. . . the “Sponsor” has other ideas for us. When was the last time that you heard of a “Sponsor” telling her racers not to race? We, me and the spawn, just heard that. It appears that she has some things she needs taken care of other than racing. Where are your priorities, woman? Oh, well. Agro and his spawn are out and about and assualting the 916. We wish you well, boys and sorry we can’t be there to share with you.

Toying with hitting the Golden Gate Park race next weekend, though I am taking Wednesday off for a long one with Pablo and I am attending the “Appetite Seminar”, or Turkey Day Ride on Pine Mountain on, yup, Turkey Day. So, like I said, it’s up in the air.

Me and Spawn-Boy are gonna try to get out later – let you know we do.

Bummed We Are Not Racing Today,

All hail El Feo Negro. . .

Well, me and Captain Agro took the spawn to Livermeore and all four of us got our race on. Mine took 4th in his age group, Agro’s fifth, Agro won his cat again and I finished uncomfortably somewhere betweeen 1st and last. Me and mine had a wedding to attend and we had to leave before results were posted and they are not online yet. I can say this, my best race this year but, and there is always a but, that doesn’t mean the result will be good. But when I know I will post. Proud of all four of us. and that’s only the half of it cause all four of us are racing in Sacto on Sunday. And I am cooked now.

Oh, and I have to say hanging with Agro and the respective spawn for a weekend of racing has been a fucking blast so far and we only half done.

Sorry for the short post and I will get back tomorrow night with the goods from the Sacto race. I can only imagine how I will feel then.

9th place for me, in a thin field but a top 10 nonetheless. . .

Sipping a glass of red and going to bed,

WHAT I AM GONNA DO WITH MY LOTTO WINNINGS:
(when I get em)

• Payoff all debt
• Gut and remodel house
• Chill in Hawaii while the house is being remodeled
• Put in a pool
• Buy house in Tahoe and or Bolinas
• New bikes
• Did I mention new bikes
• Fully fund 420wear into a monster brand
• Drive 420wear RV to cross races
• Buy the sponsor some bling
• Can you say 1967 Ford Mustang?
• Smoke hella dank
• Swamp Chicken anyone?

These are just a few of the things I would do,

You?

My sorry ass fell asleep last night at 5:30. This swine flu really is kicking my ass. I don’t get sick. Period. But, and there is always a but, this influenza really has taken all my energy. I mean I have been sleeping any and every chance I get. That’s not saying I didn’t ride. I rode. Two hours. Tam. Chilly chill in the chilly chill. I took some pictures, got a little workout in, got a little sideways, met some cat and rode with him for a touch and motored on home. I then had a bite to eat and crawled in bed with my littlest little and fell straight to sleep. Felt so good. I don’t but the sleep did.

Me and the eldest spawn are stoked for this weekend. We are heading over to team-mate and friend Captain Agro’s and spending the night Friday night (he lives like 15 minutes from the race venue), racing Saturday (both team-mates and both spawn) and then hitting up my buddie’s wedding Saturday afternoon and then heading back and resting for Sunday’s race. I have not raced double days in like 16 years and the prospect has me feeling a lot less like a fucking poser. At this point, with one full race under my belt this season, I am just gonna get out there and get after it and hope to finish in the front third of the pack, unless I am feeling especially scrappy. We shall see. Got a shit load of errands to run this afternoon to get ready for a full weeekend but I do plan on getting out on the SS 29er this afternoon for an hour session of pain threshold testing.

That turkey had never seen a jackass before,

Dude, I saw these three trail weasels (coyotes to me and you) fighting over some sort of carion this afternoon while out riding. I took the Singlespeed 29er out for a lung/leg searing jaunt and came upon these scudbottom coyotes fighting over this rise, in broad daylight like some thugs from the hood. I was like 25 feet away and they heard me shit myself, turned, looked and growled at me and made off over the next rise like they were caught lying to a priest. Pretty freaky really, even though I could have taken all of them at once. Pussies ran, right? Then I huffed it up this hill and the tincture taste filled my throat right before the dry heaves hit and the cold sweat poured down my ass crack like Victoria Falls. Then I got my second wind and hit up Old Man Metallica’s fence, pissed all over the locking mechanism (or did I?) and turned it and ripped it on home. The taint part, well, I just really like that word and, plus, the illiteration is always a nice fucking touch.

Had a blast on the SS 29er today. In other news – The Bike God (singular) smiled on me today but I will go into that later. Let’s just suffice it to say that it’s way cool and I am way lucky and way thankful.

Riding the cross rig manana with some pain in mind. I sure hope this sore thraot thingy goes away soon. Oh, well.

And I decided no to lambast Mike’s Bikes of San Rafael today because they suck so much ass. Aren’t I sweet?

Rain, Rain Come Today and Stay Here for a Few More Days,

So, yesterday, Monday, was a day of introspection, retrospection and futurespection (I know that’s not a real word). As I was out front of Casa De Rider washing and prepping the sleds for a week’s worth of shreddage I had what some alcoholics call a moment of clarity; I missed standing up and honking a bike up a nasty dirt climb. Now I can do that on the cross bike, the single speed and any other bike I want to but what I am truly getting at is I want a hard tail. A good old fashioned (new fashion 29er) hardtail. Now I am not talking about some 19 year old hottie – I am talking about some 19 pound hussy that’s likes to be pushed around and thrown around and manfuckinghandled. I am talking about the bike above. I love a Gary Fisher bike. AND THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL I WILL BUY ONE FROM MIKE’S BIKES BECAUSE THEY ARE A HACK SHOP. I loved my Sugar, the geometry and I may not have ridden any bike as fast as that one, though I was younger and faster and ballsier then but oh, well.

As of right now, instead of buying a new dually, I seriously intend on getting myslef a Superfly and keeping the Cannoncrap for the sketchier rides.

Busy week this week: riding the cross or the SS 29er today, whichever of the previous I don’t ride today I am riding tomorrrow, riding the MTB Thursday and Friday and I am racing cross both Saturday and Sunday.

May the force be with you. And also with you. Ahem.

Got Some Onya?

Got out with the J-Bird this morning for what turned out to be a nice little jaunt, outside of the flat tire, that is. Mine. The flat tire, I mean. Drinking. Smoking. Football. Riding. Chicken tenders. Spawn. And I really need to wash the sleds.

J-Bird and me hit up the camp. Rode at a nice an easy pace and smiled and bonded with the sunshine. Then I got a fucking flat. Then I broke my tire lever. Then I swore like a truck driver. Then I finally fixed that shit and we finished our ride with aplomb. Now, here I sit lonely hearted tried to shit but only farted. Well, as far as I can tell, MIKE’S BIKES SUCKS ASS.

Tomorrow is another day, and I know for sure I will play. Ride my bike with speed so fast, you can surely kiss my ass. Clean and tight so that it whistles, hope i don’t sit on some thistles.

My spawn just told me this blog was wrong, gonna go hit up the bong.

Rant: Mike’s Bikes of San Rafael may be the worst bike shop ever. I called Friday morning to see if they had the bushings in stock to replace my worn out ones on my rear shock. Yup, I was told. Bring her in we can slap those right on I was told. I did. Got the bike back in an hour. I was stoked, stoked to have my bike back, rear end felt tight, didn’t check the work. Paid. They charged me for labor. I have the 5-year no labor plan but I was so pleased that I got my bike back I paid it anyway. Got home, checked the work. Dude put a 0.39 cent washer on there. That’s it. And charged me. Fucking weak. Shittiest shop ever. Once I get my money back I will never, ever spend another dime in that shit hole again. And I am gonna make it my chore to make sure others know what a hack shop it is. How should it have been handled? Like this. Dude, thought we had the bushings and didn’t so I slapped a washer in there for now and orederd the parts. I will call you when the part gets here and fix it directly. No no you don’t have to pay for the FUCKING 39 CENT WASHER I SLAPPED IN THERE, SERIOUSLY.

Mental Note: wrenchonyourownfuckingbike

That’s the rant now for the ride. Oh, and did I mention Mike’s Bikes of San Rafael sucks ass?

Ride: Mill Valley in the cool cool cool of the morning, rife and misty with fog. Four men and their steeds and a date with some sweet ass legal singletrack. We climbed the grade post haste, shot some pics with the new camera. Saw a whole grip of others, some friend some foe, and turned around and headed down and across to the trail that is Tenderfoot. So awesome. All I can say, that and why don’t I ride that more? I am gonna. Look at that FRESH trail above – FRESH.

I was gonna ride Diablo with Agro today but the kid’s never ending football season has equipment return midday today, and the sponsor has to pick up a friend at the airport. So I am gonna ride with J-Bird at China Camp ina bit, return the equipment and then take the littles out to Bolinas and go tide pooling.

Later for you,

The picture above is my oldest spawn carrying the football. He usually plays line and linebacker and defensive end but he had been working so hard the coaches rewarded him by letting him carry the ball. That, my people, is what life is all about: hard work, diligence, uexpected rewards and recognition. The boy handled it well and made me proud, makes me proud everyday. Shit, 2 carries and 19 yards – little man put all of the NFL backs to shame.

Well, his season is over and it is now “ME” time. I have compiled a list of the races I plan on attending beginning the weekend after this – football banquet (does football really ever end) plus I am sick as a dog.

Agro and I are hitting up El Diablo this Sunday for some good time suffering on the fat tires, which I may add I am looking forward to. It’s Friday, breakfast burrito Friday, so I must go. Oh, but I did ride yesterday, rode up the Spansih Steps and felt like absolute taint until, until, about 3 blocks from the casa de rider I launched these 2 awesome snot misssiles that fairly popped upon exiting, one from each nostril, and opened up my breathing a ton.

Nearly forgot to mention that while waiting at a stoplight on yesterday’s ride there was this, um, sophisticated woman held up at the same light. She was wearing a sweet brown sweatcido and out for a run, or I assumed as she was stretching her hammy on the curb while she spoke to me. I was sitting there all cool and shit sporting the 420wear kit and had the iPod on and had to ask her to repeat herself and this is what she said, “That is a very nice outfit you have on. Very nice. Classy for workout wear,” and she nodded emphatically – just sayin’.

Getting out today and tomorrow and the next day.

See you out there,

LARPD #6 11/21/2009
Sac Cross #3 11/22/2009
BASPS #4 GG Park 11/29/2009
CXSR #2 12/05/2009
BASPS #5 CCCP 12/06/2009
LARPD #8 12/12/2009
Surf City Cyclocross #4 12/20/2009
Velo Promo #2 12/26/2009
Velo Promo #3 12/27/2009
CXSR #3 01/09/2010
Surf City Cyclocross #5 01/10/2010
Peak Season Cyclocross 01/24/2010

I love this little slice of heaven. From my house, which resides to the left and over the second ridge (counting the ridable one in the forefront), the green one with the trees and such, I can climb 1200 feet, rip this little bitch, climb another 700 feet, rip another little singletracky bitch and then home in just over an hour.

Not a bad day. You?