killthedarkness

black rainbow.

threat of rain tossed aside, we rolled out for some mtb gravel action. the 38s rollin good, even in the soggy soil. past kitten factory hq, on through belleville. through the old  train tunnel. a pit stop for a flat. you wanna go a bit farther, he says. sure. through  monticello. how about we go til we hit the next town? sounds good. pedalin clean. 180s tickin over. hit monroe and its backtrack. two hours later and flat two. fork over my goods and were off. a few minutes later and jesses on the phone for a ride home with flat three. outta tubes. outta air. seventy mile mtb rides dont happen every day. fought the bonk for fifteen miles and rolled in for cheese pizza and some pure sweet hell.

credit.

you dont hear a whole lot about the third of the lalonde brothers in the mtb scene. hes fast though. quickly making a name for himself as one of the fastest messengers in the midwest, even the nation along with my boy k-murder. i tagged these guys wheels at numerous alleycats last year and always finished in the top few. quick wit and legs to back it up. i had a lot of weekends off last year, not so much this year. we tag teamed stupor bowl last year with k takin the win, myself second, and james third. james put on mmi last year and i followed kevin to a top five and first ot. they went on to finish third and seventeenth at the naccs last year. james put down the hammer yesterday to take mmi6 to garner roundtrip tix to the 2007 naccs in san fran. word is that kevin is makin the trip too.

Black Sky.

more goodies showed up today. New Fisher 29er Team jerseys rolled in yesterday. These are some of the best looking jerseys ive seen in a long time. the oakley rep showed up today and dropped off a set of the new radars for me to try out. im not a huge fan of the traditional m frame style but these look damn good. a big improvement in my opinion. forty hours of  work in four days are leaving me playing catch up on the riding the past few days. the weather is definately helping out. two days at fifty plus and hopefully another tomorrow.

bakers dozen.

nine to three.

it was the old man and the road. five miles out and a front flat. better than a rear i suppose. it got worse before it got better. ten miles later and were battling twenty mph winds and a mild snow storm. like soldiers to battle we ventured on. ten more miles and were enjoying the better of two extremes. sun is out, warming our frozen limbs. the wind was relentless, magnified by the old man's need to play catch up on fitness. a dandy of a ride found us cresting hill after hill. it was either wind or hills. that was the name of the game. the feeling of the bonk coming on only forgotten for fear of soiling myself. a bag of jalapeno chips will do that to ya, even with an iron gut. the kwik trip deemed savior. i emptied out then filled up. two mini cheeseburgers, a snickers, and a red bull. the bonk layed to rest. onward and upward. rolled into town with the same plans for tomorrow.

mainline.

the word is out.

seventy three percent.

weve got this regular customer at the shop. ill call him rhino. this guy is off the wall. talks a million words a minute. twitchy. fidgetty. youve seen the kind before. this guy is a high profile real estate agent in town. he also happens to be a national class masters triathlete. hes run something like a 2:17 marathon in his prime. he always stops in, drops his bike and takes off running. calls back an hour later to tell us what he wants done on his bike. hes always giving us business cards and pens with his work info on it. i was quite fond of a pen i got from him. used it at work everyday. unfortunately i seem to have misplaced it. i searched half the day yesterday but its gone. fast forward to today. bretista, hockey temper and myself are out for an early morning ride. rolling up to the town of riley we see someone riding towards us. its rhino. he swings around for a chat. bret mentions that i was really disappointed i lost my pen. he whips a plastic bag out of his pocket and pulls out a new pen for me. apparently he was out of business cards otherwise he wouldve given me one of those as well. other sightings today: a 15ft tall hummer. a farmer and his wife trying to extinguish a huge garage/tractor fire with a garden hose (cops were just arriving, hockey temper wanted to help). a broken specialized helmet on the side of the road. and a shoe.

the mover.

how can you not find everything you need in all of this? potatoes, rice, and bread, we'll burn it as we take it in. sing your heart out, sing it like you mean it, you're gonna sing everything you're thinking, and you're gonna sing it until they're listening. cause if it really brings us all together, i'd say that settles all arguments of difference, surviving just by questioning, can you imagine if we all started demanding? i can play along to every record, front and back every song, and every word means as much to me as every word means to you. they can make an industry selling people the things they want to hear, if this is worth anything, we will sell it for humility, it will take us farther than the posture you're fronting

some kinda hate.

if it wasnt for hockey temper id be logging solo miles all the time. i guess i figured out that endurance racers like to ride all the time. for really long. its more an issue of temperature i guess. when the only reminder of your toes is a slight pulsing in your shoes, a panini at the shop sounds pretty good. a little bit of mud feels good these days, regardless of whether or not its all over my face.

hobo heaven.

another day solo. another day of snow. another day of wind. at least riding drifts keeps you alert. you never know what your gonna get. one you cruise through and the next throws you way left. i wonder how the boys at hobo heaven are making it in this kinda weather. seems theres better places to squat than under a freeway bridge. what do i know though. shitty graffiti, shitty paths, and shitty drivers. lots of it goin around town right now. the car i spotted today wasnt even close to staying on the road. parts of the path still go unplowed. brings back memories of trans iowa V.2. run and push. makes my glasses fog up. and i hate that.