I'm in....

See, i'm way too easily swayed by such compelling arguments like:
Hands down, no question, no discussion, do the Killer-Bs.

DO NOT MISS GLOUCESTER. It is the best track out there and is the heart of NE Cross. It has been a classic since 1999 and shouldn't be missed. Plus, racing the Killer Bs is absolutely a MUST. Totally insane and totally nuts, but great fun.

I'm in like flynn... or in like... um... whatever - Ge Dog is in for the Killer-Bs. Yes GeWilli will be the slowest B racer there... but Ge-Dog might pull some wicked full contact crap and muscle through at the start head down my elbows stick further out than most ;-) just like playing BBall with me (not that i'm any good) but if you do "watch for the elbows" if they call up based on registration date i'm pretty much resigned to following sundays 'plan of attack' and hell i may just do that anyway... Ctodd's got the kick ass #2 registration spot for the event if they do start by reg date...

Mad Dog manages a Hunter S Thompson reference (sweet) coming out of the Inner-circle-Bike show...

bunch of circle jerking industry insiders: here let me load you up with as much free stuff as i got from the next guy.

Sort of like a big old fasioned Potlatch. Or Potluck as the white men bastardized it.

Yeah... i'm back with the Hiada reference. The Hiada kicked serious ASS.

Almost and maybe more obscure than the Hunter S Thompson reference. Unless ya an anthropologist studying native american stuff, or schooled in one of the progressive public or regular private types schools in the Pac NW ya gotta be wondering Who thE FUCK are da Hiada and why is the tall freak GeWilli(kers for CTodd) so all about the Hiada.

Oh it was cold this morning. Goose Bump cold. No Not Goose Pimples. I call em goose bumps... but... i freaking tooled on... kept the cadence high and the gear low. and was warm (more or less)

And ya wonder why i was fucking overheating at Coonemassett. Long sleeve skin suit.

Oh which btw... i had some MAJOR issues with sack adjustment during the race. Like Reach down and re-arrange before hopping on... That cost me a minute over the whole race maybe... gotta see if i can find an overlock machine and tighten that crotch into a sack holding device... maybe TMI... sorry... its all bout documentation...

Those RAZE tires in Patrick O'grady's post look damn enticing. Sort of like one of my favorite mt bike tires... the Conti Baja. Those were wicked heavy but gd had the best freaking traction in everything.

So here i'm mr. slow off the bad, catching up to speed... finally read some of Adam's articles. Hell i thought 53x11 or what ever Ferarri calls his page's articles were decent. These freaking rock. WTG Adam. Not the most ubersecret stuff but well laid out and put together. Nice stuff. If i had $450 bones to rub together laying around (i'd have a power tab by now) i'd hook up with Cyclesmart as a coach. But I will admit, Yogurt boy's right. I don't need no stinking coach. All i need is that dumbass Uber Nega-Coach on the sideling yellin "USE THE BIG RING"... my mental comment to him as i labored up the hill after the rocks was: "My little ring is bigger than your big ring ya puss"

linkage to Adam's articles: Cyclocross

Good shit.

GeWilli felt great on the technical stuff, fucked up a couple of the super tight hair pin turns, one right hander going into the plowed field between the berry bushes (know which one Marro?) sucked, i over cooked it a couple times and was sliding and dancing against the bushes... needed more tire grip... me need some nice 35s for sketchy mt bike courses... that or i needed to just bring the fucking Mt Bike...

Anyway...

enough babblin...

GeWilli's stoked for Gloucester now... totally freaking STOKED... as stoked as a slow mo fo can be... I'm gonna have the the most fun of anyone in the Bs... at least i'm gonna try to...

Woops - this has been sitting here for-EVER...

better hit publish before blogger eats it...

yall be good...

Finish up with the quote from Patty O G... i'm busting a gut laughin:

1 0 | 0 2 | 2 0 0 6
Vegan vituperates

Hee haw. A cycling adviser to the Las Vegas Chamber of Commerce takes issue with my description of his hometown, noting that there are many first-class hotels, stellar bike trails and attractive persons of both sexes to be enjoyed, if one will only make the effort to leave The Strip. This is like arguing that your pleasant suburban neighborhood is not besmirched by the whorehouse on the corner. This miserable shithole in the desert wouldn't have drawn flies were it not for gambling, the quickie divorce and the military-industrial complex. Hell, lose the first two and you've got Bibleburg, only hotter.

Being a wanderer by nature, I always find it amusing when people defend their hometowns against aspersions the way they might defend their women against molesters. Look, ace, you can believe that Las Vegas is a smart, sexy showgirl all you want. To me she looks like a one-titted hooker with a colostomy bag and a hacking cough. If it makes you Vegans feel any better, Bibleburg looks like a skinny spinster with a perma-frown playing tambourine in a Salvation Army band. At least here we make the smokers stand outside in the wind, rain and snow so they can shuffle off this mortal coil and meet Jeezwhiz that little bit faster.