Posts Tagged → dirt road life

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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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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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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Dust & Mud

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The 2014 Strade Bianche race was a super fun race to watch! I highly recommend watching it [HERE] on YouTube or downloading it from your favorite torrent site. Peter Sagan (Cannondale) is such a powerful and fun racer to watch, but was outdone by Michal “The Kielbasa King” Kwiatkowski (Omega Pharma-Quick Step) who was in freaking beast mode. Watching the pros racing on the white, dusty gravel of Italy was just the motivation I needed (along with a couple high-octane beers) to finally enter the 2014 Barry-Roubaix.

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Ridin’ Bikes is Swell

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After mentally cracking for what may have been the 84th time in my life last week and vowing to spend the rest of this godforsaken endless winter under beer fueled fart smelling blankets in a curtains closed bedroom, I pulled up my grown fat man bibs and forced myself out into the snow to ride today. I have to say it was worth every second of the 21 minutes it took me to stuff my fat ass into three layers of cycling and cold weather gear.

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Dirt Road Racin’

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I love riding on dirt and gravel roads and racing on them can be just as cool. Sadly, as I look out my window it is snowing yet again, adding more inches of the white stuff on to the many layers of ice and snow that have been on the ground since Thanksgiving. So, any riding I do in the next few weeks will probably have to be done with four-inch wide tires.

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Shamed Into The Cold

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A well used ceramic space heater sat humming at my feet as I sat sipping my third cup of coffee and staring blankly into my computer monitor. I had long given up on it producing anything worth while and now aimlessly clicked through dead-end after dead-end on Monster.com, hyperbolic football gossip on The Daily Mail and finally full circle back to weather.com where I had started my morning off three hours earlier.  I was pleased to see that it was warming up, however I was disappointed to see that all that meant was that it was now 4˚ and not -4˚. Thoughts of climbing on the trainer in my basement now entered my head as I took a big sip of my now ice-cold coffee. Fuck.

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