Celebrating the Bliss!

To celebrate two years of blissful legal union, SVR and I extracted ourselves from our comfort zone and tried two, that's right, TWO new dinner spots in one, that's right, ONE weekend.

Last October, we traveled to visit friends in the Hague and Belgium. It was a spectacular trip on so many fronts and, not surprisingly, food and drink were always front and center. With 'cross season just around the corner (this is supposed to be a cycling and food blog, yes?) and last fall's vacation on the mind, we decided to try Et Voila! (they deliberately add the '!,' just like Yahoo! and Jeopardy!), a Belgian bistro, for our anniversary celebration proper.

The restaurant is easy to miss, as it's tucked in among a barber shop (probably a salon, but I'm kinda old fashioned and prefer the imagery 'barber shop' provokes), a pet food store, and an antique shop. Et Voila! isn't in much of a 'destination' spot in DC. The space is long and narrow. Up front, the bar seats four and doesn't offer an ideal spot to linger while waiting for a table, but thankfully our table was ready and waiting when we arrived. Something about the interior design, the spacial layout, the lighting, the clientele, the staff, and the smells and sounds struck me and SVR as distinctly 'Euro.' It all came together in a certain je ne sais quoi kinda way to offer a near perfect transport back to some of the mid-range Belgian spots we tried in Bruges. Wanna get away? Screw Southwest. Try Et Voila!

With Belgian spots, and their corresponding beers, pretty much all the rage these days, I was eager to see how the beer list stacked up against some of the others around town. Disappointingly, there are no taps at Et Voila!, so all options are from the bottle. Though the list ran upwards of 25-30 choices, I've tried most of what I saw and thought I'd start a special occasion with special occasion libations. A $9 glass of Crémant De Bourgogne, Laurent Tripoz champagne was good stuff. And organic. Sparkling. Tasty. Light. Balanced.

For food, I started with a beef tartare paired with greens and SVR had a roasted beet salad. Both were pretty amazing. Conventional bistro items, but executed so well. My beef was uniformly chopped and mixed with the requisite savories. I tasted some mustard and shallot and capers. Much to my delight, I also caught a sliver of sweetness from, I think, some cornichons. No toast points. Just the well-dressed arugula and other spring greens. Though the lettuce was pretty heavily doused, I didn't mind at all. The dressing was tart and sour and spicy. The champagne worked well with that dish. SVR's beets disappeared quickly, but I did snag one bite. I can't say anything was particularly unusual about the preparation, but can say the flavors were nice and stout and the beets were cooked perfectly. Just a super solid rendition of a beet salad with some goat cheese and nuts. Supposedly the beets were heirloom beets, but I can't say that mattered much to the taste.

Mains were also basic fare. Despite the hot weather, SVR had the Flemish stew. A classic rendition, it was rich and meaty. Stewed in beer, there wasn't much specific beer flavor, but I'm sure some of the subtle fruit in the sauce was leftover from whatever Belgian ale the chef used. SVR handed over the accompanying crouton garnish. It was toasted bread with a horseradish or mustard spread. I thought that spice bomb was great on its own and would've been good balance to the rich and slightly sweet stew. Her loss. My gain. The dish came with some fries. They were phenomenal. Plenty hot, really crispy, mediumly thin, and rightly salted, I had to battle to get my hands on more than just one. Entering her third trimester, SVR has been branching back out to the rare glass of wine. For this special occasion, she had a glass of Malbec and judged it, "Good and certainly good with the beef stew."

I opted for a chicken dish. Again, basic. Seared breast advertised as 'herb crusted' and accompanied by spinach, potato croquette, and red wine sauce. I'm back to challenging restaurants to cook chicken well. In skilled hands, chicken can be so frickin' good. For a while, I think chicken just played second fiddle. Often prepared safely and without much flare, I think chefs were getting away with serving dry, over cooked fowl. But spots like Palena treat their chicken with care. Firefly also does a killer roasted chicken. Those places offer hope and I'm kinda on a mission to test restaurants by seeing how they handle the lowly chicken. Et Voila! passed the test. The 'herb crusted' turns out to be 'herb topped.' A slug-like (I know, not an appetizing image) herb swath ran the length of the seared breast. I don't know what the base ingredient was, but the blob held together firmly and was packed with herbes de provence type flavors and some other, brighter, green flavors. My first cut into the breast left me wondering if I erred with my chicken choice. But a few cuts into the thicker piece of meat left me super happy with my decision. The chicken was moist and flavorful. The potato croquette were awesome. Consistently golden in color, they were crispity crunchity on the outside and positively fluffy on the inside. Spinach was not watery and peppered with noticeable diced garlic. The real highlight was the glassy, rich, deep, tart, luscious red wine sauce. I coulda had a bowl of this stuff for soup. The spinach provided the perfect vehicle for mopping up and absorbing all remaining sauce. Card carrying member of the clean plate club. Right here. I paired this dish with a Mardesous Brune, knowing the deep, slightly fruity, 8% brown ale would stand up to the savory herbs and the rich wine sauce.

All-in-all, they savory part of the meal was a smashing success.

I'm not a huge fan of chocolate desserts, particularly mousse. My advanced research promised this spot's chocolate mousse would be off the hook. We ordered one. Solid choice. It was not painfully sweet. It is made with a pretty deep and dark chocolate, so it had a bit more complexity than a Hershey's milk chocolate bar. Best of all, there was a little crunchy texture added by way of some cocoa nibs on top.

I rounded it all out with an espresso (a much appreciated heavy crema on that one) and judged the spot a near perfect semi-casual spot to celebrate a joyous day.

I shouldn't ignore the service. It was decidedly fine. The waiter wasn't exactly warm, but that doesn't bug me. We received everything we asked for, had ample opportunity to provide feedback, and didn't feel intruded on. Can't complain about any of that.

It's also good to know Et Voila! offers enough stuff on the menu, including the expected mussels and fries, to make it appropriate for a non-special occasion. It ain't cheap, but I suspect you could get in and out for $35 a head (shared starter, two orders of mussels or burgers, a shared dessert, and two drinks). We'll be back.

Clearly, I went all 'NOT TODAY' on this post, so I'll have to save thoughts about Estadio, the other new try, for another day.

2Amys and Pizzeria Orso Matchup

It is no surprise that we are big fans of 2Amys, but when friends suggested we hit up Pizzeria Orso last night we were excited to get a taste of Edan MacQuaid's pizza making skills.

Both restaurants are pizzerias, but it is also clear that they are restaurants with different aims, so it is probably unfair to compare the two. Orso feels firmly focused on the pizza and 2Amys, where pizza is the main attraction, is also interested in exploring other flavors of Italy through its charcuterie and ever changing small plates. Even if it isn't fair to do this comparison...I will shall embark upon it anyway, in what I hope is a just the facts approach. I also caveat this entry by noting that I have only been to Orso once and have been to 2Amys more times than I can count.

Ambiance: Orso has a nice new space with a great looking bar area. I appreciated that they didn't seem to cram too many tables into the space. If the wait gets too long at Orso they seem to have some good overflow space, unlike 2Amys which can get crowded around the bar if the weather is bad. Like 2Amys, Orso is loud and for our party of 6 it was a bit hard to hear what was going on at the other end of the table.

Service: Service at Orso was appropriately attentive and friendly. It was also nice to see some old 2Amys faces there who recognized us and were friendly. We are always treated right at 2Amys so obviously no complaints there either.

Wine/Beer Selection: The wine menu at Orso is significantly truncated in comparison to 2Amys, but it has the appropriate Italian standbys. JFW thought the beer selection was fair, but perhaps not as ambitious as it should be given the large number of restaurants in the area with solid beer programs.

Antipasti/Small Plates: As noted above, this doesn't seem to be the focus at Orso, and I thought it showed, or maybe I have just undergone full indoctrination at 2Amys. We tried the suppli (fried risotto rice balls) at Orso and they just didn't have a strong tomato and cheese flavor and one of JFW's was missing the cheese inside. Don't get me wrong the suppli wasn't bad, it just wasn't as good as 2Amys' offering. Another favorite of ours is the crositini at 2Amys (english pea and prosciutto), and here again Orso came close but didn't quite hit the mark. The morel mushroom crostini should have been a slam dunk for us, but the bread felt overly saturated with olive oil making it a little unappetizing to me.

Pizza: Here I think Orso and 2Amys are well matched. Our table ordered some of Orso's special stuffed pizzas and a more traditional pizza and we were all pleased. Of course, one has to like traditional Italian style crust at both places or one risks disappointment. So congrats to Orso for going toe to toe with 2Amys on this front. My one caution here is the price. The most expensive pizza at 2Amys is $13.95, whereas the Vesuvius stuffed pizza at Orso ran $19.00. While the cost of ingredients might justify the upcharge, I think this is something they'll need to watch.

So that's the run down. No surprise I still prefer 2Amys since one of my favorite things about going there is the small plates, but I think Orso made a solid showing and wish the MacQuaid's success.

Tastes of Montana

JFW is taking a break for the summer from his blog...actually he has taken a break for a long time and I thought it was high time to reinvigorate things. So I am trying my hand at a few food related entries.

JFW and I just got back from vacation in Montana. While the food scene in Montana might not be what it is here in DC, we had some amazing meals.

First, let me say that hands down I continue to think that Red Bird Restaurant in Missoula, MT has the best creme brulee I have ever had. Thanks to chef Jim Tracey for cooking it up special for me since it is no longer regularly on the menu. Red Bird is also remarkable for their amazing beer list. JFW found an Belgian oude gueze that we last had on vacation in Belgium and haven't seen since. The food of course was also remarkable the highlights including some Alaskan spot prawns, a morel mushroom and asparagus soup, and the bison filet.

We also headed up to Holland Lake, which is situated between the Bob Marshall Wilderness to the east and the Mission Mountains to the west. It was beautiful and a great few days away. While the scenery, I think, made everything taste good, the food at Holland Lake Lodge stood on its own and was worth the trip. Most notable were the dinners. My favorite meal was our first dinner. I started with a black bean soup with a mango salsa, followed by the beef filet for my main, and finished it off with a homemade coconut cake. JFW had a roasted beet salad, pistachio encrusted halibut, and frozen key lime pie for dessert. As a native Floridian, JFW was impressed that the key lime pie flavors were spot on, but I think he was less enthusiastic about the frozen pie format. What was most impressive about the food at Holland Lake was the consistency. All meals are eaten in the main Lodge because there really is no where else for miles around to eat, so the consistency in the kitchen was greatly appreciated.

Finally, the kitchen at my sister's place shouldn't be overlooked. Thanks to their enormous garden we enjoyed some amazing fresh produce - most notably the lettuce.

Fried Anchovy Bones

Not your typical bar snack. Better than salted peanuts. The lemon adds
a really nice touch of flavor, but takes away from the extreme crunch
of the fried breading and bones. Try 'em!

Snow-body Gonna Break My Stride

Had to try to find a different play on 'snow' for this post. Not really sure it works, but...whatevs.

So...the past 24 hours have been a pretty serious blast. It all started innocently enough. Late afternoon hours yesterday looked something like this:

Not bad, right? By dinner time, it was also snow angel time. The epitome of a pure angel! (Said angel lost her phone during that maneuver! Don't worry, we went back and I found it right away.)

Morning came and things were looking both beautiful and a bit daunting. SVR got out for a run on the treadmill and I putzed and readied breakfast. This simple meal would prove even more fulfilling later in the day. Friday night, hEllicott and I exchanged a text or two about possible mountain biking in the snow Saturday. It was all conditions dependent. Also an option? Hooking up with MattyD. in RCP. He was planning a ski adventure. Around 10:30AM, Evan stepped up and decided to play sacrificial lamb. Willing to test the waters (and knowing my propensity to, er, wimp out of such climatically challenging events), he set out and I stood by awaiting word of conditions on the ground. The call eventually came in and word was things 'weren't so bad' down on Beach Drive. With SVR's urging, I dropped trou' immediately, as any thinking about what I was about to do was sure to derail my less than best laid plan. I was out the door in about a half hour (with a backpack full of beers, no less) and set out into some redonk conditions. As I gingerly scooted down Porter towards the Park, I was hearing many "nice job"s, "good work"s, and "brave soul"s as I progressed towards Connecticut Ave., NW. There were a fair number of people just messin' around in and along the street. I made it to Connecticut, but not really recognizing where I was (and also distracted by several cargo vans fish-tailing their way up Connecticut), I over shot Tilden and doubled back to continue my descent into the abyss. Tilden was amazing. Some sort of vehicle or 'device' had plowed a narrow (4' wide) chute and also threw enough pow' pow' on the cars lining the street to turn them into 8' tall cotton balls. Amazing. Once I hit Beach, Evan's report actually made sense. Beach was variably passable. Some spots were thick and others were rutted out. Mostly, 99% of everything was ride-able. Hard to say how much of the three hour outing was actually spent riding, but my legs are now telling me I did more work than it felt like at the time. Ready to exit the Park, Evan and I stopped at The Gate for a ceremonial brewski. Matty and Chris Clarke showed (as did a WaPo reporter, so look for mention of us in Sunday's paper) and we all had a wee nip (pourin' one out for Il Nessie with that one).

Headed back up Tilden (a total mess going uphill) and found Porter very ride-able. Usually a pain in rump of a way to finish of a ride, it was particularly painful on the Ruffian and in the friction-inducing snow. Awaiting me? Waffles left over from the morning meal, some pumpkin butter, and a nice cup of strong coffee (I've decided Illy is worth the premium price). I think this scene might even make a Belgian proud.

Energized once more and feeling in the right frame of mind to do some diggin' out, I sought the condo's communal snow shovel to try to clear a path for the car. Good thing I am young, big, strong man. It was not easy to get to this:

So here we are...warm, hungry, and feeling like we got a bunch done for a day with no auto availability and when most were holed up inside. But it don't stop there. This, along with a cheap bottle of Pepperwood Pinot Noir, awaits us:

Let it snow!!

2010 Training Kick-Off!!!

My PowerAgent 7.4.5 software indicates the last time I rode my bicycle was Dec. 20th. Whiga-what???!!! Bad news. Bad news.

Getting dressed this morning, I went to put on my belt. Tried for the hole I used for the past ten, maybe fifteen, years. Couldn't quite get there without generating uncomfortable constriction. No biggie. I thought I could just back it out one hole. No dice. Still too tight. I had to step one hole further back and swallow my pride. So here I am, a month off the bike, experiencing my first significant weight gain since college.

SVR observed this whole ordeal and said, "You're going into work early and we're having leftovers for dinner so you don't have to cook this evening. Come home from work and get on your friggin' trainer!" Tough love. After that tongue lashing, I decided she was right. Let the games begin.

Home by 4:15PM, I was actually pretty amped to see where things stood...to see how far I'd really fallen. Last weekend's squash outing confirmed I'm pretty dang out of shape. I came away from that match with several things broken, my racket (see below) and my pride. Time for some redemption.

Twenty-four days without any attention tends to leave bicycle tires slightly deflated (kinda like my ego was after the ass whooping I received on the squash court), so step one in my comeback was to pump up the Cannondale's tires. Easier said than done. After the the Capital Cross Classic, I left my bicycle pump in Matty D.'s trunk. A bunch of random shit caused it to end up on Capitol Hill during the recent snow storm. Last time I was at Matt's, the pump was still on the Hill, so he loaned me his secondary pump to use in the meantime. So I set things up to pump up the tires and...pfffffffft. Something is totally effed with the head of the pump and it pretty much bled my rear tire of most air and won't assist with reinflation efforts. A case of stagflation? Maybe not. Anyhow...2010 training kick off? FAIL! I guess I coulda busted out some CO2 or the ol' mini-pump. I didn't.

I ate Belgian chocolate instead. Hey, at least it was Belgian.

Rapid Fire

Regular complaints from some folks closest to me have prompted the following uninspired, disorganized, apropos of nothing update.

On the cycling front: Boonen. Is it me or does he look like he's strung out on the stuff that got him in trouble the past two years. Hopefully none of the vampires were waiting in the wings at this photo shoot to collect blood or snip hair. Seems to me he would've come up positive for the nose candy.

Speaking of Belgium...nice score from a friend at our favorite watering hole.

Haven't really touched a bike since I hit the deck a few times over at Capital Cross Classic. As in years past and years past, this year I had to pull myself outta the season's closer. Always a disappointment. And seemingly always a guaranteed outcome! These wounds are just getting around to healing.

On the food front, some brief reports. Stopped in at EatBar this past Sunday around 1:30PM. Chose it over Tallula, as I expected they wouldn't be serving the same brunch menu. Wanted savory, non-breakfast items. Turns out, the two spots share the Sunday menu. Stuck around anyway.

Overall, a pretty lackluster dining experience. We sat for approx. twenty minutes before anyone acknowledged us. When the waiter did show, I was actually around the corner scoping Tallula to see if the waiter/waitress situation over there was any more robust. It was and I returned to the table to suggest our group move. But the bartender/waiter was finally attending to us and asking around for drink orders, so we stuck it out. I ordered a burger and asked for med.-rare. Burger came out brown, dry, and cooked well-done. Also, it was really, really salty. Not much flavor other than salt. It clearly sat under the heat lamp too long, as the lettuce was completely wilted, the tomato was petrified, and the onion was also dry as a bone. SVR said her burger also only tasted of salt. I sent mine back for a re-cook. It came back to me like a black and white cookie. Half the burger was 'blue' and stringy raw meat and the other half was just like the hockey puck I sent back. Also as with the first attempt, the only discernible flavor was salt. Blech. Pretty bummed to've paid $12 for such a bad burger. Garnish, even the second time around, was also woefully meh.

I've heard good things about the standard evening menu at EatBar (and even sampled a few 'snacks' about twelve months ago), so this unfortunate experience let me down.

The other recent culinary wild ride was at Honey Pig (Gooldaegee). It's Korean BBQ. Crazy stuff. Cheap. I hardly ever feel out of my element at a restaurant, but I felt very un-practiced here. I want to return having studied up a bit so I can order better and know what to expect and how to conduct myself. Dated WaPo review here. They no longer allow smoking, but that doesn't mean there isn't plenty of smokiness to go around. Wear clothes that are due for a trip through the washer. If you visit Honey Pig, you'll come home smelling like sweet, smokey meats. There are worse things!

Back to the cycling. Yes. Back to cycling. I expect to get back to it this weekend.

The Big 40 @ Blob's

Got Beer?

That's at least two or three days of work to get down the line.

BCA Cross

First turn. Flatted out. Not my day.

Mobile Test

Belgium, here we come!

Gee Atherton

Breathtaking. How do they do it? I'm worried for the announcer's heart. On the verge of cardiac arrest, best I can tell.

Not a Rod Stewart Fan

Something tells me Chris Horner is NOT a Rod Stewart fan. Dude is not one of the guys with all the luck.

http://www.cyclingnews.com/news/horner-out-of-vuelta-with-fractured-wrist

And, Robb, you don't have to say it. I know how you'd characterize this post.

Un-BEE-leviable (Redux)

WTF? 30+ years without a bee sting. Now, within a two month span, I get stung TWICE!! FU bee. Out at Rosaryville, a bee landed on my arm and struck. From my July experience, I kinda knew what to expect. But I also thought I might get off easier this time. No dice. Elephantiasis of the friggin' forearm. Popeye the bloody sailor man. Evan is into this whole seven (or eight) minute abs thing. Me? I'm into the arm muscle development...in a day. It's pretty tender and sore and itchy and scratchy and ugly. A buddy tells me most people get stung two or three times in their lives.

Liberty Tavern

Gonna try to be more regular with food postings...even if they end up fragmented or incomplete or not neatly packaged.

On a beautiful Sunday evening, we ended up in Clarendon around dinnertime. Hoping to try Eventide, we found it shuttered for Sunday dinner and opted for Liberty Tavern. The result? A generally mixed experience.

Most notably, service was pretty lacking. Sat at a four top upstairs for about fifteen minutes before anyone acknowledged us. Waiter reported one special for the night and couldn't spit it out without looking at his cheat sheet after mentioning each component. We requested a dessert menu so one person at the table could decide if she wanted to save her appetite for a starter or dessert. Getting that menu took about five minutes. These little things added up to a less than stellar service experience.

SVR's rum drink did not taste good. Very, very sweet. Tasted a bit like chlorine and bottled Margarita mix. Never mind that the $9 drink came to the table in a glass only about 2/3 of the way full. Seemed an awful value (decided before tasting how unpleasant it was) and I mentioned the paltry pour to the waiter. He assured me it wouldn't taste good if there was more in the glass. What?! Does the greater liquid surface area interact with the air to make the already bad drink taste worse? Very odd.

Bread basket was really solid. The meal's highlight??

I had some shortribs to start. The meat was very pleasant. The savory sauce and bread made for a nice, gooey, sloppy, rich bite. The heavy meat was paired with some fruit and sauce I imagine was meant to cut the meat's richness. The accompaniment was melon and a melon sauce. It tasted of simple syrup or Karo syrup. Painful in the mouth kinda sweet. Too bad, as the meat was very good.

I had skate for a main. Pan fried nicely. Tender fish. Sides (though Spaetzle and potato seemed a little heavy for a summer evening) worked well. Again, though, the sauce (raspberry this time?) tasted like candy. It was sweeter than I tend to prefer dessert. Very odd.

Sooooo...I really wanted to like Liberty Tavern. I thought the menu looked thoughtfully composed and smartly balanced. Service and a really heavy hand with, of all things, sugar left me feeling disappointed. For what we paid (about $60/person), I wanted something a bit better.

None of my Business??!!

If person #1's illegal and irresponsible behavior could cause harm to person #2, is person #1's behavior person #2's "business?"

Yesterday, I was riding down Tilden Street, NW into Rock Creek Park. From Connecticut Avenue, NW to Beach Drive, it's a pretty zippy descent. There's a bike lane on the right side of Tilden. When I descend that stretch, I often top out around 38 mph. Keep in mind, the speed limit is posted as 25 mph. When I descend, I'm generally in the wrong and breaking the law. So I was descending Tilden yesterday afternoon and was going above the speed limit and was outside the bike lane. If I'm not going under the speed limit, I believe I can travel in the automobile lane. As I'm coasting downhill, I hear the ever-familiar 'beep-beep' in the distance. The horn gets louder and I can tell the car is barreling down on me. I check my speed-o and see I'm at 37 mph. The fuck if I'm gonna move out of the way of a car that's clearly going way too fast for the conditions. But the car persists with the honking and I decide to move right and give them no reason to go bonkers. So they fly past me at what must've been 45-48 mph. At the bridge near Pierce Mill, the traffic is backed up due to a red light. The car that passed me is last in line and I roll up to the vehicle. Driver's side window is down and I see the woman is happily chatting on her phone (no hands-free device in use). I opt to interrupt her phone call to point out that I was, on the descent, already going well above the speed limit and she was driving pretty dangerously to pass me. She ignores me, so I give her a, "Hey. Hang up your stupid phone. In DC, it's illegal to be on the phone without a hands-free set." Her response, "Leave me alone. Me being on my phone is none of your business."

What?!?! To me, that's just so hard to stomach. How is it not my business to look out for my own safety and best interests? How is it not my business to point out the illegal behavior that could easily lead to my injury or death? It IS my business to protect myself. And if engaging in conversation with strangers who are behaving irresponsibly and dangerously is what I need to do to TRY to protect myself, then I'll make their business my business. Grrrrrrrr.

Could I Bee Less Lucky?

Remember JV's episode at the 2001 Tour? Insect (wasp?) sting that swelled up nice and big? See here:
Well, I was out Wednesday and almost met a similar fate. Thankfully, I was wearing sunglasses when a bee came bombing at my face. In a split second, it ricocheted off the glasses and hit my lower quad on the upstroke of my pedal stroke. The bee must've been frightened and ready for attack, 'cause it immediately stung me. Believe it or not, I've lived life having never previously been stung by a bee. Turns out...I must be pretty allergic. My left leg is swollen enough that it's painful to bend the leg. It kept me off the bike Thursday and we'll see about today. I don't want to pull a JV and have to withdraw from July's big race (locally, at least), but we'll have to see how the leg feels tomorrow morning. I think the poison worked its way up my leg, as a gland in my groin area is also very swollen and tender. Un-BEE-lievable!

GamJams Reviews: Bottle cages - Bontrager Race Lite Cage

Pretty straightforward accessory part. The bottle cage, primarily, must function well. That means it should keep a water bottle in place securely over smooth and rough pavement. It should also allow for relatively quick and easy bottle removal and replacement. Bonus features are low gram count, attractive design, and low cost.

I find the Bontrager Race Lite Cage to do pretty much all I ask. I've used 'em on mountain bikes and road bikes and find they perform admirably.

• Secure grip? Check.

• Easy bottle removal and replacement? Check.

• Low gram count? Not as light as the Zipp Speed Weaponry cages on the Giant (25g), but certainly respectably light at 38g.

• Attractive design? Simple look. Almost looks like a human reach out with a hug. At the same time, moderately aggressive with some acute angles.
  

• Low cost? Check. You can find these on sale for about $10. Much better price point than the $60 Zipps.

I find the Bontrager cage to work really well with the 21 oz. Specialized water bottles. The top tab on the cage grabs the lip of the water bottle very securely and holds snuggly. What more can you ask for? Colors, you say? Take your pick. I've had white in the past, but am currently running the ever-neutral black on the Cannondale.

I don't see reason to move away from this cage anytime soon.

Positives at the Tour

Can't put my finger on when or during which Grand Tour, but I remember seeing similar headlines in the past.

'Haussler remains positive'

Don't you think 'hopeful' or 'upbeat' or 'optimistic' might be a better word choice? In cycling's context, "positive" has a bit of a bad reputation.

Warning: Lance Arstrong Sympathizing Ahead

There will be plenty to watch and plenty that entertains at this year's Tour de France. I'm not one to focus too much attention on Lance Armstrong, but I did start to ponder a certain 'what if and when' question.

If you believe Lance Armstrong was, pre-retirement, unfairly targeted and even set-up/sabotaged by 'the French' (authorities, media, organizers, etc.), then it seems logical Armstrong, competing again on French soil, will be up for a new round of accusations and sabotage. Why would 'the French' stop now? So the questions are:

1. Will it happen?
2. If so, when will it happen?
3. What will they say he's on?
4. How will he defend himself this time?

Now...it's entirely possible Armstrong was on something throughout his first career. It's hard to imagine he was the sole clean top performer. Never mind that. Even though riders continue to get caught red-handed, you have to figure Armstrong is not inclined to use illicit methods during the comeback. He knows testing is stricter, he knows he's a target, and he knows what he (and his foundation) stand to lose if authorities accuse him and can prove it true. And even if he has methods at his disposal he and his confidants think will escape identification through testing, I really don't think he'd chance a positive at this point. Let's assume he will ride clean.

The bicycle racing will produce plenty of thrills. And the past few years have produced a fair number of post-stage doping thrills. I'll anticipate an exciting race, but I'll also be on edge to see if and when Armstrong turns up a (false) positive at this year's Tour.