Tag Archives | memories

Face Up

When I was growing up back in Western PA, I was part of a small group of neighborhood kids somewhat close in age. In the years before the awkwardness of junior high and high school started up, we would play kickball, stickball, tag, and hide and seek late into the firefly filled humid summer nights before heading inside for bath time, snacks, and watching CHiPs on TV.

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Quite a Difference

I proclaimed loudly (or at least typed some shit here) back in May about how I was going to start mountain biking more. That lasted about two or three weeks, and then I immediately went back to riding gravel roads.

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Memories of the Past Week, Others

Outdoor riding continues to elude me for a variety of reasons; first because of the abundances of rutted ice on many roads, then because it got cold as shit outside and for some reason this winter I am lacking the motivation freeze my tits off. Please note that “lack of motivation” is just code for my laziness, but that’s your call.

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Stank Memories #TBT

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This morning as I ate a hastily thrown together peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and threw back a large gulp of Starbucks® K-Cup® coffee (don’t judge!), I was hit with a memory from my time doing endurance mountain bike races, many of which required overnight stays.

Until I got too soft and started opting for crap hotel rooms–often given the “Cuckhold Room®'” against my wishes, even though I explained that my buddy’s wife was only there because we were too cheap poor to get our own rooms–most of the time those overnighters meant camping; either in a leaky, crap tent (why did it ALWAYS rain???), or the back of my [insert your choice of boxy, imported vehicles I’ve owned here].

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Here and Now

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The following post has very little to do with cycling other than I talk of the area I ride and it features a series of photos that I took while on my bike Thursday. You’re welcome to continue on, or just look at the photos. – Management. Continue Reading →

Unchained

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A leaky pipe in the ceiling above the Stankment’s Man Cave (actually belonging to a boy) meant that my ability to leave the house was at the mercy of a plumber, and my Wednesday schedule (or lack there of) needed to be adjusted. Any time spent on two wheels would need to be moved to later in the morning/early afternoon, and mileage would be minimal. It was the perfect day to say I was too busy to ride, but I was not going to pass up the opportunity to ride in near perfect 75˚ temperatures and brilliant sunshine. Not when I know all too well that by this time next month the air will have a distinct chill to it, the winds will start cutting to the bone, and base layers and riding jackets will once again become the norm. A ride HAD to be done, even if it meant it had to be a  mere 25 mile Better Than The Trainer Ride™ on dirt and gravel roads north of town.

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Finding Blog Maturity (Sort Of)

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Earlier today I had the idea to take a look back at one of my early endurance mountain bike races and rewrite the race report from my current perspective to see how different I might write it now, nine or ten years removed. I still plan on doing that in the near future, but as I read over some of those old posts on the Soiled Chamois v.1 blog I found myself sidetracked with some mild embarrassment and distaste for the way I wrote and approached blogging writing back then (mostly in the ’05 to ’08 era).

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Fat Again

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No, the title of this post is not referring to how 20+ years ago I was a hulking, 300 pound sack of man flesh, lost 125 pounds and am now seemingly going out of my way to gain as much of that weight back as I can with a steady diet of burgers, pizza, pasta and beer. No, I am simply adhering to Cycling Writer Law 26/3.7 which states that if you ride, review, touch, hear about or suggestively rub up against a fat bike and proceed to write about it, you MUST mention the word “fat” in the title of your piece, e.g. Getting Fat, Rolling a Fatty, Fat & Fun, Fatties Do It BetterFat Between My Thighs, etc., etc.,  Since I suggestively rubbed up against rode my Surly Pugsley for the second time this week on Thursday, I have gone with the title Fat Again. OK, with all that fat talk out-of-the-way, I will move on…

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