Remember This???

I'm a stubborn bastard. That's for sure. Any sane person would've taken this incident to heart and done something definitive to prevent future malfunction. Not me. Lazy (note the blog name) and mechanically dumb.

The Tacchino course is the kinda course that makes me squirm with glee. Only catch, it's bumpy as heck. Kinda like my washboard abs. Or not. In any case, seems the courses suited to my strengths are the ones that also like to shake my chain loose. Again, see this report.

After five dropped chains this past Sunday, I had to excuse myself. Pretty disappointing, but so was having to dismount twice a lap to fix my chain. Beyond that hiccup, the fitness was surprisingly okay. The field was similar to DCCX, the course was slightly less technical, and I saw a top five within the 'crosshairs (pun...intended...absolutely) after another front row start. The 'cross season has been a bit of a bummer, but I also haven't devoted time, energy, and fitness to it. The DCCX result was encouraging and another decent result on a course I really like would've been slightly redeeming. I guess that'll have to wait.

This coming weekend...Race Pace. I won the C race there last year. Must be another course I like. I remember some sweet power sections and some good run-ups I managed to ride. I'm psyched to see how I fare in the B race. But that will have to wait until next year. This weekend will find me scoping the scene in Boise.

I'm turning over a new leaf on many fronts, so I hope to update here much more regularly.

It happened again...

Dunno that I've written about it before, but I've, several times in the past, suffered bizarre episodes of hearing tunes by favorite musicians creep their way into corporate advertisements.

It started with a Buick(?) commercial several years ago. I was in the kitchen and washing dishes. The boob tube was on in the other room and suddenly I heard the opening riffs to 'Gravity Rides Everything' (Modest Mouse). Hunh? I thought the TV had shut down and the stereo had suddenly sprung to life. Hands still wet, I scooted into the living room and couldn't quite believe my eyes and ears. A big-wig ad exec probably overheard some 'indie' tunes spilling from his teenage son's bedroom and figured it'd make a good soundtrack for his next project. And so there I was, watching a soccer mom load up her Buick mini-van to Isaac Brock's wistful guitar composition.

Next up was Dickie Buckman (politely known as Richard Buckner). Same situation as above. TV was on, I was in another room, and I heard a tune that hit home. And this time it was 'Ariel Ramirez' as background for a VW commercial. With that one, I even got the background story, as I chatted up Richard at the next Iota show he played. Of course, I can't remember how it all went down. Needless to say, I don't know the exposure launched Mr. Buckner to any sorta super-stardom. I have to say, though, he hasn't been as publicly available at the last coupla Iota shows.

And now VW's back at it. They've jumped on the Jeff Tweedy express. That's right. Wilco is prominently featured in VW's current ad campaign. I've seen two commercials and, on first listen, recognize them from 'Sky Blue Sky.' That album isn't yet permanently ingrained in my brain like all the others, so I can't cite the specific songs played. Never mind one ad seems to promote driving for no constructive reason. In it, some dude wakes up at 5AM to drive around with no specific errand to run and crawls back in bed one hour and twenty-seven minutes later. Good message to send with gas at $3+ a gallon. Anyhow, I guess it all leads to one conclusion...

My musical tastes are a little more conventional than they used to be.

Next thing you know, I'll hear Built to Spill's 'Reasons' as the backing track for a Target commercial. When that happens, I think I'll have to official retire any aspirations of being 'music forward.'

A Shared Pain

Mike May smartly sums up the coach/cyclist relationship here.

Tri-hawk Confusion

Apparently, my lack of follow through has caused my Grandma some confusion. Long ago, I promised an entry describing and showing a newly discovered, fashion-forward, blow the Euros away hair-do. I never made good on the offer and didn't realize my actions would have such major repercussions.

And so here is a photo of the style I call the tri-hawk. Though the faux-hawk still seems a bit radical in the U.S., I think this look steps it up a whole level...maybe two. Check it:

That one's for you, Grandma.

A pleasant time at the Good Valley Road Race

Rather, 'A good time at the Pleasant Valley Road Race.'

This past weekend, I lined up for the first running of the Pleasant Valley Road Race. Great course. Decent rollers, but nothing out of control. The finish was cool...a pretty steep pitch with about 200 meters to go.

The heat was the toughest part of the race. I heard several reports at the start line of temps hitting around 108 degrees. Hot!

The race was largely uneventful and I didn't feel too taxed...despite the heat. Maybe it has something to do with 15 years of athletic competition in Miami, Florida, but I tend to do okay in the extreme heat.

For me, the highlight of my race was my ill-timed move to the front. As I've mentioned, my worst enemy for a finishing sprint is, not surprisingly, position in the last km. I tried to work things out so I would move to the front for the last 3km or so. Well, my cyclometer must've been playing tricks on me. I worked my way forward thinking there were about 1.5 miles to go. Dave Crouse was up there and I got the sense he also thought we were closer to home than we were.

We jockeyed up front for about 3 more miles before we hit the final two pitches. Coming into what was the feed zone, I was sitting about third wheel. Never one to want to piss off the bunch, I held off crossing the yellow line in the closing stretch. I kinda thought we were free to move over at the base of the feed zone climb, but then I heard someone claim the road was open at 200 meters to go. Of course, I never saw a 200 meter sign. And so I never made a jump that might've won the sprint. Instead, I gave a push up the final short hill and passed a Route1 rider about 1 yard from the finish line. I try not to give up coming to the line and this time it paid off with a fifth place finish.

It was a wonderful day to be out racing bikes and it was all the better with my closest crew cheering from the sidelines. Thanks to hEllicott, the Commish, and SVR for being there at the finish and then trucking up to Ellicott City for post-race sustenance and libations. Mmmm.

Recycled News

With the heat index still over 100 degrees at 7:30PM, surely I've an excuse for feeling lethargic. My lethargy is forcing me to recycle my account of a fun and entertaining weekend of racing at the International Tour de 'Toona. At the urging of my 'mates who weren't around to witness my results, I posted the following on the team's Google groups board:

Friday

The circuit race was fun. I heard there was little chance at breaks sticking, but I didn't let that stop me from bridging to the only break of the day. Turned out to be a bust, but at least I opened up the legs a bit with that one.

The finish was in town and quite technical. I wasn't forward enough coming into the first turn into town. There were requisite crashes and I held on for a not-so-impressive 23rd. No points.

Saturday

The 4s did a short race. We went up and down one hill and came ripping into 'Toona. I crested the climb with a lead group of about 15. The descent was incredible! Looking at the cyclometer, and I assume my max speed for the stage wasn't during the sprint, we maxed out at 54 mph. That was made possible by the very cool rolling enclosure. Those speeds are only do-able when you can take the whole road for turns.

Coming into town, I heeded Evan's excellent advice and kept my eyes open for the 1 km sign. I guess our lead group turned into about 27 guys by that point. I tend to have a problem getting good positioning coming into a sprint, so this time I made a decision that coulda bit me in the tush. At about 750 meters, I clawed my way to the front, right side of the group. I hung out in the wind for a good 500 meters. It was my only chance to stay up front. At about 250 meters, I saw the 200 meter sign and figured my best chance was to go from that distance. I ramped up and laid down as much sprint as my 131 pound body could muster. Turned out to be enough. Good times. 25 points.

Sunday

So...after stage two, I was sitting pretty in third on the GC. The guy in fourth was one point back. The goals for Sunday were to finish the crit and try to keep rider 603 in my crosshairs so I could finish near him. I thought I had it wrapped up. With five laps to go, I stopped seeing his number in the 20 or so guys who were ahead of me on course. Seemed like good news. Like Friday, I never took the risk enough to get into the top ten for the finish sprint. I rolled in for 21st, but was content to finish a crit that clocked in faster than the cat. 3s. Not seeing 603 ahead of me, I thought I was gonna hold on to my GC spot. No such luck. During the podium presentation, mister 603 was standing tall on the top step. Doh!

In the end, my weakness in the crit bumped me three spots to 6th on the GC. Not the best. Not the worst.

All in all, 'Toona was a blast. TnT's support was excellent and appreciated. Of course, Evan needs to get better soon.

The Big 'Toona

Complete post in short order.

Short(est) story...pulled off a 'w' for stage two and a 6th in the overall GC (Cat. IV, of course). Felt strong every step of the way.

Vino Collapso

Borrowing from Phil Liggett's commentary a few years back. Then, however, he said, "Not quite Vino collapso." Now we can just lop off the 'not quite' and be done with it. (BTW...maybe Steven can confirm the term's Scottish origin.)

I hate to rush to judgment, but...this is just sickening. I can only imagine the first excuse will be from a doctor. He'll say, "Vino suffered some massive blood loss during his crashes. A transfusion was the only option to keep him going." It sure kept him going, eh?

Judd's Preliminary

1. Vino
2. Levi
3. Valverde
4. Evans
5. Menchov
6. Sastre
7. Moreau
8. Kloden
9. Schleck
10. Popo

Green: Boonen
Polka: Rasmussen
White: Dekker

In the wings: Rogers, Karpets, Beltran

Rob's Preliminary

1. Vino

2. Levi

3. Menchov

4. Kloden

5. Evans

6. Moreau

7. Kashenchkin

8. Sastre

9. Contador

10. Pereiro

Green - McEwen

Polkadot - Moreau

The Rules

Choose the top ten.

1 point for each rider in the top ten.

Additional 3 points for each correct podium placing.
Additional 2 points for a correct placing in the top 4-10.

5 points for the yellow jersey.

3 points for points jersey.

3 points for mountain jersey.
3 points for white jersey.

47 total possible points.

XS

Turns out, extra-small cycling jerseys have extra-small rear pockets. Who woulda thunk it? I guess I must choose between fit, fashion, and function.

Been trying to find a moment to settle in for a substantial update covering euro-style trend setting (I stumbled on a new hair style I'll call the 'tri-hawk'), trials and tribulations out on Skyline Drive (I pulled a Pete Custer and snapped a cable right at the start of things), and speed and fury at Reston (I finished the dang thing despite wasting sh*t tons of energy wondering if I should actually saddle up after watching a fellow in the 3/4 race break his arm nearly in two). Sounds like a potentially meaty post, eh?

Maybe I'll be in good shape to jot a robust post after tonight's beer tasting dinner at Colorado Kitchen with MattyD. and Katie. Should be fun!

Say it ain't so!!!

Many, many, many years ago, he was one of my absolute favorites.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070612/ap_en_tv/obit_herbert

RIP

The Quicksilver--2007

I'm kinda at a loss to make something exciting out of something quite ordinary. The Quicksilver was a tough-ish effort and nothing more thrilling than a chance to avoid falling down.

I've not succeeded much with the crit thing and wasn't expecting much more this time around. At least the day was pleasant, with sunshine galore, and I didn't need to rise at 5AM to get to the race start. As much as I prefer early mornings for getting a jump on the day, I don't tend to excel at the early morning racing.

Arriving early at the race allowed for some solid pre-race socializing. Pete Custer (racing with the 4s for some mind-boggling reason) was manning the DJ booth and keeping the tunes fresh. Had a pleasant chat with Steven Grant and got caught up on his whirlwind European tour. Drooled over Dave Crouse's carbon hoops (which, unfortunately, didn't serve him so well down the road). And laughed a bit at how mellow Linus, Eric Welp's greyhound, keeps it. Apparently, he used all his energy out on the race track (Linus, not Eric). Also touched base with William Stiles, the fellow whose badly injured finger at Poolesville left me looking like a real warrior. See the long overdue bloodbath shots.



It was nice to warm it up out on the course and, believe it or not, the few loops seemed adequate and a nice change from time wearing down the rubber on the trainer.

We started with 100 guys and I actually landed a second row starting position. In the past, good starting positions usually yielded messy pedal entry and lost momentum and position for me. For once, the start went fluidly and I wasn't out the back before the first turn. TnT was pretty well represented and I had some mid-race communication with David Kemp. We tried a few tandem moves, but I think the tactics still need some brushing up. In due time.

The long and short of it is...I didn't get dropped, lapped, or catapulted towards the pavement. Heck, I think (as it all runs together after going round and round and round and round) I even covered two attacks and vaguely initiated two. One time, I even tried to bridge to Kemp and thought we might power along together. No luck there. Another time, I was glad to see Pete Custer bridge up. If the past was any indicator, I thought we might gun it and actually stay away. No dice there either.

Needless to say, this crit was another chance for some hot heads to scream and shout and curse and more or less get violent in the closing few laps. As others noted, there were even some fists flying on the last lap or two. I just don't get that. Seems like, once the crashes start, the tempers flare even hotter.

Speaking of crashes, I came really, really, really close to getting taken down. The first crash of the race happen two wheels ahead of me. There were the typical jumps and jives to avoid the fallen men. I ended up leaning heavily on rider 490 (dunno know his name...just his number). He/we did, in my opinion, an excellent job of counter-balancing and righting ourselves. Freaky shit, but we made it through.

For me, the finish was fair to middling. I came into the last turn far enough up in the field to avoid the requisite crash that effed up a bunch of guys farther back in the pack. I didn't, however, come in far enough forward to really contest the sprint. And the course was really well suited to my finishing ability...a punchy little uphill for the last 150m. Much like at Carl Dolan, I was far enough back to survey the front twenty guys losing all sorts of steam. Of course, I felt like my cylinders were ready to fire it up. Alas, I just didn't have the killer instinct to wind it up to fight for that top five or ten. I get pretty nervous that the fellers fading up front aren't gonna hold a steady course as they approach the line. Picking, bobbing, and weaving through the ten guys ahead of me just struck me as too risky. And so I settled for 17th.

Considering my past weak showings at crits, I'm relatively satisfied with how things panned out at The Quicksilver.

There are actually a few road races on the calendar in the not too distant future. Hopefully JB can help me train up for some good results at the discipline that better suits my abilities.

More speed for 2008

On the heels of my earlier post...looks like they'll just keep making the cars faster and faster. My 150hp engine always seems to get me where I need to go...on time. Do we really more cars with 300+ hp engines???

Speed

Driving scares the crap out of me. This past Sunday, I drove to and from Camden Yards. On the Beltway, I was sitting pretty at about 70 mph. I was still driving above the speed limit. The way cars around me passed so quickly, it seemed like I was practically sittin' still. They had to be clocking upwards of 85 and 90 mph.

And then shit like this happens. It's a tragic, terrible thing. I can't, however, help but dwell on the final sentence of the article...

'The accident "illustrates the problem we have with speed and what can happen in an instant," High said.'

This isn't to say any of the resulting damage wouldn't have happened at slower speeds, but I think lots of folks don't register how bad it all can get at 85+ mph.

I say, "Slow down!" It's true on the highway and it's true on side streets.

Three weeks of silence

Not nearly as long as Bjarne Riis's fourteen years of silence.

I don't have time to go on endlessly about the sh*t going down in the pro ranks right now. Needless to say, it's a meaningful change from the years and years of secrets and lies and crime.

On the one hand, it's hard to watch my most favorite sport's most elite players cop to such disgraceful behavior. I'm not one to see the courage of fessing up. Plenty of commentators expressed pride in Millar when he came out with it. Don't forget, he came out with it all after they found the goods. It has also been said of others. I don't buy the courage bit. I am, though, a bit proud that cycling is owning up to its mistakes while so many other sports (bigger budget, bigger return American sports) continue to keep the wool pulled tightly over Americans' star-struck eyes. You gotta figure there's a seriously dark underbelly to pro football and baseball and basketball. I don't expect stars of those sports to magically and suddenly see the light. Too much cay-shhh to lose. Point being, I think there's something slightly redeeming to cycling being the whipping boy...the sport to take the hard knocks while the others continue living the lies. Just like cyclists, eh? It a painful process...these confessions and admissions. But have you ever known a cyclist to shy away from pain?

And on to my personal pain.

I've been training very, very sporadically. I'm not impressed and am eager to get back on it. This week was a marked improvement, but still nothing to write home about. Still eagerly awaiting my chance at training with powah. I'm hoping to secure the PT within the month.

On the racing front, I think I've only managed Poolesville between Ephrata and now. What a disappointing race. I surprised myself last year and hung on for a decent finish. I expected, and was gunning for, better this year.

The race seemed slow. The gravel was more fun. And then I crashed. I was better off than most. I simply rode up and on to a pile of downed cyclists. Untangling bike and body took long enough for a gap to form to the leaders. I chased like a dog and never re-gained contact. My cheering section (thanks Drew and Sonja and Evan) encouraged me to finish the last lap. I'm glad I did. I'd post photos of my blood-splattered shoes and legs, but the home computer is broken. So I finished, but all by my lonesome. Better luck next year, eh?

The personal pain also includes the aforementioned computer problems. The screen on the laptop is shot, so I can't post to the blog, can't download the Max Blob's photos, and can't update my training log. And so life comes to a grinding halt, right?

Long weekend on tap. Looking forward to having mom and Dale in town. Can't wait to show 'em the new digs, take in an Orioles game, gorge myself at Komi, walk the trail near our place, and maybe even fit in a training ride or two. No Kelly Cup for me. And no CSC for us amateurs. I think I've got a few crits lined up in the next month. It'd be great to actually race one of those with some confidence and certainty.

There's more to tell, but there's also work to do, right?

Tour d' Ephr-notta lot to report

Five days removed, there's not much memorable about this year's TdE.

Road Race: Spent the morning watching the ambulances come and go. Lined up for the Cat. 4 race in good position in the staging area. Waiting for the medics to clean up the mayhem from the women's race, I decided to take one last potty break. Of course, the officials opened the staging area flood gates while I was takin' a wicked pissah. I exited the john to find my ever-so-loyal (for how much longer after my brilliant bathroom break move?) teammate, Dave Kemp, still holding my bike upright and waiting for me. We ended up at the back of the group at the official start/finish line. I felt terrible for Dave. That's about as exciting as things got.

Never really worked my way up to the front on the narrow roads. Avoided three crashes out on the course. Hung back for the sprint and watched plenty of guys shoulder each other off the road and generally make a mess of things. Rolled in for an impressive 40th!

TT: Windy. I did worse this year than I did last. Naaahce. Ahh liihke. I did not make any sort of sexy time. Got to the top of the climb in 27:47...good enough for 27th.

Crit: One word for you: shelled. I was not too happy with myself. Still can't claim to be much of a crit rider. Evan reported, however, that, once off the back of the peleton, I appeared to be traveling at about the same speed (read: pretty fast). One thing that kept me in it...the guys hanging out just around corner two and, every time I dragged my tired ass up the short incline there, totally cheering for me 'cause they misunderstood my grimace for a sh*t-eating grin. I guess I was rockin' it Horner style and they loved it. Sometimes it's the little things, eh?

Two other good things that came out of the crit:

1. I got plenty of practice cornering at speed...alone.
2. The crit turned out to be, more or less, a LT test for me.

Overall, I can't say I was happy with any results. Maybe three days off the bike last week wasn't such a good idea.

Hoping for better this Saturday at Poolesville.

Dolan out the hurt!

No 'net at home these days. Infuriating, but still not resolved. Meantime, I'll drop this quick report during my lunch break.

Carl Dolan was lots of fun. After my lackluster showing at one of the Tradezone races, I wondered how well I'd do on a shorter, faster, circuit race. I'm content with how things went. Also, I think it's a good sign I can isolate what might've accounted for my middling results.

The race seemed fast enough to me. As others posted, I agree there was way too much unnecessary slowing at completely random spots on the road, but we did cover our 25.2 miles in exactly 59 minutes.

Had quite a few teammates at this race. They seemed to do well latching onto each others' wheels. I have to say, I favored the right side of the road for most of the race and wasn't very quick to jump in line with our guys on the left side of the road. No matter. The meat of my story really comes from the lone aggressive move I pulled all day and the final kilometer of the race.

My aggressive move was pretty laughable. Lap 3 was a prime lap. I didn't win it. I did, however, launch a hilarious and pointless attack after two guys already tore away from the field for the prime. Here are two shots (shot 1 and shot 2) of me blazing up the right side of the finishing climb. As I rode by nearly all the field, I heard some amusing "What the?"s and "Oh my god!"s and "Woah!"s. I don't suspect anyone was impressed or worried. Mostly, I suspect they were amused and confused. Why the eff did I bother? Well, I kinda just wanted to see how fast I could get up that hill. Further, it did get and keep me at the front of the field (where I wanted to be for the last lap or two) after they swallowed me up.

The kicker about that move, though, is what could've come of it. As I crested the hill and crossed the line, I saw two guys about 50 meters up the road. They looked like they were kinda taking it easy. First thought: I think we're lapping these guys. Second though: naw, that can't be. Third thought: I could ask, but that might be pretty insulting if they're not being lapped. Current thought: maybe they were being lapped and maybe I actually won the prime.

When I caught those guys, no one (including yours truly) made a move to organize and try to stay away from the field. I looked over my shoulder and we easily had 200 meters on the field. Thinking back, I should've continued to drill it and tried to stay away all by my lonesome. Who knows? Maybe it would've stuck.

Anyhow...getting to the finish. Strategy on this one was pretty simple. I had to make sure I was within the top 25 coming out of the turn with 1km to go. I was. Good news. Further, I wanted to use the right lane (which only opened up with about 250m(?) to go) for my sprint. I talked to Dave Kemp about this and he was eager to help me out. I'm just getting used to the team thing, but it's nice to have those sorts of talks with 'mates. I think my strategy was a smart idea, but there was one hiccup in the way. The enitre lead out train and strung out peleton headed to the left side of the road after the turn. Worried that I might get caught way far from the lane I wanted to take for the sprint, I opted to sit out on my own in the wind for the final 500 meters. I chose my plan over protection from the wind. Dumb move. Sitting in the wind let the front 20 ride away from me. Sticking right did keep me out of the final crash, but limited me to 9th in the Cat. 4 group. I also suffered from an All-American guy's move right across my line with about 150 to go. I was spinning the right gear, but had to slam on the brakes to avoid this dude. That slowed the momentum and I was subsequently over geared when I tried to start up again. And so it goes.

Post-race, Kemp did tell me he had all intentions of being there for the lead-out. Once again, very cool to know. He made me laugh when he described how the plan fell a bit flat. He said he was on my wheel coming into the turn. He hoped to come around me so I could latch on. In the end, though, he said I came flying out of that turn at high speed and accelerated away. Oops! It would've been fun to see how well we could've worked together. Next time, eh?

Other lessons from the race...position on the new bike is not yet dialed. I suffered terribly numb feet (left side was worst) and some really odd muscle pain in my extreme upper hammy on the right side. Hopefully this will all work itself out with continued tweaking. Final lesson acknowledged (but I'll probably never truly 'learn' it)...wear friggin' sunblock!!

Kidding? I think not!

I'd love to hear that this guy is writing with his tongue fully inserted into his cheek. Unfortunately, I think he's dead (and that's how some unsuspecting cyclist or motorist will end up with assholes like this behind the wheel of their 'hulking SUVs') serious. This kinda talk gets under my skin, but I can't let it eat at me. Nothing I can do will change this moron's mind.

http://www.csbj.com/story.cfm?ID=10469

I'm not the only one

Scanning the mid-Atlantic cycling blog-o-sphere, it seems I'm not the only one who is sick as a dog right now. Here are a few guys suffering in the same sorta way:

http://thewrob.blogspot.com/2007/04/snot-rocket-big-drop.html

http://fatmarc.blogspot.com/2007/04/episode-121-flat-on-my-back.html

I seem to remember coming across more, but that's all I can find for now.

Despite my hacking and phlegm, the hope is to pick back up after two days of full-on rest. If this rain stops, I'll be back out there for about two hours this afternoon.

Should be somewhere else

10AM. Sunday, April 1st. I shouldn't be at my desk in front of this computer. I should be warming up at Tyson's. But sometimes...the stars don't really align. It's misting outside, I was up until 1:30AM and woke up restless at 5:45AM, I had a touch too much vino last night, and my throat feels like it's starting to close up on me. All excuses. But, shit, I just don't feel up to it. And so I'm here, feeling warm, a little foggy-brained, and heavy-legged.

Yesterday, I had a blast at the Tour of Walkersville.

Before I go there, let's travel back in time to last Sunday. I did Jeff. Cup. That was also a blast. Great roads and beautiful country. It was warm, I cramped up with about four miles to go, and that was about all she wrote. No breaks stuck. We came down to a field sprint finish and I just wasn't positioned right. Oh well. Finished with the pack. The race, though, was a big psychological success. I hadn't raced on the road since I crashed at Coppi last season. I had to overcome some mental blocks to get back out there at speed with the group.

Walkersville turned out much better than Jeff. Cup. With some advice from my ever-wise teammate, Josh, I started the race knowing where I needed to be on the last lap if I expected to even be a contendah.

Long story short...I stayed up front coming out of the final turn. There was some definite slowing approaching the final 500 meters. Coming up on about 350 to go, there was a lot of unnecessary shouting from some of the guys who wanted the front of the race to move faster. The speed ramped up and just off to my right, poor Pete Custer got tied up in a pretty bad crash. I heard it and saw it and then saw a huge Ridley, without its rider attached, flying through the air...about six feet off the ground. I watched the bike fall to the earth and knew I needed to swerve a bit left to avoid running into it. Thankfully, there was room to my left and I avoided certain disaster.

With that unfortunate crash came some wide open space on the righthand side of the road. I looked ahead and saw about five guys up the road, each with a few feet between 'em. There were probably about 100 meters to go at that point and I was picking up speed. I was pretty surprised that I was able to pick 'em off...one by one. This move, however, was none so subtle. After feeling Pete's crash, I didn't want to see or be part of another. For that reason, I announced my entire sprint to any and all who were ahead of me. As I motored down the right side, I shouted the whole way, "Coming on your right. On your right. Watch your right." Not exactly stealth tactics.

In the end, Joel (Route 1) came up on my left and almost caught me at the line. I threw the bike and I think that made the difference. At first, I assumed he was one of the guys I passed as I was closing in on the line. I assumed one of those guys was able to latch on as I came past and then follow me to the line. Joel later explained he was latched onto my wheel the whole time I moved up the right side. Go figure. I had no idea he was there. Thankfully, though, I had what it took to fend him off this time.

As much as I'd like to see what I could put together for two days in a row, I think my health will probably benefit from skipping out on Tyson's. I can't say I'm thrilled with my decision, but I think it's the right one. On top of it all, SVR leaves for Paris again tonight and I'd like to spend some good time with her before her trip.

I'd be remiss not to mention last night's meal. Citronelle was not as good as the first time I went. It was, however, decadent and a special meal. I know Drew had a great time. It's hard to believe I've been such close friends with him for twelve years! Amazing.

Not what I like to read...

Let's see. I probably ride this exact intersection at least 100 times each year. Who the heck knows what happened, but this sorta thing gets me thinking.

http://www.nbc4.com/news/11403375/detail.html#

I was out on the roads this morning and had at least six close calls. Why does it have to be this hard...this stressful?

2 Amys Buzz!

You heard it here first...2 Amys is expanding!

We were there last night and saw a 'Change of Operations' notice posted in the front window. It mentioned expansion to a second level. I talked to our waitress and found out some details.

The owners bought space upstairs. The plan is to shift the first floor bar to the new upstairs space. The downstairs bar space will become expanded seating. Upstairs, there'll be a new bar and additional seating. Our waitress noted the upstairs should be more mellow and quiet and spacious. Most importantly, in my mind, the upstairs is slated to be adults only!! No shrieking children allowed. For some of us, that's a relief. The approximate seating gain is 30...from 90 seats to 120 seats. They expect to open the space in three months, but our waitress said construction hasn't started and the timeline seems too ambitious. I tend to agree with that assessment.

Anyhow...maybe it'll be a little easier to get a table after they expand.

C.(ulinary) S.(cene) I.(nvestigation): Palena (Course 2)

SVR-Yukon Gold Potato Gnocchi (With a Bolognese style meat sauce and shaved pecorino cheese)

JFW-Braised Beef Shortribs, "Sauerbraten" (With glazed root vegetables, quince, and chestnuts)

SVR had the famed gnocchi. I have to say, they fell a little short. The gnocchi were a little too, er, pasty. That's what my notes say, but I can't quite remember more of how to describe the texture and or effect. The Bolognese was chunky and not a ragu. Dunno if that's Ruta's twist on the sauce or if chunky is the authentic approach. In any case, the meat was on a small dice and was okay. The tomato flavor was prominent and pronounced and fresh and deep. The dish was fine, but I don't think it stood up to all the rave reviews I've read elsewhere.

I had high expectations of my second course. The 'sauer' was very, very sour. Again, I think this was the chef showing off his in-house meat curing mastery. Unlike Central's perfect, boneless short rib execution, Palena left the bone in and, not surprisingly, I felt cheated of meat. The bone was just too prominent and so the meat came across tiny. The root vegetables were a welcomed winter touch and the quince paste was cloyingly sweet, but the right flavor to temper some of the 'sauer.' The chestnuts were mashed and added a nice feel and texture to the arrangement.

C.(ulinary) S.(cene) I.(nvestigation): Palena (Course 1)

SVR-Pennsylvania Raised Rabbit (Boneless saddle stuffed with herbs and hazlenuts with mostarda di frutta, pickled beets, and mustard glazed endive.)

JFW-Juniper Scented Chicken Consomme (With poached quail egg, truffled trofiette pasta, veal tongue, and slivers of foie gras. With some tender vegetables as garnish.)

The rabbit rocked. I hate dry, white rabbit. I guess the saddle is a darker cut and it was tender and adequately fatty and rich. All condiments were nice pairings, though the beets (I believe) were a bit too sweet. The other flavors couldn't quite stand up to the sugar. The mustard was perfectly pungent. Overall...a well-executed and decadent starter.

My consomme was surprisingly good. As expected, the liquid was a pale and transparent yellow. Thin in viscosity, the flavor and density was still extraordinarily rich. It's incredible how a liquid can pack such depth of flavor. All add-ins were also of distinct flavor and texture. The trofiette was almost like spaetzle. The slivers of foie gras were amazing. In most of my foie gras experience, it's seared. Good as that can be, with a nice crust on the outside yielding a near molten center, this duck liver was more lively and complex. It seemed to be less of meat and more of earth. The texture was beautifully silken and it seemed like it had gone through a poaching process in the consomme. There were some sweet overtones and I could've easily downed a few more 'slivers.' The veal tongue was also very special. Taking after the Jews in my family who love(d) schmaltz and marrow and liver and beef tongue, I was by no means afraid of the chunks of pink baby cow tongue floating around in my soup. Believe it or not, the tongue was light. It was spongey, but airy. It was fluffy, but still rich. It was kinda like the best piece of pastrami you can imagine. It was obviously house-cured. It was tangy and also, like the broth and the liver, adequately rich. The vegetables were all nice enough and a nice counterpoint to the rich meats. The quail egg was also a nice touch...as breaking the yolk added further depth to the broth.

Long overdue

A long overdue update. For starters, I've got some time to sit down at the 'puter because riding is out of the question right now. Here's a glimpse of the outside.

Not safe to be out on the roads right now. And as of 3PM, I've still not dragged my ass onto the trainer. Doesn't look promising for me.

Yesterday, I hit Skyline for an early season climbing expedition. Went out there with some new partners...Dave Crouse and Kyle Murphy. Rode a bunch with Kyle this 'cross season, but had never hit the roads with him. I was in good company yesterday and we made a pretty mellow day of it. Ride time was 4:15 and we put in about 64 miles. That rate of speed is, obviously, nothing to write home about, but I think the climbing didn't hurt my fitness, no matter how long it took.

Moving on...had two quality meals on the homefront last week. Tuesday, I did up some trout. Was hoping for more success on the grill pan, but the trout didn't hold up so well to the technique. Still came out tasty, paired with mashed butternut squash, some jasmine rice, and an awesome salad of fresh horseradish, radishes, spinach, cider vinegar, and olive oil. Check it...

The next evening, I put the grill pan to better use and hooked it up with some nice NY strip steak (I think that was the cut). Cooked 'em to just the right temp. Re-used some of the squash and also served a few Yukon Golds. Those things are dope...so buttery and rich and sweet.

The highlight meal of the past few weeks, however, was mos' def' the Palena blowout. It went down a few weeks ago at this point, so let's see if I can still muster some impressions and details.

On the numbers front, SVR opted for the four course option and I went with five. In the end, SVR left a little of each of her courses, so I probably came home with seven courses in my belly!

Turns out, I'm gonna divide this report into several parts. Check back for the installments.

Meantime, I can't tell you why the hell I have such a hard time formatting these posts to include photos.

Another weekend of gastronomic gusto

Just secured reservations at Palena for this Friday. It fell out of favor for me a while back, as the cafe section is perpetually jam-packed. Seems like, even as a local who tries to go at odd hours on odd days, the wait is always way too long. Further, the cafe options don't quite seem worth it these days. I'm sure the roast chicken is still better than most things in this world, but I'm past the wait.

I should mention I once splurged and, whilst seated in the cafe, went full bore and ordered a fixed price meal...like, the real deal for which Ruta is held in such high regard. Still, though, I've never made the reservation for the main dining room. I've never shown up anticipating the proper menu. Friday, though, I will. I hope to offer a useful report.

Saturday's meal might not register as high on the *bling*-o-meter, but I've always had wonderful food at Montmartre. It's on tap Saturday night.

I'm looking at nearly six hours on the bike for the weekend, so I should be able to order duck and pork belly and creme brulee and other fatty stuff without too many cares in the world.

Rampage

Also...I haven't ridden this many consecutive days in, well, maybe...years. I'm on day eight and working towards ten. Two to go and then I get a well-deserved rest day. Further, the past six days have all been indoors...on the bloody trainer. I keep telling myself it should all pay dividends down the road. Like JB mentioned a few weeks ago, hopefully this is TSTWKT. If it doesn't, it still hurt real bad, like. And that's good, right?

Anyhow, I'm excited for two days out of doors.

I want to improve, I want to go fast, and I'd like to win. Rookie as it was, the win at Race Pace was really memorable. I'd like to ride off the front again and I'd like to hold out for the W. Maybe...just maybe.

Gym Rats

Last week, I pondered an entire entry about the cast of characters I've observed in the gym over the past few months. I was gonna do multiple character sketches in one big entry. It seemed an overwhelming task, so I think I'll just keep it short and sweet and profile a new personality every few days or weeks.

My first installment is devoted to The Readers. You've probably seen 'em before at the gym. These are the people that work out and read. I don't think there's just one thing that drives The Readers to exercise and read simultaneously. I think different Readers take the risk for different reasons.

I imagine some fancy themselves way too important to devote a half hour+ to one non-intellectual activity. Too smart, too important, and too overloaded to focus on the exercise, they've gotta multi-task and fit in some catch-up reading during their time on the treadmill or stationary bike. There's simply NO EXTRA TIME in their day to devote to something silly like exercising the body separate from the mind. How could they? They're just THAT important.

I imagine others are simply too bored with their time on these mind-numbing exercise machines to NOT distract themselves with a little reading. They've got other options like iPods, TVs, or other folks in the gym to grab their attention, but I guess it's like they say, "You can take the worm out of the book, but you can't take the book out of the worm!" Wait, do they say that? Anyhow, I kinda can't blame these folks for requiring some distraction, as the machines at the gym, and particularly the way these folks use them, are about as thrilling as watching paint dry.

So you've got the type-A multi-taskers and the gym zombies...each reading for their own reasons.

Here's what gets me. How the f*ck are you getting much of a workout in if you're focused on a book or a magazine or the newspaper? I've noticed these readers are the same people who can spend an hour in the gym and walk away as dry as they were when they came in from the 30 degree winter weather. This is hard for me to stomach. My heart rate hovers in the 160+ range for upwards of thirty minutes for every hour I spend on the trainer and I probably sweat about 4 litres of liquid each time I visit the gym. I'm always dumbfounded by these people who can finish a few chapters of the latest Tom Clancy novel whilst "working out" and don't sweat a drop after 45 minutes on the stationary bike.

Anyhow....this rant is barely coming together. Point being, what the hell are you doing reading in the gym? Either commit to getting a workout in or stay at home in your bed or on your couch curled up with your novel or whatever.

Last week, I saw some dummy waltz in on a Tuesday with the entire Sunday Post. I watched her navigate onto the elliptical (otherwise known as the epilyptical) machine with the every section of the paper...including the plastic-wrapped coupons and comics section. I couldn't believe my eyes. Was this idiot really gonna try to make it through the Sunday paper all the while grinding out the miles on the epilyptical? I watched her nearly bite it three or four times. She was never discouraged and never appeared to think twice about her arrangement. I ran through the exchange she might have with the EMTs. "I dunno what happened. There I was, reading the engagements and weddings in the Style section when, BLAM, I rolled a cankle!" If only.

In closing, pick an activity and stick with it you morons!!

Next time...coke head freaks.

Who needs Restaurant Week?

I could describe what I had at 21P Saturday night, but there's only so much time. Instead, here's a shot of dinner at home tonight. How can you beat salmon with lime butter emulsion, potato and green onion cakes, and simply steamed broccoli?

Not quite resolved

Didn't settle on any resolutions for the new year. More frequent posting might be something worth aspiring to, but I don't see it happening.

Food front...I could start with Restaurant Week highlights, but it's almost like meals at home have trumped eating out at this point. I owe some of the recent home cooked magic to a grill pan we got from one of SVR's friends this holiday season. Shit's da bomb! It has yielded great poultry...a seared duck breast (my first go at duck) that hit the spot, chicken breast for a simple sandwich with Alex's famous easy aioli and some thick tomato slices, and another chicken breast marinated in a southwestern mix (rich with brown sugar, chili powder, cumin, etc.) from The New Best Recipe cookbook. Also a present from friends, that book is an awesome go to reference for technique and prep methods. Can't say the recipes are all that cutting edge or adventurous, but the searing, steaming, braising, baking, etc. methodologies pretty much always yield near perfect results. Screw going out for scallops or shrimp anymore. Cook 'em per The New Best Recipe and it'll seem silly to pay top dollar for those goods out on the town.

I shouldn't ignore our one RW meal this week. Nage was full-on solid. For the RW price, $30.07, I was very happy. I noticed that their standard prices hover around $26 for mains. At that price point, I think I'd opt for something else.

Had a mushroom and cheese tart sorta thing to start. The bulky part of the dish (the tart) was a little puny. Good flavors, but simply not enough quantity. It sat in a truffle infused sauce/soup. Servers were good to bring spoons for that dish, as the sauce was very rich with truffle essence/oil. I would've hated not being able to scoop all the liquid. What an incredible flavor. Haven't had satisfying truffle flavor since minibar, when I barely ate truffle. The trick they pull there is spraying the oil on a napkin and expecting you to smell the napkin as you eat some beef (tenderloin?). Sense of smell and taste collided for some very cool sensations and flavors. I know it sounds schticky, but it really worked. Anyhow, tasting the truffle at Nage took me back!

My main was braised shortrib. This item is so popular right now and I've had the entire range of great to pretty crappy. This version fell smack in the middle. I find that an order of shortribs often yields a lot of bone and little meat. I think kitchens suffer from their preparations that leave the meat falling off the bone. Half the time, I think the shortrib meat must end up in the bottom of a stock pot or third pan and I end up with the inedible bone. Nage didn't serve a plate of bones, but their version was not as fatty or juicy as I've had before. Shortrib is a decadent dish (and a cheap cut of meat for those restaurants!!) and I expect a certain richness that Nage's lacked. The bed of polenta with cherries was creamy and just the right amount of tart and sweet. Nice work.

Dessert was a good enough fruit crumble sorta thing. The twist was in the ice cream. They served a blue cheese ice cream that I thought was a nice complement. I think the non-ice cream flavor flavor thing is a fad that's falling out of favor, but sometimes the flavors can work. I'd rate this creation a solid 7.

I think the group collaborated well to choose wines. A bottle of red and a bottle of white meant everyone could pair as they needed. Gals had fish and the white was probably right for them. Anyhow, I'd certainly recommend Nage, but for a non-RW night, the tab might be too high for my liking.

Tonight we're off to 21P with James and Ruth. Menu looks complete, but the only RW review I read was not complimentary. We'll hope for better.

On the cycling front, it's winter. I took plenty of time away from the bike after Nats. I don't think I was invested in my rest, as I was always kinda beating myself up for not riding after getting back from San Francisco. Anyhow...I've done a few trainer sessions lately and am trying to get out each weekend day.

Today I hit the road with Eric for some early, wet miles. Ninny that I am, I wasn't willing to ride the bike with all the moving parts. It's probably most idiotic to ride the fixie in wet conditions, but that's how I do it. Wet roads mean the geared bikes stay under cover. Anyhow, we were out for about 2:15 and it felt just right. I probably spent a little too much time at LT instead of at tempo, but what can you do, right? TBT, I found it quite easy to peg an HR range and stick to it on the fixie. I'm pretty steady on that thing and less inclined (or able???) to react to terrain changes. When the road turns upward (slightly), I pretty much slow down and slow cadence and hold the HR steady. I don't attack the way I might on the geared machines. Anyhow...I was glad to get out with Eric. We chatted the whole time and caught up on the past few months. The roads were wet the whole time. Now the sun is more or less out and the roads look dry as a bone. No matter.

That's all I've got for now. I've neglected a few important topics (Nationals, the trip out west, and NYE), but I can only manage so much this sitting.

RW--Winter 2007

Tomorrow night...Nage.

Saturday night...21P.

Quite an impressive post, eh?

Munchkins!!

Though we had some AWESOME donut holes at Nopa this weekend, this ain't no food review. I'm talkin' muchkins of a different breed. SVR and I hung with these maddeningly cute little ones over the holiday weekend.

National Level Disappointment

Back from RI with a quick stop in DC before heading off to CA. There's really not enough time for a full report. For once, though, I think the memories are burned deeply enough in my mind for me not to forget things before I have a legit chance to draft a report.

Here's a photo that kinda sums up how things went.

In case you can't tell, there's a pretty huge gap between the Third Eye chain protector and the chain ring. There's definitely enough room for the chain to jump right off during the bumpy sections. Sure enough, that's what happened...FOUR times.


Maybe that photo makes it a little clearer.

Of course, my flat tire within the first 500 meters didn't help matters. In the end, the course couldn't have been better suited to my riding style and strengths. I never had the chance to show what I got. Anyhow...more later.

Little Rhode-y!!!

Off to 'cross Nationals. Be back Monday.

Restin' after Reston

Last we spoke, I showed evidence of the pre-Reston festivities. Well, turns out Matt wasn't lying about improved performance after a few too many. Apparently the same holds true for Ellicott. They flew at Reston. I kinda bumped along turbulently.

Reston was the last MAC series race. It was where, three or four years ago (where has the time gone?), I first watched a 'cross race. It looked fun and crazy as hell back then and just watching made me wanna get out there and do it (my mom just told me the same thing after I sent her Alex's photo album from the race...I'm all for it, ma)! The venue is great and the weather, in past years, has always been bright and sunny. I was glad to be there to ride the thing this year and not just spectate. Left the spectating to a worthy crew...K, the A-man, and SVR were out in full force.

The race was my first foray into the Killah B class. To clarify, I raced Bs down in Richmond, but I think all would agree that it just ain't the same down there. The MAC races are stacked and I'm sure plenty of the guys in our field shoulda been up with the Elites, but didn't wanna throw down for a UCI license. No matter.

Race started kinda oddly. After call-ups, we were all penned up in our rows and fatmarc was crackin' jokes and people were laughing and guys were leaning on their top tubes and...bam! Someboday blew a whistle. Was it the 'go' sign? Weren't we supposed to get some sorta intro from the race official? Apparently not. After a few seconds of further confusion, we were all on our way. Of course, almost immediately, I was nearly off the back. Trouble engaging with the pedal and shock of the unexpected whistle (oh yeah, and my OCD personality that had me reaching for my HRM when I should've been sprinting off the line) took their toll.

I pre-rode the course once and thought I found a few decent lines through some of the technical shit. Of course, those perfect lines all get shot to pure hell when you're racing shoulder to shoulder and your lines aren't your own choice. That's how it was for a bit. Eventually, we strung out a bit. The first lap is a bit of a blur at this point, but I know I made up some ground on some of the power sections. The double log crossing was a pisser and my remounts were, as usual, nothing to write home (or on this blog) about. Made it down the steepest and sketchiest decent without incident the first time around...amidst a small group. Phew. Next lap, though, didn't treat me so right. On that 180 transition from clay to pavement (off-camber, no less), I took the inside line (which I did for another three laps and only figured not to do on the final lap!!) and slid out. Pisser. I hit the deck and was nearly run over by the fellers behind. I picked the bike up and went to re-mount on the paved section. Chain was off the front ring...despite the guard ring and Third Eye inner guide. Took a few seconds to put it back on, but that was long enough for about eight guys to come zipping past me.

My worst enemy is the crash. It takes the spirit outta me. I ride tentatively after each one. I tense up during the technical sections. I worry about the damage to the bike. All these things are distractions that lead to poor performance. It's no excuse, but it's the truth...for now.

In typical form, the bike again shifted like total poop. When I finally figured out how to ride the shortest and steepest and loosest run-up hill (put it in a smaller cog to get some grab outta the tires instead of spinning the easiest gear at a high rpm), the chain would kinda bounce around on the cogset...bucking, jumping, jolting, picking and choosing wherever it wanted to be.

I spent the last two laps battling some chasers and finished with a friendly fellow from Mass. In the end, I didn't post a great finishing spot. 35th out of 50-ish isn't so hot. The upside is that I didn't feel so, so, so terrible. When I wasn't worrying about my crash and riding tentatively for it, I was going well and going strong. I'm sure I've made some fitness gains in recent weeks (thanks, Josef), so there's that. I know I'm not gonna fare well when I don't practice 'cross skills during the week. Re-mounting and taking 15 seconds to find the pedals is no way to stay in contention with the Killah Bs.

For Nationals, I'll hope for magnetic pedals, a bike that shifts effortlessly, and no crashies, no crashies.

I'm sure I typed at least a thousand, so I guess the photos could've taken their place. Go Evan, Matt, and Kyle. And me.

Pre-Race Prep

Well, I spent the past 25 minutes trying to figure out what I did to my dig-cam and fearing I ruined the camera for life. Turns out, the thing wasn't actually plugged into the USB port. I plugged into some other slot. Got dam.

Anyow, here's how you prep for a big MAC 'cross race. Get a coupla Irish dudes and a Polish-Jew together for a few brews. Best o' luck, fellers.

Well...the whole photo thing isn't really working out (wassup blogger?), but suffice it to say...I've got a photo of the damage done. And, yes, it was mostly Belgian brew. 7.9% minimum.

I finish typing that last sentence and the friggin' photo shows up. Anyhow, there you go. G'night.

Don't expect much more of this...

It's all 'B' races for me from here on out. Soooooo...don't expect too much more of this anytime soon.

MABRA Champs

Well, the bike came together in time for MABRA champs. Turns out, the problem was INSANELY simple and the solution even simpler. Pinks, in typical fashion, tried to do me right when he built the thing up. He routed the rear derailleur cable with metal ferrules at the intermediate cable housing. In the end, that generous attempt to keep the bike looking and performing best was more harmful than good-ful. Something about the metal was obstructing the cable pull and I was getting poor shifting in the rear. After swapping the metal out for the cheap-o plastic, all was buttery smooth and crisp. Sometimes it's the littlest, seemingly insignificant, things that make all the difference.

With the repair complete yesterday afternoon, it was time to get my mind set for today's race. Unfortunately, I never really came around psychologically. Set out solo early this morning. Matt had to opt out today 'cause of his holiday travels. Evan, BMOC, decided to step it up and race with the 'A's (right where that sandbagging b@stard belongs!!). In the end, I was home and enjoying a ham, egg, and cheese sand-o with SVR before the gun fired for the 'A's. It only makes sense to carpool to these things, so I guess I better step up to the 'B's...stat!!

I've said it before, and I really mean it. I don't like to have to criticize the promoters and organizers, but things were pretty chaotic with registration, set-up, etc. Let's just say, at the start line, we all had to strip down to our base layers to switch numbers from right to left. Get it right from the get-go folks!! Also, some ass clown parked on the course. I noticed this during my pre-ride and pointed it out to officials. They had to re-route the course and the start was delayed for it. This yielded an abbreviated 'C' race and that was another pisser. A 32-minute race is an absolute joke...even for the lowly 'C' riders. Anyhow...down to the racin'.

Today's trend was me not being able to find my pedals. Can't explain it. At the gun, it took me a full 15 seconds to clip in. Inexcusable. The entire field had already rounded the initial 180-degree turn before I was even up to speed. I had the same problem after remounting two other times during the race. Hard to say I lost the race 'cause of it, but that kinda shit is bound to matter when I start mixing it up the Killah Bs. Battled some of the regulars for a lap or two. The only technical sections of the course involved some nasty mud. It wreaked a little havoc with the drivetrain and was just kinda mucky and annoying. I never managed to pedal the one run-up and that was another disappointment. As usual, I'm not sure where or how I made up my ground. I guess there were some flat, power sections in the first quarter of the course. I can never figure out why guys don't take advantage of those sections, but I powered past a crap load of guys on those straight-aways. Also, as usual, the mixed fields made it really tough to figure where I was in the mix. After scooting past at least half the field during the first half of the first lap, I caught a glimpse of two guys up the 'road.' I eventually bridged to a pair (a young kid who I've seen working at Revolution and who rides for NCVC) ahead and didn't spend too much time with them. I accelerated past them. Eventually, a regular who rides for Joe's in B'more (pink jersey) paired up with the kid and they worked hard to reel me in. Never happened. At the same time, I had no friggin' clue where I sat going into the last two laps. I suspected I was sitting second, but had no idea who I had lapped and who I was about to lap. I rode my own race for a few laps and just kept the power to the pedals to ensure I wouldn't get passed. I rolled across solo and probably lost by about twenty seconds.

I'm glad to report I never really felt too taxed today. Talk to me next week after a MAC 'B' race (Reston). I suspect I'll report, 'I really felt too taxed today.'

Word from the road is Evan took 5th in the 'A's. Excellent. Maybe he'll win Nationals.

Time to wrap it up and head up to E&K's. We gotta get to planning B07. The time is now. The trip will rule! Oh, and we're gonna eat.

Still innocent?

Here's a Tyler Hamilton quote I saw on cyclingnews.com:

"I made a mistake and the price that I had to pay was very high," said Hamilton.

Seems like a very, very incriminating self-reflection. I think that citation really speaks for itself.

Southern 'Cross

I love when blog entry titles just come to me in a flash. As Arnold would say, "Dats a guud wun.

Anyhow, KD's photos are now posted and I thought I'd throw a couple up and offer a brief report. In a word, the race was mud. 'B' field was pretty small...probably somewhere in the 18-22 range. Matt, Kyle, and I all came to repreezent DC. The drive up was a little freaky, with the gas gauge on the Golf pooping out. We were driving along, chatting merrily, and I noticed the gas meter just plunge to the 'E.' "Strange," I thought. "I just filled the tank 8 hours ago." The things busted and I'll have to bring it in for a look over and an oil change.

The setting in Richmond was nice. The Park was sizeable and the soccer fields were packed. I wasn't expecting much from the legs, as I'm on a training regimen that has been kicking my ass...royally. The course was a good mix of technical, paved, and power. The technical sections were pretty close to off-road single track. I have to pat myself on the back for handling those, for the most part, smoother than I might've expected. Mixed in with the manageable single track, there were several sections of deep, gunky, sticky, muddy mud. This stuff was the ruin of the race. It wreaked havoc on the mind, body, spirit, and equipment. Once again, my shifting went completely awry and mechanical pitfalls plagued the entire race. My bike performed like a nervous eight year-old girl at her first holiday dance recital. In the end, I battled all adversity (including the highest barriers I've ever seen, a bout of nauseau going into the woods on the las lap, pretty chilly conditions, and the mud [did I mention the mud?]) and sprinted hard against Matt for a 7th place finish.

Diagnosis of the bike's maladies later in the week yielded brake pads that were worn completely through as well as a rear shifter that plain doesn't work. MABRA champs are a day away and the bike still isn't working. I'd hate to miss the championships.

Lower Allen Classic

Raced in PA this past weekend. Worst performance and feeling so far this season. I'll file my major gripes quickly and move on to more positive notes. The course was NOT well suited to my riding style. No power sections. Not much climbing to speak of. Instead, LOTS of technical mumbo-jumbo. Lots of off-camber. Lots of sand and mulch. Not my cup o' tea. Good course for my cohorts, as Evan and Matt each logged second place finishes. Here's Evan at the finish. Someone has been working on their finish line celebration!!


Congrats to those fellers. In addition to the course conditions, the race organization pretty well sucked. I'm usually the guy to praise the organizers for putting on such a wonderful show. Can't say the same 'bout this one. For starters, the course was taped in an odd way. For me, it was extremely tough to follow the course. Beyond that, there wasn't a lap counter at the start/finish and the announcers never announced 'One lap to go.' All this added up to a piss-poor performance. I rolled across 11th out of 49. Blech. Further, Evan and Matt had to wait 3.5 hours to collect their winnings.

On the food front, we stopped at Friendly's on the way home. Holy crap!! What a dump. I've been pushing Evan to have a famous Fribble for over a year (since the trip to Philly two Junes ago). Believe it or not, he was too full after his 'entree' to wash it all down with a Fribble. I've never been so disappointed in my life!!! This Friendly's location smelled like cat urine. We gorged ourselves on fries and fried sandwiches. That's all I can stand to say about the experience.

On a more civilized note, Saturday night found me, SVR, D, and S at Bistrot du Coin. I'd been jonesing for the place for a while and, as usual, it didn't disappoint. Drew and I split mussels with cream and curry sauce, fries, creamed spinach, and escargot. We also each had a green salad. It was all top-notch. We hadn't ever tried the spinach. It was rich and creamy and spinach-y and comforting. I'll keep it on the top of the list for next time. All else was fatty and mmmm. Maybe D can send a photo of the bottle of wine we had. It was an excellent, excellent French wine.

Last night, SVR and I cooked up one heck of a number. We made butternut squash gnocchi from scratch. No photo evidence. Drizzled it with a butter and sage sauce. Ranks among the best at-home creations for us. We served it with a good spring greens (it's spring somewhere, right?) salad. On a more local note, the tomatoes were locally grown. For dessert...homemade banana bread. We used the recipe from the New Best Recipe cookbook. Served it up with some ice cream. I think E&K were content to be our guests last night.

And so we're up-to-date.

I hope to get some training guidance from Josef in the coming days. Gonna dive into a 'B' race this Sunday. From what I hear, the competition down 'round Richmond ain't as tough. We'll see about that.

Rushin'...no, Polish

Feel like I've been rushing around like mad since my last post. Meals and wheels, meals and wheels. That's what's up. It's time to wind down before another big race tomorrow, but I've gotta post before it all gets blown outta my head in a blaze of haze and snot at tomorrow's MAC race.

In a word, it's good to be back to racin', even if I'm not training. 'Cross is certainly my favorite race format/discipline. Jumped straight into last weekend on the new bike. Back-to-back race days. More complete race reports are definitely in order, but the short version is that I surprised myself...big time. Pulled a fourth at Tacchino and a 'w' at Race Pace. Sunday was nuts, with me off the front for five out of six laps. It's only 'C' level, local 'cross racing, but the announcer was having a grand ole time making it an interesting race. The mold in my car must be they key to success, as Evan also pulled of fantastic results. 1st on Saturday and a close 2nd on Sunday. Represent. Of course, it was awesome to have friends' support each day. Big ups to my dawgs...D, S, SVR, and Yames.

On the meal front. Monday saw me pull out all the stops. An after work trip to Whole Foods yielded wild Rockfish, raw beets, and new potatoes. I whipped up a glaze for the Rockfish with some butter, Sierra mustard, and maple syrup. Coated the fish and baked. Mmmm. Dove into roasted beets for the first time. Good times. Nothing like coming away from a cooking session seemingly blood stained, but without the pain of a knife wound. I coated the beets lightly in olive oil, salt, and pepper. Topped 'em with fried Vidalia ernyuns. More mmmm. The potatoes were my standard oven roasted version with rosemary. Did someone say mmmm?

Two 2 Amys trips this week. E&K forced me to branch out with the ordering strateejuhry. We did two pies, a panini, and suppli. Left effin' full as can be. I've said it too many times, but 2 Amys is a gem. Glad it's a neighborhood spot, but not so glad about the crowds.

Gotta call it quits. Less than seven hours sleep going into a race isn't really the way to go. I'm expected in TP at 6:50AM. Rise and shine is at 5:30AM. Whatta a strart to the weekend!! I hope to post some photos and more race details in short order. Hopefully I get good results 'morrow.

Still waiting...

I should be at the shop right now. I should be putting the finishing touches on the Redline. Instead, I'm propped up in bed writing this entry. Still no word from the Pink-man on the freehub body. I've got this awaiting him. From what I hear, it's the BEST.

In other news, I think it's official. I think Wilco has supplanted Built to Spill as my favorite band...for now. In the way that they are each pretty adaptable to different musical styles, they're similar bands. BTS is so versatile. They can bounce between metal, sugar pop, fuzz rock, emo, anthemic classic rock, art rock, alt-country, jam rock, etc. with absolute ease and perfection. Similarly, but not to the same extent, Wilco has floated between styles such as rock-a-billy, country pop, alt-country, art country (I think I just made up that style, as a quick check of allmusic.com's country genre page yields no 'art country' category), folk, rock, etc. I think the versatility I see in each is what impresses me so. Plus, each spits out some friggin' catchy, witty, smart, powerful, sophisticated music.

On the food front, we decided to stick at home last night. It was the right night for it, as it has been raining relentlessly since yesterday at 2PM. It's now 8:30AM on Saturday. I whipped up my famous, and famously simple, veggie lasagna. It's always a crowd pleaser and folks are always shocked to hear that I use cottage cheese in place of ricotta or other Italian-style cheese. The recipe came to me one night when I decided to piece something together with ingredients sitting around the house. In the end, I mixed the cottage cheese with chopped spinach, sauteed mushrooms, onions, and garlic, tomato sauce, and some spices M&D brought back from Italy. I spread the mixture between lasagna noodles. Sprinkled with some pecorino romano, that was it. Simply as hell and, like I said, a huge crowd pleaser. Evan, SVR, and I nearly polished off the whole pan last night. Good eatin'. I forgot to snap some photos. There'll be a next time.

Bebo = Blech-o

As promised, here's the follow-up re: Friday's dinner at Bebo.

I usually try to give places the benefit of the doubt, but this time I can't. To sum up, the dinner was easily the worst dining experience of my life. I think it would be too traumatic to recount the whole thing in minute detail.

We saw our server three times the whole evening. We waited about 25 minutes before he stopped in at our table for the first time. We ordered two glasses of wine. They never showed...even though we asked for them twice. My favorite part of the evening was when the waiter brought the check. He made a specific point of telling us, 'I had the manager take care of all the wine.' SVR and I were both very confused by the comment. 'All the wine' suggests we received part of the wine order. Not true. We got nuthin'. I was polite to the waiter all night, but couldn't help but ask him to clarify his point about excusing the wine from the check. He told us that he gladly had the manager remove the charge. No shit, right? Would it make more sense to leave the charge on the check...even though we never received the product? What a moron. I was sure to let him know that, despite his tone of voice that suggested otherwise, he wasn't doing any favors for us by removing the charge.

The funniest thing about the evening was how the terrible service left SVR and me with nothing else to talk about during dinner. It's not like, when we get great service at a restaurant, we spend the whole meal dwelling on how smoothly everything is going. On the other hand, the grossly inadequate service left us talking about it for the entire time we were at Bebo.

As for the food, it was pretty mediocre. I had chicken that was adequately flavorful...good herbs, good grill char, good citrus. It was pretty disappointing that the dish came with absolutely no accompaniment. SVR's meatballs were tasty, but very cold in places. The sides, some rapini and some sauteed potatoes, were below average. The rapini were way too bitter and had none of the promised garlic or red pepper flakes. The potatoes were a little too greasy and much closer to fried than sauteed.

The whole experience was god-awful, particularly considering how excellent the Osteria always was.

In other news...Granogue!! I went with Evan to watch the racing. It was pretty painful to watch without getting to do. Evan had a strong showing...fourth out of about 70 starters. The course looked like a blast. Lots of off-camber, some great descents, two run-ups that the many of the pros RODE, and an oddly placed barriers section. I set out to TP at 7AM and rode the Surly. The chain was super-loose and I actually threw the chain off the cog and chainring. Bad news. The beefy chain banged up the chainstay pretty nicely. Re-tensioned things at Evan's and we then hit the road.

Drive up was nice. Beautiful fall scenery the whole way and the time flew by. The atmosphere at the race was so perfect. The free beer was flowing as of about 10AM. Folks were generally friendly and it was pretty cool to rub shoulders with the pros. The crowd was sizeable and very enthusiastic. Here are a few shots of Todd Wells, Kabush, Wicks, and a few others at the sign-in tent.

I have a heck of a time formatting photos for this blog, so I'll leave it at that.

The pros were fast and Trebon pulled away for a significant gap and a win.

The drive home was full of traffic. Once back in DC, I hopped on the Surly again and popped into the Park for the ride home. It was amazing in the Park...dusky, quiet, serene, empty, and pleasantly cool.

Once home, it was a quick shower, some cleaning up at the apartment, and then back out to hook up with Drew, Steph, and Evan for some proper 'hall-pass' festivities. In the end, that amounted to a little too much beer, some rude jokes, and not much more. Dinner and drinks were at Fado. Good spot. Even better considering the manager is one of my junior high and high school friend's kid sister. It's always great to see her there and she usually extends a pretty good hook-up to me and the gang. She was generous again last night, so the night out was cheap. Always good. Steph did a car bomb. That was funny.

Today's Sunday. Evan dragged my mildly hung over ass out for a morning ride. Glad to get out there. Of course, the weather forecasters are effin' morons. They were calling for decent weather in the a.m. and rain in the p.m. It spit some drops on me on my way into the Park at 10:15AM. The skies have been bright blue since around 1:30PM. Go figure. I think I would've stayed out on the bike longer if the weather was like this earlier in the day. Oh well.

That's the latest. Blogging should be a little smoother now that we have an Internet connection. Hopefully I'll have some good eats to report on this week. Even better, hopefully the Redline will come together this week and I'll finally get to racin'.

Crank-y

A little week end re-cap.

Had majorly high hopes of finally piecing the Redline together this week. No dice. Hooked up with Pinks this week all ready to get rockin' on the thing. He assured me that everything was in. I was eager to get the thing up and running for Granogue. My thinking was a little too wishful. I had a sneaking suspicion that the Campy to Shimano freehub body got overlooked in all the ordering chaos. My worst fears came true. Pinks looked majorly confused when I asked where that critical part was hiding. Things only got worse from there. Headset went on without a hitch. Pinkey hooked me up with some bling, bling, blingy RED carbon spacers. Then it came time to install the cranks. Earlier in the session I had pulled the 53 and 39 off a set of FSA cranks. In the process of mounting the 42, I handily stabbed myself in the knuckle with a tooth. Other than the cut on my right hand from when I decided to play catch with a spackling knife, I can't say I've ever cut so deep. This week's wound was a mere puncture, but that shit was deep. I could see the fat spilling out. The finger is numb in front of the cut. Nerves severed? Nice. Lots of blood. Anyhow...I've lost focus here. The driveside crank slid right on the ISIS bb. The non-drive side crank, though, created a little complication. Turns out, Rob mis-paired the drive and non-drive cranks he generously donated to the cause. The non-drive crank is an SLK and interfaces with FSA's Mega-EXO bb. Damn. Game over. The build is currently on hold. Racing this weekend is currently on hold. Pisser.

I'm still gonna hit up Granogue with Ellicott. It'll be sweet to watch the pros and see some national champs. If all goes as planned, I'll ride to TP tomorrow morning to get some riding in. Beyond that, I'll have the Surly in Delaware for some more riding. And then I'll probably have to ride home from TP at the end of it all. Should be a great time.

If the Redline debacle was the week's low-light, last night was certainly the highlight. I lucked out in early September when I saw an ad for an October Wilco show in DC. I saw the ad the same day tickets went on sale. SVR and I have a major fondness for the band and I snatched two tickets. They made a pretty sweet b-day gift for SVR...particularly considering I wasn't able to secure tickets to the traveling 'So You Think You Can Dance' live show. Somehow, I think SVR really wanted to see that. Turned out, Mike Jorgensen (keyboardist for Wilco) is a spitting image for one of the SYTYCD players, so all was well. Anyhow, to keep it short and sweet, the concert was gorgeous. The musicianship was spot on, the crowd was decent, our vantage point was great, and the song selection was awesome. Hear the thing at NPR.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6262709

And to end the week, tonight we're off to try Roberto Donna's newly opened Bebo Trattoria. It's in the old Oyamel space. Yes, that means a trip to VA. Wish us luck. It's opening night, so I expect some major deficiencies. Maybe ol' Bebo will pleasantly surprise me.

Rush Hour Reefer

After a painfully long hiatus, I'm back to riding. Yesterday was my first weekday afternoon ride in over three weeks...maybe even four. What happened to drivers over the past month? They seemed particularly hazardous and crazed and maniacal and nutty yesterday. Here's an example.

I was on MacArthur Blvd., approaching the stop sign just before Glen Echo Park. Cars were lined up about twenty deep and there was room to pass on the right. I rolled slowly past the line-up and caught a whiff of smoke. It was faint at first and grew increasingly pungent as I rolled further down the line. I eventually rolled past a car with windows up and reeking of pot smoke. Lemme tell you, that made me feel wonderfully safe. As if MacArthur isn't narrow enough and drivers aren't already hazardous enough and the low-lying afternoon sun isn't distracting enough. Now I gotta worry about sharing the congested roads with some schmuck hot-boxin' it on his way home from work. Nuthin' like feeling safe out on the roads!

Crash and Burn

Hit the deck yesterday. Ouch. Took the turn coming off the one-lane bridge at Glen and S. Glen a little too hot. Combine that with a little more dirt/gravel than normal at that intersection and...BLAM! Feeling 30 mph of pain this morning. I'm badly bruised on the left side and am sporting some nasty cuts on my left knee and arm. As for the 'burn' in this entry's title, it's a relevant verb because it's what I felt when I doused the wounds with peroxide post-shower last night and it's also what the road left on my left crelbow. It's incredible how skimming the road surface can abrase the skin to a burned state. Yuck. Maybe I'll be able to post some photo evidence in the coming days.

Never mind my injuries. Let's talk about the bike. I was on the Ritchey. She got tossed around pretty dramatically. Shifters are bruised and battered and the bars and stem should be replaced. Otherwise, it'll take some time on the trainer (my improvised work stand) to figure out if there's any other mechanical damage. It's always sad to see the machine suffer. Can you hear its desperate moans?

Food not bikes.

Well, well, well. There's little to report on the cycling front. Mostly, I haven't been doing it. My layzee-ness, however, hasn't stopped me from running out and buying a new ride to add to the collection. As I think I proclaimed a few posts ago, I'm stoked for 'cross season and aim to do it right this time 'round. With that, I pulled the trigger and ordered this:

My first foray into aluminum. We'll see how it treats me.

In other news, don't eat at Red Lobster. I let SVR talk me into a lunch there this Sunday. I had mini shrimp on my salad. Then I got back to the car and sneezed. Don't try this at home, kids!

Really, though, the eatin' hasn't all been that bad this summer. Here are a few shots of some lovely home-cooked numbers SVR and I whipped up over the past few weeks.

This summery ensemble included the famous Fleischmann meatloaf, some sweet-ass corn, and some adequately rich mashed Yukon Golds. I think we paired it with Mendocino Red Tail Ale. Though the meatloaf is probably a better winter meal, the corn all but made up for the other items' density. Mad props go out to all the Fleischmann ladies for keeping the recipe alive and passing it on to me.

Another recent highlight was a gorgeous salmon fillet pan cooked with an emulsified lime and butter sauce. SVR brought the sauce recipe back from 'bama and my blender made the emulsification a snap. We normally cook fish in the oven and are usually met with varying degrees of contentment. This time 'round, we cooked the salmon in the cast iron skillet. That cooking method was the key to our success. Keeping the fish out in the open allowed us to watch the flesh cook and we were best able to monitor how quickly and how much the meat cooked. This technique resulted in moist, flavorful, perfectly pink salmon. The accompaniments were so darn simple, but bursting with flavor. The rice was of the basmati sort and the carrots were minimally steamed. The lime sauce was pungent and tartfully refreshing, the carrots were sweet and just the right amount of crunchy, and the basmati was nutty and fragrant. I think some Viognier paired okay with this.

Going forward, the home-cooked meals might suffer from a period of adjustment. SVR and I bought a condo (what?!?!?) and we'll be forced into using an electric range. Might take a while to get up to speed on the thing, but the larger kitchen should yield some excellent opportunities for good eatin' at home.

Problem with his uterus?

This just in from former world champ, Oscar Friere. Offering a reason for some dizziness he's experienced recently, he said:

"Ever since I've abandoned the Tour I haven't felt very well at all. I have dizzy spells and I have headaches," Freire told the Diario Vasco. "I went to the doctor and initially they told me it might be vertigo. Later they told me it could a cervical syndrome. The problem is that I have to ride with care when I am on the bike to not crash and give myself a breakdown."

I'm confused. I didn't realize men have cervixes. Causes me to question all the biology I was ever taught. I guess I oughta get on the horn with my doc to schedule a Pap smear. Can't be too careful!!

The return of the SVR

Well, SVR returns tomorrow. I'm unbelievably excited. I think that sums it up. Her return should yield more frequent food related postings.

OTB (new acronym...Off The Bike...and I hope I don't have to use it again anytime soon!!) for a full seven days. Not how I'd prefer it to be, but I've been out of town and occupied with, er, deep thoughts of late. Some things in life are more important. Hopefully I'll get out tomorrow and back into the swing of things. After all, I'm scheduled to do a dirt crit (ha!!!) this Sunday.

Still keeping my fingers crossed about acquiring an adequate 'cross bike for the coming season. Maybe THAT'S where I'll turn it on this season. It has been a very up and down season, so maybe a solid 'cross showing will help me feel more accomplished.

In other news, Cingular sux.

In OTHER other news, Senor Landis (I wonder if that's what the docs in Spain called him) is really in the hot seat at this point. I just received the latest VeloNews issue. Tons of possibilities for tasteless humor re: the Floyd. The headlines and ads and letters to the editor are ripe, I mean RIPE, for multiple low blows. Truth be told, I think the lab in France squirted a little something extra into his pee sample. I'll leave it at that for now.