On Writing, Right?

I have a problem with the word "no." On the other hand, I do not have a problem with the word "yes." Or depending on how you look at it maybe I just have problems all the way around?

I cannot say "no" to anything. This has been a problem in the past. Would I be interested in starting this bike racing team? Travel around the country and race bikes and possibly drink beers with my own band of merry men? Hell Yes! Would I like to go out for drinks? Well, yes, is the appropriate answer to that one as well. Be damned, work, or anything else that should get in the way of these leisurely activities. Should we fly to Panama to go rock climbing for three weeks? The answer, again, was — but of course.

This has also helped me to have some of the best, craziest experiences that one could imagine. They are not all good, that is not the way things work. But they are all something, I know that much to be true.

Without agreeing to certain things you will never find yourself in the back of a pickup truck staring at the Andes over your own shoes (with the caribineros de Chile shaking their fists at you.) You will also probably never find yourself naked from the waist up on an operating table in another in a third world country getting moles removed. One does not blow up boulders with hand molded nitro-glycerin, while chewing cacao, by saying "no thank you." And you certainly can not take shots of tequila from the business end of a glass shotgun by saying "I think I'll pass." Just sayin.


The point of this little word "yes" is to illustrate exactly how I found myself in Bill Strickland's Bicycling Magazine office one fine day early this summer. This, in fact, is where these photos come from. And if you leave me in your office alone, long enough, I will photograph most of it.

His wife Beth had put it to me a few days earlier that I should come down and see the opening night of the Lehigh Valley Velodrome with them. We had just finished up the Rapha East Coast Gentleman's Race (the full video comes out July 1st) and I did not think it fair to say "no" to such a lovely lady after she had just ridden 120 miles. Plus, it was promised that I could see the prestigious offices of Bicycling Magazine, possibly get a little drunk, and definitely enjoy everything that is organic and edible from the food stand at the track. How, pray tell, do you say "no" to something like that? Besides, I had kept the drink going for maybe two, three nights now, what was a little bus ride for one more before returning to the West?

Now, with that being said, there were other things on the agende that I wished to explore while in Emmaus, PA. Neither of them had to do with Mr. Armstrength either. If you know what I mean, well, one of them did, but only in a sort of round about way. A tertiary text that came from the real truth here. Bill Strickland is a writer. And as someone who has the sort of inkling to do the same, well, I wanted to know what it takes, or took. The other? Well, the other is a little harder to pin down than that (because what it takes to be a writer is totally easy to pin down.)

So, that is how I found myself sitting in Bill's office. A little adventure, sure, I'm always up for that….but as far as I knew I was On Assignment, and if I did not keep my wits about me, as I would later see, I would easily be making the half mile trek from the velodrome to a huge house situated a mile down the road.

Now the first thing that we did NOT do upon arriving at the prestigious Bicycling Magazine was to talk about Tour de Lance. The book has been getting reviews all over the board. Mostly good, but there will always be some detractors. And that is fine. The subject, I could care less about, (sorry L, I don't mean that as a direct slam to you, I'm sure you're 'totes aws' [read: totally awesome]) what I was more interested in was the simple fact that a book had been written. Seriously! A whole book. And what's more? It is good. It makes sense. You read it from cover to cover and...wait for it... it tells a story.

I do not know many writers that have written books. (Do I?) A unpublished cycling romance novel, sure. Great rides and routes in the Portland area, yes. Wait, I have to take that back a little bit, my friend Lesley wrote a book called Dear Diary about being an adolescent girl and having a drug habit (or three). So, there is that.

Bill also edited this book On Being a Writer, which, obviously I have become totally fascinated with. Know why? Want to know why? Because, in it, he interviews Tom Robbins. Yes, that Tom Robbins. Tom Fucking Robbins. Remember him? You told that girl that you had a crush on that you actually read Still Life with Woodpecker to impress her, then went out and found it just in case she question you on it? That Robbins.


The first Tom Robbins book I read was Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates. I stole it from my aunt and read it on the beach (after she finished it of course) and I remember a strangeness coming over me. I was now witness to the world that my parents and their siblings had been/were a part of, but never talked about. For example, if I was off belly down in the sand enjoying HST (Hunter S. Thompson) then they were joking to each other about how cute I was with my new tattoos and quest for edgy writing, all the while gobbling up anything T. Robbins had to offer.

AND Bill was out traveling to Seattle to interview him. Damn, that is what I call a writer. On assignment. For Playboy, or Rodale, or a gunslinger for hire. It does not matter.

He (and we're back talking about Bill here) gets to travel the world and interview cyclists. Or rather stand beside their buses and observe what they're doing. Maybe mark it all down in a notebook, maybe sneak behind a building or two to mark it down in a notebook. But either way - He's Doing It! And I will not ever stop applauding him for that. No matter how much he has resigned himself to not travel this year (I do it out of envy - sorry.)

Rouleur 18 is a pretty damn good example of this. (and if you have made it this far I applaud you). On the first page of writing, in what will go down in history as one of my favorite Rouleur's yet Strickland has written this...

At the finish, I walk among the racers like a human among wraiths, wondering what it means to me, for me, for all of us that they have done this to themselves once again. I don't like to talk to them then, though some of them want to. I watch. I take notes I rarely use. There is almost no way to write it right.

And this, is pretty much how I feel every day. I travel to events like the tour of California and get caught up in talking to a bartender that is struggling to comprehend what is happening around her (what? she was cute) or all the way to Ghent to see the fabled Tour of Flanders and am content enough to watch it from the corner of a bar, and then I feel bad about it. But it is writing like this - like the Tour de Lance, or pretty much anything coming from Rouleur (however haughtily) that gives me a little bit of hope.


I guess that is probably what I found that day, sitting with Bill and reading over a cartoon about Lance, pretending that I was helping him edit, while really just wallowing in where I was. Hope. Inspiration. Maybe a touch of nostalgia that left me wondering, "where is this nostalgia coming from?"

And after all that. All that thinking and pondering. Then we went to the Velodrome. Which, I guess is just a nice way of saying 'To Be Continued."

221: By Stick or by Carrot.

It is not often that I get to see the whole of the Embrocation Cycling Journal Team race their bikes. It is not that I do not want to, just the whole Midwest gets in the way sometimes. So, when a freak volcano blows up and ruins everyone's plans for international travel you get to find yourself in some new situations. Coming "home"(there's that word again) is always a fun thing to do, if only because you get to see things that somehow feel incredibly relevant and totally ridiculous at the same time.


Such was the case with the Turtle Pond Race. Which, oddly enough I was able to participate in. I did not get to do this one last year. Or did I? But either way RMM's greeting of "You're the X Factor" upon arrival was enough to remind me that I was home. Or at the very least confuse me and frustrate PVB into slaying the front end of a field unwilling to chase for a few laps. Which made me smile a lot and frustrated others. But PVB always makes me smile.

I had a Di2 Equipped Seven that kept chirping like a little Golden Eagle on the attack. Such a satisfying feeling to hear that chirp and know that it means it is doing something. Not exactly sure what, but something. Shifting probably, but it is too smooth to even decipher that much. Either way, that is my review. Smooth, golden, eagle-like, pass it on. The best part about it really was the ease at which you can shift while standing. Because I do that shit all the time (not really- but in all actuality, it is possible with this stuff.)



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Read Bill Strickland's recent Sitting In. And then tell me that you have not experienced this. I felt jabs of guilt mixed with nostalgia when I read it. I have probably yelled at a few newbies, I try not to, but I am sure that it has happened. Or maybe I just feel guilty for everyone when other people yell at newbies? I know that it is a necessary evil and, honestly, probably the quickest way to set them on the straight and narrow. But at the same time I know that I have been the newbie. And most likely, more than once.

It made me think back to that Tuesday Night World Champs ride that is, or was, put on by the Charles River Wheelmen, or the BRC, or whomever chooses to take ownership of that ride. The first time I showed up (Don't laugh - ok, laugh) it was wearing a Descente reissue 7-Eleven Jersey. Holy shit did I think I was the coolest fucker out there. Did not even matter that I could have tucked that thing in my shorts or that I would not be thinking I was cool as I limped home by myself a mere 20 or 30 minutes later. All that mattered were those first few moments of awesome.

On the way to the ride my riding partner had told me that I needed to get out of the big ring. This early in the season was for spinning and I should be in the little chainring doing just that. I was pretty new to it all at this point, especially the gears part and at this point I remember feeling that there was just so much more to think about with this version of the sport than Single Speed Mountain biking or just riding your bike to work. In any case he knew more than me so I promptly forced the left side of my 8 Speed shifter inward causing the chain to drop to the inner ring.

The only problem at this point, with this scenario, is that I never shifted back into that big ring. Not when we rolled out of the meeting spot. Which was fine as there was a bit of an uphill to begin with. Not even when we made that first left and started the long drag to the next turn. And that was probably ok too. Because at that point I was still keeping up. Sure, I must have looked the part with my legs all aflutter, but it didn't matter too much, because I was about to be dropped as soon as we hit the twisty back roads of Needham. I did not know that I was about to be dropped either. But the strong hand that calmly grabbed a fistful of my jersey and all but shoved me out the back of the group said otherwise.

I was mad at this man for not letting me into his club. Mad enough (or embarrassed) to dejectedly wander home on my own accord and not want to ever come back. Not understanding how an old man with old components and a dirty old tire stuffed under his saddle (a man with no helmet nonetheless!) was allowed to participate in whatever the hell went on past mile 10 out there, while I was, decidedly, not.

I went back eventually. But, at that point I had armed myself with a little bit more knowledge (once we get rolling then use your big ring - here's how to follow someone) and maybe a little "I'll show those guys" attitude too. But, inevitably they smashed me more times than not, and would probably do so again today. Each and every time though I learned something from those experiences. How to hold someone in a group when they dropped their chain. How to stand up on a climb and not eject your bike into the front wheel of the person behind you. And of course how to rotate through a paceline and keep keep it moving.

Maybe it is because I grew up in a household full of teachers? Surrounded by a community of teachers, but I hope, whether it be by stick or carrot that there is still some of this high paced, motion based, enrichment happening out there. My father would say things like "if you aren't learning something from it, then why are you doing it?" Which by cycling standards is the equivalent to "If you aren't moving forward you're getting shot out the back." So, there is always that.

105: A Two, or Three Video Saturday.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Sport Report - Tour de France & Robotic Baseball
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Tasers

I don't have a TV. But if I did, I would be watching things like...The Colbert Report. One time, when I worked in the Television Production world. This was a long time ago, but I did a lot of Teleprompting. This basically involves using a mouse with a roller ball, or a just the plain old trackpad on your computer, loading a fancy program and then scrolling along with whomever happens to be on stage reading out-loud. I did this for people like Chris Matthews, John Kerry and his wife, Terri Gar and John Stewart. Stewart was the funniest. I think about this every time I see him. How he's funny. Indeed, I enjoy people who are funny.



This is the second video. Shot this video in Belgium last year.


Was thinking about this because last night saw the meeting of the minds. Met with local legends S. Hunter, M. Cameron, and B. Ellin to talk about the upcoming Cyclocross season here in Portland. Now, I don't know about you, but I feel like everyone has 'Cross on the brain all of a sudden. No? Check out the most recent post over at Race.cx as it talks about Brian's first Cross race. Pretty interesting to talk about how we all got into this sport. Good stuff.

Ok, lets make it three.



I saw this over at Molly's Blog. I dream of making video's this good. What is it going to take? Better equipment? Probably. I wonder out loud what this was shot with. It looks really good. But it begs the question: What to do? I want to race Cyclocross more than anything, but what then, do I do about covering the race scene this year?

I'm on a quest to find out the differences between the East and West Coast Cyclocross Scenes. Who know's what kind of craziness could come of it. Either way I saw a lifesized Billy Dee Williams at the Liquor Store just now. Thank you Colt 45 for bringing it back. And apparently Sheppard Fairey designed it. Weird? Weird.