Archive | March, 2014

Soiled Chamois Rice & Beans

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It’s sort of funny [not really] that nearly all of my favorite meals look like something that was scraped off the piss smelling coat of a bum passed out in an alley after three bottles of Wild Irish Rose and a “found” half eaten gas station burrito. Funny or not [mostly not], any combination of brown rice, meat, beans, peppers, onions and a bit of cheese usually results in me being fully satisfied in the gut (and more than a tad gassy).

Tonight’s rice & beans was based on what Bon Appétit magazine calls the “hottest trend to come out of American kitchens since the kale-splosion of 2012.”  Tex-Mex-Cajun-Italian Fusion.

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The Poop Ride

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Yesterday was a nice 2:25+ in the saddle out on the muddy dirt roads. It was a great ride but it’s funny how those damp, muddy rides out in the chilly spring air can take it out of you. Even after a semi-fitful/restful night of sleep (some nights that’s all I can hope for) I just didn’t have the mojo to ride today. But I did, ’cause it’s been a LONG ass winter and to turn down the chance to ride and further attempt to burn off my beer keg sized love handles might qualify as a sacrilege (depending on which faith you practice, if any). So after watching the Everton v Fulham match and a bit of the Liverpool match (before I let the DVR do its thing), I headed out to get SOMETHING in on the bike.

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It’s Grim Up North

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Today was the first Saturday in a long, long, LONG time that I could get back to my routine of getting up, drinking coffee, eating breakfast, watching a bit of football and heading out on a ride. My initial plan was to go a bit north of town, then head south to seek out some bigger rollers, but somewhere along the way I changed my mind and stayed north of town the entire ride.

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Ira Found

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You may or may not remember the February 28th Soiled Chamois post In Search of Ira, where I contemplated the whereabouts of pint-sized, Russian XC racing badass Irina Kalentieva. Well I am happy to say that today, for those race fans who may care, I received official word of her whereabouts (thankfully not in a Siberian gulag) and a hint of her 2014 race plans.

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An Unexpected Detour

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I debated back and forth whether to go for a ride or not today. The weather LOOKED beautiful; sun, blue sky and a light breeze. Very spring-like. The only thing missing was the spring-like temperature. I think when I headed out the door it was less than 20˚.  To say I was less than thrilled to ride in such temps (yet again) would be an understatement. But the prospect of the trainer was just NOT that appealing and since I gotz handfuls of fat that need to be burned off ASAP, that meant layering up–yet again–for a ride in cold ass temps.

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Newsboy Racing

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Long before newspapers (remember them) started being delivered by grizzled, cigarette smoking bald men hurling bagged papers out the windows of their muffler-less, rusted out Chevy Novas to help finance their overdue child support*, and well before Kevin Bacon created bike messenger chìc and ushered in a quinquennial wave of movies, documentaries and TV shows about the trade, there were newsboys.

Kids hawking newspapers for coin, many delivering stacks of papers via bicycles, all over cities and towns around the world. Like their great, great grandsons, some–like the lad above– apparently chose to smoke as well. Ah, what’s a lung or two, as long as you’re riding bikes.

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Epic Epicness

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The Absa Cape Epic is another one of those races to make my list of things that “would be neat to do.” The conditions this year seem to be a bit wetter and a bit more “epic” than we are used to seeing from the legendary South African stage race. One thing that is not unusual is the quality of the images and video coming from the race, including the photo above of Annika Langvad and Ariane Kleinhans during today’s wet and muddy stage 2 captured by Samp Clark of Sportzpics.

I have to say I do miss posting the updates, photos and video each day from the Cape Epic on xxcmag.com, but they are still out there for those of us who dig seeing it. I recommend checking out the Cape Epic’s video channel, for stage highlights and recaps. Amazing stuff as always.

Photo © Sam Clark/Cape Epic/SPORTZPICS.

When In Doubt: Pinch a Loaf

The past two days have been less than fun: more ongoing frigid winter temps, a tooth filling that may need worked on for a 3rd time (probably needing a root canal), a dead battery in Wifey’s clown car (due to a certain ginger haired 10-year-old leaving the door ajar overnight) and an ongoing battle with my thoughtless neighbors over their two big ass dogs that they leave out in their yard for hours at a time to relentlessly bark as if the rest of the neighborhood REALLY enjoys hearing them bark at anyone, everything, anything everyone! Yeah, I know this all minor shit, but the minor shit is adding up and I’m letting it get to me. I need spring!! (REAL spring).

With all the dead battery drama this morning I missed out on a ride (not that I felt like riding in 15 degree temps), missed my time window for going to the gym and I had NOOOOOOO desire what-so-ever to ride the trainer. So I did what any red-blooded, stressed-out, depressed, American male who doesn’t have a real job to go to would do;  I baked bread.

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Back To Racing (Sort of)

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As I drank a couple of beers late last Saturday afternoon I somehow convinced myself to go ahead and enter the Barry-Roubaix’s 36 mile race, a distance– at the time of entering–roughly 15 miles longer than any ride I had done in 2014 due to the relentless and brutal winter we’ve had. It would also be only my second ride not to be completed on fat bike this calendar year. “This could be bad for me, but other than a few out-of-staters, everyone else will be in the same frigid, snow, ice and shit filled boat as me,” I thought as entered my credit card information and took the final draw from my pint of Founder’s Imperial Stout. So let it be done… it’s God’s will… it is what it is. Pffft! Whatever, it’s just bike ridin’.

And with that, I now give you yet another race ride report, in a long history of Soiled Chamois race reports, that didn’t need to be written…

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