Voo Doo and Mt. Doom

Did you ever see that movie with the Hobbits that had to climb the gnarly mountain and throw the evil ring in the cracks of doom? That was me on Saturday – I was the hobbit that had to carry the ring – you know, the one that it sucked the most for. The mountain was Mt. Harrison down by Albion, it is just like Mt Doom from the movie only a little bit steeper – especially at the top. There wasn’t a ring, or a crack of doom – but the part about it sucking, that part was definitely there.

The ride was only like 17 miles, and there was only one hill, so how hard could it be, right? Pomerelle Ski resort (which is on Mt. Doom) is probably the flattest, lamest ski resort in America so how hard could it be to ride a bike to the top, right?

It may have been ok if I hadn’t gone to the Voodoo doctor the day before. Definitely shouldn’t go to a Voodoo doctor for the first time ever the day before a race. The Voodoo guy made my body go all Rice Crispies, made me feel all loosey goosey, and told me to take it easy for a few days. Well I am a specialist at taking it easy during bike races – so I thought it would be no problem. Little did I know that you can’t take it easy on Mt. Doom.

I was good for the first mile. After that it was all downhill (figuratively) and all up hill (literally). After a nice chat with a friend in the pack I dropped off the back and settled in to take it easy. A few miles later random body parts were hurting. A few miles after that someone put a belt around my chest and cinched it up as tight as it would go – oh, nevermind that was just the heartrate monitor. Speaking of, – 180 – that’s not good. A few miles after that all my body parts hurt. A few miles after that I was halfway there (oh oh living on a prayer).

Someone told me that the last few miles were the worst, so I knew when I was feeling the suckiest ever that I must be getting close to the top. Just around the next corner, dough! The next corner for sure, dough! A couple miles worth of dough! And then I saw the two miles to go sign. WTF, there isn’t anywhere up to go – just that cliff. So two nasty switchbacks up the cliff. I think the grade was about 100% give or take a few %. It is hard to ride straight when your head is spinning. If only I could turn the pedals as fast as my head.

So like 8 hours later I made it to the top. Eff, nice view – but it wasn’t worth it. 3 days out and random body parts still hurt. Never, ever again, at least until next year.

In Dirty Underwear

I am not sure, but I think my 5 year old son is a smart-ass. I have no idea where he got it, I mean I’m not a smart ass am I?

He has been watching a lot of Veggie Tales lately. A cartoon about religious vegetables. I don’t particularly care for religion, and I don’t like vegetables either – but Veggie Tales seems ok. Good lessons, some corny humor (no pun intended). Not bad for tv anyway.

One of my sons favorites is about standing up for what you believe in – good right? Actually not so much.

The other day my wife calls…

Wife - “I can’t get your son to change his clothes”

Me – “Umm, OK”

Wife – “Any idea’s”

Me – “Nope”

So I role home later and find my son wearing the same clothes he was wearing the day before. He didn’t want to change them because they were his favorite color – red.

Me – “Hi little dude, why don’t you go change your clothes”

Son – “OK”

Goes away and comes back in his dirty underwear, carrying new clean clothes…

Me – “Change your underwear too”

Son – “No, I can not”

Me – “What?”

Son – “Sorry dad, I have to stand up for what I believe in”

My son wore dirty underwear the rest of the day.

He believes in it. Dirty Underwear.

Roadside Lost and Found: Episode 5, A Missunderstanding

OK, so I am on my way home yesterday. I get to my neighborhood and what do I find laying in the gutter? Three beers - unopened.

The only explaination is that you read my blog yesterday and misunderstood. See, you are supposed to drink the beers first - then huck the can out the window. Ahhhhhhh...

So anyway, I have your beers. Whats left of your beers. There was a little bit of leakage.

Roadside Lost ant Found Episode 4: Vodka

Roadsides are for stuff that you enjoy but are too embarrassed to come home with. Fast food wrappers, cigarette butts, pornography, beer cans/bottles, and apparently vodka. Most people like fast food every now and then, but God forbid you should admit it or be caught with it – solution – throw the evidence out the window. Lots of people smoke but don’t want to live with the embarrassment of dealing with the mess caused by their filthy little habit (is that opinionated?) – solution - throw it out the window. EVERYONE enjoys a little nakedness now and then – don’t admit it, throw it out the window! Some law breakers like a beer in the car – this is illegal, not to mention your spouse (or mom) won’t like it – solution – throw it out the freaking window!

There is an alcoholic in my neighborhood who drinks a little shot bottle of Smirnoff everyday in the car. I am speculating he/she doesn’t want their spouse/parent to know – solution – throw it out the window!

“Honey, your breath smells funny?”

“Oh, that’s just mouthwash – I wanted to be fresh for you when I got home…”

At least I think the person is an alcoholic. Does drinking a Smirnoff a day make you an alchy?

I’m more of a Mike’s Hard Lemonade guy – I know that is like drinking wine coolers and makes me weak. Admitting that you like girly alcohol is like admitting you like Bon Jovi, but hey, ‘Dead or Alive’ is a good song right???

…errr, I mean Metallica ROCKS!! – pass the Jack Daniels!!

Random Thoughts With Melmer

I miss the Tour de France. I miss the countless hours of cycling on tv. I miss guessing which Frenchy will go on a suicide break each day. I miss guessing which doper will get caught, and which doper will win and not get caught. I miss the Bacardi mojito commercial, I really miss the Bacardi mojito commercial. I don’t miss the repetitive SAAB commercial – like playing the damn thing every 5 minutes wasn’t enough, they have to repeat themselves 3 times within every commercial. Excruciating – born from jets indeed.

I flipped a guy off yesterday. I got a flat tire within 10 minutes. Five birds, five flats.

Also on my ride home yesterday the greenbelt ugliness achieved an all new level. Minding my own business, roll around a corner and there is a hippo in the middle of the greenbelt – oops, my bad – it’s a fat dude – in the middle of the trail – bent over messing with his shoe – a full 6 inches of hairy ass crack exposed. Aargh, that’s just wrong. I held my breath and squeezed around on the side. Oh the horror. Why me?

I wonder how beer tastes out of a water bottle. I think I need some.

After all the trauma yesterday, and a little stomach uneasiness over night I drove to work today. It was an interesting change. When I drove past Fred Meyer I noticed a single wide trailer in the parking lot with a sign on it that said ‘Pharmacy Open’. Nice. In Garden City too. Perfect.

Speaking of perfect, I also noticed the St. Lukes hospital downtown has the biggest smoking area in town. It’s disturbing how many doc’s and nurses there are out there. It’s like a lung cancer staging area.

Umm, OK?

So I saw this commercial the other day – well actually I saw this commercial several times the other day (thank you VS network for mind numbing repetitive marketing). The commercial is for something called the ‘Gold Kit’. You call a special number, someone sends you a big puffy envelope, you stuff all your gold into it, and then they send you money.

Umm, OK. Voluntary robbery by mail. I know, why don’t I send you my bank account information too so you can direct deposit my windfall. What? You need my credit card info to charge a small processing fee – OK. I have some silver too – do you take that? Diamonds? OK.

Unbelievable. You know even if it were legitimate, I’m thinking it might not be a good idea to stuff my heirlooms in a big ass envelope labeled GOLD KIT and then put it in the mailbox. Wonder if any of those get lost.

Got to give them some credit though – if I were going to advertise something that ludicrous on tv it would be on VS, the Ultimate Fighting/Bull Riding network. They got their target audience nailed.

Two Wrongs Don’t Make a Right and The Eight Turn Circle

I ride criterium races like I ride mountain bikes. Not very well.

Its not that crits scare me a whole lot - I think that my lack of aggressiveness and my ‘whatever’ attitude are incompatible with the criterium race format. I’m not into fighting with guys for position, I’m not into going around corners really fast, and when I ride my bike I usually prefer to turn both left AND right.

So given that, I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to race both the Masters B crit and the Cat 3 crit one right after the other at the state championships on Sunday. It was either commitment or stupidity – or a stupid commitment – or a commitment to stupidity.

You get the idea. Here’s the race recap…

Masters B. Riding along, ho hum, turning left, riding some more, turning left again, was that a right turn? – no just kind of a right veer, that guy wants in front of me – ok. Turning left, ride a little bit, turn left again (was that a brick crosswalk – not good), whoa what is that up there – a chicane? Yup, I think they call that a chicane – I think I call it a cluster fuck and a bad idea, ride straight some more, turn left (whoops, drug a pedal – whatever). Repeat for 45 minutes. Is this the last lap – good. These guys are nuts, they can have their medal – I will buy my own.

Cat 3. That last race was harder than I thought. Turn left, ride a little bit, turn left, veer right. These guys are faster than the other ones. Turn left, turn left, chicane go strait, left, left veer right, straight, left, left, chicane, who’s bike is making that sound, left, left, veer right,left,left,chicane,left.left – repeat for about 20 minutes until – well this sucks I am getting pulled – thank God.

All in all not a bad day of crit-ing. Didn’t fall off, that’s always good. They said the course had eight turns, but it was essentially a circle – I don’t know how that works. Maybe that is why I am lousy at crits. Whatever…