What's this strange sensation...?

The mercury topped off today at a positively balmy apex of 25 degrees. And considering that was 30 degrees warmer than when I was last on the bike, I decided it was a moral imperative to get out and pedal like fuck.

I headed to LBS #1 to pick up the shoes that were given to me last weekend (Kickass, Johnny Sprockets. Here's a tip o' the hat to ye), then I headed south to Cycle Smithy, where I needed to discover all the arcane methods of Brooks saddle tightening; then I jaunted over to REI, where I really didn't need ANYTHING, but figured would be as good a destination as any; then I headed back north, where the "thunking" upon front brake application threatened to drive me insane. So, with a final stop at Uptown Bikes, it was diagnosis: street filth in rim. After a gentle sanding, the nonsense was no more, and it was happy trails (except for the dozing asshole drivers on Broadway) all the way home.

So with the above gauntlet being run, I scored a decent 15 miles for the day. Hardly epic, but more than I've done all at once since being back from New Orleans. And you know what? I'm feeling strangely fine... :-)

Wow. It's been a while

First post of the new year. Far out. So far, I'm finding 2009 highly overrated. ;-)

But I managed to get back to New Orleans for the holidays, suffering with a WICKED sprained ankle; in fact, it got so bad that I had to hunt down a doc the day after Christmas and get the jive sorted out. It was a BAD sprain.

That night, I was riding to meet a buddy!

Mom got me 2 700x 28 Vittoria Randonneur tires, ably mounted to the wheels of my Bridgestone 500. Needless to say, I was chomping at the bit to get out and ride; compounding the mania was the fact that the southern weather was largely in the 70's during the vacation, and NO's lunar-surface streets were wonderfully bereft of the gritty asshole filth and ice that characterize Chicago's mean winter streets.

And it was a holiday of bikey gifts. I gave Mom a sprung Brooks saddle, and sis got a Planet Bike blinky light set. Mom a near-mint '83 Trek 620 and the saddle was TOTAL CLASS on her steed. I really think she dug it. And one day we made off to the newest shared-use lane in the city and had a killer 20+ mile jaunt in the balmy climes.

Holy Christ, do I miss it there.

I'm thinking my best laid plans to make it to Portland as a resident may be on hold. I realize how much I love having my family and best friends in arm's reach, and Oregon is starting to feel a bit too remote for my liking. So my choices for (hopefully SOON) relocation are New Orleans(again...), Austin(again...)....and well, okay, Portland...If it promises not to snow anymore EVER!