take him in a fight (ok, I was sure I couldn't) I felt quite certain that if he emerged I could outrun his fat ass. Did I want him out of the car so we could engage in a foot race?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uoLtRmrzayC85N48TKAQjUy3ZytaRajqx070lp0HLCIGzKWGjrPnRTXkrobXaMtMna6LGF2RS3MBuwJgxH0dhd7FWRrpnWT_eY2I20NTVwxO4VCXQnH4J6IwxtBp5oeTAD9pJDcN6qtc/s1600/race.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uoLtRmrzayC85N48TKAQjUy3ZytaRajqx070lp0HLCIGzKWGjrPnRTXkrobXaMtMna6LGF2RS3MBuwJgxH0dhd7FWRrpnWT_eY2I20NTVwxO4VCXQnH4J6IwxtBp5oeTAD9pJDcN6qtc/s1600/race.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
It was all quite confusing to me as I repeated my mantra and he kept muttering something about why would I want to fight him for giving me the finger. He seemed genuinely shocked by the very idea. Actually, so was I.<br />
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Well, as these things are wont to do, the crazed anger was quickly subsiding as he kept pursuing the "let's chat" avenue and I was loudly repeating my increasingly pathetic battle cry. While my mind was trying to maintain some kind of tough guy persona and deal with the subsiding craziness I was also struggling with the dogs in the back whom were panting and looking at this spectacle with mild curiosity. Being a lover of the 4 legged creature I was mightily fighting the urge to go "who's a good boy? who's a good boy? you're a good boy! yes you are, oh yes you are! what a good boy!".<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DiFICid1CpA/TtVW6jYHMdI/AAAAAAAAAPA/prCjXfWhl5U/s1600/dogs.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DiFICid1CpA/TtVW6jYHMdI/AAAAAAAAAPA/prCjXfWhl5U/s1600/dogs.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
All of it proved more that I could take. I knew that I was in a no win situation. I didn't want this crazed anger anymore, he, thankfully, wasn't going to get out of the car, the dogs looked so darn cuddly and I wasn't about to chat. So I decided to just walk away. I reminded him that he was a goddamned candy ass, a phrase I once heard from an Admiral that I swore to use some day, and headed home, feeling quite pleased that I got to use it and not get my ass kicked because of it.<br />
<br />
As I walked home I saw him get out of his jeep, drop something off at the house he was parked in front of, get back in his jeep and just as I was about to go in the door he honked as he was passing. I turned and he was giving me the finger.<br />
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And just when I was starting to feel stupid for acting like a total tool. I'll be damned.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-3976020707451846552011-11-05T14:16:00.000-07:002011-11-09T06:21:54.876-08:00FallI love the fall. Love the air and crispness and the colors.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsPEg13q8pfnicBfvwND6Js-47qayoMLd2dsrVFNkbkUpqmu_-DlTYuH9zrMdMjh3HstoqPgotti-s5XLxyvPXfLVuuoPk8nsJeO76cW51mSVNkCUcI1vgRRybH9ItD27NtD6P3u892Cm/s1600/trix.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsPEg13q8pfnicBfvwND6Js-47qayoMLd2dsrVFNkbkUpqmu_-DlTYuH9zrMdMjh3HstoqPgotti-s5XLxyvPXfLVuuoPk8nsJeO76cW51mSVNkCUcI1vgRRybH9ItD27NtD6P3u892Cm/s1600/trix.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
Having just finished a long project at work I've now officially semi-retired. The free web dictionary defines that as working part time because of health issues or advanced age. Merriam-Webster says because of health or age. I'm going with Merriam.<br />
<br />
Isn't advanced age some kind of a health problem by definition? My knees have hurt for years. I can't hear, I can't see that well, my back hurts, my neck hurts, parts are failing and I'm not anywhere near advanced. I swear.<br />
<br />
Anyway, now that I'm semi-retired I can do some serious rides. I'm all about the serious rides.<br />
<br />
There's nothing quite like a frisky ride on a cool morning. You start out with a lot of clothes and 5 miles later you've opened up the jacket and a few miles after that you've switched from the 35 degree gloves to the 45's. Soon the ear band is gone and the outer layer is tucked away.<br />
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There's something different about the effort. The attention you pay is more focused. The cat and mouse between sun and shadow make cracks and pothole spotting a thrill ride. The low sun blinds you, and more importantly the pilots of those 1 to 3 ton missiles. A blinded pilot will grab your focus quick.<br />
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Soon the weather will impact the time out and miles gone by. The summer goals not achieved this year will have to wait. Soon I'll semi-retire the trusted steed and spend long cold evenings in magazines and articles on what the new year holds.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-13808966198597998852011-09-22T14:04:00.000-07:002011-09-22T14:34:36.074-07:00Oh my bike and meAh, the work day. Actually the work day and night as a big project has kept me from all things bike (except for the commuting). This is what happens when one goes off to foreign lands for weeks at a time.<br />
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Speaking of projects there's more news on the "Bicycle" album due out this winter. It features an 18 year old singer. They've put up one of those Facebook things. I don't do Facebook and don't understand it but apparently it's all the rage.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-njS6fUoh6tI/TnuiZ5OPOAI/AAAAAAAAAOE/ReI6-ak0NHw/s1600/facebook.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-njS6fUoh6tI/TnuiZ5OPOAI/AAAAAAAAAOE/ReI6-ak0NHw/s320/facebook.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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My sister tried to get me to do it so I joined and 3 days later I was gone. Cousins, whom I didn't know existed, contacted me. People whom I haven't seen in decades wanted to catch up. This mystified me. If I had wanted to keep in touch I wouldn't have waited decades. So, catch up on what exactly?<br />
Some requested a "chat". Me don't chat.<br />
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It all proved to be beyond my social ambitions so I abandoned it.<br />
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Anyway, if you're interested in hearing some home samples and early studio stuff head on over and have a listen.<br />
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Nora-and-One-Left/142301055851601?sk=wall">Nora and One Left</a><br />
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Kinda cool actually.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-27517440255758152642011-08-12T11:50:00.000-07:002011-08-12T16:18:19.502-07:00Foreign tools Give me land, lots of land...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7oxc2No-BSMAzBq8Y5Mk8wpsgG9FO3csSuZeWOPC9UKHAXL1KfMrI_oPQQPncOOUvgDPiP69Ok8EHlmwnCoIRfPyfluPszrPsgfONjv-DebgfVKK7bxTFJanwwV1BkMRZCE771CAPEGTI/s1600/cs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7oxc2No-BSMAzBq8Y5Mk8wpsgG9FO3csSuZeWOPC9UKHAXL1KfMrI_oPQQPncOOUvgDPiP69Ok8EHlmwnCoIRfPyfluPszrPsgfONjv-DebgfVKK7bxTFJanwwV1BkMRZCE771CAPEGTI/s320/cs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>My ex is from Spain and since she has a brother in Pamplona and a sister in Madrid and her parents are in La Rioja I made sure that when we went our separate ways that we went with a smile on our faces. One has to keep ones priorities right and having a place to keep a mountain bike and to stay is a priority I wasn't about to mess with over a little thing like divorce.<br />
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So every year I go visit the ex-laws and pick up my bike in Pamplona and head on out. There's a couple of pilgrimage trails that cross Spain and it's almost entirely off road.<br />
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Used to be that the trail, about 500 miles, was pretty empty but since the Pope visited the final destination back in the turn of the century it's picked up. Doesn't matter 'cause once you leave a place it's easy to pass the pilgrim walkers heading out and then you don't see anyone most of the day. <br />
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Biking the route has also picked up and you see a bit more bikers but most of them do the road route so it's not often you see other mountain bikers. Basically you've got an entire day of mountain biking all to yourself, occasionally passing a few pilgrims.<br />
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Depending on my destination for that day a ride can last anywhere from 7 to 10 hours.<br />
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Now, you might think that going through villages where there's live stock in the middle of the main road one would learn to speak to the locals. Well, I'm an American so I never bothered learning the language. I simply say "soy Americano" and the people shake their head in that kind of exasperated yet understanding way as they either try to speak to me in English or ramble off to find someone who can. It's a universal thing and it explains everything and we're all instantly on the same page.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTSqbF1rKUfe3A1H9ROulMnwbwrF8oUyCHImPIhIfgP00Edb2wfJWL7dGyVWY4x2K9GSpCe3a2QNx3BwWkhN12E7PttQEY37dv08kijrLHyBI_Qv5P_jcBcbwQI_djhCxASlau750ZRAU/s1600/c6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTSqbF1rKUfe3A1H9ROulMnwbwrF8oUyCHImPIhIfgP00Edb2wfJWL7dGyVWY4x2K9GSpCe3a2QNx3BwWkhN12E7PttQEY37dv08kijrLHyBI_Qv5P_jcBcbwQI_djhCxASlau750ZRAU/s320/c6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Long climb</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On this particular day I had just finished this hour long climb and got to the top and there were a couple of pilgrims from the Netherlands up there resting and we got to chatting. In English of course.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30ucwleptsAr8U68dGPFggJOBHqSyvVLmqLdj8Xsb78zbnQJf9Uex0aLrUu4oRO7Usok9EOTi9BsK7Gu_epVe33kSZhxOfOVtnCl6rwcrsmm2VWbVguebUWxwP50RKW4HbQPLLjzghvX8/s1600/c3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30ucwleptsAr8U68dGPFggJOBHqSyvVLmqLdj8Xsb78zbnQJf9Uex0aLrUu4oRO7Usok9EOTi9BsK7Gu_epVe33kSZhxOfOVtnCl6rwcrsmm2VWbVguebUWxwP50RKW4HbQPLLjzghvX8/s320/c3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and down the other side</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>So we started down the other side, me walking my bike, enjoying a pleasant conversation for a few minutes before I would say goodbye and mount the trusty steed. We've reached the bottom and are going along laughing and carrying on when suddenly a ruckus behind us made us turn. There were two bikers barreling down on us, maybe 20 yards away, giving no warning and hauling some foreign ass.<br />
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They buzzed us as we just stood there too startled to move.<br />
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I can't tell you how comforting this was. I'd been out for almost a week and was kinda getting homesick. Getting buzzed by tools was like getting a little taste of home. It's that universal thing. Just as no one expects an American to speak another language, you don't expect to encounter bikers without a tool emerging.<br />
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Tools or not, it's a wonderful way to spend a couple of weeks.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CQp_SIprH0qzDQUkUlEwtpqK5EiL0Cg1bOJr_PRgGlN2k5_mRH_eQsJQzwFFZDRTc9uhti1kutM5ABcjVD_2DgzT-nfk2vpRtHRrFmv6OSBlgN_arZlMgo8iIxfqljFZCKkiqSTsHjCQ/s1600/c6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CQp_SIprH0qzDQUkUlEwtpqK5EiL0Cg1bOJr_PRgGlN2k5_mRH_eQsJQzwFFZDRTc9uhti1kutM5ABcjVD_2DgzT-nfk2vpRtHRrFmv6OSBlgN_arZlMgo8iIxfqljFZCKkiqSTsHjCQ/s320/c6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-32192628079302780282011-07-25T12:00:00.000-07:002011-07-27T05:25:05.067-07:00FriidomI spend a lot of time wondering what to spend money on since I have no life. Not that I have any money either but that appears to be a non-issue and I'm all about the non-issue.<br />
<br />
Recently I've been drawn to the new MacBook Air because it's the new MacBook Air.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBim9ZAgpB7GD7Rke0VgsOCi9ecHyjfmBLOBarBGpYS82a034SpyCOvMrQ14-_M0M6qZb1TrBTx5ePT3VaNRTjb8PYKTT8-2GomaCTYOzctOtEhecDNzou8Zldc5q4D7KkFShHqKbQShqp/s1600/air.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBim9ZAgpB7GD7Rke0VgsOCi9ecHyjfmBLOBarBGpYS82a034SpyCOvMrQ14-_M0M6qZb1TrBTx5ePT3VaNRTjb8PYKTT8-2GomaCTYOzctOtEhecDNzou8Zldc5q4D7KkFShHqKbQShqp/s1600/air.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I have no need of one. I have 3 computers and an iPad at home. I pretty much don't use any of them. <br />
<br />
So the last week I've been contemplating that. Should I or shouldn't I?<br />
<br />
It's all in the never ending search for a "personal statement". Since I've discovered my "lifestyle" I think it's very important that I complete this v2 of me. I need a personal statement and the faded t's, wilderness pouch and ratty old bike shorts circa 1970 ain't getting it done. And I can't get the obvious "personal statement", the tattoo, because, well, it's a tattoo.<br />
<br />
Today the MacBook Air fell by the wayside and now I'm drooling over the <a href="http://www.designboom.com/weblog/cat/8/view/15791/dror-peleg-frii-plastic-bike.html">Frii</a>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsDSO0yAlt6lqXWH9ePLyE_i2gq_vPtSMOAJUFz8WVdNyTBPR6wn6LZjIEMxiQ15VCqxqY3ByM8jW62CnIlQSfEmZg8aZHWteVDb-RaYal2IIlH7yAPeSiK-JHltrlOgW1f1GmVJFRcNoB/s1600/frii.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsDSO0yAlt6lqXWH9ePLyE_i2gq_vPtSMOAJUFz8WVdNyTBPR6wn6LZjIEMxiQ15VCqxqY3ByM8jW62CnIlQSfEmZg8aZHWteVDb-RaYal2IIlH7yAPeSiK-JHltrlOgW1f1GmVJFRcNoB/s320/frii.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I'm all over this one:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwutDtgJCvrJYWqq4etr_BQBHmWeDAy2gfVmPDFGe0dKpMPhgPuidIT3DnNBpKNi6rjhDIeZUDtbztjhH2tlxmFR4riRz57naoybIK1pCWkpUhNEk8Osm9wV8NXbmZvIkbcNakxKUrxu72/s1600/frii.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwutDtgJCvrJYWqq4etr_BQBHmWeDAy2gfVmPDFGe0dKpMPhgPuidIT3DnNBpKNi6rjhDIeZUDtbztjhH2tlxmFR4riRz57naoybIK1pCWkpUhNEk8Osm9wV8NXbmZvIkbcNakxKUrxu72/s320/frii.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Though I'm not so sure about that plastic seat and I'm wondering about the brakes.<br />
<br />
What's not to like here? I'm sure there are those that say this screams "DORK!". If I wanted dork I suppose I could go out and buy a camera and some white socks and black shoes and really ugly shorts and stroll around the nations capital but this thing! Where some might see "DORK" I see "ECCENTRIC".<br />
<br />
This could really be a boon for my "<a href="http://velodc.blogspot.com/2011/03/lifestyle_26.html">lifestye</a>".<br />
<br />
Speaking of which, I can see me here someday:<br />
<br />
<iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/23159470?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/23159470">New York RideStyle Fashion Show 2011</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/nycyclechic">New York Cycle Chic</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br />
Me and my "ECCENTRIC" bike would fit right in. I don't have any pumps and I can't do the closely shaven beard thing cause I can't grow no beard but I'm sure I have a tie laying around somewhere. v2 of me. It's starting to come together.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-30520705939022988972011-07-17T16:04:00.000-07:002011-07-19T10:33:13.756-07:00Why don't they run?I bike a lot and play a lot of tennis. Not as much as back in the day but still I get out there and grind it out.<br />
<br />
Several years back when I belonged to the Sidwell Friends tennis club I was playing a match while the school's baseball team was playing a game. After my match I moseyed over to have a watch and a girl came up to me and asked, in some foreign accent I couldn't place, "why don't they run?".<br />
<br />
You see, she had been watching this thing and couldn't figure out what the hell was going on. The pitcher throws to the catcher, the catcher throws to the pitcher. Every so often that guy standing there will swing a stick and sometimes, though not often, he'll make one of those other 7 people out there move while he makes a dash down the line.<br />
<br />
This goes on awhile and on occasion a whole lot of commotion will come from the stands as there is a brief bit of activity but no sooner than you think you've got a bead on something when suddenly they're all standing around again. <br />
<br />
Then out of nowhere they'll all go running off the field while the other team goes running on the field and take up the exact same positions and the pitcher starts throwing to the catcher and...<br />
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So she just couldn't figure out why there were all standing about.<br />
<br />
Then there's football, where large men stand around an awful lot of the time and explode into a brief bit of groping and whatnot and then gather around a circle and discuss the entire affair only to start it up again. And there appears to be teams of gropers as some are on the field for extended periods while others only appear briefly.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hhRHj-5KqaY/TiNoJIHlz2I/AAAAAAAAAL0/AN_kM-q8_ac/s1600/fb.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hhRHj-5KqaY/TiNoJIHlz2I/AAAAAAAAAL0/AN_kM-q8_ac/s1600/fb.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
I was thinking about this because some tool named Michael Smith over at ESPN seems to think that cars plowing into professional bikers is amusing (hit and runs are always amusing! really. every. time.) but these two sports are treated with serious thought and analyses. He is apparently some kind of football expert so I'm assuming he knows all about this groping stuff.<br />
<br />
Anyway, he and another ESPN tool by the name of Tony Kornheiser seem to have some thing against people who ride bikes, like it's some kind of child's play or something whereas with the real sports there is cause for endless discussion.<br />
<br />
Of course we don't expect these tools to be athletes so they have no idea what it takes to ride in the Tour de France or even to commute year round in all kinds of weather. I doubt that either of them can manage being out of the reconditioned air long enough to find out.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-30196791200833326022011-07-08T18:38:00.000-07:002011-07-11T14:10:27.519-07:00Asinine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDNTjOHkrrhwuYr5c-f5xs0Nhx-dsdNp7EuLmbpok98DV0UcSWPKFq0aRjPDAt0_jP0xGgEWjwTS9zEKbTdZgldH5BKUykPbImDhnIuXqEqnawRVtDZS0g4lRM6mzTzX8OtKs6JOeHL1S/s1600/wright.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDNTjOHkrrhwuYr5c-f5xs0Nhx-dsdNp7EuLmbpok98DV0UcSWPKFq0aRjPDAt0_jP0xGgEWjwTS9zEKbTdZgldH5BKUykPbImDhnIuXqEqnawRVtDZS0g4lRM6mzTzX8OtKs6JOeHL1S/s1600/wright.jpeg" /></a></div>Within about a dozen years of the Wright brothers flights there were war planes and commercial flights.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8jhfGhICQM1UqxrQ3OurpFpRujQDOBRVvrYtdgYfuTRFYhuqyZ5D4XqIr0NhRV4HaaGIY8z3Qzphe-M_EcfAc-JnSmDdJaxWGMHl5kkkdF4MfXPfouVllZY3Z968JSo0hucjry1N6bc4k/s1600/sputnik.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8jhfGhICQM1UqxrQ3OurpFpRujQDOBRVvrYtdgYfuTRFYhuqyZ5D4XqIr0NhRV4HaaGIY8z3Qzphe-M_EcfAc-JnSmDdJaxWGMHl5kkkdF4MfXPfouVllZY3Z968JSo0hucjry1N6bc4k/s1600/sputnik.jpeg" /></a></div>The Russians put Sputnik up in 1957 using computer power that is dwarfed by todays home computers.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoavYbZA-BnXDNq2YBBsYgrEIBkcl-elZNZ-4eBpDRoiMr9NRXG4vCUuNC4DVUDFpbuz7mvNNAlkK1mooEKyFqTehCy1jOxwXfIdFc9KAv6RlOAqe7CeEWlec0IUtkNE6zpG5AteUMj1gr/s1600/scan.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoavYbZA-BnXDNq2YBBsYgrEIBkcl-elZNZ-4eBpDRoiMr9NRXG4vCUuNC4DVUDFpbuz7mvNNAlkK1mooEKyFqTehCy1jOxwXfIdFc9KAv6RlOAqe7CeEWlec0IUtkNE6zpG5AteUMj1gr/s1600/scan.jpeg" /></a></div>You can take almost any smart phone into a store and scan an items' barcode and see how their price compares to others.<br />
<br />
<br />
The reason I'm thinking about all this technology and marveling at the advances that are made every day is because I'm just finished the first physical I've had in a very long time and I was wondering why the hell I was bent over some damned table.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uyTurvN8GtA/ThXcQ0qmsaI/AAAAAAAAALs/5HFIYo0dyAg/s1600/glove.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uyTurvN8GtA/ThXcQ0qmsaI/AAAAAAAAALs/5HFIYo0dyAg/s1600/glove.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>What, they don't have an app for that? Somebody could make a fortune. They could call it the Apphole.<br />
<br />
After this guy does this he hands me a box of tissues and says "wipe yourself". Now, I've just been probed and I'm searching for some kind of way to man up and for a brief moment I contemplate telling him "you made the mess, YOU clean it up!" in my most menacing, yeah, that's right, MAN here! voice but then I realize him wiping up the mess isn't going to improve the situation.<br />
<br />
So I clean up while he's still in the room and we finish up and I'm heading out to get on my bike.<br />
<br />
I ride to the closest corner and stop to watch the women go by. Cause that's what men do. I give my best deep voice "How you doin" to a couple of them til one says "asshole" which doesn't improve the situation.<br />
<br />
So I head on out for a bike ride. Rats.<br />
<br />
I decide to go to this Italian deli to pick up some homemade pasta and I'm bombing down Connecticut ave. cause I'm standing up and hammering cause I got no interest in sitting down, and I'm making most of the lights when I finally miss one and come to a stop. And some tool behind me bombs right through it weaving between the crossing cars. He wasn't costumed and I didn't get a good enough look to see if he was the other half of the CAT-0.<br />
<br />
While I'm standing there waiting for the light along comes a girl on one of those cargo bikes and she slows then dashes through the intersection as well. Dammit.<br />
<br />
I ride awhile and a light changes and I'm in a bad mood, and I am man, so I slow but dash across at the first opening and I'm going along when a cop pulls me over and yells at me for running a red light. I never run red lights dammit. This is like the first one ever!<br />
<br />
The guy let's me go without a ticket. Nice not to get it stuck to me twice in one day.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-88218340832415571772011-06-21T16:58:00.000-07:002011-06-21T18:24:04.293-07:00Fadsters part DeuxOver a million Pet Rocks were sold. Rocks the guy got from the local rocks r us shop and sold them for $4 each. Without Fadsters the guy would have been stuck with a truckload of rocks. Fadsters have made possible banana-seat bikes, mood rings, muppet babies, beanie babies, slammer whammers, tie-die, polyester, blue suede shoes, slinky's, the boufant, Pee Wee Herman, silly putty, the British invasion v. 1 and 2, spud guns, platform shoes, the macarena, flappers, suv's, magic 8 ball, grunge, lava lamps and hipsters.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbrf62pvsgzJxetHwv_piHTfOr4VZCd871btJYPOeP6G5BhOCajDrD8AxPHq-7-9K8Qn6we0DSwaasVRZfm26o3RWhTpo1ByTtYQKVuu5K0WQDHaMSEB1Z-v3ynErpmuR41HV37tYfatVq/s1600/rock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbrf62pvsgzJxetHwv_piHTfOr4VZCd871btJYPOeP6G5BhOCajDrD8AxPHq-7-9K8Qn6we0DSwaasVRZfm26o3RWhTpo1ByTtYQKVuu5K0WQDHaMSEB1Z-v3ynErpmuR41HV37tYfatVq/s320/rock.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Not that long ago the bicycle was the thing you got when you were a kid and soon forgot about when you weren't. Or those rusty things in the garage that you and the little lady got so you could go and have some "exercise" together. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwOTGLTMTqZuDKea-Sjo8rCzf24wZ1ReKaAamLTHC-lo0k0j1XNVxcXlmYkAPl94UQeYZgqktKpKRtJ6IA-1dbBihPhTJPdj-x879x9lx5OzAIwvU_kbLZYR-SvkZm6j_c7K3qOKxdSsJ/s1600/rust.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwOTGLTMTqZuDKea-Sjo8rCzf24wZ1ReKaAamLTHC-lo0k0j1XNVxcXlmYkAPl94UQeYZgqktKpKRtJ6IA-1dbBihPhTJPdj-x879x9lx5OzAIwvU_kbLZYR-SvkZm6j_c7K3qOKxdSsJ/s1600/rust.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That's all changed (unless you live in like some small town in Ohio, like where I'm from, where they're still in the garage).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now there's designer bikes and designer helmets and designer clothing and designer bags and designer accessories, and the Fadsters can't get enough of them. And there's <a href="http://www.copenhagencyclechic.com/">Cycle Chic</a> sites and bicycle blogs and magazines that praise the utilitarian bike. We're in full blown bicycle Fadster mode. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMPUbupTIfu2qasX1yny-cPvNiu8kP8oWZqIeBklupqLf_DTeHwwJii0YAQWUeL1E2qRNC9jxvx4lO57RbzWruB9i3WQgENcX2e2SQsq6zzlkea49V7er-n2E_nkabTbubK33nRLlLFFx0/s1600/fashion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMPUbupTIfu2qasX1yny-cPvNiu8kP8oWZqIeBklupqLf_DTeHwwJii0YAQWUeL1E2qRNC9jxvx4lO57RbzWruB9i3WQgENcX2e2SQsq6zzlkea49V7er-n2E_nkabTbubK33nRLlLFFx0/s320/fashion.jpg" width="258" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And what would a good fad be without some music? Some Fadsters are making an album called "Bicycle" that will be comprised of songs about... bicycling! The singer is a 17 (soon to be 18) year old girl with a "sweet" voice and the songs will most definitely not be for the CAT-0 crowd. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Being privy to the process I have access to early home recordings of the songs. I had a choice of several to pick from but I just had to go with one named "Cycle Chic". </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"<a href="http://landsw.com/bicycle/cyclechic.mp3">Cycle Chic</a>" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(©2011 Patches Publishing/ASCAP)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Th head Fadster says it probably won't be released til the fall. Not very "now now now!" generation but I guess we'll just have to wait.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-31795483919852135112011-06-19T15:52:00.000-07:002011-06-19T19:55:31.504-07:00Fadsters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If you are a member of CABI, the DC bike share thing, then you can get a free cupcake at Sprinkles Cupcakes in Georgetown through this week.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-MG9n60gKGwSZ_TpY-Tp47KxKyOtbBvlB70zEK4pV5vdVf_mmafpNrFUvAe8VuwM-eLx4LU4SAM7y257Nm_gEuqVVEBBrgngIzxxzXTeYZaoQwdo8LYXYJZj9fMjb4PwoozzFtLo-jNQ/s1600/cup.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-MG9n60gKGwSZ_TpY-Tp47KxKyOtbBvlB70zEK4pV5vdVf_mmafpNrFUvAe8VuwM-eLx4LU4SAM7y257Nm_gEuqVVEBBrgngIzxxzXTeYZaoQwdo8LYXYJZj9fMjb4PwoozzFtLo-jNQ/s1600/cup.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
Cupcakes stores have been popping up for a few years now. This appears to be a hot fad among those that follow fads. I'm guessing there are people who follow fads because there sure is a line of 'em lined up outside of these cupcake places and just as there is no way a sane and rational person would mount a fixie there is no way a sane and rational person would stand in line for a cupcake. No, this is the realm of fadsters.<br />
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Of course it helps to have a TV show. Georgetown Cupcake has a show on TLC (DC Cupcake).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWQ05a02vMH4L6lp4XV6gzvxnbxFws_eHE109O5aHmOVYJ3o2wVzbf2kXGvp1g_8A03DvO9TPLYJZJYAKjZ2HTXOGbFAsY2WJ7UpW9-FSBXzcylktW2bgTx9RZZiUAFXD_wFKMJoCahFLw/s1600/IMG_0087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWQ05a02vMH4L6lp4XV6gzvxnbxFws_eHE109O5aHmOVYJ3o2wVzbf2kXGvp1g_8A03DvO9TPLYJZJYAKjZ2HTXOGbFAsY2WJ7UpW9-FSBXzcylktW2bgTx9RZZiUAFXD_wFKMJoCahFLw/s320/IMG_0087.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Georgetown Cupcake</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp2vf8TUJEma16t2tNI0o6CpTRqslDMpH5TzdcMi4_7zPbU2UXbTWO-2stqNLjCBJBhMhcoy-yLg9EIZRSNTTg5-6HztFyUyQ1xkdcaFr1LJovZtngafwcOBgDxXFX781L7aayybPaAh8Q/s1600/IMG_0088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp2vf8TUJEma16t2tNI0o6CpTRqslDMpH5TzdcMi4_7zPbU2UXbTWO-2stqNLjCBJBhMhcoy-yLg9EIZRSNTTg5-6HztFyUyQ1xkdcaFr1LJovZtngafwcOBgDxXFX781L7aayybPaAh8Q/s320/IMG_0088.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">With a line of fadsters</div><br />
What surprises me is how far cupcakes had fallen out of favor. That they have made a comeback to the point where you can make a career out of them and even get a tv show is a testament to how much we have missed and longed for them.<br />
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I certainly had no idea. I don't recall there being a shortage of Little Debbies on the grocer shelf but surely there must have been, no?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHKZPBKURjrzpIQB4YV7HnnPbyB0nGk3fEdjKJkyh4p0dJOJOwl2uBGFJ5TcYCYpjHy5nGiXdq5RH0gU53vA0ygBqIAiGC4VzIzs5r85vp0RwR1sCxiz7KPXhmmrg_OhyphenhyphenvYzntg7y4fo3/s1600/lil.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHKZPBKURjrzpIQB4YV7HnnPbyB0nGk3fEdjKJkyh4p0dJOJOwl2uBGFJ5TcYCYpjHy5nGiXdq5RH0gU53vA0ygBqIAiGC4VzIzs5r85vp0RwR1sCxiz7KPXhmmrg_OhyphenhyphenvYzntg7y4fo3/s1600/lil.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>With all the health food diets over recent years I would never have imagined a baked cake topped with gobs of sugary frosting would line 'em up. But then the last and only fad I can recall participating in was bell bottom trousers.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPNa9IbecPpstvTVKSBXjtEVcT7blXcWReacROeTHaHf6uQPWqEe3CeByzWj8MSGvpsLswgtRguvMafWcg1bK3h9XNSPFtUQCkRLVR9fzdQtJjgeVdbDSvp_F6MqT-PAv3nB7nX99UgRJ/s1600/bellb.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPNa9IbecPpstvTVKSBXjtEVcT7blXcWReacROeTHaHf6uQPWqEe3CeByzWj8MSGvpsLswgtRguvMafWcg1bK3h9XNSPFtUQCkRLVR9fzdQtJjgeVdbDSvp_F6MqT-PAv3nB7nX99UgRJ/s1600/bellb.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hey, if they were good enough for the King...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinF5BEaUubSj5yV4-euKSt-yR5x5YyZLHax8BN_hnhBhTzVn54XND3b60xNTJ5NpFb40qTm0Dfq0u4IP3kt_0E03S3VkJU29pJPeRjXR_EQsrjFGtHgWnJnsmMunX-65IP9gDZLx60aBVs/s1600/elvis.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinF5BEaUubSj5yV4-euKSt-yR5x5YyZLHax8BN_hnhBhTzVn54XND3b60xNTJ5NpFb40qTm0Dfq0u4IP3kt_0E03S3VkJU29pJPeRjXR_EQsrjFGtHgWnJnsmMunX-65IP9gDZLx60aBVs/s1600/elvis.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>As all fads, the cupcake will again fall out of favor for no other reason than fads change. I predict that macarons will be the next fad. By that time brakes will be the "new" fad for bikes and, to draw them in, the macaron stores should offer free macarons to all bikers with brakes. The fadsters will line right up.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpTG_pBxvAfgWO93JG1hkSTmMDseYGjn0fc6BydPr0E7klm8ELbnwRs3JbkvNYhN9BLJ1X7559YgCogkHRMq7AY80FyNUfx4u72Ni-h7tlkIXCTpq1xEopeY8KD6Zl7PBexds7eZ5TF40/s1600/mac.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpTG_pBxvAfgWO93JG1hkSTmMDseYGjn0fc6BydPr0E7klm8ELbnwRs3JbkvNYhN9BLJ1X7559YgCogkHRMq7AY80FyNUfx4u72Ni-h7tlkIXCTpq1xEopeY8KD6Zl7PBexds7eZ5TF40/s1600/mac.jpeg" /></a></div>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-56834206720049166662011-06-14T17:13:00.000-07:002011-08-12T14:05:00.584-07:00Too sexy for NYIn case you're not aware NYC has been brutal on bikers this summer. Bikers getting tickets are becoming as common as tattoos on bike mechanics.<br />
As <a href="http://gothamist.com/2011/06/11/cop_allegedly_threatened_to_ticket.php">this</a> young lass from Dutch country learned.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf37CSUD1Sx-9bB3338OxJULi1C8WGKM34344_BgqBEkeEtA712fZOzHwzTvgW2EovjmYFfZ1h_NJaD06fMIdfTwGWK1lFvBnDBJMwB_ICYI_3ZfpKsIjs3Dm9Kmm46QQ7W7pDYN2ERf_p/s1600/61110cycling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf37CSUD1Sx-9bB3338OxJULi1C8WGKM34344_BgqBEkeEtA712fZOzHwzTvgW2EovjmYFfZ1h_NJaD06fMIdfTwGWK1lFvBnDBJMwB_ICYI_3ZfpKsIjs3Dm9Kmm46QQ7W7pDYN2ERf_p/s320/61110cycling.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Apparently the men in blue of NYC think that a woman wearing a skirt is a danger to others and could warrant a ticket if they go about looking too good.<br />
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I have to side with the officer on this one. We should have a standard in which bicyclists present themselves. However it should be based not on simply good looks but looking good in general and with some style. To start with we need to establish a baseline:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgKX4Cos8L18hw1q6a7SM-yOaP2xZWnufMZ2KW_TXlMxhgttl_0OuaimqPqSf5UEYNIvmyXnKtpuCQ77UROZMA44atb2VtzmBuqGL_dSaEZ4ZSp6Fo4G7Ue-Om98EiSvO5QbcrAPiVNQ6/s1600/baseline.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgKX4Cos8L18hw1q6a7SM-yOaP2xZWnufMZ2KW_TXlMxhgttl_0OuaimqPqSf5UEYNIvmyXnKtpuCQ77UROZMA44atb2VtzmBuqGL_dSaEZ4ZSp6Fo4G7Ue-Om98EiSvO5QbcrAPiVNQ6/s1600/baseline.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
Going from here we can take a sampling of todays bikers and see if they're ticketable.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1Fos2E8bQ8OfqAXCYlwEr0H6Rb2X40mvpsSM9s7nC_8EuCjFBCAjFAeKGhq5BmCbN9xj0gQNDoo-ZAwGDlcNbzmaS1nMLRpIEUhOfHED1GqFKCBXC_cnKo8rx63bdH7oDou8LwsAHfMn/s1600/bike1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1Fos2E8bQ8OfqAXCYlwEr0H6Rb2X40mvpsSM9s7nC_8EuCjFBCAjFAeKGhq5BmCbN9xj0gQNDoo-ZAwGDlcNbzmaS1nMLRpIEUhOfHED1GqFKCBXC_cnKo8rx63bdH7oDou8LwsAHfMn/s1600/bike1.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Goofy looking - ticket</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaCCrlxSn9ZKwi1HZb4KhN_clHdFB8UiVxie2mYTf59P8U13_3yf0a8lAviUa-gylOEU24gN6GCi7ye7uQKjbvNTwp9yzQSpQpC42PJLEKA20uN7KSTB7VmMNkPqLpdHNtKPcZTcIysmEI/s1600/bike2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaCCrlxSn9ZKwi1HZb4KhN_clHdFB8UiVxie2mYTf59P8U13_3yf0a8lAviUa-gylOEU24gN6GCi7ye7uQKjbvNTwp9yzQSpQpC42PJLEKA20uN7KSTB7VmMNkPqLpdHNtKPcZTcIysmEI/s1600/bike2.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Goofy looking - ticket<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHm41Oiu_QsUtFc3qzERY4pn9CV87vbq04gV9NoH0jFEOhAN9bJtKcHDL42wbOMRFFuJ7rXtHsX8TpO-BfP-wtjI8R-zgt4rCsANeUkh4ONWyMYf_HcZC-TqAjdTHV5wue7V6ETFJ_pusJ/s1600/goofy.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHm41Oiu_QsUtFc3qzERY4pn9CV87vbq04gV9NoH0jFEOhAN9bJtKcHDL42wbOMRFFuJ7rXtHsX8TpO-BfP-wtjI8R-zgt4rCsANeUkh4ONWyMYf_HcZC-TqAjdTHV5wue7V6ETFJ_pusJ/s1600/goofy.jpeg" /></a></div>Goofy looking - ticket </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-ZLmwHZLcmjKRSJ2_H22Sg7YuvN6U2YhH9M7N9kLgXBUWiPllC0IfOfE5iNKgX6o4vNwGn44VCVR9Ujr2GzUIubstnXDR2tdFwnllrqBv8U0iZjTtpYoSYk0H5YsPWpnU-Mlyx-hM6BJ/s1600/as.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-ZLmwHZLcmjKRSJ2_H22Sg7YuvN6U2YhH9M7N9kLgXBUWiPllC0IfOfE5iNKgX6o4vNwGn44VCVR9Ujr2GzUIubstnXDR2tdFwnllrqBv8U0iZjTtpYoSYk0H5YsPWpnU-Mlyx-hM6BJ/s1600/as.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ass holes - ticket</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gWLGD3Uho_eULkQuno3zn18zNbV7sZdbiYFePTshGpR_mUDVxzj2Yh_CknS_Gu781zKMl6q8C9egCUXmFSckSwonShX6xRcMEq-TAPIFoUKUZiP5meMCN8LYaWUhn_NyPHt96HN25zge/s1600/strida.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gWLGD3Uho_eULkQuno3zn18zNbV7sZdbiYFePTshGpR_mUDVxzj2Yh_CknS_Gu781zKMl6q8C9egCUXmFSckSwonShX6xRcMEq-TAPIFoUKUZiP5meMCN8LYaWUhn_NyPHt96HN25zge/s1600/strida.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Riding a clown bike without a clown costume - ticket</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6XqdbC19fCfJeZs5ovhKBISTD4Akubso0PJpnf0R4ekmkhBcybY5KQy2vpeZgl0tlEQjdNv6jEQ2JzEHut3B9gAlqPeXJ2HTUn1Z8mRPGCNIuwkNszzysL0PE2sc8gZVj0ShVSZ93Dbd8/s1600/fix.jpeg" /></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">CAT-0 - ticket</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgsxnFDZKtnmetuwOMkOMra_5dqXCzsJErJZeZPrb_0izt0i-PemfoLaSIbjX4XynZLpQ2-_daOdYLqD_D_2RB927hEW-vGrjmR0p0L65VqsaFoMM-xLHY3fvqkQo4VbWEhyphenhyphen5dKDCW9Ut/s1600/cat0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgsxnFDZKtnmetuwOMkOMra_5dqXCzsJErJZeZPrb_0izt0i-PemfoLaSIbjX4XynZLpQ2-_daOdYLqD_D_2RB927hEW-vGrjmR0p0L65VqsaFoMM-xLHY3fvqkQo4VbWEhyphenhyphen5dKDCW9Ut/s1600/cat0.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">CAT-0 - ticket<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMX81Lt3HZ0hSRcm2PW66rjucy7DGibHon2zZq3OpQAgHE2Y_Nt9C5pyVMeAwdWDxNZ9azmf5hHWEquxM1_EdeKdZbqmOSx_LXb9YEMnuDKpP2C4cjSk9_4NBAqNNqiTd_fKQAvcyC4LwK/s1600/cell.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMX81Lt3HZ0hSRcm2PW66rjucy7DGibHon2zZq3OpQAgHE2Y_Nt9C5pyVMeAwdWDxNZ9azmf5hHWEquxM1_EdeKdZbqmOSx_LXb9YEMnuDKpP2C4cjSk9_4NBAqNNqiTd_fKQAvcyC4LwK/s1600/cell.jpeg" /></a></div>Cell phone - ticket<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7_IQrAphW3QKnG0B8nSt6LbjFLYxIroFQwVM4R6iY2TeUMar0iWBhSfejTaJTh3Be7YBlvuf6r_O-HXajBOhwT03QhIMK7e8UmTtSHx0oDq6RX1bKWWreab0JHzMHo-hC1DFd6sdKckD/s1600/cart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7_IQrAphW3QKnG0B8nSt6LbjFLYxIroFQwVM4R6iY2TeUMar0iWBhSfejTaJTh3Be7YBlvuf6r_O-HXajBOhwT03QhIMK7e8UmTtSHx0oDq6RX1bKWWreab0JHzMHo-hC1DFd6sdKckD/s1600/cart.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Shopping cart and sandals - ticket</div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqMhiQjPP_XzorRpZfJkHnsd7gxHVm7VRvWCkXnCLbBfrtw80BKzgakedM0OfOCgX7oMxpa_nztTNpVG8j7nfPbQP0QCx0MN5LmKmAg4HyA0cEihGKMkmm6qzLxr11hucmi8rdqv42e815/s1600/ouch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqMhiQjPP_XzorRpZfJkHnsd7gxHVm7VRvWCkXnCLbBfrtw80BKzgakedM0OfOCgX7oMxpa_nztTNpVG8j7nfPbQP0QCx0MN5LmKmAg4HyA0cEihGKMkmm6qzLxr11hucmi8rdqv42e815/s320/ouch.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Not enough threads. Ticket.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUkBYgRS_N9ItQdiL090Q36gkJo49JGuX-z46BL6XwSPQw7Aj5uwy_5rjMBOi_EEmsJ_shKVLUtfbW8EdrJCVa01hi2QVULGnz3-JLuI9til1ZGa2kbyyMtcEA7FaObR-Ls0oBafkXNon/s1600/style.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUkBYgRS_N9ItQdiL090Q36gkJo49JGuX-z46BL6XwSPQw7Aj5uwy_5rjMBOi_EEmsJ_shKVLUtfbW8EdrJCVa01hi2QVULGnz3-JLuI9til1ZGa2kbyyMtcEA7FaObR-Ls0oBafkXNon/s1600/style.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No ticket<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpb9IzL024ubBDQ9I0lbjdWKD7GUVAl2Civ5hQ35SoiXMIGHLDqLXfSLMa50MZdAlujHF4tN2-vsA-aUVywsiTIrtgQiwmuvPSLDLGO3nyOtbUD0OrdzimHRjY7ddB3mn73AMFdBhz5RJ1/s1600/crank.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpb9IzL024ubBDQ9I0lbjdWKD7GUVAl2Civ5hQ35SoiXMIGHLDqLXfSLMa50MZdAlujHF4tN2-vsA-aUVywsiTIrtgQiwmuvPSLDLGO3nyOtbUD0OrdzimHRjY7ddB3mn73AMFdBhz5RJ1/s1600/crank.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Exposed <a href="http://velodc.blogspot.com/2010/11/its-all-downhill.html">crank</a> <i>and</i> <a href="http://velodc.blogspot.com/2010/10/tattoo-you.html">tattoo's</a> - TICKET TICKET TICKET!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-So4Zln8ded0S344Nk74rGWLiTYO4PbBIN-Q7uj3Jmr__ssMYUw-ahRYONZ3BLRBu6yHeHbmRXbb3FkPfkuPmgqbfSY8SQzXne9yGABU9dMMu5UEv5xyOUke5SXFADznjd5CZw4WmzAF/s1600/f2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-So4Zln8ded0S344Nk74rGWLiTYO4PbBIN-Q7uj3Jmr__ssMYUw-ahRYONZ3BLRBu6yHeHbmRXbb3FkPfkuPmgqbfSY8SQzXne9yGABU9dMMu5UEv5xyOUke5SXFADznjd5CZw4WmzAF/s1600/f2.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No ticket<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLPkqAfGB_r82rpwKPwX2Nz-eWfOh3IZV8sCm4PbcKP4GdYZmSjJoJQAv_-t4xSjxUzn6EWHMTFUja7hmy0W5_iqn-exGwcjTQiHO9OnAxwYuhpw3fSL4dl7HLFFCwKbY1uJ_qtuALuw3u/s1600/red.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLPkqAfGB_r82rpwKPwX2Nz-eWfOh3IZV8sCm4PbcKP4GdYZmSjJoJQAv_-t4xSjxUzn6EWHMTFUja7hmy0W5_iqn-exGwcjTQiHO9OnAxwYuhpw3fSL4dl7HLFFCwKbY1uJ_qtuALuw3u/s1600/red.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Swim trunks - ticket</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-84667408530569985882011-06-08T18:55:00.000-07:002011-06-11T07:30:12.297-07:00The middle ground - CAT-Os and morning commutersHaving been off the bike for the last week or so (bad hamstring, bad bad hamstring) I've been forced into the dreaded car.<br />
This is a painful thing seeing all the bikers going merrily about the day while I'm stuck in way too much metal and plastic.<br />
<br />
I've always thought that the Costumed And Tattooed (CAT-0) who go about terrorizing the other users of MUPs have a lot in common with aggressive drivers. The only difference is that the drivers are pretty much forced to slow and wait to pass when there's oncoming traffic whereas the CAT-0s simply blasts down the middle.<br />
<br />
I was wrong.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMs3GOl-pwu2mckl7ZAgAwrlvnVsZJ-TJixqYr7cc9C8xm25JOY_ixdcjKo2Zbhu2oEbp5Xie5ezFjFM2Zjp78HvNgopMnr5JgCqKgPrXMz6-cdYrYA7PkBtuNalinUUcQ2_wtpwrWv-yk/s1600/car.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMs3GOl-pwu2mckl7ZAgAwrlvnVsZJ-TJixqYr7cc9C8xm25JOY_ixdcjKo2Zbhu2oEbp5Xie5ezFjFM2Zjp78HvNgopMnr5JgCqKgPrXMz6-cdYrYA7PkBtuNalinUUcQ2_wtpwrWv-yk/s1600/car.jpeg" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Driving to work on MacArthur Blvd. has shown me the light. The number of cars that straddle the middle to pass the bikers while there is oncoming traffic is scary. I've even encountered cars that are half in my lane coming around blind curves. This has damaged my cyche. I thought it was only the CAT-0s that figured they have a right to make you use half of your lane. I had no idea that someone driving an SUV figured the same way.<br />
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They certainly figured right. I will hold my ground when the CAT-0s challenge me but no way I'm messing with damn commuters in SUVs. I scooted over every time.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-14431834558418739912011-06-06T16:43:00.000-07:002011-06-06T16:44:13.147-07:00b x c x d > a x d2 + eb2In my never ending quest to understand how exactly I don't fall over more often I stumbled on this:<br />
<br />
<embed allowfullscreen="true" height="334" src="http://www.sciencefriday.com/embed/video/10376.swf" width="560"></embed><br />
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My search continues.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-21197519533215876692011-05-23T05:52:00.000-07:002011-05-23T05:53:28.560-07:00Poor poor pitiful me<div style="font: 12px Times; margin: 0px;"></div><div style="font: 14px Times; margin: 0px;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><div style="font: 16px Times; margin: 0px;"></div><div style="font: 10px Times; margin: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheMgGs22A0HjeJsNdy5oaUKISzHaWZ7NsWo98ppwLgJQdB1bGKS_p1-OHaXxbJ_o-8_GM9NQ_IaNBewE0z-jlioA0oEpwnn3XigL5QIfLytYbCGK0TrXq68BNNFWgTHtJOlHkMr2_4fZrl/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-15+at+3.59.27+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheMgGs22A0HjeJsNdy5oaUKISzHaWZ7NsWo98ppwLgJQdB1bGKS_p1-OHaXxbJ_o-8_GM9NQ_IaNBewE0z-jlioA0oEpwnn3XigL5QIfLytYbCGK0TrXq68BNNFWgTHtJOlHkMr2_4fZrl/s320/Screen+shot+2011-05-15+at+3.59.27+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This </span></span><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/caution-new-bicyclist-ahead/2011/05/11/AFCEEz2G_story.html"><span style="color: #053bee;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">story</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> in the Washington Post tells the adventure of a dad taking his son out for riding lessons on a local MUP. Pretty funny. Not the story, the comments. </span></span></div><div style="font: 10px Times; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So here we have a father taking his son, fresh out of training wheels, out for a ride on an MUP. After 30 minutes he gave up. He asked:</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px Times; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Was it unreasonable for me to ask that people make room for a dad using one lane of the bike trail to teach his kid how to ride? Should I have more respect for the super-commuters who use (I’m being generous) their ride home to blow off steam from a rough day? I honestly don’t know. My wife says I was brave even to try."</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px Times; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Well, yeah. What a stupid question. As you can imagine the responses from the bikers were all in agreement that it was a dumb idea. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Alsatan1 wrote:</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Please don't mix your medium, wobbly (i.e., unpredictable 40 pound son going 5mph with large balanced 180 pound cyclists going 10-20 mph. Your son is the unexpected condition and the collision would have had terrible results for everyone. It wasn't a good idea."</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A public MUP where individuals and families run and walk and ride. What kind of a father would throw his kid into this mix?</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">He continues:</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"It's one of the worst because it's one of the most unpredictable. It puts me in a position to make a split second decision with which I have little experience."</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Ah, the ol' split second decision. We've all faced it. You're riding along and up ahead are people. Maybe even little people. We know that little people can be even more unpredictable than the big kind. So let's just maintain our pace til we're right on top of them (because you can't whisper "on your left" until you're like right on top of them) and hope like hell we don't have to deal with the split second decision.</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Now quick, the cyclist has to weigh those options and make a decision in 2 seconds."</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The cyclist must make a decision in 2 seconds because the cyclist isn't looking down the road. He's checking his "stats" on his $200 Garmin bike computer. And if the cyclist were to plan for some unforeseen event then he would need to adjust his speed and the cyclist simply will not adjust the speed unless it's absolutely necessary and only then within the last possible 2 seconds. </span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Nosmo writes:</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Was it too inconvenient to either walk or toss the childs bike into the back seat of the car and find an empty parking lot at a nearby Church or school? Sheesh... the kid wasn't scared of the fast moving bike riders, he was scared of the knucklehead decision of his father for thinking it was a great solution to put his son in a dangerous situation."</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And is there any situation more dangerous than the runners and the walkers and the dogs and mothers pushing a baby carriage? Because it's not the fast moving bike riders. Yes it takes a real knucklehead to go out to an MUP and think those damned mothers with their baby carriages won't be terrorizing all the other MUP users. </span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Alsatan1 again:</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Most cyclists pass you with a warning, almost all pass you safely."</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Alsatan1 lives in a different world than I do.</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"If you expect cyclists to reduce speed to 5 mph for every runner they pass, cyclists will not be able to utilize the trails and will use the roads where they'll demand cars reduce their speed to 12 mph, but then a runner will be on the road at 5mph, the cyclist will to to 5 mph and the cars will need to go 5mph. Ridiculous, right?"</span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It sure is! I can't recall the last time I read anything so ridiculous. </span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I'm curious though. What is the minimum speed a cyclist can pass runners and still be able to utilize the trail? Is it 7mph? 9? </span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I could be wrong here but I don't think we expect cars to travel at the same speed as us, just that they use some caution and pass safely and not blast by us with inches to spare, that when there's no opening they actually slow and wait. </span></span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My guess is that not one other user of the trail on that day had a problem with the little one on his bike. I doubt a single runner or stroller had a complaint. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: medium;">I doubt any of them were unable to look at it as anything but a father teaching a kid how to ride a bike. I doubt any of them saw it as some kind of intrusion and a "dangerous" thing to do with a kid. </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="font: 10px/22px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The poor poor lonely biker. So misunderstood. All he wants is to get where he's going at the pace he wants to use and for others to get the hell out of the way. Is that so much to ask?</span></span></div></span></div>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-77379562346830673462011-04-29T14:38:00.000-07:002011-05-08T04:03:36.406-07:00Climb every mountainLast fall I bought a bunch of t-shirts from the North Face store in Georgetown because they were on sale. I'm all about the on sale.<br />
<div>One of them is blue with a list of mountains in big white letters. Climbers mountains - Everest, Kilamanjaro, Denali and 4 more I've never heard of. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJBnGgeQmU8PlGrTozr0w8ajSLRKmFT180HcIgaLbeBWE450pXVDJ0ufgVyDyGGETpjXjfuw92gFDj1MFVKperkgwMM10qvQDThGG59pAU-yJQA4rk8OZMTVZYXcLAc4VQVzvMfUcKHNM/s1600/everest.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJBnGgeQmU8PlGrTozr0w8ajSLRKmFT180HcIgaLbeBWE450pXVDJ0ufgVyDyGGETpjXjfuw92gFDj1MFVKperkgwMM10qvQDThGG59pAU-yJQA4rk8OZMTVZYXcLAc4VQVzvMfUcKHNM/s1600/everest.jpeg" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Now, I've looked at mountains, mostly in pictures, because they're there. But I've never thought of climbing one and don't intend to think of it any time soon. The idea of sitting about for weeks on end with nothing to do except to eat and read and walk around and melt snow while I become acclimated so I can walk down and repeat the process so I can walk up higher and repeat the process just doesn't appeal.</div><div><br />
</div><div>So today I'm off to get a hearing test (wearing my very blue tee with the list of mountains) because I'm going to need a hearing aid real soon. First I went to the wrong building and then had the wrong room number cause that's what was in my calendar and after that got sorted out I got to the right place and I go to the desk and the lady looks at me like I'm crazy and says my appointment was April 1. My calendar says April 29. So I explain to her that when we were on the phone setting this up and I'm writing all this down and managed to get all this stuff wrong then that should qualify as an emergency cause obviously I can't hear shite and she should get me in asap. Apparently it's not an emergency to them cause my next appointment is May 27.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNCqarThMsaRUP9xtCLGRy8HE6GbLzCyrqMUQ5u0YN-wHCBezGJnfzwXr_2RtQrdgS4rhPmwD3yDhV7lwfpfwhRC4Z0R9QXOHS2iqalvU1_nTbvXeK1qFJWFj_A1g5x2gBwqer221tKei6/s1600/hearing+aids.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="116" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNCqarThMsaRUP9xtCLGRy8HE6GbLzCyrqMUQ5u0YN-wHCBezGJnfzwXr_2RtQrdgS4rhPmwD3yDhV7lwfpfwhRC4Z0R9QXOHS2iqalvU1_nTbvXeK1qFJWFj_A1g5x2gBwqer221tKei6/s200/hearing+aids.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I'm leaving a bloke sitting there asks me how many of them I've climbed. Huh? He points to my shirt. I haven't climbed any of them because I'm not an idiot. I explain the on sale concept and I don't know nuttin about no mountain climbing. I guess he's here for hearing issues also because he pretty much acts like he didn't hear a word I said as he starts listing the ones he's climbed and tells me how it's a great life and he's spent 22 weeks in a tent in the Rockies and he's going to climb this one next and then that one. I'm trying to get out of there because I have no interest in any of this but he won't have any of that 'cause I'm wearing a frickin t-shirt with the names of mountains on it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There's a certain point in life where every second is precious and it happens when you know they're in the count down phase. I had stood there silently nodding my approval of his exploits when it hit me that this was wasting precious seconds so I turned my heels and left him. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I decided to ride up to capital hill to check out the new bike store. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0TURyG9rAUT-gg1aeXt84neicyEJwVbB0GOCcWUdRqXiNRfJl3svA3ytyGbM6xdMZpSjMMpnS8cVm0c-sE2JjO0V9do2zUPHx9nBUw2vaePuOLNZeMb8RdESY6bVOVvIz0hP0OTX3HpxJ/s1600/ciytbikes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0TURyG9rAUT-gg1aeXt84neicyEJwVbB0GOCcWUdRqXiNRfJl3svA3ytyGbM6xdMZpSjMMpnS8cVm0c-sE2JjO0V9do2zUPHx9nBUw2vaePuOLNZeMb8RdESY6bVOVvIz0hP0OTX3HpxJ/s320/ciytbikes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's a pleasant day save for strong winds, still good day for riding. I get there and walk in and a bloke comes over and asks me how many I've climbed! He then proceeds to tell me he hasn't climbed any either, just some smaller ones, but he's making plans. Wants to get to Everest in a couple of years. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So I'm all nice and nodding my approval like I'm almost interested as my time slips away. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I think I'm onto something here. If an iPad can convince people I'm cool when the closest I came to cool was in the 70's and there was nothing cool in the 70's, and if a t-shirt can make people think I've lost my mind and am willing to climb up the side of some mountain then I should think about getting a road bike and a costume to go with it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Instead of getting yelled at to "<a href="http://velodc.blogspot.com/2010/11/gas.html">learn how to ride</a>!" I would be given that knowing nod of brotherhood, like I've just finished an "awesome" ride and am cooling down on my way home. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No more second class citizen for me! I'm going to look like I ride with the big boys. I don't know why I never thought of this before.</div>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-18182428902283959372011-04-17T14:20:00.000-07:002011-05-15T05:24:09.990-07:00The real "Awesome"These guys are too cool.<br />
<br />
Check out the give and go around 2:35.<br />
<br />
<object height="390" width="640"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FCe2-QrCeOs&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&version=3"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FCe2-QrCeOs&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="390"></embed></object>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-69313138236028951282011-04-12T09:09:00.000-07:002011-06-15T03:34:22.318-07:00Max CrankyThe thing about being a cranky old man is you have to be cranky even on days when you don't feel it. If an opportunity presents itself you have to reply. It's part of the package and image and I'm all about the package and image.<br />
<br />
Take yesterday. The weather has not been very springy but it's getting there and more people are out and about. I was tooling around (yes, I can do "tool" too) early on a beautiful morning and before I knew it I was heading home all pissed at the world. Ah, people.<br />
<br />
It started just a few miles from home. I was tooling along early in the morning and there were few of the dreaded cars and life was good. I approached an intersection and the light was green and just as I was about to enter a slew of the costumed RB's (real bikers) came up on the side street and gave a quick look for traffic (and apparently straight through me) and proceeded through the red light with nary a tap on the brakes. I kept my pace figuring they would brake to let me through but that was just silly. I was no threat and besides it was obvious I was tooling, right of way or not. They had times to beat and paces to keep. Words were exchanged.<br />
<br />
Now I'm cranky.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLxnvDVGkFjzWLc_UtOkjabEJgarc6KwgXbAZOWWJW8bYSm2xX-6Pwen6DVJauXCxwgiiymEZsaX8CuZIDPF4eA-cFzvgidsdFM1ICDkt4EDzUN3R99PBCDOuqHyJxL3eX7Evmm8rh_5I/s1600/cranky.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLxnvDVGkFjzWLc_UtOkjabEJgarc6KwgXbAZOWWJW8bYSm2xX-6Pwen6DVJauXCxwgiiymEZsaX8CuZIDPF4eA-cFzvgidsdFM1ICDkt4EDzUN3R99PBCDOuqHyJxL3eX7Evmm8rh_5I/s320/cranky.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So I head on down town and I'm going though an intersection, again with the green light, when some big ol' tool in a big ol' truck comes racing up the side street, gives a quick look left and proceeds to turn right on red right in front of me, barely slowing down. Words were exchanged.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So now I'm crankier. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBEJj3HwCaUPWtijIhA07zdbOWjp1oVaKc-S4G56SNV3WwQeDPe9k3d-jZ2ZigyAp7VqMAVSahczqgmKWvZk6_HWJgrYX8ntrxeIpB7Sa2U7KVoGc-k0wnDOIIbtgIDSDXszzgYBHg2lV/s1600/cr2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBEJj3HwCaUPWtijIhA07zdbOWjp1oVaKc-S4G56SNV3WwQeDPe9k3d-jZ2ZigyAp7VqMAVSahczqgmKWvZk6_HWJgrYX8ntrxeIpB7Sa2U7KVoGc-k0wnDOIIbtgIDSDXszzgYBHg2lV/s320/cr2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>I decided to pull over to see if I could see my reflection in a shop window. Yep, there I was alright.<br />
<br />
Now I'm in the middle of Pennsylvania avenue in the bike lane and behind a couple of other folks out for an early morning ride and we come to a stop light and we're queued and some tatootool comes up from behind and edges out to the front of us so he's first in line 'cause he has, you know, tattoo's. Words were exchanged.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXQq_9DYr-tmM5w0m1yPSoIGkgPFUZQkJUXqPut7xNh8IYaB_dtrorm8Aw8UgN-yiUCQWnv-nWLg_d8kKpcSVhPOLR_kkWkxYEt9oaFLKaRzF1aK1SxEZn84QBDV-RicB-OMgXmTFREO-/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-04-12+at+11.44.17+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXQq_9DYr-tmM5w0m1yPSoIGkgPFUZQkJUXqPut7xNh8IYaB_dtrorm8Aw8UgN-yiUCQWnv-nWLg_d8kKpcSVhPOLR_kkWkxYEt9oaFLKaRzF1aK1SxEZn84QBDV-RicB-OMgXmTFREO-/s320/Screen+shot+2011-04-12+at+11.44.17+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I'm pretty cool. I have an iPad and a "lifestyle". I'm starting to think that don't amount to much. What's the point of being all that and more if you don't get a little respect?<br />
<br />
The next couple of hours went without incident and I was again enjoying the good life.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYm7vS58LOdtGphsMd5qL9lZXl3vqgbqyJy3yLsj5hylW5XonDWKL5boNinfd6Txoj7uVDITffTYXRHJqH0jI4K88qdwKTNRH_NNeHfEjXk7at9tdTN5uux2CgkMBer_ajnGAis4wVrqJn/s1600/dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYm7vS58LOdtGphsMd5qL9lZXl3vqgbqyJy3yLsj5hylW5XonDWKL5boNinfd6Txoj7uVDITffTYXRHJqH0jI4K88qdwKTNRH_NNeHfEjXk7at9tdTN5uux2CgkMBer_ajnGAis4wVrqJn/s320/dog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
On my way home I decided to go to this restaurant in Georgetown U for some light lunch, it has a big buffet and lots of choices and is usually only packed during games and I like it.<br />
<br />
Today there were like a busload of people in there and so I joined the queue. Four little old ladies came walking by, muttering something about "ridiculous", and proceeded to the front of the buffet.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43l376xzZ6gX-NrSae3h9It8iCuekwuGW2RWd60jpMp8Xs9CqqCgbXujIWZxcAjblJxfzi540uO7GR9XhKEyjKKdROSCBgbMkBqJ5FH9vbXVE_S4TY__gdAS0g8LlfVyBFgGavZM5Jsqx/s1600/lady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43l376xzZ6gX-NrSae3h9It8iCuekwuGW2RWd60jpMp8Xs9CqqCgbXujIWZxcAjblJxfzi540uO7GR9XhKEyjKKdROSCBgbMkBqJ5FH9vbXVE_S4TY__gdAS0g8LlfVyBFgGavZM5Jsqx/s1600/lady.jpg" /></a></div><br />
No words were exchanged. I'll get cranky with a bunch of costumed tools, a tatootool and even some big ol' tool in a big ol' truck but there are some times when you're simply out crankied.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-16433451324701328092011-04-05T16:06:00.000-07:002011-04-07T08:05:23.191-07:00WobbleAs I'm going along I often wonder how it is we stay up on these things. I've read a bit on this but even what appears to be the simplest of articles soon turns into headache inducing jibberish. Words like centrifugal and angular momentum and rake and gyroscope and planar and vector appear. These are usually followed by things that some people on the planet can understand.<br />
Things like:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">0 = Cfriction x V x P + Cair x v^2 x v - Cslope x P x% slope </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;">x V</span></div><br />
And they go on for pages with illustrations and graphs.<br />
<br />
I don't know any of those people.<br />
<br />
When my mind contemplates these things I usually get disoriented and wobbly. Not the old kind of disoriented and wobbly but the kind that strikes you suddenly like you've just walked into a bike shop and two tatootools are having a conversation and you notice that neither are using words like "sick" and "dude" and "awesome".<br />
<br />
There are few things worse than the wobble. Only two things can happen, you either regain control or you don't. So it strikes me as peculiar that someone would <a href="http://momentumplanet.com/articles/build-your-own-wobble-bike">build a bike so they can get on with their wobble</a>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjblkhFGKO5zzVQnFMMva9pz8nqpQhtC9RKqpr_mJz3uwUsxNGUneYUjNN4rmuG-vjN_ojGFC7ohSQvSw5WJqdsk7LzkOSbtNxpvl5AW_EzgHRwxP9ihzzXVAwWQ8zgExUAhj-TDRqUmH/s1600/50-DIY-Wobble_Demo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjblkhFGKO5zzVQnFMMva9pz8nqpQhtC9RKqpr_mJz3uwUsxNGUneYUjNN4rmuG-vjN_ojGFC7ohSQvSw5WJqdsk7LzkOSbtNxpvl5AW_EzgHRwxP9ihzzXVAwWQ8zgExUAhj-TDRqUmH/s320/50-DIY-Wobble_Demo.jpg" width="217" /></a></div><br />
<br />
They say it only takes a couple of minutes to get used to. My question is how many fall down go boom's are included in those few minutes. I'm not fond of the fall down go boom way of riding and as one of the Laws of Old states, once you reach a certain age if you fall you're not allowed to get up without the aid of a good samaritan (are there bad samaritans?). I haven't reached that age yet but it's unclear at what point that kicks in so I see no reason to push my luck.<br />
After you master the wobble bike you'll be able to ride it anywhere. I can ride my regular bike anywhere and choose when to wobble. All I need to do is think about angular momentum and vectors.Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1912499996808138403.post-18635340196850206142011-04-01T20:04:00.000-07:002011-06-19T16:43:33.253-07:00As the comedian said...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: #5e5e5f; font: 16.0px Times; line-height: 14.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"You can't fix stupid".</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_NCM8hoQb7v3quXgcRJYzQz8N5DPGDupuPxhOEU48SXkRjW5WD3iD09whQ-X13cJT1b7Uu617thKHHyuWVZtz2auxz7BZ3Jc45fuOfzlhob68N1C6pyaIbQ0wkM0GFRlf5ahVQla6PmMG/s1600/brain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_NCM8hoQb7v3quXgcRJYzQz8N5DPGDupuPxhOEU48SXkRjW5WD3iD09whQ-X13cJT1b7Uu617thKHHyuWVZtz2auxz7BZ3Jc45fuOfzlhob68N1C6pyaIbQ0wkM0GFRlf5ahVQla6PmMG/s320/brain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div style="color: #5e5e5f; font: 16.0px Times; line-height: 14.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 19.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #5e5e5f; font: normal normal normal 16px/normal Times; line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.thewashcycle.com/">TheWashCycle</a> links to another <a href="http://www.wnd.com/index.php?fa=PAGE.view&pageId=281269"><span style="color: #f22d17;">brilliant</span></a> piece from a know it all right wing nut job. Yeah, I said it. </div><div style="color: #232323; font: normal normal normal 16px/normal Times; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 16px/normal Times; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Lance was here in DC objecting to some republican recommendations for budget cuts to the NIH. This didn't set well with this "brilliant" person.<br />
<br />
"It takes one to know one. Therefore, one must assume that professional cyclist Lance Armstrong is among the world's "brightest" people."<br />
Yep, that's how she starts off.<br />
<br />
"We all understand how brilliant you have to be to peddle a bicycle for a living."<br />
<br />
She's such a clever one!, So, miss smarty pants (two can do this clever thing), what does riding a bike have to do with intelligence? Ok, if we're talking about riders of the fixed gear bicycle (aka <a href="http://velodc.blogspot.com/2011/01/tattoo-who-two.html">tatootools</a>) then I'll give you that one. But if you got, say, a 3 speed, then you're just as likely to be "brilliant" as the next person, or, uh, not. What the hell are you talking about?<br />
<br />
She says Lance and his "liberal" pals think government funding is the answer to every ailment. She's just making that up. They never said that.<br />
At what point did name calling become some kind of valid arguing point? Throw out "liberal" and "left" enough and you don't have to actually support your argument.<br />
<br />
Speaking of stupid...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt1IDXA0ydR7XjeviTF8XlR6KbrZuLh5guj64XDHiVKA2uKKb7sQr-XDQv4pebHA2WVmy1oRakSB6kV-pIosf0CtostgekOt3GunorxJY5hnOy4OoyTlvzz5D8-82vFzyE6D0Hr0OrcM6v/s1600/locallaw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt1IDXA0ydR7XjeviTF8XlR6KbrZuLh5guj64XDHiVKA2uKKb7sQr-XDQv4pebHA2WVmy1oRakSB6kV-pIosf0CtostgekOt3GunorxJY5hnOy4OoyTlvzz5D8-82vFzyE6D0Hr0OrcM6v/s320/locallaw.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
This article in <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/victims-families-aaa-push-for-stronger-vehicular-homicide-law-in-maryland/2011/03/29/AFNEBxxB_story.html">The Washington Post</a> talks about the law they're trying to change in Maryland to make drivers who kill people more responsible for their actions, like send them to jail.<br />
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I admit that "brilliant" and me ain't likely to cross paths anytime soon, but it don't take a whole lot of functioning brain cells to see that if you are the one and only guidance system for a 1 to 3 ton missile and you can't be bothered to make sure you guide it away from other human beings so as you don't kill them then your ass should go to jail.<br />
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The state senator, a left wing nut job, there I said it, said "If it's not intentional and it's not grossly negligent, do we really want to send somebody to jail?".<br />
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Well, yeah.<br />
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If you just had to take that phone call or turn around to grab something in the back or whatever other distraction you have handy then you are intentionally disengaging the guidance system and when the guidance system is offline it don't take long for that missile to veer off course.<br />
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The legal-dictionary definition: Gross negligence is a conscience and voluntary disregard of the need to use reasonable care.<br />
Disengaging the guidance system sounds like gross negligence to me, but hey, I'm not some state senator.<br />
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</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 16px/normal Times; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">You lost control of the missile you're supposed to be guiding, the other person lost their frickin life. When talking about loss it don't get no bigger than life.<br />
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I say put 'em behind bars.</div>Velo DChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11466037080093558947noreply@blogger.com0