corehouse

What's this strange sensation...?

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 00:47:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 01:02:00 +0000

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!

I think this just about sums it up...

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Sun, 21 Dec 2008 15:52:00 +0000

'Cause words kinda escape me at the moment...

Snowpocalypse!

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 22:47:00 +0000

The day started well enough: mild winds (especially for winter!) and beautifully-cleared roads on which to do my two-wheeled thing. I should've figured that was too good to be true...

Jumpin' Jehovah! I could've used some Nokians today, for the sky delivered an unholy blast of snow on Chicago. It began around midday, and continues to come down relentlessly. and all I can hear now are the sirens outside, coupled with the awful slushing-crunching sounds of all te cars driving in the snow. Blarg.

And for the first time in three winters, I actually had to get a co-worker to DRIVE me home. I feel a little dirty. I walked about half a mile from the grocery store to my apartment, and I managed to fall on my ass twice.

Any wonder why I keep dreaming, night after night, that I have moved somewhere else?

So, it's either some Nokians, or maybe I can rent out the Heat Miser's services for a spell. Or is it the Cold Miser?

Testing ye olde car-free resolve

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 23:15:00 +0000

Helluva day to start a car-free life. Not that I would've opted to drive today, but I found it kinda funny that today delivered low double-digit temps, coupled with soulkilling, gusty 30 mph winds. And I didn't have the option of driving at all. THAT felt great!

I worked from home, but had to run a few errands; and luckily, I am armed with some damn proper cold-weather armor. But what's ultimately daunting is the ice on the streets. The city's bold "do-nothing" initiative leaves the streets as slick as the Valdez spill. But I just rode slow n' easy, and managed to kept upright despite the asshole slickery and the unholy gustage.

And tomorrow, full-on winter hellishness is predicted. Good times. Nothing like riding home after work in both rush hour and nigh-blizzard conditions. I can't go home for Christmas soon enough!

So it is done

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 21:29:00 +0000

No, I didn't find a job out of the hostile tundra. But I have throttled over a significant hurdle that has been haunting me for far too long: Today I sold my car.

I got a 2000 Civic when I lived in Austin, and have dragged it around mindlessly to every place I've lived since. What with cycling everywhere in Chicago, it became a real impediment to well-being, considering it just sat around for months on end, accruing tickets and got towed thrice on suspicion of being abandoned.

But today, that all changed. it's GONE. And I only had to whack $400 of my asking price. I feel like celebrating, but the car's only been of peripheral concern to me for the last couple of years; maybe the best course of action is just to act like nothing happened.

Then go score some Lebanese food.

Battered by ice!

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 02:18:00 +0000

Also, from riding in the abominable conditions over the last week, I've eaten a fair deal of shit on the bike. The nearly-invisible ice has had its way with me. Bastard. So I've landed on both right and left sides, and right now I feel like I've done 10 rounds with an amphetamine-fed Mike Tyson. I just looked at my right elbow (the latest victim of the cruel slickery), and it has a sweeet abrasion scab on it.

If I keep this up, by the end of Winter I'm gonna look like Jake Lamotta circa Raging Bull. Only in living, loving Technicolor.

Oof. WIDE load

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 01:48:00 +0000

I have battled fatassery all my life. I was basically raised a veal; I never had friends in my immediate neighborhood, meaning no outdoorsy physical outlet, and my typical pursuits were reading and drawing. I tried my hand at both soccer and softball, and was less-than-marginally happy with both. In fact, my soccer team never won a game during our first season. This was the modus operandi until about age 14. Then I discovered broads (chicks).

Guess what facilitated getting around Baton Rouge oh-so-clandestinely in a usually-futile attempt to woo girls? MY BIKE. Yessir. And nothing fed my ego than when a comely lass would exclaim, "you rode 4 miles to see me?" Hee hee. So after several years of merely riding around the neighborhood to score Now n' Laters, I realized this 2-wheeled sucker was capable of getting me to the most remote quarters of Louisiana's capitol.

But despite all the riding I did (and still do), I remained a baby gorilla. But my diet was utter shit, and I eventually gave up the bike for a misguided life in debaucherous rock n' roll. I didn't own a car until I was 25, but I was suitably impressed by my stoner friends' Camaros, Trans Ams, and the occasional classic Mustang.

But what was most impressive was that most of these folks' parents would cook up this absurdly-huge meal when I'd visit that would ALMOST satiate our weed-bred rapacity!

Fast-forward 20 years. Me. Now. In Chicago. I ride TONS. Gave up the Rock. And my diet got waylaid by the wonders of ethnic foods I had never tried before living in New Orleans. Couple the indulgence of gastronomic wonders with absolute K.R.A.P. conditions outside (greatly hindering my ability to ride my proverbial ass off), then you arrive at some bold new girth. I've actually had to take up doing a mild circuit of weight-training in my apartment to fend off the bloat; so far, the results are inconclusive.

Shit. Long story short: I gotta GO. Living in these harsh, wintry conditions play havoc on my mind and constitution. These days, it takes every bit of wherewithal to even head outside and take the wee-est O' spins. Grr. I'm still eyeing milder locales for relocation, but so far, jobs have been far and few between. And I desperately need to live somewhere where I can be outside, year-round (without the fear of the weather killing me!), so I can shed some of this excess girth. Jolly Giant, I ain't (or don't want to be!).

Enough. No more negativity. I'm gonna let my veggie chicken nuggets dissolve (so far, wreaking curious havoc on my G.I tract), then it'll be time to recline and read a book about New Orleans. Should be a good night. ;-)

Frustrated

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 01:37:00 +0000

I'm chilly, tired, and draped in a killer swatch of ennui.

So far, this winter has been fairly freaking brutal. Not a week into December, and I can't recall the last day it was above freezing. And the city has apparently decided to adopt a bold "do-nothing" strategy when it comes to clearing the streets of snow, making cycling OH SO MUCH FUN.

I'm going back home for Xmas (a lovely 1000 miles southward), but am already pre-dreading the unfortunate return to Chicago after a week being bathed by the sub-tropics.

I rode the Riv on the Lakefront path to work the other day. The trail looked as if the world's largest margarita glass had spilled over, making my way to work a salty, wet, obnoxious slurry. The same can't be said for the actual city streets. All the residual icy bullshit has been heaved into the bike lanes, making us all-year cyclists feel just THAT more marginal than we already might be! And woe to you if you wanna opt for a side street. Those are resplendent in that lovely beige-meets-brown oatmealesque snowmass that does nothing but hide the glacial mess underneath. Super.

I'm gonna sign off 'til tomorrow. Not feeling uber-positive at the moment, and I'm not too keen on clogging the InterWeb with my maudlin negativity.

"Woe to you, O earth and sea...

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 23:43:00 +0000

For the Devil sends the Beast with Wrath."

Not only these the words that presages the vicious guitar salvo of Iron Maiden's "Number of the Beast", but they ably illustrate my fear of more snow in the forecast.

Just substitute "Beast" for "snow", and "Sea" with "Lake Michigan", or maybe even the Chicago River...

Truth be told, Chicago's been pretty damn fortunate to have had a relatively mild Fall; I rode a century comfortably in September, and was riding in shorts (granted, with wool tights underneath) maybe a week or so ago. But when the snow came, it CAME. It arrived like an unwanted load of junk mail that had been on hold, just waiting for its recipients to return from vacation. Blarg.

I guess what really chaps my ass is that these conditions really slice into my weekly regimen, and that lovely padding 'round my middle inflates like a monster truck's (Gravedigger?) tire. I recently dropped a few dimes on some proper wool undergarments, and they have proving ten times their worth over the last few days. So it's not the cold that's daunting. It's the WIND (30 mph on the way back from work); it's the perma-ice that sticks around due to the constant cycle of thaw and re-freeze, making every other block a treacherous glacial odyssey; it's my co-workers constantly asking, "Goddamn! You RODE in this shit?"

Well, that last item's kinda bullshit. Those are the kind of outlooks that keep me rolling through the tundra, despite Old Man Winter, the Abominable Snowman, scores of Yeti, along with Elvis (with Satan riding shotgun) in a '57 Chevy being less than 20 paces behind my fat ass.

Down, but not quite out

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 01:13:00 +0000

Wow. What a year and a half it's been. My RB-1 got wrecked, my best friends all suddenly moved form Chicago (leaving me with approximately 0.0 friends), my grandmother passed away, and I became a self-loathing recluse. Hot fucking action.

Lately, I've realized this part of the country just ain't for me. I'm obstinately hard-wired to revel in warmth and goody outsideness, and with each passing day of below-freezing temps, I get more and more aggravated. I'm still riding, mind you, but in the last week or two, I've seen my weekly mileage cleaved in half!

So the question is: where to go? I went to Seattle and Portland a couple of months ago, and really REALLY dug Portland. It didn't hurt (obviously) that it's quite the bikepicenter, but I also have one of my oldest, dearest friends there. He's the type of guy that you don't see or rarely talk to in years, but can catch up with IMMEDIATELY in a matter of minutes. Great guy.

So as of now, my feelers are out in PDX, Austin TX, or (kinda regrettably) back to N.O. This economic climate isn't exactly conducive to this kinda roll, but screw it. It has to happen.

BTW, I put too much rice in tonight's crawfish etouffee. I'm a bad expatriate. ;-)

Wind, wiildlife, and gastrointestinal distress

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Sat, 14 Apr 2007 21:21:00 +0000

Luckily I didn't stay up too late last night, and was able to wake up at a pretty reasonable hour and get my slow morning burn going. Around 11:15 I left for a jaunt to the North Branch trail. The entrance is roughly 7 miles west of me; there was a mean wind shooting out of the east, so I was able to use it to billow my sails and get to the trail head in record time! This also meant, however, that I was going to have to fight this bastard on the way back home.

About 10 minutes into the trail, I started spying wildlife: young, white-tailed deer (not totally sure of the genus/phylum/species, etc., but they DID have white tails) and they were off to the side of the trail, grazing. There was a French woman with a little dog, and this pooch was going absolutely batshit nuts with all of the deer around. I snapped a pic (I was hoping to get more of the deer, but just managed to basically capture the frenzy of the pup):

But further down the trail, I able to see more and get pretty damn close. I was trying to tread easily so I wouldn't disturb their repast.

But about five miles into the trail, I was met with a mean case of GI distress--was it the pizza of last night coming back to exact revenge? In any event, I felt that I desperately needed my home field advantage, so I scurried back homeward. Of course I was met with the devil eastern wind, and my lower regions were about to go critical mass. By the time I got home, I definitely think atoms were beginning to get split. And I was also met with more wildlife at home:

So, after I dropped off the kids at the pool, I still wanted to be outside (despite the fact that it was in the low '40's and windier than hell). I ended up riding to Performance in Lincoln Park and snagging an on-sale backpack--an item that has been painfully absent for years (HOW DID I LIVE WITHOUT ONE??)--then rode to Jewel and decided to make BBQ ribs at home. All the grocery store items fit wonderfully well into the new backpack. I am digging it. I just hope the ribs don't pound my guts like last night's pizza did!

Enough is enough

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Fri, 13 Apr 2007 23:59:00 +0000

Wow. I think I was seriously sideswiped by seasonal affective disorder--I have been really bitchy and crabby, pretty depressed, and ready to argue at the drop of a hat. My Southern wiring is definitely not used to being overtaken by snow in April. ESPECIALLY after being blessed with a handful of gorgeous Spring-esque days not long ago. And enduring days upon days with no sun and High-Winter dreariness would be enough to make Gandhi kick a sackful of kittens into the Ganges.

In any event, I sincerely pray that the horseshit is over. Even with the typical brute winds of March/April, the "balmy" temps of the low/mid- 50's are enough to assuage my ire. I rode before and after work today, and felt sooo good during both stretches. I think I'm going to start taking the "long way" to work (Irving Park and Ravenswood) via the Lakefront Path and Ohio beach. I forgot how good it felt to take that long, cleansing, head-clearing ride before a day of toil.

P.S. I found out that it's not a ton of fun to ride through Wrigleyville right after a Cubs game lets out. It reminded me of pedaling through Mardi Gras. Just without all the booze, beads and boobs.

Camera phone experiments

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Sat, 31 Mar 2007 22:30:00 +0000

For a cell phone, I find that my lil' toy takes pretty okay-to-below average pictures. However, my unholy command of Photoshop allows me to doctor them enough so's I can upload them and share. So, submitted for your approval, are my latest camerphonepics.

It's barely legible, but I couldn't pass up snapping a pic of a bus with "666" emblazoned on its ass end.

Kiera, my tortoiseshell tabby, resplendent in the midst of my computer room's filth.

Duff, the insanely enormous "classic" tabby sitting in my lap.

Finally, I stopped at the Northern leg of today's jaunt to document the skyline that greets Lake Michigan and the Lakefront trail/Ohio Beach.

The winds off the lake were brutal (go figure), but since our forecast is calling for for days of typically assholish erratic weather, I wanted to be on the bike as long as possible this afternoon. So I rode up to Evanston and dicked about for awhile after I got off the Lakefront trail.

And I also wanted to clear my mind and wrap my head around the fact that I have a blind date tomorrow.....

Camera phone pics

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Sun, 25 Mar 2007 16:49:00 +0000

I had to get a new cell phone not long ago--my first camera phone--but had no way to transfer the images from the phone, other than undergoing an esoteric gauntlet by some third-party vendor. Anyway, the new Macbook has some bluetooth technology that picked up the phone and its contents, so I was able to grab the pics, do some Photoshoppery, and post them here in all of their half-baked glory.

This was taken after I got home from work, fighting what I hope is the last blizzard of the season. This ride was...interesting. Also, this is the state of the 500 before I tweaked it and put a new saddle and other goodies on it.

This is taken on the Lakeshore Path, about 6 miles South of the city. It was difficult to see what I was actually taken a photo of, because the sun glares over the phone's viewscreen.

The new rb-1 on the same route as above. I'm still dialing in/tweaking my position on this one, and loving the hell out of it!

Beseiged by bullshit

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Sun, 25 Mar 2007 16:03:00 +0000

Wow. The last couple of weeks has handed me an extraordinary heaping of nonsense. Between the schitzo weather and various failures/outages of my lifeline-electronic equipment, I WAS just about at my wit's end.

Apparently I have offended the Heavens, because I have been handed the trifecta of bullshit! ;)

First, it was the Comcast outage; it turned out that they had erroneously shut me down, requiring a technician to head out and flip a switch! BUT...then my building decided to have a "No Electricity" day on last Friday--the very day said tech person was slated to come to my apt. AND...when I tried to turn my computer on to get it ready for the appointment....NOTHING. My old G4 had decided to give up the ghost--which I found quite suspicious as it was working fine in the morning. Power surge, maybe? Oh GOOD LORD. What next?

So, I decided to forego good sense and just buy a new Mac on saturday--all signs have actually been pointing to getting a new computer--but I still had no Internet
connection. After getting home with the macbook, I waited from 1 until 6PM, and then when I contacted Comacast, they said the tech had the wrong number and I'd have to reschedule for the next Tuesday. Holy shit!!!!

Well, the Comcast guy came out right on time on Tuesday. Apparently the Company had felt my ire and waived any fees for Internet installation. And the connection came up again, right as rain.

So a week went by, and then, this last Wednesday, I started feeling the pangs of sickness. And over the course of the next several days (and even now on the Sunday) I was bowled over by the worst Goddamned cold I have ever had. I was blowing my nose so much that my entire face was unholy chafed and raw by Friday; i had to find an expendable cotton t-shirt to fill the bill afterwards. So couple that with the wet, grey days Chicago had last week, I crept into a funky, oh-woe-is-me depression.

Yesterday was the first day I felt remotely human so I decided to grab the cold and "ride it off" (think quasi-soccer coach speak). It felt great for the first mile; but there was a palpable wall of frigidity that I rode into, not far from the Lake. I saw another rider at Ardmore and Sheridan and we were marvelling over the ridiculous 10 degree drop. But after acclimating to it, it truly wasn't all that bad.

After I got about 15 miles south of home, I decided to turn around. BUT the winds decided to shift to the NE, and kicked up the densest freaking fog I have ever ridden through. My latent chest congestion was not amused with the wet cold air, so I broke off from the Lake and rode through town for a pretty uneventful trek back North.

It was a pretty miserable crawl--I was physically not quite up for a 30 miler, I guess--but still glad I ws able to grab some 2-wheeled reverie for more than a 20 minute commute to work.

Tickle my ass with a feather, why dontcha?

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Fri, 09 Mar 2007 23:40:00 +0000

I already wrote about my quasi-cyclocross (HARDLY!!) morning freakout, but I have more on my mind than icy paths.

I watched the mercury climb all day long, reaching an exciting apex of 55 degrees Fahrenfuckinheit!! Positively sweltering. So I decided I was gonna leave work early and grab some road around town. I walked to Popeye's for lunch to soak a little of the nice weather in (and I had the crave for some red beans and rice), and to reaffirm my need to leave work early. I went to the bike rack in the work building, saw my bike, and ominously declared, "patience, my pet...."

It didn't help that there wasn't much to do at work, either. We through out a big-assed web site update yesterday, so the bulk of my load had been spent. So I had a lot of time to prowl the 'net, and monitor the weather. Well, the forecast pretty quickly changed from a semi-sunny, early Spring paradise scenario, to 80% chance of rain! The radar showed that Chicago was already under the "mean green" of precipitation bands, so I decided that I might as well leave. I hate riding in the rain, especially during rush hour...especially during rush hour on a Friday!

I am going to ask the Weather Channel to upgrade their equipment. They got the rain part right, but how was I to know that the forecast also called for a 99% chance of assholery on the road? Goddamn. I saw drivers almost cleave pedestrians in two, trying to squeeze every iota out of the short green lights. And some woman yelled at me in the Jewel parking lot, after WALKING IN FRONT OF ME, ALMOST HITTING ME, and NOT LOOKING ANYWHERE AROUND HER. These factors didn't help my frustration, let alone the behind-one-eyeball headachey pressure I've been cultivating all day. And my bike, lovingly cleaned off after a couple of days of filth, is again road-spattered by filth. So it goes.

Jesus H. Christ. Just give me one dry, above freezing day, Chicago. I promise I'll stop adding curse words into the lexicon if you grant me this small, painless boon.

Or stop tickling my ass with a feather and stay consistent, ye gods of weather!!!

(Which is about as unlikely as me stoppin' cussin'.)

Morning cyclocross

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Fri, 09 Mar 2007 23:32:00 +0000

I am writing this after the fact, and a lot of my ire has simmered down. But in any event, I feel compelled to chronicle.

Today's forecast called for an seemingly improbable mid-50's day (55 at this writing) after a prolonged, wet, turbulent winter. At last! So I decided I was going to rise relatively early and grab some miles on the Lakefront Trail. I hadn't been on it in a while; the last visit to the trail was marred by sheets of ice and vast, impassable (by bike, at least) stretches. Well, the path was actually WORSE between Ardmore and Foster, no thanks, I imagine, to the constant, wet/thaw/refreeze nightmare that has characterized the last couple of months. After fishtailing on a seemingly inocuous swath of ice last time on the trail, I decided to play it safe on thee areas. However, when I was walking myself and the bike over a perilous stretch (I am imaging myself as Admiral Byrd...this might help you visualize), I completely ate shit and spilled out sideways! Luckily neither the bike nor I were damaged much, so I was able to continue.

I guess I was getting so frustrated this morning because I wanted a nice, easy reverie with the new bike. I wasn't in to dodging frozen weather and such nonsense. But in the grand scheme of things, a stilted, awkward ride is always better than no ride at all.

Where the hell did time go??

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Fri, 09 Mar 2007 02:30:00 +0000

Damn! I knew I've been putting off writing for a bit, but when I saw that my last entry into ye olde blogue was in the last week of February, it all sunk in. I've been pretty captivated by the new bike. I was able to put it together at work--I brought some tools and lube--and ride it back home. From the get-go, the ride was pretty damned sweet; it seemed effortless, not twitchy, yet was able to feel spry under my ample load.

With the exception of the Brooks I threw on (replacing the white Avocet), the RB appears to be totally stock. And in better condition than I thought an 18 year old bike from eBay would be in. The GPX componentry is pretty slick, and the downtube accushifts still "click." It's novel, I suppose, but I am actually NOT used to indexing any more. I guess I'll let the levers click until they eventually wear out (familiar syndrome on all my bikes since the mid-'90's). So I have been trying to ride the bike as much as possible, despite this lingering asshole fucking wet shit winter, so I can get a feel for it and make tweaks where appropriate.

One off-putting item that came with the bike was (my best estimation) a 150mm stem; the head tube and stack height is pretty decent with the bike, and at max. height, the stem is a little under an inch from the saddle. After riding it for a while, I was feeling telltale signs of a too-long stem. I ended up buying a Kalloy stem from a place in Evanston during one of my "getting acquainted" jaunts. However, when I got home, it seemed that the stem had TOO MUCH rise/angle, so I looked for more options.

THEN I realized I had my Ritchey Force stem from my XO-1. So after work on Monday, uber stoked and ready to get my hands dirty, I took the old wrap off the RB's handlebars, removed the rear brake lever, slipped the bars out, then placed the Ritchey into the head tube....then realized I was missing the binder bolt!!! GODDAMN. Luckily I had some extra bar tape lying around, so I put the old stem back on, re-rewrapped the bars, and resigned myself to taking care of the stem conundrum the next day.

Long story short: the new stem is in place, the fore/aft of the saddle is still being tweaked, and I am re-evaluating my seat height. But along the way, I am loving like crazy the new addition to the flock. And the yellow bar tape along with the red frame finish has a kinda ironic McPaint scheme going. And I better finalize my tweaking and positioning soon, lest the other bikes feel I am cheating on 'em!

Window shopping and filthy saddles

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Thu, 22 Feb 2007 13:42:00 +0000

I was scouring craigslist, the general so-called "Inter-Net", and eBay yesterday morning. My buddy across the street has decided to buy a bike, but his finances are really slim. What he would spend on a spankin' new bike might be better served on finding a decent used one. So I was elected bikexpert by default, and was given the task of hunting down a proper ride for him.

He also is kind of intigued bt BOBishness, and knows fullwell my affinity for Bridgestones. He asked me to find him a MB of some caliber; I had to let him down, telling him they are no longer made, and finding one for "a song" can be easier said than done. So, when I hit eBay at 7AM and plugged into the Cycling area, then typed in Bridgestone for the search criteria, something WONDROUS came up. It was the first day of its listing:

An all-original (as far as I can tell) 59cm 1989 RB-1. The BIN price was absurdy reasonable. You might can figure what happened next. It arrives next Tuesday....

When I told my friend about it, he rightly replied "What the HELL is wrong with you??" I didn't have much a defense. However, this forces my hand to either sell some of the flock, or ship some bikes to new orleans so I can have bikes to rides when visiting. Space is becoming a premium in my wee apartment.

Yesterday I went for a ride in the balmy high-40's afternoon. I left work due to some impending stomach distress, thinking I didn't want to reach Critical mass at work...if you dig my drift. After riding the nastiness out, I washed down my poor filthy 500 and hit the road. Just barely down the melting snow mass filth of the Lakefront Trail, i realized I had forgotten to put my rear fender back on! Needless to say, my ass/backside was spackled with filhy grit, along with the new saddle! I had read that Proofide should be applied to the underside if one rides without fenders; I took it for granted that the fender would be there, so I didn't do so.

Good old Cycle Smithy allowed me to pop by, clean off the saddle, and apply a touch o' the goodness to the Brooks. It's feeling pretty nice, by the way, but I was getting unholy paranoid that drenching it with filth is nothing but shitty for it. But so far, so good.

(my) BIKE DAY 2007!

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Wed, 21 Feb 2007 01:54:00 +0000

First off, I hafta extend a hearty Happy Mardi Gras to everyone---even if the vast majority on the planet, let alone New Orleans, has no idea what it means. Today is Fat Tueday and NO is celebrating its 151st Mardi Gras, and I got pretty forlorn at one point today.

These Blues were mitigated by the morning's commute and the luscious HIGH THIRTY DEGREE weather. I didn't even have to wear my synthetic Ninja mask that has become my second skin under my helmet during these arctic travels. It's really amazing when you have to look forward to literally FREEZING weather. Whoa. And riding in 15+ MPH winds during the last several months has apparently made me a beast; winds today were almost non-existent and I was keeping up with traffic on Clark both before and after work.

Then I found out that ComEd was going to shut our office's power down early in the afternoon, leaving us all to "work from home", or to just fuck off and have a proper afternoon freakout. I had ALREADY chosen the latter when I spied the package on my desk:

THE B-17 HAD ARRIVED EARLY.

Included in the package was a reallll sweet personal touch: someone had caught Mardi Gras beads and threw some in the Brooks box, along with a description of all things pre-Lenten revelry. It was a killer swing that I, as a former New Orleanian, found touching. That, along with an early delivery, has cemented Wallingford a place in my heart. AGAIN...I can't believe that I never knew of the shop when I lived there.

I got back to my place at 3PM, put my new saddle on (I didn't buy any Proofide, however), and set off to feel the magic. I stopped by the Brit's place so I could prod him to ride--he REALLY needed it--and we headed a short distance to Wrigleyville and Johnny O'Hagan's. After a few adjustments, I was feeling nothing but fine on top of the saddle and and am totally looking forward to tickling my ass with this sweet leather feather.

HOWEVER: I keep reading conflicting ways to expedite the Brooks break-in process. Sheldon suggests total saddle submergence; but I've read equal amounts of E-wisdom that profess no pre-treatment! Can anyone offer any nuggets o' good before I fuck up yet another nice piece of bikequipment?

So it is done

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Fri, 16 Feb 2007 02:19:00 +0000

With a steady income comes an ability to indulge my lust (or is it need?) of all things bikey. Just a few months ago, a fender seemed like a total indulgence; now I see it as a necessity. Riding in semi-frozen filth bilge for the last several days has amply proven that point.

The XO's lovely stock Avocet saddle--now 15 years old and having supported my ample bottom for well over 15000 miles and through every possible weather condition (sans earthquake)--is looking tired. Is there retirement age for a saddle? It certainly still fells great, but I feel it should be relegated to a bike that has less attention focused upon it. Time to stave off the inevitable decay. I may slap it on the 500, then take its old Avocet Touring model and put it on the Bianchi; the Touring saddle is beset by awkward asspaddery. And I feel that I'll RARELY ride the Bianchi.

I knew today that it was time for a new saddle. And I knew, from poring through countless testimonials of a Brooks saddle's goodness (my own stepfathers' testimonial when I was young counted for a ton!), that I would have one. So, now that I have been blessed with the victory of PayDay, it has been done.

I was going to go to Wallingford during my last visit home and express total shock that I had NEVER been there during my many years of New Orleans residency! In lieu of that, I ordered my honey B-17 Champion Special from there. I found cheaper versions online, but GODDAMN do I feel a mad fealty toward a kickass New Orleanian bike shop. But I really do wish I could've dropped by in person! What's a few extra bills to help support a lovely shop operating out of the ashes of Atlantis?

But I like to spread the love around. There is a mad flutter for some offerings I've spied at Hiawatha....

(Holy K-righst, if only that bike were BIGGER!!)

Blizzard biking!

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Tue, 13 Feb 2007 22:51:00 +0000

I thought yesterday's ride was challenging; little did I know that I'd be just foolhardy enough to dismiss today's forecast and actually bike through a blizzard!

I picked up a rear fender after work last night-one I can take from bike to bike. I don't have, or really want a dedicated commuter/filthy conditions bike, so I figured this was a good purchase. And I also figured that if today was indeed gonna be a mess, then I at least wanted my sweet ass to be dry at work. And I meticulously cleaned the poor XO after yesterday's jaunt, so I wanted her to be resplendent in cleanliness for at least a day.

So my option for lunacy was riding the 500 to work. I'm not as suave on this bike, but am slowly getting a "feel" for it. However, since the 27" wheels are pretty shot, I set up the 700c's and adjusted the brakes accordingly. Luckily, the pads extended enough. The chief drawback was that these wheels were from the Bianchi, and are running 700x23 tires....not exactly conducive to crushing my enemies (or at least snow and slush) beneath me. At the same time, I didn't feel wobbly, and was really enjoying the feel of the bike today. I don't really know if the difference in wheel diameter really made all that much difference, or if it's because I raised the stem up about a half inch; the fact is that the 500 was a TOTAL RIOT this morning...well until it overshifted and got the chain stuck between the frame and the freewheel. UGH!! THAT was a blast to fix in the inclement conditions.

So, if getting to work was met with little obstacle, going FROM was a different story. Over the course of the day I noticed that the wind had really picked up (over 40 mph) and the torrential snow seemed horizontal! I managed to leave a little early, but the street the office is on--readily passable at 9 AM--was a slushy gauntlet that I had to walk the bike through. That kinda blew, but at least I was outside and heading homewards. And when I finally managed to get on a pedal-able route, the chain was skipping like hell over the freewheel (differential wear from chain and freewheel?); the powergrips were all wet and mucked up, making them really difficult to slip in to; and as I would pass a wide intersection, the NE winds would cleave right in to me and threaten to knock me over fuckwards. At least there was more road for me to claim at 2:15, without having to watch my back constantly for crazed, sliding cars.

In under 2 years of living here, this may be the most snow I've seen fall in one day. There was a considerable amount that fell between 9 and 2, and it looks like the shit is not gonna let up. I think today I may have become that "nutjob" I used to envy when I was trapped in my car and would see that lone intrepid cyclist forging through conditions that would have (formerly) made me soil my underoos by just thinking about them!

That being said.....If I'm gonna continue riding through these kind of conditions (and I pray this ends soon), I want a MF-ing TANK. Not Army issue, mind you, but a fat-tired, fully fendered, bombproof, all-condition ASSHOLE.

P.S. I had to snap a pic of the bike after today's ride. It looks like Saquatch! It's on my phone currently, but whenever I figger how to transfer to the Mac, I'll get it posted. It's a fun shot.

Quite a successful Saturday

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Mon, 12 Feb 2007 00:32:00 +0000

I was INEXPLICABLY hung over when I got up yesterday morning. I recall not drinking much at all with the New Orleanian gang Friday night, but also remembered not eating much substantive at all during the day. We went to some Cheesedick Lincoln Square joint before attempting to go bowling, and I had to opt out of the awesomely outrageous artichoke dip and jalapeno poppers in lieu of (luckily--the only saving grace) hand-cut fries and tatar sauce. I was a Goddamn paradigm of health, I tell you.

So when I got up on Saturday feeling like a belt sander had taken me forcefully in the mind and mouth, the prospects of my trip to West Town Bikes started to look fairly dim. BUT, around 1:45 PM, I finally managed to get my jive together, run to the LBS for handlebar wrap, and head down Damen toward the shop. Nothing like a little two-wheeled penance to get one's shit together. The going was unholy sloooow on Damen, yet made the typically strong western winds an iota more bearable.

West Town Bikes was cool as hell. There were several workstations that one could grab, mount a bike to a stand, utilize all the tools at the shop's disposal (a real wealth of groovy stuff!), and pick any and all persons in attendance's brains for info/advice/whatnot. Good thing, too, because I had absolutely NO experience in dicking with adjusting/removing bar-end shifters; between all those in attendance (THANK YOU Anatoly and Squeeky!!), I managed to get the deed done! The deed being removing my old stem and putting the Nitto Technomic in its stead, and getting the moustache bars back in line. It was tricky going for a while, but in the grand scheme of things I feel like I learned a freaking TON. I am definitely gonna go back and check out all the classes that they're offering.

It was dark when I decided to take off; in the interest of time, I held off re-wrapping the bars. Even with lights, paranoia is the law when I ride through Chicago at night. But I got on the wrapping trail this morning, went out for a spin, and was unholy battered by cold and wind! Goddamnit. I am sincerely tired of bitching about the wind, yet I am in total awe of a force that so profoundly impacts the quality of my rides.

Sorry. I had to go see the Police play "Roxanne" on the Grammys. I was excited, but I've definitely seen/heard better performances from them. I still am excited about their upcoming tour. Being a heavy metal/punk ronk knucklehead in the '80's was a prohibitive barrier toward seeing any music with a modicum of class!

Back to the bike! Last night, the Technomic went on with almost no sweat, was raised it to its amazing, extended glory, the bars were adjusted accordingly, and headed home. Hrm. it wasn't quite the epiphany I was looking for! But when I saw the new setup after today's ride, I noticed that the Nitto bar has a (more or less) negative rise, whereas the Ritchey Force stem has what appears to be a neutral rise; this meant--to me at least--that I needed to get the Nitto up quite a bit higher than if I were raising the Ritchey (if it had some amazing stem length!) the same amount.

So currently it looks like the Nitto has about 5 inches exposed from of the head tube; I'm gonna ride the XO to work tomorrow to see if it seems any more comfortable. If nothing else, the sucker sure is purty.

Strange soreness, lovely addictions, and more!

noreply@blogger.com (Core) — Sat, 10 Feb 2007 00:25:00 +0000

Far fuckin' out.

For some reason, my legs feel like they have been pummeled by the fists of an angry midget (Wait! In this PC clime, I mean DWARF). And I have no accounting for it! These last two weeks have seen my average mileage plummet, and I tend to not push the Hell out of myself during the commute. Granted, the wind is strong and pretty brutal and my body hasn't ridden in temperatures above 15 degrees in a Helluva long time, but I am wondering if these current conditions are really the culprit.

So, I spied a semi-new Columbus-tubed Univega frame on Craigslist today for a pretty reasonable cost. at the same time, I hafta ask myself: do I NEED another bike. Um, well NO. Yet, do I WANT one? (Sheepishly): YES. Goddamn! Woohoo! ANOTHER addiction. ;) But I saw it coming. I make okay money, the first time I can say that in my adult life, and I think I'd rather spend a modest amount of money on groovy bike gear than I would on a MacBook (which i really DO need!). My co-workers often notice me prowling Craigslist bike pages, and often offer. "J, didn't you just BUY a new bike??" Damn how these beautiful creatures get inta your blood like this! :)

Finally, I am thinking about heading to West Town Bikes tomorrow. They're offering a experience-led maintenance workshop (12-7 PM) for a donation, and I think it may be the best forum to put my new stem and handlebar wrap on. And with the sultry conditions that the wizened, precognizant meteorologists are foretelling, it'd be a real crime not to take full advantage of this. 2 years in Chicago, and I am sick of saying "WHY DIDN'T I DO THAT????" No more, I tell ye!

And this year, I am NOT gonna miss Body Worlds again.