106 Degrees

Spent the weekend with some San Francisco friends at Don Pedro Reservoir, and holy snakes that is some hot weather. The kind of heat that leads 'Mericans to sit in parked cars with the engine on, blasting the AC, while camping. I do believe that is the solution to global warming, or at least it's a step in the right direction.

These pictures were mostly taken for the pleasure of D*Pow, who walks that thin line between car-free biking lifestyle and roosting the shit out of a mudhole on a dune buggy.
Making sure your dirt bike makes that angelic "BRAAAAAAAAP" sound. Over and over and over again. Tell you what, the BRAAP SHOP certainly put Hilmar on the map.


I would have loved to get a pic of the mulleteers at the next site over who owned this boat....but I also didn't feel like getting beaten to death 4 times for my troubles. Imagine the 80's and the dudes who ran game in the auto shop classes. Dan, I told them that you were interested in just such a boat, but it sounds like they need at least 2 of your Quads and and a sack of ditch weed in order to seal the deal.

Un bon croquis vaut mieux qu'un long discours

Leaving Terrific Grove

Nothing like working yourself sillier for 6 months to earn a nice vacation, so off to Boise for 5 days and Portland for 5 more I went. Good times were had, including:

-A certain Mitch Giggles Ph. D helping to accelerate a near-streetfight by giving a bunch of cokey Boise residents Bruce Lee's patented thumbs-down to the face move. The bad guys left in handcuffs and our crew were left confused why the dudes felt so keen on staring down and getting in the face of a bunch of big ol' Wisconsin rowing and rugby dudes. A near miss for the next day's groom.


-a couple of days riding on the 8th street trails...Sidewinder and Crestline ring some bells. Hard climbs and fast descents, not so easy to climb when the little ring had a one chainsuck per revolution ratio. Didn't realize it had a gnarly tooth until I was done, so it goes when you borrow bikes.

-whitewater rafting on the Payette. Looks like I'm about to get clocked with paddle here:

-hiking at Eagle Creek to Tunnel Falls trail in Portland:







The night before Breezy had described the trail and drop-off as "precipitous". About 2 seconds later I had proclaimed Eagle Creek to be a figment of his imagination, and that it was actually just the name of some chewing tobacco he had seen. Turns out we were both right.

-Mountain biking at Browns Camp. I was too busy crashing, near-crashing, clipping out like a yellow-bellied sapsucker, having my rear tire slide 90 degrees from the trail off of wet roots, etc. to take any trail pictures. It was fun, but might be more my speed when it was drier rather than after the rain. Or maybe I just need to harden up. As a wiser man than myself once said, "opinions vary".

Did get a group pic at the waterfalls during the ride:

Xtra Cycle...killah! Norman Bates

3 years in the making, we finally built up the Xtracycle frame that Katie received for turning English into French for Planet Bike. The bike was purchased off of CL for a smooth $150, so all in all a pretty cheap way to conjure up a cargo bike.

I gotta admit, slaving over a hot Specialized Crossroads brought me back to the pseudo-halcyon days of being a bike assembler at Budget, before Specialized decided they didn't want bike shops to sell their stuff if they weren't exclusive. The setup was hard to beat, separate from the retail stores so we could be as faded as we wanted to be while earning some decent dimes. Don't get much chance at the current job to blast Dr. Octagon and crank on canned beer. Then again, I can die happy knowing I'll never touch another Fuji "Marlboro Miles" Folding bike (collectible!), BikeE recumbent, or Raleigh M30 16" Ladies bike, of which the owner got a deal on several hundred.

Here's the (nearly) finished product:

Phil Collins is a hack

but Levon will set you straight.

ISO Free charter jet to Madison.....

....last Sunday of every month only

The boys of the abandoned building are still doing it live. I'd pay big money at that kissing booth:

image courtesy of Djonnymac; that flutter in your heart courtesy of ZRCycles

Dope is on the Way!

A recent flurry of inactivity might possibly end sometime soon. As a recap, this happened:

Turns out I had a class III sprain on all of the major ankle tendons. Recommended!

Which left me doing lots of this:

And very little of this:

But, I did a 2 hr bike ride at Ft. Ord yesterday with some MORCAN's and the cankle doth not protest. My friend Sand has taken over that area and his main man Poison Oak is doing well. My favorite section has been closed for improvements (housing), it appears The Man is also doing well.

Unjustice

Remember how funny my cankle looked? Well, it is STILL funny, so funny in fact I can't walk without a limp and can't see mountain biking in any near future. In the words of Lorenzo Lamas, "NOT".

At least I got me a gel cast and a negative X-ray today. Called my friend Charlie to keep any and all creeps away from my vulnerable hoof until it's back to solid state.

Purple Cankles

Some things are good for my ankles, but soccer is not one of them. Like Momma always said....."rub some 'Tussin on that damn shit!"

Outer Foot

Inner Foot

I gotta spend the next three days in rivers gimping around like a wino. Can't complain about a trip to Arroyo Seco though, even if it is for class and we aren't camping overnight but driving back and forth both days. What the hell has happened when geology students don't camp overnight in the field, or even have gear for it? As an undergrad I might have been too hungover to process any new information, but at least I was there sipping brandy by the campfire. Dropped more than more share of "Come Sail Away" songbombs on my fellow students too.

Condor is the new Spirit Wolf

Snuck off to Pinnacles National Monument this weekend for a well-deserved day and a half break from the working sucker life. Our third trip there, and after getting shut out for California Condor viewing the first two, we got a snoot-full and a half this time. We watched a flock of 8 or 9 buzzing around and over our heads for about 2 hours Saturday.

Katie for scale

I could link to some good photography with telephoto lenses, but who needs that when you can see how a standard digital camera rolls. Pictures don't do their size justice at any rate.

Messing around in the talus caves

Modern day Atlas

Grade A harassling

Purdy as a vulture

Forget it Jake.....it's Shawtown

Friday. 4 pm. The kind of hour that working stiffs the world over dream about all week long. Not me though. You don't stay in the private dick racket by taking weekends off, and you sure as hell don't look forward to idle time when you got problems like mine. Alimony, taxes, high-arched feet....you name it, I've lived it...twice. Not to mention the owner of the firm, a real Dick, has been breathing down my neck all week about my lack of progress. I'd like to see him handle some of these mugs I'm trailing. Can't wait for the day I give ol' Oney his.

4:15 the phone rings. I stub out my cigarette into the overflowing coffee can and pick it up. Frantic voice on the line.....something about an underpass and a bad man with a bad plan....and a dame. Dammit it sounds like a setup, but I'm a sucker for the dames. One of these days they'll be the death of me, but not today. I gotta get even before I get dead.

I hop on my clunker and head up the ravine. Aguajito is a mess, rich people driving around in nice cars. Should have been my first sign to turn around. These kind of people shouldn't be here. Not now.

I get to the first bridge, right before the hospital, and a hunch tells me I'm about to drum up some business. Underneath the bridge something catches my eye. A plastic bag. I've seen this before, and I swore I could smell that scorched motor oil.

A closer look and it wasn't a body. But what it was sent chills down my spine. What kind of a sick fuck leaves moldy garlic bread for me to find? Where's the dame? And why do I kind of want pasta for supper?

On to the second bridge, where I knew it was Showdown City. I parked the Cross-Check out of site and tipped my bicyling helmet squash hat to cover my face. Something in the same bridge corner as the garlic bread grabbed my eye. A closer look.......and there she was! The dame looked a little roughed up, but was double bagged (our man is a confirmed Safeway shopper), and most importantly had beers.

Some days I don't even know what side I'm on anymore, but once in awhile, for that slimmest of moments, I remember how I got into this mess in the first place. Big things. Things like Justice. Dames. Cycling. Screaming down hwy 68 with yahoos driving the shoulders through corners. So if you see me out there, say a little prayer for me. And God help the day that comes when I finally catch the cat that's been shitting in my garden.

Cold Front

No dammit, you're not even listening to me, I said COLD FRONT.

Ok that's better. The morning temperatures here have been sniffing near the crack of frozenness this week, and I for one am not used to it. All that nonsense about growing up in winterland doesn't mean you don't get cold, although people wearing coats and/or biking with facemasks here when it is 60 degrees is another story.

What kind of a world do we live in when a grown man can't hop on his excessively nice road bike, don his nancy spandex tights, and put on a silly headband without getting a chill?

The ol' Pike in the sweatshirt trick

Don't you ever change, west central Wisconsin...........

Contest-winning fish smuggled in sweatshirt

By Theresa Schneider
Leader-Telegram staff

Something smelled fishy at Saturday's Somerset Youth Athletic Association Ice Fishing Contest at Bass Lake: the former winner's sweatshirt.

Lee Shehow of New Richmond, crowned the winner of the contest Saturday, may face criminal charges after admitting to smuggling in the fish to win the contest, keeping it alive in his sweatshirt during the tournament.

Shehow, 38, won Saturday's contest with a 2.42-pound northern pike. Suspicions were raised about Shehow's fish, leading to an investigation, said SYAA spokesman John Montpetit.

Shehow later disqualified himself and gave up the keys to the contest's grand prize, a $27,000 Dodge Dakota pickup truck.

The contest began at noon Saturday. At about 2:30 p.m. Shehow went to the weigh station with his pike.

Undercover investigators at the tournament questioned Shehow's actions. Montpetit said a primary concern was that Shehow bought water at a pace that was inconsistent with what a normal person would drink on a 14-degree day.

Shehow's sweatshirt also was soaked when he turned in his fish to the weigh station.

During the investigation Shehow admitted he hid the pike in his sweatshirt, keeping it alive and later registering it at the weigh station. Montpetit said he could not discuss where the fish came from, but said Shehow admitted to having aquariums in his house.

While no criminal charges have been filed, the case still is under investigation, Montpetit said.

The truck was given Tuesday afternoon to the second-place winner, 26-year-old Monica Slimmen of La Crosse, who caught a 1.72-pound northern pike.

Efforts to contact Shehow on Tuesday night were unsuccessful.

Schneider can be reached at 833-9203 or 800-236-7077.

Return of the Revenge of Rainy Friday Nights

David Lynch has some awesome hair and talks about using ants and dead rats to make paintings.


Jack Nance at 50 looked like he's 80 and is a good example of how something so innocent sounding (drinking yourself to death) can go so wrong. Funny guy, didn't seem real different from Pete in Twin Peaks, which makes him damn near perfect in my book.

The highlight was Dean Stockwell talking about Dennis Hopper and Blue Velvet. He knew Dennis in real life, and knew just how crazy he was going to play Frank Booth, so he came up with the Ben character being even weirder than Frank. Don't forget, Ben's THE MAN.

Nude Fatties on the Beach

The lady and I crept up to Ano Nuevo on Monday, which is home to a large (the largest?) rookery of elephant seals every winter.

Started off with a stroll through the redwoods, found a couple of the best guys I know, Newt and Banana Slug:




Don't let the pictures fool you, these guys love being hassled.

This picture looks like I just spent 45 minutes "stocking tubes with Ruckus in the shop basement". Not sure where that face came from.


After our stroll we went to check out the seals. They are maybe the craziest beasts I've seen. They spend half their life diving several thousand feet down in the middle of the ocean for fish, and the other half laying on the beach.





After the pups are weaned, they bunch up in "weaner pods" as seen below. Pups who take multiple mothers become "super weaners" and grow fatter than the other pups, and basically become aggressive dicks.

A group of chuckleheads on our tour couldn't resist asking our elderly guide "how big do the super weiners grow?" She just gave him the straight answer, I think she was secretly pissed she didn't think of it first.