Non-interbike Vegas Adventures

One word, well two, The Pixies. Quite possibly the most un-douchey place in Vegas on a Saturday night. I was very comfortable in my surroundings, but I will admit we sat in the balcony. You see I am getting older and the crowds tend to get me unnerved, and I suffer from a wee bit of anger issues. Yes I am guilty of clocking a drunk hooch with my elbow at a Mason Jennings concert. Mason's Midwestern crooning sent me into a fit of rage I guess. So the Pixies were a very good night for me. Sorry to my hubby though, I owe him a Slipknot or Godsmack concert. Take two vicadin and a shot of Nyquil and throw me over your shoulder when it's over. Just kidding I would suffer just like he did, whoops, not suffer, enjoy him enjoying the show like he did me.

Oooh, the Hoochie Beacon

Throughout Vegas there is a breed of creature that roams in packs. You can find them up and down the strip and in most casinos. They are female but they are on average over 6 feet tall, due to their 8 inch heels they wobble about on. They have a similar odor that becomes stronger as the night wears on. It's a mix of Vodka and a pint of perfume. Toward the morning this smell turns into one of two. Vomit is one and, well, if it's not vomit that means she got lucky and that's a whole other story.

Like I said, I'm not the Vegas type, I wanted to run for the hills, literally. Look at this cake topper for instance, I guess this would be classy enough for the typical Vegas wedding cake since their Mamas and Pops couldn't get someone to cover for them at the Piggly Wiggly.

Thank God our hotel had a place where I could escape the hoochies and douchey frat boys. I tell myself every time I leave that I'm going to read my Poker for Idiots book so I'll have something worthwhile to do and invest my money more wisely. Instead of wasting it on slot machines, DAMN you Sex in the City machines! Let's just say I lost enough money to buy a Rapha jersey and a pair of bib shorts, and quite possibly a hat. But I have to say the time spent with family and my loved one was priceless.

Interbike is my Daycare, Vegas part 2

Shhh, I touched it.

Real quick before we begin, I want to say something. Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it's been 12 days since my last ride, here comes the bad part, this morning I rode a stationary bike at the gym. (It's so humid and I still have sciatica) 24 hail Fausto's and a hill sprint workout tomorrow.

That ain't Trek

OK, Vegas Part 2, I know these are smaller companies and are of the handbuilt variety but I really would of liked to see their wares. Pegoretti was supposed to be there but I couldn't find him, after searching for 20 minutes I gave up. Cross my fingers they might be at at the frame builders show in San Diego. Here's a few I would of liked to see:

-Ira Ryan

-Parlee

-Independent Fabrication

-Seven Cycles

I blame Rapha for my longing to see these beautiful beasts, they romanticise riding hand built quality bikes, you can't help but be sucked into it all. Speaking of Rapha, where were they? It's probably better, my wishlist is up to $750.00. The less I can see and touch of theirs the better.

Now my list for happy time feelings:

-Yakima for my free socks and for answering my retarded questions

-Surley for the centaur boy (see top picture)

-Pashley for the English beauties

-Moots for just being Moots

-Lezyne for answering other retarded questions

-the print media for saving me $40 on magazines

-Fizik for chit chatting with me even though I wanted to tell you your shoes belong in a bowling alley

-last but not least, Canari for the Disco Ho's, I'm sure there mama's were proud of them.

Thank you to Cyclery USA (Redlands) and thank's to all who took time to answer my questions and giving me the time of day. You will not be forgotten when I become a huge cycling warlord.

Interbike was my Daycare, Vegas Part 1

My perfect photo would of had me sprawled out under interbike

First of all, I want to thank my LBS for slipping me a pass, and a big apology to my hubby for not being able to get him one. Although he was able to sneak in the last hour on Thursday, he probably saw everything he wanted. He's not the bike nerd I am. I had a close call picking up my pass holder, the older lady asked for my ID which wasn't even close to the name on my pass. I believe she saw the fear and despair in my eyes after she asked. She told me it was OK as I was slowly fumbling around in my wallet mumbling Harry Potter spells to change my name on my driver's license. Needless to say I made it in. My family was laughing at me because besides interbike I have no reason being in Vegas, I won't go into the various reasons, but the joke was I was being dropped off at daycare while they went to the Wynn to gamble. Fine with me.

Contador's custom paint job

Since I was an interbike virgin I had no idea what it was going to be like. I had a different objective than most of the people there. I wasn't there trying to make a deal, sell, or schmooze. I was there to take it in and see if the bike industry could handle me and my line of bike goodies someday. The answer was mixed, but I came out saying yes, but it's gonna take some hard work. That being said I had a very good time zig-zagging each and every row, making sure not to miss anything. I'm a picky bike nerd and I have issues with certain bike company's due to past experiences with test riding them. But when I saw Andy, AC, and Spartacus' rides in the Specialized booth I had to go and ogle.

That was the best until I saw Andy's bike at the Zipp/SRAM booth. I'd seen the bike in various media forms and I was giddy to see it in person. I made sure to control my giddiness because I think I might of lost a little bit of my dignity when I saw Chavanel's bike at the Eddy Merckx booth. I was proud of the froggy's this year at the tour, it restored my faith in French cycling. I just hope none of them read this, if one of you do, I apologize.

In tomorrow's blog we delve into random sights, visits, and who was missing at interbike, stayed tuned.

Douche de Jour

I was looking through the latest Road magazine and I came across this Assos ad.

DOUCHE DE JOUR

Now I've seen their ads before, I've even looked on their website a time or two and every time I see their models and layout one word comes to mind, douche. I know they make quality gear and they've raised the standard of cycling gear, but their shorts make you have camel-toe. So what is Assos thinking when they come up with these ads. Yes cyclists occasionally take breaks and lounge in the sun but do they do it while wearing Mickey Mouse gloves and a beanie(white even) over their Euro Blu-Blockers' temple pieces. They need to take a lesson from Rapha, amazing, Italians need to take a lesson from the Brit's about fashion. Actually I just wrote that in hopes that someone from Rapha might read this and want to send me a care package.(size small, xsmall gloves)

I know this doesn't involve cycling, but in other douche related news, I was at the bank and this Scion drives up the wrong way. What first caught my eye was the ginormous Chanel sticker, where would someone procure such an item and why. Then I realized they parked in not one but two handicapped places. The final thing that got me was the amount of time they took using the ATM, at least 5 minutes. It was a girl, in Dickies, no Chanel in sight, and her little Asian-man-boy servant. Well, my tick off buzzer just went off, thank you for your time.

September Doldrums

Welcome to the September Doldrums. That time of year when you just want a morning ride with temps below 68 degrees. Ah, who am I kidding I just want to use some embrocation. Even though I didn't have too good a luck with my last jar. It was from a company that sounds similar to Angry Chemistry. I used it and loved it the first few times, it smelled magical and made my legs feel all toasty and loose. But, then the last few times I used it I got a rash on my legs. I know it was from the embrocation because it went from the top of my sock line to the bottom of my shorts. Plus it made me itch, like in that Little Rascals episode. Needless to say I've been doing research looking for new non-itchy gam lube.

While waiting for September to pass I've been having childhood flashbacks while riding. Remember when you were little and you would pretend to hit homers off Fernando Valenzuela, or you were on patrol with Paunch and John. Yeah I was a tomboy, but I clean up real nice. So this week I've been riding and I find myself racing Vincenzo Nibali up my favorite final hill sprint, or charging long flat out sprints against Cavendish which I always win cause he's an absolute douche. It's fun and dorky, and I'm not embarrassed to admit it. I know you all do it whether you care to admit it or not.

Last but not least Universal Sports just announced they will air the Giro di Lombardia. I got so excited I started dancing around (see above video) Like I've mentioned in previous posts I love this race because of its beauty and history. What other race visits an area like Lake Como and a site like the Shrine of Madonna del Ghisallo. She has become the patron saint of cyclists. I'm not the best writer so I suggest you google it if you don't know the whole story, while you're at it look up Andy Hampsten on the Passo di Gavia, but that's a whole other post. Back to Ghisallo, It is definitely on my must visit list, so while I'm waiting for that to happen I have been looking to buy a Madonna del Ghisallo saint medal. The way I look at it if your racing against Nibali and Cavendish everyday it's a good idea to have a little back up.

Becoming Seaworthy Again

All hail the Blu Emu. Last Wednesday I was in so much pain and hunched over due to that nasty rowing machine in the gym, I was unable to ride until Sunday. It could of been a lot worse. You see, I get the Sciatica from time to time, and the pain in my middle back was creeping down to that damned nerve and down my leg. It got so bad that I actually took my parents advice and used their Blue Emu ointment. Yeah my Dad has been known to buy stuff off the TV like the iRenew wristband and those cow-pie looking diet cookies. Say what you want but it worked, or maybe I willed it to be.

To ease the pain I would lie flat on the floor, which would attract all the animals of the house to within a 2 foot radius around me. It was while laying on the floor I thought a lot about how I got to this sorry state. Pretty deep for someone laying on their floor with 2 dogs by their side and a cat on their stomach watching Who's the Boss. I thought about how I seemed fit but, lets just say my vessel had some leaks in it. I was sea worthy but you wouldn't want to cross any big bodies of water in me. So it was then and there last week that I promised to do all this crap to get seaworthy again, and then I wrote them all down and put them on the fridge. Because everyone knows once you put something on the fridge it becomes a sacred law. My list included things like no food items with over 5 grams of sugar, no processed food, eating veggies and fruit and taking my vitamins religiously, riding more. All the stuff the media crams down our throat every 3 months or so on the 6 o' clock news. Well it's Wednesday and I'm doing good so far, no sugar in my coffee, no muffins, no tasty Snickers bars. I also started reading my meditation book, healthy mind, healthy body, but totally unsatisfied. Damn Snickers commercial.

THOU SHALT NOT EAT OVER 5GRAMS OF SUGAR

Take 30 of These and Call Me in the Morning

I had my 36th birthday yesterday, yeah I'm not afraid to say it out loud. Not like those HMB's who stay 29 for 40 years. Although I do think it's funny that I go to the gym and throw my back out on that blessed day. You see, I was going to go for a ride after I finished doing chest and abs but it was drizzly and the roads were probably going to be slick. Wah, wah, wah. I should of gone riding. I ended up staying at the gym and doing the rowing machine, yeah the one in the corner only old ladies use. Well I guess I'm one of them now. I was going to do an easy 20 minutes, but then I remember reading Selene Yeager's (Bicycling Mag) article about how interval training will melt your fat like butter.

My row started off fine, I warmed up, did one minute fast, slowed down for two, and then I started my next fast minute. It lasted 20 seconds. I must of lost my form because I leaned back and felt a pop and then a pain shock, like I got electrocuted. I couldn't help but laugh because it hurt so much, so there I was, crazy old lady laughing away on the rowing machine. I managed to get up and hobble myself out of the gym looking like some sort of undiscovered Gymnasium Neanderthal.

The pain got worse throughout the day and my birthday turned into a suffer-fest. I worked on t-shirt designs but nothing came out like I wanted. Had dinner which consisted of a quesadilla, tortilla chips, and a chocolate covered biscuit. Happy Birthday to me, after that I went to the park to play with the Friends of the Friendless band. And then off to bed with my knees elevated and a stack of Ritz on my chest watching "Did You Hear About the Morgan's?" That lame ass movie with Sarah J. Parker and Hugh Grant who is unfortunately looking his age. I then tossed and turned gingerly all night trying to find the right position which led to a whopping 4 hours of sleep.

Next morning and my back is a little better. I self medicated this morning and took thirty of these after my protein smoothie. Hope to get back on the saddle Friday.

Candy Corn is the DEVIL

First weekend of September and as usual it's Africa hot. So I rode up through Yucaipa from Redlands to stare at the big apple sign pointing up to Oak Glen on the corner of Bryant and Oak Glen Road. My goal is to make it to the goats by the end of September, cause if I make it to the goats I made it to the apple burritos sold across the parking lot in the big barn. Honestly, I just want to see the goats. I really wish I could make it a bit further up the road for the big bag of little apple cider donuts at Snow-line apples, but they might as well be another 30 miles away. Whole lotta climbing, in a little bit of road. Maybe if the donuts had $50 bills stuffed through their holes. Oh yeah, don't eat a bag of candy corn the day before a big ride. Sugar is a strength zapper, it's the DEVIL. But cider donuts and apple burritos are fine because they have fruit in them.

I've been watching the Vuelta this week and I'm trying to take it all in because it's the last grand tour before the World's and my favorite race, Giro di Lombardia. Which is a pisser because neither Universal or Versus will show it. They played it once a couple years ago and I fell in love with it, then poof no more. But back to the Vuelta, it's been pretty exciting, sprint wise at least. Everybody is getting a turn at crossing the finish line first. Sharing is caring. Bad news with Team Sky dropping out. Prayers go out to the Gonzalez family, friends, and everyone at Team Sky.

Well I have finally figured out how to work the imovie thingy majingy. So here is the exclusive blog premiere of Call of Nature. I was shooting footage for my soon to be released cycling movie and all of a sudden here comes a port-a-potty over the crest of the hill. My thought with this video is sometimes you have a call of nature then the feeling goes away, this is what it would look like.

Hell of the West?

Lord almighty Mr. Farrar has beaten Mr. Cavendish. I have not been that excited for a victory since my own cheesy victory this spring. I actually jumped up from the ottoman and screamed till I realized what the neighbors must be thinking. I must of looked like Kramer in the Seinfeld episode when he was betting on horses, because I believe I actually tried to whip myself trying to will Tyler over the line. Unfortunately as soon as he crossed over the line it stopped recording and I couldn't watch the replay or see the actual moment on Mark's face when he knew he was defeated and he wasn't going to win the Hell of the West. What?

Now, I haven't said anything in my posts about the Universal sports cycling commentators, Gogo and Steve Schlanger. I will be nice and just say they are the poor man's Paul and Phil. Sigmund and Puff and Stuff are up there because I couldn't find a photo of Gogo and Steve.Puff and Stuff kind of has eyes like Gogo though. Ah, serendipity.