Party, party weekend

Riding was significantly curtailed this weekend by socializing. Often I manage to combine the two. Like when I stop in the middle of a mountain bike race to chat with someone stymied by a mechanical.

This weekend, my Saturday mountain bike plan A was was cancelled because my ride pal was hungover. I will not divulge the identity of said rider, but hope that she had a blast on Friday night. I ended up doing a 45 minute (that's right, not mile but minute) road ride in the bitter frigging cold.

Later, I attended the Guy's Racing kick off party in Conshy. They have kindly let the boy race for them in the fiercely competitive 10-12 year old category. I was horrified to see bevy of middle aged patrons standing around the bar watching the 'Nova game. As Blakely remarked, "What do they think, they're 20 and single?" I am sure the bar was in violation of about 46 codes.

Perhaps it's because I've watched the first two seasons of The Wire in the span of a week and a half but everywhere I turn I'm convinced I'm seeing drug deals. Conshy has evolved into this weird cross section of projects, yuppies, newly arrived middle classers (they need a name, preferably some sort of acronym) and last night, a bunch of cyclists. The aroma of pot mixed with wine bar and cheap cologne. I kept waiting for a police raid.

Sunday's early crappy weather curtailed a bike ride. I took the Tarmac to the shop to have my new Ruby handlebar installed. I waited for a year to see if I could adapt to the 40 but it's just no good. Princess Anne needs a 38. After dropping off the bike, the weather changed to glorious. Super duper since I was about to spend a few hours inside at the Red Bowl.

This year's RedBowl surpassed last year's and attracted all sorts of characters. The North Bowl opened the entire venue to the event which made it less claustrophobic. Hey, when you're 5'1" space matters. It's a pain only seeing people's backs:
Highlights of the event included the trainer races. Damien finally won a race! Of course, it almost killed him.My money was on Kristen, but she stopped pedaling before it was over. Finish lines have been causing her problems lately.So even though I didn't ride too much this weekend I got to hang out with some excellent people and talk about bikes. I'd be feeling a bit one dimensional except that tomorrow it's back to work. Oh yeah. Work.

Bike Curious in Philadelphia?

Whether you're a seasoned racer looking for an upcoming event or a novice looking for a group to ride with, the Philadelphia Cycling Examiner answers burning questions with insider savvy.

read more | digg story

Tour d'Afrique

Well, the votes are in.

The bad news: I didn't garner as many votes as my nearest competitor. The good news: My competitor was way over the word limit. The best news: we are co-winners! Thanks, Tour d'Afrique. That's an awesome gesture on your part. "Cycling Mom" comes out of years of riding with my son. Here's a sample of some first grade art work inspired by our commuting endeavors. The project was a calendar highlighting things that made you happy:


Now I just have to keep my fingers crossed that the CHA faculty study money comes in so that I can afford air fare and incidental expenditures. No pressure, CHA. My 4 blog readers won't come down too heavily on you. Thy're a tough bunch, but not that tough.

So here are the two choices given my schedule. Please help me out here because as Dirty Harry wisely remarked, "A man's gotta know his limitations," and I sometimes overlook mine.

Option A:
Budapest to Bucharest

Start: Budapest, Hungary - June 28
Finish: Bucharest, Romania - July 07
Distance: 950km - 9 riding days - 4 resting days
Average 95km per day

Option A is a little plusher than option B. It's half as far, over 10 days. Option B is 17 days. If I'm going to make the trip, it might as well be the longer one, right?

Option B:
Rio de Janeiro to Asuncion

Start: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil July 26
End: Asuncion, Paraguay August 11
Distance: 1,800km
Average:110km per day

Option A would involve the old Allez Pro frame. Steel is real, and if the worse case scenario occurred, I still have the Tarmac so I wouldn't be without a bike, Option B would ideally involve the Fisher 29er but it's my good bike and I don't want to jeapordize in on air travel. My second choice would be turning the old steel SS Salsa back into a geared bike, but that seems like a pain. So, I'm leaning toward the felt. It has a replaceable derailleaur hanger, lightweight, and I can ride it on mountain bike terrain. The bummer is 110km on alluminum. Oh well. These are not really problems.

I am so excited I could spit.

I just did.

When will he break my heart?

When will the Cavendish streak end in a display of contrition and mea culpas? Will we actually see the needle sticking out of his ass as he crosses the line? Or will it be some weird, inconclusive snitch from the anti-doping police?

I want to believe. I just don't want to be a sucker.

Freaked Out...

is what I've been lately. Or, to eschew the vernacular and embrace adult idioms, "overwhelmed." The crazy thing is, there's nothing really going on that should produce this feeling. Maybe winter lasted a bit too long. Maybe it's the job and relentless piles of papers that loom over every weekend. Maybe it's because I volunteered to help organize a bike ride for my 25th college reunion. Maybe it's because I took this job with the Examiner.com and I'm worried about publishing 4 articles a week. Maybe it's because my son doesn't love his bike as much as I wish he did.

These are not problems. I guess it's the up-in-the air stuff like whether or not the boy got into Masterman. Whether or not I won the Tour d'Afrique trip. Whether or not we bring the dog to D.C. Seriously, the whole not being able to go away because of the dog is on my nerves. Ew, I'm a whiner and starting to annoy myself.

Yesterday, I opted out of team training and went on a 2.5 hour tour of the Wiss. A killer mix, specially made for such a ride, provided excellent background noise. My favorite combo was Bowie's Hang on to Yourself as I blasted down the twisty windy trail from the meadows followed immediately by the Dead Kennedys Rawhide as I churned up that rat bastard climb that immediately follows.

I'd like to apologize for referring to the Visit PA team as "goobers." I've been watching a whole lot of Sponge Bob lately, and as everyone knows, he and Patrick are "goofy goobers." Goober gets a lot of play in our house as a term of endearment and when I asked Drew if he was riding with "those goobers" I was in no way trying to be insulting. I'm often an ass, but not on purpose. Sorry.

I also ran into Diana and Alan who seemed to be having a whee of a good time. Always a pleasure seeing them. Ed and Amy were out in full force with a nice group. Alex Mills and I believe Ed were out too. At the end of the ride I ran into Liddell who I recognized from a distance because he was sporting that sweet super Target vest. That's a keeper.

I felt 1,000% better after this ride and feel even better today. I dragged the boy to Pennypack Park where we found some fun but easy trails. It looks like there's a little something for everyone there, and I look forward to further explorations.

The boy is going to Florida for 8 days with his best buddy from across the street. I am going to miss him terribly. Don't tell him that. He's really excited to go and I know he'll have a blast. Maybe this should be added to the list, too.

Parallel Classic

100 miles. That's the total for this weekend. Not bad for me.

Yesterday's spring teaser saw 74 degrees and a bunch of white-legged women in pink shorts. I needed sunglasses just to prevent the leg-glare from causing a crash. Naomi led a group of about 10 through the Mainline and out to Valley Forge. I turned off at Conshy, but still managed to log 45 miles for the day.

Sunday was the final stage of this year's spring classic, and I can't remember the last time I had this much fun on a ride. Ben, M and I took a bit of a short cut to avoid the dreaded Huntington Pike section and found ourselves at an awesome pastry shop in Rockledge. I won my only prem since the days of Jersey shore rides where Snodawg and I cheated our way to victory. I see a patten emerging. Two of my partners in crime, M and Steve:
The dynamic trio of Ben, Peter, and George, resting up at Pennypack:

After the customary Pennypack stop, we claimed Steve and the four of us took off on a mission to ride a parallel classic. After exiting Pennypack past Frankford Avenue, we turned right but blew off the customary left hand turn, opting instead to trust Ben and his GPS. After noodling around the Holmseburg section of the city, we eventually found ourselves on Aramingo Avenue which had a quintessential urban bike lane full of buses, litter, and possibly body parts.

Eventually, we wended our way back to Frankford Avenue, played "spot the hipster," and looked for the Rocket Cat Cafe which we found but didn't visit which I still don't understand 6 hours later. We made it to Delaware Avenue after an excruciating trip down a cobbled part of Front Street. My arms are still shaking. We met up with the others at the Constitution Center and then took off at an unexpectedly vicious pace down Market Street and around City Hall. It was deliciously dangerous.

I got dropped on the Parkway and then watched David and Joe fly past me on West River Drive. Halfway down the Drive, Kirk and some dude in orange and white came by and I caught their wheels, thank you Jesus. I went from 19 to 24mph in a flash and am convinced I'd still be riding around had they not come by. We rode through Manayunk and up the Wall. Ugh. I almost cried when I saw the convenience store at the top of that nasty climb and immediately pounded a Pepsi. Al, M and Ben arrived seconds later, along with the two orange and white kitted fellows.

M, Ben and I eschewed the Hermit Lane descent into the Wiss, choosing instead to drop in at Green Lane. Wise choice. The climb into Chestnut Hill was tame in comparison to the Wall but I was effectively finished. We arrived to find the lead group already ensconced in comfy chairs while smoking cigars and enjoying the rejuvenating power of beer. What a great day.

Day One

Today begins official training for 2009. Rather than jump into the deep end with an aggressive workout, I stuck my big toe in and did 45 minutes on the road with a few sprints. My favorite after-school loop around Chestnut Hill still had icy spots which curtailed plan A, and so I made up plan B.

I arrived home to discover an email from Michael Kirk, who has graciously offered downloads of his awesome cycling pictures. Scrolling through the photos brought fond, warm summer memories.I love this picture. It's at the Fairhill race, about a week after I got Big Blue. Note the happy "new bike" smile. Thanks, Michael!

Seventy and sunny this Sunday...see you on the road!

SNOW DAY

Stacey says I am too short for self-portraits, but she is dead wrong.  Witness the stunning execution of this self-portrait:  and not a booger in sight. Today's snow day offered the perfect opportunity to noodle around on the single speed.  I rode around Chestnut Hill, then dropped into the park.  Although a bit slippy in some sections, the snow for the most part served as an adhesive devise keeping my wheels moving forward without inhibiting forward momentum in the least.  

I rode past the start of the Classic and then up to the Water Tower sledding hill.  Skyler and Jimmy were having a blast courtesy of Skyler's dad, Capt. Pete.  I stopped by the bike shop on the way down to the park, but alas it was closed. No doubt the Handmade Bike Show. I can't bear to look at show photos for fear of dying from acute bike envy. I stopped to chat with Coach George in the throes of shoveling snow. I forgot to take his picture because I was too busy talking him into the Spring Classic. He would love it.

Here's where I wasn't today, except to ride by on my way to Valley Green:Forbidden Drive offered no problems at all, but the trails proved a tad intimidating.Too deep for yours truly. I climbed back out Valley Green road and noodled around the New Covenant campus where it seems like yesterday I was doing cross drills. Now that I've had my snow fun, it's time for the thaw. Let's get rid of the white stuff and get on with the business of riding. (That was for you, Frankie).

Tonight: cx skiing.