somehow it's all connected...

One of my favorite daily stops is Gwadzilla.
It's not the daily training blog.
It's not the bicycle product review blog.
It is: photos of a cycling scene I wish I had.
links to sites I'ld never find.
mentions of the best music.
and simply someone I can easily identify with.
who's job & title does not define him,
but he defines his own life.
Each day is different. Each day has a gem (or two).

One day was a bitter pill.
The cyclist was Kevin Black.
I didn't know Kevin, I could only relate to him,
by being a cyclist and a father, and a commuter.
Jockeying for a foot of pavement with 4,000 pounds of steel,
shows that a motorist has no concern for your life,
and those that depend on you to come home safely.



The surreal part was I have been on that street.
I had a beer, well a couple, in The Viking.
The bar that marks where he was hit.
I live in New York.
I've been to Seattle more times than I can recall.
I've only been to Ballard once.
That was to meet my brother.
All those times I've been to Seattle - we've never crossed paths.
Granted it is a big city. But all those times when someone says
"there's someone who looks just like you".
Well, there is. Until two years ago, I never knew.
He picked me up at SeaTac, and we went out for drinks.
To catch up on thirty years.
As we walked up to The Viking, two drunk girls were debating.
It doesn't matter what it was, I'm sure they didn't even know.
In mid sentance they turned to us an asked,
"are you two, brothers?"
That was akward. I've only spent thirty minutes with him.

We drank and shared stories of growing up.
Then headed back to his apartment on that same street.
The next morning we walked around Ballard.
Got something to eat at a local place.
His order: Cheese omlet, no condiments, white toast, coffee.
My order? Omlet with cheese, toast and coffee.
"and any condiments?", "no", "white or wheat", "white".
For a second there's an pause, a glance and shrug.
After breakfast, we walk across the street for more coffee.
"your order?"
"soy chai extra large"
"and for you?"
"extra large soy chai"
a glance is flashed between us.
ok, that's just weird.
Again, maybe there's more to genetics than to environment.
Nature more than nurture.



The articles on Kevin brings back my day in Ballard.
It also fuels the rage I have as a commuter.
And the fears I have as a father,
who wants to be around for his kids.

aknowledging life, and things

totally not bike related.
Or maybe so, since it's what I'm about.
Things happen for a reason, I assume.
And they happen at a given time.
Changing that time, will have an effect on the results.
Often I retrace my path through life.
(that phrase right there allows you to punch me)

Anyways, simply put it's like the Talking Heads...
"how did I get here?"

Springs have been pretty heavy emotionally lately.
Three years ago:
The approaching birth of our third child.
The approaching third birthday of our daughter.
The possiblity that I may have cancer,
enough so that after ten years I finally stop smoking.
And I get back on the bike after five years.
That spring I did ok. No cancer. No bad habit except the
bike kind. And the kids are healthy and happy.

Two years ago:
Being adopted at birth, I was never able to give the Doctors
any useful information regarding our kids. So I search online.
Strange how much online has evolved from 2000 to 2006.
You could write a book about the effects of adoption.
Even now, I still don't know where I truely stand on the issue.
I always wondered. And never knew.
Couldn't even tell you, why I look like I do,
or do the things I do, or like
So I believed in nurture not nature.
It's not genetics, it's HOW you're raised.
This was the start of finding out how wrong I was.

I have two moms.
Two separate families.
In some ways it seems, two different lives.
And two dads.
This is the spring I find my birthmom.
And my sister. And now I'm an Uncle.
And my brother.
And that right there is enough for a movie script.

This is also the spring that I loose my dad to diabetes.
I feel lucky that I was able to get to Denver to see him,
and his brother just weeks before.
We watched the SuperBowl. The only time I've ever watched it.
We geeked out watching the Discovery channel.
And learned alot about each other that weekend.
Something a father and son should've done years ago.

On Valentine's Day there was a blizzard.
I got out of work early and hungout with the kids.
I didn't call my dad, I don't like talking on the phone.
Two days later I got the call,
he had passed a couple days ago, they just found him.
That hurt.

That summer I met my birthmom.
Alot of things started fitting into place.
That fall I would travel to Seattle.
To meet my brother and sister.
To discover who I was.
Where I came from.

That summer was also life changing in other ways.
My friend Marty was hit.
Not just hit.
But INTENTIONALLY RUN OVER, and left for dead.
Marty was a guy who remained a friend after I left,
where we both worked.
But I also checked out after loosing a friend that fell
while hiking.
Marty would stop by after work to ride with his dog.
That act against Marty shook me to the core.
That act would then be followed by Diva.
Diva owned my wife's favorite boutique.
She always had a smile, and her little dog.

Everyday I would drive past her Ghost Bike.
Everyday I would check for posts on Marty's progress.
I sent him my copies of Breaking Away & American Flyers.
Anything I could do for him.
I hated the car priority culture.
The denoting of second class to cyclists.
I hated the thought that if someone hit my kid,
they wouldn't even be charged with anything.
People don't even loose their licenses.

Then Joel.
I didn't know Joel.
But I ride with people who did.
And I've ridden that stretch of road plenty of times.
The last straw was a spineless DA who gave the driver 6 months.
It was an insult. Because someone is a cyclist,
somehow their life is automatically worth less.

That winter I went to my first bicycle coalition meeting.
I wanted to help.
I wanted to change things.
They NEEDED to change.

I helped with Bike Month.
I saw the other advocates.
Met the commuters who rode year round.
I found my place.
And I knew who I was.
That summer I sold my car.


And every day I ride past Diva's bike.

Liberty! @ NAHBS pt2

who needs to actually fly there?
just wait 'til it's over,
and spend a couple hours poking around.
and this is what you find:

home town favorite, more so than Serotta
Vicious Cycles
a glow in the dark Slider for me please!

in a beautiful orange steel road frame,
Della Santa

and a weak spot for all steel 'cross bikes...
Curt Goodrich
but at $2800, it may be awhile before I ride with that crowd.

lastly,
if Vicious doesn't paint my rig when it's worn,
it'll be this guy, awesome colors, awesome.
Keith Anderson
there, all that money and time saved on things I'll never own.

Liberty! at the NAHBS

ok, maybe this was the random google search
for technicolorhipsterfreakshow or
this wreck!

and....

I really wasn't prepared.
Really.
It's like the first time you saw a recumbent.

like a fixed gear landed on a bmx bike.
oh hell.

hipster cocoon

sometimes it sounds like a good idea.
or in theory there's nothing wrong with it.
but then you read the comments section.
the comments section is like a cross section of the populace.
but I hope not.
I can't even finish any news stories because I know I'll see
some of those comments.
Those comments that make me just shake my head.
Disappointment.
Go to this.
Note the fresh (still scabbed) forearm outline.
Looks like a beautiful hipster half out of the cocoon.

*now the date shows 2006. I wish there was a
'where are they now' link.

it's GLOW TIME!

stumbled across this:

which made me think of these guys:
Vicious Cycle down in New Paltz.
I always wanted a Slider, with custom glow in the dark Zebra paint.
Aaaaaaaaaaaah.... some!
When my Gunnar finally needs to be cleaned up,
it's off to Vicious.
go to Vicious Cycles and look around.


The main question is. If they can make glow in the dark grips,
where's the bar tape?

VEER the Movie...Soon!

short trailer:


Spring is here.
VEER is out in limited cities.
You're warned.
Don't miss it.

How to Ride a Bike Forever

THE BRIDGESTONE BICYCLE CATALOGUE 1994

How To Ride A Bike Forever

1. Ride When You Like.

Don’t ride out of guilt over last night’s meal. Don’t be a slave to your bike, or else you’ll resent it, and feel guilty whenever you think about it or look at it. Soon you’ll be avoiding it altogether. If all your rides are like a swimmer’s workout, you’ll burn out on bikes as fast as swimmers burnout on laps. Ride when you want to ride.

2. Go Slowly.

Don’t push yourself too hard, physically or mentally. Don’t ride with racers or obsessive aerobicizers. (If you’re a racer, don’t race with riders; let them be.) Learn to relax on your bike. Of course your bike can be a tremendous tool to build cardiovascular fitness, but why let that get in the way? Unless you race, you can rely on something else, like running, to get fit and lose weight. Running is more efficient for this anyway.

3. Go Short.

A ten-minute ride is always worth it, even though it won’t elevate your heart rate to your “target training level” and keep it there for twelve minutes. (Or is it supposed to be eleven? Or fourteen?)

4. Don’t Keep Track.

If you never use an on-board computer or a heart rate monitor, you can ride with us any time. Avoid “logs.” Forget the graphs and the home computer programs. Keep your bicycle free of extraneous wires and LEDs. You don’t need them.

5. Own More Than One Bike.

This is not a commercial message! Runners have learned that nothing improves a run as much as a new pair of shoes, or shorts, or socks, or something. Bikes, unfortunately, cost a lot more, but the effect is the same. Make your bicycles so different that your experience on one is unlike the other — a mountain bike and a road bike, a multispeed and a single speed, or a clunker, or a recumbent. For some people, even different handlebars are enough of a change. It’s worth a try.

6. Learn How To Fix Your Bike.

Learn to fix a flat. Learn how to install a wheel. Learn how to adjust derailleurs. It’s all easy, and you’ll never feel at ease on a bike if you’re at its mercy. Being able to fix your bike will give you enormous confidence and satisfaction, not to mention self-sufficiency.

7. Don’t Chase Technology.

You will never catch it, and if you pursue it year after year it will break your wallet in half. Some wonderful things have happened to bicycles in the last fifteen years, but so have a lot of dumb things. You don’t need a fancy machine with the latest equipment to enjoy something that is so joyous and simple. A simple, reliable bike will do.

respect to Sheldon Brown.

March 6th was good

I have bad luck, usually.
And I accept the increase chances when commuting by bike.
The two make me nervous, sometimes.
It's Friday. It's finally warm (50ish).
I normally commute late at night on Fridays, so my only
'run-ins' are with drunk college kids, and by now I've
worked my route down to a science depending on the odds
with time, events, and weather.
This Friday was different.

I was supposed to leave before rush hour.
I have a show this night, and had to stop at the house
for the appetizers & camera.
And it's my birthday. So I felt the odds, if on any day,
were against me on Friday.

The boss kept me around longer, why? Who knows.
So the commute started in the dark, in full rush
hour, and I'm LATE. Gallery is already open as I'm
clipping in. This leaves me taking the quick way
home. Putting me in the position to seriously
jockey my way through traffic. At one point
having to jockey a lane due to someone riding my
back tire and not giving me room. That nonsense
escalates with horns and edging each other across
the line with me finally swooping inand taking the
whole lane. Are you kidding me? Denny's doesn't give
free meals for your birthday, can't you just give me
a 'don't kill me on the way home' today?

"sorry kids, I HAD to kill your dad. I was in a hurry
to get to the red light."

That was my excitement for the day.
A mile and a half of lane fighting.
Sorry, there was no wreck. No one got pulled from
their car and beaten (close though).

Home. Load a gallon of homemade salsa and four bags of
chips. Stop twice to readjust load. Twenty seconds spent
considering the benefit of an xtracycle. But flicking my
bike through the downtown crowd and that thought is quickly
gone.

Four way stop. Prius on my left. Another Prius to the far
left. Who's going? No, you go. No, you, I insist. They
start flashing thier lights at each other. Fucking christ.
Take two passive do-gooders, and a stop sign and the whole
world comes to a stop. Now this is playing out as I'm at
the top of the hill. Normally no one is at this stop and
I blow through it to keep speed to get up the hill after
it. So that's my fustration that for the entire time I'm
barreling down this hill, they can't decide who's yeilding
to who. They must be blowing kisses to each other via
headlights. Maybe it's some Prius owner thing I'm not
privy to. I stop, look at them both, and pedal through,
just then the Prius to the far left starts through. Are you
kidding me you dumbass? You can wait for me. My bike is
'greener' than your Prius.

And we're at the gallery. Full house. It was like Frogger
trying to navigate that place. I just people surfed my
way around. Really good work, and a really good turnout.
I headed back out for the uneventful ride back home.
Felt soooo good to ride without thermals and all the
winter gear. With that said, Friday was a good day.

Buffalo street scenes

just some bike shots from the last trip.
a tasty well riden & rusty steel

love the bars, question that drop

i never see these

what the hell and kitchen duty

briefly.
So the missus fosters dogs in what free time there is.
The other day as I headed out to work, she mentioned there
was a dog that needed to be picked up. In the middle of a
quick run down of whatever events lead to whatever dog
needing a foster home, I heard 'young lab'.

I was also in the middle of looking for gloves, shoes,
my helmet and an extra tube. I followed with a quick
'sometime after 6', and headed out.



That small horse in the kitchen is NOT a Lab.
That 'small' dog under the horse is 'Bella',
our 75 lb Old English Bulldog (the large kind).
Bella (sorry for the unkind shot) somehow thinks
she can actually play with this thing.



I love ironic. Yes, his name is Tiny.
Tiny ruined my dog.
I thought my dog was big.
Big like a cow. That's what I called her.
A deaf cow.
Now Bella is small, small like a purse dog.
(I'm not Paris)



On another 'what the hell' note.
No it's not Denver, and the 'Brown Cloud'.
That my friends is road salt. A road salt cloud.
I ride a steel bike ALL winter.
I always thought I'ld like to own a bike shop.
But I hate working on dirty bikes.



Tonight I destroyed the kitchen I just cleaned.
I cleaned the crap out of that bike.
Then I cleaned the kitchen.
Again.

reflection on self control

and a realization that I have very little of it.

I've never thought much about my weight when I was younger.
I actually didn't think about alot of things when I was younger.

When I quit smoking three years ago the weight just piled on.
I used the proven "substitute chips and dip for cigarettes".
It did work. I just happen to be carrying a midget under my shirt.
So I made the goal to drop 20-25 pounds by summer. I had dropped
five pounds just before that and was feeling pretty confident.

Then came the road trip. Which requires me eating bags of chips,
continually holding a Mountain Dew or a beer, and generally just
eating whatever is in front of me. All the time. And since it's
cold and miserable, I just sat. And sat some more. I just worked
full time on nurturing that midget.

A week later, after physically feeling the continual nights of
'beer sampling', I weigh in. Not only have I gained back that
five pounds, but I found time to work in an extra five. Awesome!
It's just cold and miserable, spring will never come, everything
seems to be so depressing, all I can manage is to sit on the
couch at night and feed my face. Not even hungry. I'm just in it
to win. To conquer the fridge.

Besides practicing for competitive eating events, winter also
provides alot of time to check out everything bike related in
print and online. And then sets in the BIKE LUST. What NEW things
to add to the collection. Stopping into the shop to see if
anything "new" has come in. New being: any new bike that is far
better than anything I own, and MUST be purchased to fill that
empty spot inside me. Yeah, the empty spot. The empty spot that
STILL hasn't been filled in all these years. The spot that I
have been trying to patch with chips and dip, pizza, kid's snacks.
(they've even begun to resent the 'stomach')




I thought at times I was a 'pack rat'. Or a 'hoarder'.
The easier label would be 'collector'. That's very non-threatening.
So I collected 1980's bmx/freestyle and skateboard stuff. All of it.
Into boxes, to be put away for who knows what reason. Just to do it.
So there's boxes and boxes of magazines. Stacks of bikes.
Everywhere.

But this wasn't the beginning. There's stacks of skate decks from
when I worked at a skate shop. Or all the shoes. When I worked at
a bike shop there was the mountain bikes, and the tools. The tools
that provided a chunk of the down payment on our house. It gets
out of control.

And the vehicles? Same problem. I know no boundries appearantly.



Take a no option Civic DX. Remove the AC, the radio, the back seat,
the carpet, headliner, door panels, rear wiper motor, the foam
behind the bumpers, the airbag, the center console...



Weld in a six point cage, tie it to the suspension. Adjustable custom
500 pound dragrace springs, so stiff that it would lift a tire
pulling into the driveway. Add atachometer, direct air intake, sway
bars, race compound tires, a custom tunable straight exhaust, swap
in a ported and polished dragrace engine... then go racing for two
seasons. And you get the idea how easily I get 'carried away'. Or
basically have no self control in filling that seemingly little
empty spot.



The car was sold years ago. Proof that my wife IS smarter than me.
The bikes? Gone. There is noticably less 'stuff' in the house.

As I started riding road bikes that urge came back. Miles were
'logged', casual group rides turned into all out sprints at the
end, and new models and upgrades were drooled over. But jerseys
have sat in the closet for the last year. That actually may have
more to do with seeing a picture of me at last years Commuter
Contest to put an end to it. I removed my computer, which was a
big change I didn't expect. Every bike has always had one. The
road shoes and pedals found a new home via eBay. The ProCycling
subscription lapsed, and was replaced with UrbanVelo & Bicycle
Times. The classic Volvo was sold off and never replaced, my
bike became my car.

I thought the 'empty spot' was gone. But if you don't know what 'it'
is, how do you know? In this case, I didn't have boxes of 'stuff'
laying around to show there was a problem, or an out of control
'hobby', it was a simple scale.

So I spend the evening with a big cold glass of water. Just as boring
as I am. And I leave the kid snacks for the kids. Six pounds are gone.
Getting back on track, and realizing that empty spot is my lack of
self control lurking around. Although it proves entertaining to my
friends, it's generally a pain in the ass that has left me smuggling a
midget for now.

back in the day...

Dizz Hicks, CW Freestyle Tour 1983 (or '84?)
bob A. photo.



man, this was when it must have REALLY set in.

Every kid gets to that age when they get a bike. It's
progression. Slowly you get those training wheels off,
then it just seems to be instinct to start jumping curbs.
Trying to clear the sidewalk, bombing down the steepest
hills in the neighborhood and park. Eventually the sketchy
tires, bricks and discarded wood are piled into ten year
old's MacGuvyer jump. The bike provides hours of exploring
and adventures with friends.

Then one day, while at the 7-11 getting Slurpees and brain
freeze, you stumble across it. The magazine that shows that
there's even more to the world you never knew existed.
BMX ACTION. The title said it all. Then they made FREESTYLIN'.
And your world completely changed. Lunch money was hoarded,
and everyday you rode to the store waiting for the new issue.

One day, there was a little ad for an upcoming tour. And then,
as you slowly scroll down the lists of cities you've never
heard of, there's yours! Plans are made. The ride to the bike
shop is like a great cross country adventure. It takes what
seems to be hours. No one mentions where we're going to their
parents, we're 'just riding around'.

It's easy to find. The crowd, a van and trailer. The quarter
pipe and bank ramp. That day, the pros were in our town. They
were as close to rock stars as we'ld ever see. Awe struck.
The sun pounded you out on the hot asphalt. Sweaty, thirsty,
and no money for a drink because you needed every quarter for
that 'World Tour' tshirt to get signed after it was all over.
The struggle to worm your way up to the pros, unable to get
word out except a muttered 'thanks' as the crowd pulls you
away and spits you out. You then, like a hundred other kids,
shuffle off to find your bike and regroup with your friends.
Slowly pedalling back home, recounting every trick, the new
bike you want, the tricks you want to learn, and how you'ld
love to be those guys traveling in a van, riding EVERY day!

Yeah, I think THAT was the summer. I wasn't bitten by the
bike bug, more like clobbered. Or picked up and slammed
into a wall. I've skated. I snowboarded. Played with cars.
Worked on motorcycles. But through all of that, and in
between most of those, there's always been bikes.

Years later I got a chance to visit the old neighborhood.
The hills weren't that big, actually they weren't hills at
all. The 7-11 wasn't that far away. The fields were small.
And the bike shop really was only a couple miles away.
Such is life. It's realitive to your experiences.

But the feeling as I throw my leg over the top tube, clip
in and start off down the street on my way to work. It's
still the same as I coasted down the driveway on my bmx
bike.

'Social Issues' show @ UAG March 6th!

Seriously struggling sometimes. I had nothing prepared, then after
a week of nonstop work, I had too much work to submit.

Then in my confused state of mind, almost missed the submission
date for the works to be juried. I sat in Buffalo with no internet
service wondering if I would actually make the selection. I even got
out of work to attend the opening night, and it seemed to all fall
apart.

In the end, it all worked out. Four works were accepted for the
'Social Issues' show opening this next Friday, March 6th! It took me
a minute, well a pen and paper, to figure out that this will be my
seventh show (sixth in a row) with a total of twentysix photos shown.
I really didn't want to miss a month, that was one of my basic goals
this year - get work into every show. I already screwed the other goal
(to loose five pounds a month going into the spring) by GAINING five
pounds this month.

*I'm not an 'athlete', I don't ride 'junk' miles, I don't like pain
and suffering - note my well worn couch. But it is ALMOST enough to
make me break out the trainer and start watching what I eat. But
that's for another time.

On a side note I was also asked by NYBC to photograph their meeting
with the Legislature this month, my first 'job', albeit a nonpaying
one.

This last week became one of those fiftyfive hour weeks, and any
other time has been alot of reflecting on what I want to do, and
what I need to do in life. The ride to and from work usually
provides some inspiration for thought, but with too much thought
my bike may become the next ghost bike, and I tend to get carried
away in thought.

Volume (BMX) Cutter buildup

I totally forgot about this..
After FBM started making 'The Sword', word was Volume was
also on the BMX-but-also-fixed-gear program. Like a reverse
training wheels program to get bmx kids onto a more socially
(read: some girls dig it) acceptable type of bike riding.
Imagine my surprise when I stumbled in to get some cleaning
stuff for that nasty chain when I found this all built up.







For about five minutes I thought 'what can I unload so I can
make this mine?'. But there's no need for something that just
sits around collecting dust (my job).

This is sold as a frameset. As spec'd with the Velocity and
Origin 8, budget $750-800. I belive it's a Taiwan frameset,
steel, and of course solid. Hey, it even has a toptube gussett,
with the Volume logo cutout. The shop did a decent build, all
color spec'd (except the stem/headset). I expect to see some
bmx kid on this in the next couple weeks.

So I grabbed a couple pics, along with the degreaser and lube.
My stuff is SOOOOOOOOO nasty from the winter commutes, pulleys
won't even go backwards, just like crappy chain suck when you
backpedal. Guess that's the sign it's time to clean.