Christie's Auction of Punk Items: Know Your Stuff! Or else get ripped off!

Christie's Auction of Punk Items: Know Your Stuff!
Someone had pointed out to me the other day that the auction house Christie was going to auction off some items from the late 70's-80's, including some "rare" Clash memorabilia. Being a long time fan of The Clash (Note:I own all the music, own many/most of the known live recordings that were never sold publicly and have all the books outside of a few Fluff ones...I have no use for a Clash coloring book for example but do have a collection of intellectual essays describing the effect of the Clash on 20th century culture: many contend they were one of the bands to bring rap to the forefront with their early release of the "Magnificent Dance" which played heavily on WBLS in NYC.) I was curious and hoped to even bid on some items that I thought were worthy of a collector. Sadly, I have to say I was disappointed and terribly annoyed by what I found on the Christie site: Lack of due diligence on their part really infuriated me as I felt it was totally misleading to the potential bidder.

Know your Stuff!

On the site Christie's lists this being an album having been signed by everyone from the band implying everyone who worked/created this 3 record album. Signatures on the album cover: Joe Strummer (check), Mick Jones (check), Paul Simonon (check) and finally Terry Chimes....Hmmm. Terry Chimes? Did Terry Chimes work on the album? NOT.

Seriously Christie's are you so daft not to even check the liner notes. Original and true member Topper Headon (wrote and recorded "Rock the Casbah") drummed on this album. It is a nice to have Chimes signature, but he did not play on the album. He may have played on certain dates on the supporting tour due to some health issues Headon had (he fell into some heavy drug use during this time), but in no way did he play/write on this album. I would be surprised if he even spoke to the members of the Clash during this time. Chimes did play on the first album, but soon after recording he left the band because he wanted to be in rock n'roll for the sex, drugs and fancy cars and he soon learned that the Shepard's Bush boys had NO interest in the trappings of success and the filthy lucre of "the man." Terry was credited on the first album with a faux name: Torry Crimes.

For any true collector this album cover signed by the members of the band is not significant enough to warrant the price. DO NOT WASTE YOUR MONEY.

Are you stupid? This print is not bad, but worth the asking price? The price is too obscene for this site. I have seen similar prints for less on eBay, so don't waste your cash. But the stupid part to this auction lot is the inclusion of a "rare" promo poster for "Cut the Crap" album....No Clash fan ever brings up "Cut the Crap", as it was the album that came after Joe and Mick had their falling out (Mick left/got kicked out). No true Clash fan would ever hang on their wall a poster for "Cut The Crap" because as Joe said years later in a radio interview (yes I have that recorded as well...I can play 7 degrees of separation with Joe Strummer....usually only takes me 3 degrees) that the album should have been called "Cut the Shit" because it was shit. DO NOT WASTE YOUR MONEY.

Pretty Good:
I thought this item for auction was of note because of the "two for a fiver!" The Clash made this album somewhat against the wishes of the record company as a two album set: the record company wanted 2 seperate albums and the Clash insisted on "London Calling" being one long play double record album. It is of note because the Clash were always about the fan. The Sandinista album was a three album set for the price of one and almost was not released because the Clash were so adamant about having a big album for their fans. (Note: they went so far as to hide the master tapes in a vault refusing to budge on this issue till the record company complied)

The only thing that is worth a dime:

This is a poster from the Bond's show, which was a monumental series of shows. When ever I meet someone who is 10 years my senior who was into music and lived in NY at the time I always ask if they went to the Bonds show. One of the most important series of live shows. Futura, and Grand Master Flash played at the show highlighting the music revolution known as rap that was in its infancy.

This would be the only thing worth bidding on.

I started to go through all the Sex Pistol memorabilia in order to pick it apart and then I remembered something: No one reads my blog so why do I care if people would be stupid enough to waste their money on unimportant pieces of pop culture? I don't.

From another era.

Vintage Bicycle Advertisement, originally uploaded by Lee Sutton.

From another era. Nostalgia has such a strong pull.

The Sickness...

The sickness seems to infiltrate every pore of my body till I start to literally itch. No, I am not referring to the cold I am currently enduring. The sickness is the unadulterated desire I have to get out into the fresh air and pedal. Making circles, deep breathing and world going by is akin to meditation for me. Sometimes I ride with friends. Other times I am solo. When I am solo, music plays in my ears and my mind goes to other places. Always good times.

The sickness is the yearning to ride no matter what the cost. Having missed a prime Sunday that was beautiful with the sun shining and the air crisp due to my newly found cold, I am really itching to ride even though I am having a hard time breathing at the moment. And a nice Saturday that was spent mountain biking on terrain that did not suit my SS (note: mountain bike pushing) and thus did not really meet my requirements. Requirements? Yes, that which keeps me normalized. For some they find their fix in cigarettes or the bottle (medicinal or alcoholic), but I find my requirements to be that of long rides of endless pedaling.

I keep thinking of rides up 9w to get cafe con leche. Slight chill in the air. Sun shining, air fresh and a bunch of miles.  

And while it might be hard for me to breathe because of the lung butter that I seem to be coughing up,  all I can think about is going for that elusive long fall ride. The days are going by and soon winter will be here and it will be over for a bit. 

It is a sickness.

Sick and being productive...

Can anything be more boring than to be sick and productive when the sun is out and the weather is the epitome of beautiful Fall? Surely not.

Sunday: Caught some sort of head cold and instead of being stubborn and riding I opted to go through a bunch of junk I should have gone through years ago: some interesting finds amidst my trash/junk. Old pictures, letters, mementos and other items that at one time or another carried some emotional weight. Sometimes it is good to let go of things that might be weighing you down.

Junk on my stereo:

Midnight Oil- The Dead heart

Big Audio Dynamite- Everybody Needs a Holiday

Joe Strummer and the Mescalleros- Guy at the border

Stuff that is not so productive:
This guys needs to eat- Another reason why I was never a pro racer: I like to eat.

Good ideas: Icarus should be taught in pre-school.


So you think you can pedal smooth?

Brooklyn Post Numero tres....

Oddly, the owner of the Brooklyn featured below is in this video (fast forward to 43 seconds): thanks Prolly. http://prollyisnotprobably.com/

Empire from Empire on Vimeo.

BMW Luke

BMW Luke, originally uploaded by John Prolly.

Not sure what happened to one of the nice guys of Brooklyn Machine Works but that is a pretty good nose bleed.

I seem to be posting alot about BMW these days....

MBR Editor update:
I am sick...caught a cold and stayed in bed all day Sunday with a fever. Being sick is not fun.

Friday: seen on the street

Seen on the Street

Seen on the street: SS was kind of to snap these pictures of pretty blue Brooklyn Machine Works for me. I love the color with the white decals. I wondered what kind of messenger would be running a way old skool Selle San Marco saddle. For many pros of the 1980's and mid 1990's it was THE saddle: Indurain, Armstrong to name a few sat perched on the Rolls. Heavy for sure, but a solid saddle. I had one for a nano moment and then decided it was too big and went back to Selle Italia Flite. At the time, it was real leather (maybe even calve skin leather) which required a certain amount of respect in terms of up keep.
Brooklyn seems to be kicking out these bikes as I have seen many "Gangsta" out on the road as of recent....I even saw a pair of their pimped out hard tails rolling up 3rd ave. Pretty rare sight but cool sight: means Brooklyn Machines Works is doing OK....and who does not want BMW to be rocking? Joe is cool and deserves a little wind at his back. (Note: not sure Joe would appreciate the roadie reference since he is a die hard big tire guy.)

Chris and the pizza I still owe him:

This made my day: Finding an old friend.
In my last 2 years of higher schooling in the remote out post of Maine, there was a young guy who rode dirt and skinny who came from an island in the Atlantic. Outside of being a nice person, and a strong rider, it was very self evident that he walked to his own beat: he was not made to dwell/work amidst the machine and collect the trappings. There are freaks who were quirky for the sake of being different and then those who moved in life differently because they saw the world differently than the rest of us. Chris thought outside of the box back then and so to find him via the inter-web 15 years later on his own trail that he had broken on his own, showed that he had not deviated. For some reason it gave me hope for humanity to know there were people who are not corporate followers and who are trying to make a difference at the ground level.

That is Chris Ryan and his special pink haired sweet.
I had seen him a few years back at an adventure race (he was working it and I was doing it) where he had told me he was about to embark on a cross country traverse on a bike to raise awareness for some cause he had taken up. It turns out he did the trip twice. Freakishly hard.

While surfing pictures of the recent Portland hand made bike show (side note: In my humble estimation this maybe is the third best true bike show in the world after North American Hand Made Bike Show and the Euro show in Germany based upon the quality of hand made work...not the mass made stuff) I commented on one of his pictures unbeknowst to me. He wrote me back saying we knew each other and while it took me a minute (he had changed his last name) I knew exactly who he was: he rode a Cannondale in college (most people I know by what bike they ride). In fact I still owed him a pizza for a deal he brokered for me when I was selling one of my bikes. Chris, pick the date and send me the number and I will order you up a pizza for you and Ms. Sweet Pink.

We exchanged a few emails and it turns out he is a published write: a feat I hold with the highest regard. He now lives in Oregon and is working on his next projects. This is his shingle he put out on the web: http://www.thebibleofanimalfeet.com/

Chris: Thank you for knowing it was me and writing me to say hello: it made my day.

I am always amazed how the vast world feels and yet how close we all are.

Weekend update:Big.

This weekend marked the beginning of cold weather riding. Days of farmer tans have been packed away till next season (unless I make a trip to Florida...).
Saturday:

Saturday was a road ride as I had plans in the afternoon to do an errand down town to pick up a piece of metal shelving. Shelving turned out to be a bust for reasons that sound suspect. I would have rather been out on the trails.

I bumped into SS at the entrance of the park and coaxed her into a few laps in the park at a steady pace. We talked about nothing of importance other than the color of pink and payphones. She soon disappeared after finishing up her ride and I hit out for a few fast laps. Pushed it a little trying to find my legs and my rhythm: some days it is there and other days it is not. And while the form was anything but, the day was gorgeous and a reminder that fall is golden with the cooler but sunny days and bright coolers of the leaves.

Sunday:



Swung down town not too early on Sunday morning to head north with LD to Blue Mountain. After a fair amount of coffee, I was anxious to head out. It felt like ages since I had done a good old fashioned bike ride in the woods. It is funny what we miss and what we don't miss.

Leaves covered the trail leaving one to ride by feel and by memory. The ground was dry so it was not too treacherous but slippery enough to keep you focused.

The first order of business was the new re-route of the Mix Monster. The verdict:The trail gods have out done themselves with the new routes. Carved into the side of the hill, the trail climbs up a series of switch backs. It is tough climbing, but one could fantasize the descent as they pedaled (or pushed in my case...The trail is not that SS friendly on the way up: too technical and too steep) to top.


New stunts littered the trail like this rock crossing to boulder: I bailed on it fearing that I would face plant but the LD cleaned it with out thinking about. This trail is not for the weak of mind, body or skill.


We opted to use this point as the turn around to head back down the sweet switch back singletrack: mmmm. Although we rode some of the other trails, this was the highlight of the day.The ride lasted a few hours, which was just right in my estimation. I could have gone longer for sure, but at a certain point your return on fun starts to diminish and I think we hit it just right today.


Yeah...I am dirt bag. I wore the same jersey two days in a row. No, I did not wash it.

The Mega Ride

Have you ever been half-way through a ride, 40 miles from home on roads that you don't know, sitting at the back, barely holding on, legs burning, not contributing a dam thing other than taking space up, praying to some God (any God will do at this point) there is a respite in the rampage at the front? And to top it off, you find your self in unenviable position of having to use the trees at the side of the road as a makeshift bathroom.

To lose contact is not an option as the pack is your homing beacon guide and there is no way you possibly catch back on after you have struggled to pull your shorts down and take a moment to breathe in and then relieve oneself. They would be long gone before you could jump off your bike.



"Hold tight a little longer" you whisper to yourself at first. Steadily the voice becomes louder as you beg for a respite to the bike Gods: The admission to slow down is akin to admitting the worst personal fear. You do not want to show weakness. You tell yourself with little conviction that you can hold on: "I can stay on".

Legs burn slowly and you hope the road stays flat. You hide from the wind and crouch down further hoping to squeeze every bit of the advantage out of the moment. It is just survival.

With the lactic acid building up, the desire to fight fading and the realization that even if one were to last another mile at most by pushing yourself to the end of the rope, that still leaves 39 more miles to go. You wonder how you will get home on unfamilar roads.

The ride is over for you.

And just as you prepare to jettison out the back, and say your good byes to the comrades of the road, the pace slows and word travels back that those at the front of the pack driving the pace needed to stop for a nature break.

There has been a stay of execution and relief is found on several different levels.

My Own Private Roubaix.

Yesterday I rolled bike style to work and took a brief trip through the roads of Northern France via the Fulton fish market area (strange that there is no more fish market anymore...it smells better, but it is weird to think that future generations of NY'ers will never know of the fish market. There was nothing to see really when it was there, but it was a landmark that was crushed by the onslaught of development to make more condos...the story of NY being victimized by money is another post altogether.). 

For the briefest of times I imagined I was a racer from 50 years ago amidst the hell of the north on a gear less bike and wearing cotton and wool: Old school racers were hard, closer to boxing brutes than their fragile skinny counterparts of today.  They were men who had either come from the farm or the factory who had the briefest of chances of making something of themselves or else they would remain as the indentured servant of their meager struggle for existance. For many, it was the one chance to make it and they fought like killer animals in the hope to bring something home to eat for the family before the long winter. They were hungry and hard.
I did two laps of the "course" (which amounted to twice around the block) with my heavy bag of crap (I love to over pack...) in which I tried my best to wind it up a little in the straight sections only to take the corners with caution.  Knowing that the pave of France is sort of similar (ok, not quite. Fulton's stone section has no dirt and there are areas of stone that are more dangerous because of the larger gaps. The French stone sections also tend to be almost "polished" because of the years of use) and then making it my own today here in NY was the highlight of the day. Maybe the week.

I am off to re-create the race of the dead leaves on river road shortly. Lombardia is tomorrow and is one of the great one day races. I wont pretend to be at the front with the leaders, but I will be there amongst the crazed tifosi on the side of the road. Pedal harder.

Where are you riding today? 

Endorsement

Rarely do I come out strongly endorsing someone/something, but if you are cyclist and you are not reading Yehuda Moon every time you log into your computer you are missing out.

I think part of the appeal is that one has to wait roughly 24 hours to follow the plot. It reminds me of radio serials from another age before video killed the radio (star). That was bad. Ok, so maybe I never listened to radio serials, but I did use to cut out the Calvin Hobbes from the papers every day.
Having been a bike shop boy for way many years the characters resonate with me on so many levels. I identify with the characters easily and the shop reminds me of Rose's Bike Shop in Orono from back in the day (very early 90's). Jim Rose reminds me of Joe. Ahh, memories: Not much better than good ones.

Anyway, it is good stuff. Read up.

Old friends and new Friends...

Replacing faithful long time friends with new a set of new friends can be traumatic, especially when it is the ever so important pair of bike shoes.

For a long time these have been my trusty go-to shoe. Sure, there have been Northwaves or Carnacs in the mix, but no shoe do I value more than a Sidi shoe. The durability of the leather (lorica in Sidi speak) is unsurpassed. The stitching, which has been the demise of some of my other shoes, has been solid and has never once been anything but seemless in excellence for performance.

But like most everything, there is a shelf life. The products, do and will wear away with use. And as much as I love these shoes, their tenure is coming to an end. The leather is starting to wear thin in a coupleof spots due to the grazes that might occur from mountain biking (a better bike might be able to ride more sections, and thus never have to put his/her foot down in the coarse rocks), and the sole is getting to the point where the grip is less than adequate. Well used and well loved, these dogs are close to their end.

And with that in mind, I decided to jump on another set of Sidi's that I saw on eBay for $135: A steal when comapred to retail prices on Sidi's at your loacl cycling emporium. Between the Euro crushing the dollar and the inflation of the world due to energy prices, buying a new set of Sidi's from a shop will now just be a memory. As a former bike shop employee, I hate paying retail and I hate paying retail even more for stuff that has roughly doubled in price over the last couple of years. I know, it makes me a bad person for not buying from a local bike shop. Fiscally it is no longer an option. I am not going to defend my actions further.
When the new shoes arrived I was amazed at how smooth the leather was and how full the lugs were on the sole. Ahhh, the smell of new shoes compared to the smell of perma dank that occupies my never thoroughly dry Sidis.
Side by side: The one aspect of the new shoes that I was not sure of is the mesh section. Will the mesh hold up long term compared to the all lorica version? Pessimistically, I doubt it. But who knows.

I plan on keeping the old shoes: they still work beautifully, just sort of ugly to the eyes.

The old shoes have been great companions: I have used them in at least 7 states, 3 countries, 2 continents and have served me well. For whatever reason, I love owning a piece of equipment that lasts a long time. Hopefully the new kicks will serve me well.

Punching the power and Pretty Vacant:

I could extol the virtues of the fall ride till the cows came home but I will leave that to every other bike blog on the planet. I will just say it is sweet. October may be my favorite month here in NYC.


Instead I will bore you with last nights ride: 6 laps in the park. 2 nice and easy, 2 fast and friendly and 2 for the dead(fast). End result is that my legs are fried and not such a gentle reminder that my form is coming along after hanging with some fast guys (comfortably) for a good bit. Form is coming again and it was nice to know that I was hanging with the fast guys at the top of Harlem hill when a slew of folks got jettisoned off the back including Paulie, AM and few guys decked out in their club kits and aero wheels.


Pretty vacant:
No I am not talking about the vapid blond who has that vacant stare in her eyes that says that her head was last inhabited back in the Regan administration. "Pretty Vacant" is the Sex Pistols song that I was rocking out to this AM. If it is not in your library, run out and get it quick.

Genius

I had a great ride in the park last night: when the temperature starts to fall it takes all the amateurs out of the equitation and leaves a world class track open for fast mindless laps. Rode with the crew for 6 laps or so at a decent pace chitty chatting the whole time: Team Polska, Joe, AM and few stragglers. Pace was good but not too fast that it left you breathless. Tonight will be the same again as the youngest of team Polska is back in town from college and is a good excuse to do some social lap riding.

After the ride I had my ritual meal: Whole wheat pasta and two cans of tuna. Light and so satisfying. 

Catching up with friends while riding and eating the ritual meal: Genius. Life could not be much better than that.

The Interweb

The world at one point in time must have seemed infinitely vast. I am sure it must have been hard to imagine life outside of ones hamlet in the 14th century. Today, distance has no more meaning. Connection with people can occur just about anywhere through technology.

Through the Interweb I found an old acquittance: Erin. She used to work in a Bike Shop here in NYC and now occasionally makes a rock star appearance ("hello Bicycle Habitat!") there.

What made the connection nice and noteworthy, is that she seemed good. It is nice to hear someone positive these days.

Looking back: July 22, 2001

Looking back: July 22, 2001 Do you ever look back in time and remember the day so vividly that you wonder if it was yesterday? Some pieces of bike time seem to be ingrained in ones mind, as if they had been hard wired by the great divine trail maker in the sky. Sorry roadies, no bike god for you. I Never forget some pieces of bike time no matter what. Some of them take my breath away as they are as real as anything in that very moment.

It could be that moment when you have the flow and can do wrong. Or when you clean a section you have been dying to do since the start. Or that monstrous over the bars that makes you question for a millisecond why you did not take up ping-pong instead.



On that day I rode with Jack, Joanne and Adam. Friends that are brighter than the sun on its best day.


I managed to ride like a mad man and come through unscathed until the last little tricky rock descent which I took at full speed. I sprinted the climb as I knew I had some folks on my tail and I wanted to throw down the gauntlet and arrive back at the car wellin front of everyone. I should have slowed down and taken it with a little caution but instead I hit like a fool and next thing I know I am at the bottom of the hill with the air knocked out of me.

What a great day.



Fast Forward: April 29th, 2007.

Fast forward some years later and I again have fallen and are bleeding from the same leg. Same bike. Same brand of shoes, but not the same shoes.

Some things never change.

The dances we do for our friends and family & The Parsons Project

The dances we do for our friends and family...

It has been awhile since I posted any Calvin and Hobbes but this one rang true for me today.

Lazy Days:

Slept till 10.30AM...That felt entirely too good and that might become a habit if I am not careful.

Parsons Project:

I finished the Parsons Project and mailed it off yesterday with a note promising I was not too much of a weirdo, but just someone who is making art for strangers. The number 2 and 3 of the project are getting done and I hope to ship number 2 off next week (he-he, he said number two). I hope to make this a weekly ritual. Ritual being the key word.

I am sure it might be a little odd to get something  that looks like a 3rd grader made in the mail from a complete stranger. I don't exactly know why I am interested in doing this right now, but I think part of the appeal for me is to let some one know that I appreciated their pictures/blogs that they have posted openly and I have some how found. 

The Parsons Project started because read his blog about winter commutes on a pink Independent Fabrication as he got ready for a season of SS racing.  And while I am not sure I would be friends with Thom if we lived in the same town, I do think he is smart and interesting. He recently went to the Single Speed World Championships (how he got into the worlds is another story and adds to the character that he is:Miriam Rocks!) in Napa and crossed the line in 11th place. Now for most, 11th would not seem that great (it is pretty great still), but when you factor in the number of super fast guys who are pros, were pros or can race fast like a pro, it is/was a great feat. On top of it he was number 1 East Coaster: Fuck Ya! It was of note and I thought it was worth recognition. I  don't know him, but I think he at least deserved some of his words highlighting his experience on a pretty blue water color back ground, and a hot "1" commemorating the fact he was numero uno east coast fast guy on a single speed. 

Anyway, that is the story.

Taking a long time to do this one dot at a time.....

"That's 'ard...."

Serious course with many a beginner's having no business being there. It is a technical race course. Outside of Ned's climb, which is loose rock steep climb, there is very little in the way of easy. Healthy dose of hard for all you sick and twisted.

The rents are coming. I think the last time they came to a race(High School circa 1990...) they yelled out for me to slow down. I just hope they don't walk out onto the course and get hit or something stupid....Sometimes it is easier when no one is there you know and that way you can focus on being present.

The training has been erratic due to the stress level of work. Not making excuses but ever since I ran myself into the ground I can either be riding strongly or not...no clue what will be next. Weight fluctuates up and down with the wind. Legs are ok. Whatever. It is just a race, which is nothing more than a fast group ride with no stopping.

Anyway, that is what is on the docket for me this weekend.

Musings of the Restless Bike Boy:

Musings of the restless bike boy-
The solitude of riding often adds fires to the restlessness of my inner bike boy. My mind wanders to the lustful side of desire: what chariot do I fantasize building up next?
Since I am now very secure about my lock space and its reasonable safety from thieves, my mind has idled and then stopped on the idea of a slightly nicer (ok much nicer) commuting beast. I rationalize it by telling myself I already have a set of way nice wheels (new old stock Campy Record hubs, freewheel, spaced to 130 and nicely laced to Mavic CXP's…Another eBay purchase which for 100 bucks or so was a super sweet snag.) and a bunch of other parts that I could build into a way nice 1 speed cross bike. If I sold my Redline I would really only need about four dollars to build a beast of a bike. I like building bikes that are under budget constraints: I think I could build a mega sweet 1 speed cross/commuter bike for about 800 dollars: so I figure if I get 400 for my Redline it would only take another 400 to have a really racey girl for going back and forth from work on.

Some examples of what I might build: Ridley frames from a few years ago are going for about 200-400 bucks on eBay. I have even seen a few smaller builders bikes show up for about 500: there is a brand new Paul Taylor with a Ritchey fork for 600 bucks on eBay now…that is a sweet deal. Kona, RedLine, VooDoo, Fort: all sorts of options in the 400 dollar range. But I digress as often my eyes are bigger than my stomach.
The build: Up right bars (On One Space bars, Nitto 'stache or something like that), slightly easier gear compared to the 50x18 I push now, big fast racing knobby tires and v brakes (brakes on the Black Betty suck). Fenders. MMM.

Bikes are transitory for me. Like GF's, at a certain point early on in the relationship you know they wont be around forever.
At first you are excited that this one (bike or girl) is a keeper, then you find there is no chemistry and so off she goes to her next owner/boyfriend via eBay/Match.com. Some of the girls in the stable never make it very far: sometimes I buy a frame and then decide building a new bike is a pain so I sell it. Transitory. Here today, but surely gone tomorrow. I only have 1 bike that is a true keeper: Independent Fabrications Ti Crown Jewel. She is a keeper: Stable, beautiful and special. Thoroughbred and a classy show pony who might get a re-paint this winter. Listen to me wax poetic like a kook about an inanimate object. I have gone off the deep end. Time to go.

Pink BMW with a front brake...

leeds fixed gear meet 15.07.08, originally uploaded by monomaniac(tom).

This is a Brooklyn bike I think I would actually like. Front brake and a coaster would be perfect for general riding.

Rain Ride: Foolish and Single

I had every intention of riding laps last night on my road bike. Easy spins while day dreaming of better times was what I hungered for. Tunes, selfish time and deep breathing: what more could a boy want?

Foolish and Single: While I hoped for a mindless road ride, the weather decided for me that it was not to be. Road ride in the rain was out of the question: skiny tires too questionable in the rain and require me to focus on the road more than I wanted to. The rain fell with little fanfare: It was not a storm but a constant drizzle. I imagined Portland Oregon. Foolish to ride in the rain? A little. It is not that good for the bike and a little more dangerous than normal because of the slippery nature of water on pavement. Foolish for sure, but I needed a little fresh air and so after taking most of the air out my tires I was off for the night on my single speed.

I wanted to ride, so I rode. Music blared as I crept around the park in the dark: Big Audio Dynamite, Peaches, Alice Cooper, Interpol, Yes, The English Beat and The Psychedelic Furs. Random and rad. Life is better with music.

The 32x20 dictates one thing: I am spinning at max speed on anything other than a climb. I rode the horse trails blind. Your perception of speed in the dark is skewed to making you believe it is faster than it really is. A few laps on the horse trails, walk ways and foot paths made for a pleasant time in the rain. Illicit to ride on anything but the road with a bike in Central park...but I am just that kind of guy who is willing to take a risk of getting bopped by a Park Department guy riding around in a golf cart. I tried to keep a low profile by wearing a neon green Pearl Izumi jacket and a pair of Camo shorts: half Stealth? Half stealth makes no sense and sounds like something the defense department would brag about. Not much is truelly illuminated in the interior of the park so I relied on the willingness of my suspension fork to take the hits from rocks and holes to get me through. And although I did take a full tumble (it was my own fault for trying to balance on a set of steps in the wet...rear tire slipped sending me flying), the night ride was fun.

I rode for an hour and 45 minutes rarely seeing anyone other than some bi-peds (runners) amidst their self punishment session. Not too bad to have the park to yourself.

Night Ride: Shake Out

Night Ride:

Rode the cross bike in the park last night for 90 minutes. Did some sprints up Harlem hill via the walk way/grass section to add a few more feet at a steeper incline to give me that slight Tour of Flanders feel. Nothing to serious as I forgot water and so I was parched mid way through. Then sat off the back of two local pros for Empire as they spun a 53x17 like it was nothing for a lap...I was not equipped gear wise to hold on to those wheels even if I had been sitting on real tight instead of 15 feet back.

Shake Out: Made some changes on my cross bike as I get ready for the Iron Cross in PA: 62 miles on all dirt roads with a mega hike a bike section and a little single track. I think it makes sense to ride the bike a few times before you actually race it, right? For starters, I installed some Paul sissy cross brake levers and Deda bar tape: Nice. I am not sure why I dont run them brake levers on all my bikes. Paul makes some nice stuff. The Deda bar tape is nice and a welcome change from the Fizik or Stella bar tape I have been using recently. I think next wrap I will get the same tape and install the Fizik bar gel I have.
Continental tires: Nice stuff. I would like a bigger tire so I can run less air. These puppies are light and would be awesome on wet dirt roads.
Thomson: Threw a new post on after deciding that the USE post I had before was too finicky to set up. Heavier for sure, but less of a pain to adjust. Still needtotry and dial the seat in as my back hurt a little after the ride: my road bike is much more stretched out and comfy. Installed a USE seat but I think I will go back to my Fizik saddle that I had on it before.

Will be out again tonight doing endurance and hopefully I will get the saddle dialed.

Until later, always tailwinds.