I am saddened to learn that our friend Lee passed away last night.
Before riding with the Bicycle Place groups, I befriended Lee while doing the 10:00 and Goon, he a rare face of sanity and style on two of the most meshuggeneh rides around. We met up on random centuries, one which introduced him to the HPC List team where his climbing prowess was well exhibited. Twice we rode the Civil War Century and although he effortlessly crested the summits, my "stumpy" legs were determined to keep up. Despite our differing strengths, Lee was always a terrific riding partner and with a wit that put my labored puns to shame.
No one was immune from his jest. My wife was on the Sunday Ride when he pointed out that it was only appropriate that she rode a Klein (German for "small"). His status as the self-appointed but universally acknowledged style czar and his biting critique of those who strayed is legendary.
Lee will be missed but never forgotten.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Perhaps people purveyed this information, but there is a wicked wheel eating pothole at the top of Democracy soon after the right turn out of the Other-Haves Lives neighborhood.
How do I know this? Glad you asked.
I was in the N2 Poolesville Paceline winding up for that-stretch-of-road-where-we-go-fast-up-to-that-sign-covered-with-trees (non-sprint) when Steve (back to him later) warned of a "Hole!!!"
On his wheel, I never saw it coming, but braced for an impact that almost shook me off the drops (but managed to save my more valued, uh, hardware). I immediately knew my back wheel was f***ed, but I had still has air pressure, so Scott A and I (Scott B?) stuck to our plan of a 1-2 finish. Sizing up our comrades as a bunch of lightweights, our plan seamlessly played out as the feared Greg & Phil took early lead-outs and we Scottsmen hammered it home as they faded but only to be overtaken on the inside by the same Steve who tried to save my a$$ - this after dropping his chain!
ANYWAY, once we regrouped at 7 Lox we inspected the damage which was immediately obvious as the rim of my rear Rolf Sestriere was taco'ed like nobody's business. A deep sigh, but I knew these wheels were on borrowed time - I bought them 4 years ago from Big Mig for $300, this after he, Pepper and probably half the shop rode these superlight delicacies (the Marilyn Chambers, RIP, of Bicycle Place wheels). Game over.
My esteemed comrades, who I hold in only the most favorable light, asked if I would be okay to get home, a scant 3 mile direct route. "No problem - she's still holdin' aar" (In my best Scotty of Star Trek accent - hey, I ride a Trek!). Yeah, well I go not a quarter mile before the front wheel gives up the ghost and I immediately recalled the beginning of the ride when I handed Phil P my spare to replace the one he gave up after I double flatted three (3) weeks ago. ARGH!
Melissa was in the shower and Nathan was asleep (and 15 years too young to drive), so I clacked the rest of the way home.
In short, watch out for this pothole.
How do I know this? Glad you asked.
I was in the N2 Poolesville Paceline winding up for that-stretch-of-road-where-we-go-fast-up-to-that-sign-covered-with-trees (non-sprint) when Steve (back to him later) warned of a "Hole!!!"
On his wheel, I never saw it coming, but braced for an impact that almost shook me off the drops (but managed to save my more valued, uh, hardware). I immediately knew my back wheel was f***ed, but I had still has air pressure, so Scott A and I (Scott B?) stuck to our plan of a 1-2 finish. Sizing up our comrades as a bunch of lightweights, our plan seamlessly played out as the feared Greg & Phil took early lead-outs and we Scottsmen hammered it home as they faded but only to be overtaken on the inside by the same Steve who tried to save my a$$ - this after dropping his chain!
ANYWAY, once we regrouped at 7 Lox we inspected the damage which was immediately obvious as the rim of my rear Rolf Sestriere was taco'ed like nobody's business. A deep sigh, but I knew these wheels were on borrowed time - I bought them 4 years ago from Big Mig for $300, this after he, Pepper and probably half the shop rode these superlight delicacies (the Marilyn Chambers, RIP, of Bicycle Place wheels). Game over.
My esteemed comrades, who I hold in only the most favorable light, asked if I would be okay to get home, a scant 3 mile direct route. "No problem - she's still holdin' aar" (In my best Scotty of Star Trek accent - hey, I ride a Trek!). Yeah, well I go not a quarter mile before the front wheel gives up the ghost and I immediately recalled the beginning of the ride when I handed Phil P my spare to replace the one he gave up after I double flatted three (3) weeks ago. ARGH!
Melissa was in the shower and Nathan was asleep (and 15 years too young to drive), so I clacked the rest of the way home.
In short, watch out for this pothole.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Cross Training
Life has been mostly off the bike lately for the Frogman thanks to the wonderful arrival of his new pollywog, the frigid weather and the stressful demands of keeping busy in a down economy (yes, I was bound to bring that up). Doesn't mean I'm totally off the bike or out of training, just that Cross Training has taken new forms in this new and strange realm of Daddyhood.
Who says I won't be ready to do street battle this spring after honing my strength and skills with Diaper Duathlon, Laundry Lunges, Reality Stairclimber, Baby Curls, Pull-up Pull-ups and the Eastern martial art of Tai-Transfer Sleeping Baby From Lap To Crib-Chi?
Who says I won't be ready to do street battle this spring after honing my strength and skills with Diaper Duathlon, Laundry Lunges, Reality Stairclimber, Baby Curls, Pull-up Pull-ups and the Eastern martial art of Tai-Transfer Sleeping Baby From Lap To Crib-Chi?
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