bikes guitars and hoosiers

Onward

2008-08-22T13:55:00.000-07:00

Hey if you surfed by check out some music. I wrote, or co-wrote most of the songs. Please sign the guestbook.

I'm a pretty happy guy right now. I miss riding with the Hub guys, but I've been getting rides in with other people. I'm going to miss the Gateway Cup this year for the first time in a while. Have fun if you're there.

Next Year on the Bike

2008-02-06T07:42:00.000-08:00

It all good. I'm lined up to do RAGBRAI. I'm out of shape right now, but as soon as the weather gets okay it'll be train, train, train. I've always peaked in August, this year I'll try for earlier. It's going to be humbling getting started. It is every year.

The Road Less Travelled

2007-07-24T04:16:00.000-07:00

After riding quite a bit over the weekend, I wasn't sure if I was going to do the St. Charles ride. Todd stopped by and said he was going to do it and the weather was perfect, so I decided to go.

I loaded up the ride and headed out. I got there a few minutes early. I saw guys that I rode with before but nobody seemed too chatty. At exactly 6:00 we rolled out. It was a pretty big group, maybe 50 or more. It was slow at first, as usual. After a mile or two it bumped up to 18-19. I came out on to the front expecting somebody to attack and nothing happened. Pushing it up to 22-23 before the turn a few guy took off but didn't get big gaps. I decided to hang out around to first five.

After the first right Todd took a flyer and Glenn and I chased him down. We spent a few minutes in rotation about 10 yards off the front. It seemed like we were going about 24-26 for a while. Finally we went back and took a break.

By the time we got to the tailwind part the usual guys started taking flyers and we chased them down. We were strung out at 29-30 some of the time. Shawn took off at one point and a few of us caught him after a long slog.

I was doing a lot of work. It wasn't a super fast ride, but I felt good about how I was doing.

We were heading north and I was leading the entire pack, taking a pull. At an intersection I heard somebody yell something. After a second I turned around to see the entire group turning.

Great! I said a few choice words. I didn't know how to get back to start so I had to turn around. Needless to say, the huge group was way ahead at that point and there was no way I was going to catch up.

After soloing in I headed back to car. I picked up a pizza on the way home watched the Tour Stage. Another experience for the record books.

Knucklehead

2007-07-02T05:21:00.000-07:00

I did my first Knucklehead ride yesterday. Actually, I did only part of it. I thought it started at the Schnucks in Ladue, when it actually started at the Scnucks in Clayton (which isn't there anymore).

I figured this out after talking to a cyclist near Ballas where I drove trying to catch the group. I decided at that point to change out my flat tire and jump in when the group got there. It almost worked. I wound up chasing them down just past Topping. The group was taking it easy. I knew a quite a few people in the group so we all chatted.

There are two rides, a short and a long. I wanted to do the long ride because I haven't been doing any hills this year.

We headed down Clayton across Clarkson. The "short" ride went right and I kept going straight up a long hill. I started getting passed right away and wondered if I would get dropped. I finally got my motor going and as we crested the hill I caught the front three riders. I had heard that they regroup after the hills and it turned out to be true. We head down 109 and jumped on the bike path and started riding the Marquette ride route. After the turn on Pond Road we made a quick right on Rieger. There was another tough climb.

It was climb and recover. The road was wet so I held back on the descents. I recently cleaned my chain and the degreaser got on my front derailleur and dryed it out. I had trouble downshifting. At one point I felt good and was riding on the front. We hit a steep hill and I couldn't get on to the small ring in the front. I stopped for a couple of seconds and got it working again. I worked with the lady in green for a while to pace back up to the group.

The hills started to take their toll. On the long Six Flags hill I got dropped. I knew they were stopping for water at the top, so after a long slog I finally got to meet some of the other riders. It was mostly guys my age or younger. There were several very strong women riders, a medical student, a Colorado U grad, a guy named Ted who I raced with in the past. All nice people, maybe 15-20 overall.

We did the Melrose climbs backward to Rockwood and climbed Wood. I got dropped again on the climb. We regrouped and started heading back. There was a headwind, but we kept up a good pace. I was starting to cramp up a little bit. When I got to the car I was pacing with two of the women riders a couple of hundred year off of the lead group.

They had about five miles to go. I was done. I loaded up the bike and listened to the new Paul McCartney CD.

I definitely need to do more climbing. This ride is a great way to spend a Sunday morning and get a good workout.

Webster Crit

2007-06-11T18:20:00.000-07:00

I'm excited to be announcing at the Webster Crit. I did the announcing at the ICCC Crit and it was a lot of fun. I'm collecting music and thinking about what to say all the time. I've raced in it twice, so that will be a nice perspective.

There is a lot more to be done to get ready.

St. Charles Ride

2007-06-06T04:04:00.000-07:00

Monday was my first trip out to the St. Charles ride this year. I was hoping for a large group and I'd say we had 40 or so riders.

It was very windy as we rolled out of the soccer park parking lot. I jumped in toward the front and we took it easy for the first couple of miles. The inevitable surges hit and soon we cranked it up. Todd cruised by on his time trial bike and he and Shawn O'Neil pushed up the pace while we had a horrible cross wind. There was very little draft to get.

The group strung out on the tailwind sections. I drifted back and popped off. I found some guys to work with and we finally got back on at a stop sign. A few surges later and it was over for me.

I really wanted to get a workout so I went as hard as I could solo. There was a good sized chase group behind me and I decided to see how long I could hold them off. It took a long time for them to catch me. After the catch there were lots of attacks out of the group, so I worked on chasing them down. Everyone was going hard, so it was fun.

Eventually we started passing lots of the riders who were off of the front group. Our grupetto was great to work with, everyone knew how to ride in an echelon so we kept up the speed. People were taking huge pulls at 27-30MPH. Toward the end a guy in a red jersey zoomed by and said something like "nice pull" and that he would give me the lead out for the finish. I tried to chase him down but he was too far ahead. When we got to the finish the group was gone. We must have gotten a little gap in the last mile or so.

I found Glen and Todd and they said we were just a few minute behind to first group.

The St. Charles ride is dead flat and lots of fun. Monday night at 6:00. From the Lou take 270 > 370 > right on Elm > right on Mueller. The start is about 1/4 mile down on the right in the soccer park parking lot.

Parrots

2007-06-04T04:13:00.000-07:00

I had to rush to get there on time. I couldn't find the right shirt to wear at first, I finally found my old pepper shirt. A couple of ladies at the bar liked it, so I guess that turned out okay. On the way there I missed the exit.

So I quickly rushed in, past three very sweet choppers. The bar was about half full, which was a lot more crowded than last time. We got a hooked into the PA and found out that Brian's monitor didn't work. Oh well.

Brian went in to "Mean Old World" to get it started. His vocal and slide sounded good. We didn't use a set list this time. Over the course of the show we hit all of our styles and it was pretty fun. Toward the end I sang my original "Emily" for the waitress and her daughter. The little girl kept grabbing my hand and asking me to sing it again.

At the end of the night, which was only 8:30 I played "Don't Let Me Be Lonely" dedicated to Pat Collier. She was the lead singer of the next band. The funny thing is I wouldn't have known who she was if she walked up and said hello.

One table of people was supposed to leave and have a party, but I wasn't in the mood. Brian was distracted so I slipped out right after we got paid.

I drove straight to Fortel and ordered a pizza. I can't believe I ate the whole thing. It was another one for the record books.

Hellbender

2007-06-03T17:08:00.000-07:00

I did about three weeks of training to get ready for the state championship. That should foreshadow what happened, but I'll give you the whole story anyway.

I was a little late getting to the tiny starting town. I had a slow leak on my front tire so I hurried over to registration and headed back to van to change the tire. I borrowed a tire tool from another Masters racer and we struck up a little conversation. I topped everything off and got over to the starting area.

I lined up with the 40 plus Masters. At the line it was pretty relaxed. I knew a few of the guys in the race. I was talking to a guy from southern Jefferson County. He has some good stories and it sounded like he trained a lot. I'm not really like most of the Master racers. Some of the guys are truly veteran of the sports. I'm more of a new guy. I like to race Masters, the rides are much smoother than cat 4. Today was going to be 70 miles, so my goal was to stay with the front group to the end.

We rolled out right into a hill. The pace wasn't too fast. I did labor just a bit, climbing is a weakness. The first 10 miles or so were kind of boring. We were only riding about 16 or 17 MPH. I drifted up to the front and pulled for a while. I did a few pushes up in to the low 20s. We hit a hill after the main turn off of highway T and I drifted back into the pack. I thought so far, so good.

A few miles later and we were flying down a very steep descent and doing high 40s. It was fun and I knew there was a big climb coming up. Instead of pushing up toward the front trying to drift back during the climb I stupidly decided to hit it at the back of the group.

At the hill and I immediately lost contact with the group. I had them in sight, but there was a huge gap opening up. My friend from the starting line was falling back, so I started working to bridge up to him. I took a long time of chasing at 25 or so. We caught another guy but we were completely dropped and it seemed uplikely to me the we would ever catch them. About a mile or two from the end of the first 35 mile lap the front of the cat 4 race caught up to us.

We got to the feed zone around that time. A lot was going on and I couldn't see the person who had my water bottles. I ended up getting handed someone else's water bottles. It was Dave Thackery's stuff. I looked up and he was coming back for it. I offered the bottles to Dave, but he was calling it a day.

During this mess I lost contact with my fellow riders. I started up the opening climb with bad legs. I started seeing lots of guys coming down the hill who had been dropped. I decided to keep going.

The stretch of road that was so easy the first time around was now hard labor. I sat in with some GORC racers that do the Dogfish ride for a long time. Finally, they called it a day and it was me and a young guy who eventually dropped me.

I rode the last 25 miles trying not to bonk. I was seriously thinking the big climb might do me in. I soft pedaled it and rode it in from there. I tried to go fast when the terrain would allow.

Afterword I found out I was only one of two finishers from the Hub. Not that finishing a race deserves any praise, but I felt okay about it.

The next stop was for a chocolate malt in Rolla and the drive back to Kirkwood. My wife and I went to a party that night and had a good time.

Getting back in shape

2007-05-09T10:46:00.000-07:00

After my miserable effort in Hillsboro I wanted to hide. I had a few excuses, but none that were any good. Finally after a self imposed exile I started to hit it again. I was getting dropped on the Hub ride, but finally hung on most of the way the last few times.

A little improvement, but still about 80%. I rode 225 miles in a week and didn't drop one pound. I wish I had a coach. On the bright side, the weather is good and it feels great to be out riding.

STL Biking Message Board

2007-02-28T16:49:00.000-08:00

Over the past few years I've surfed to the message board on cycling in St. Louis. I've met lots of nice people as a result. I don't think you can really know too much about a person based a what they type on a message board, but I enjoy it.

What is really weird is when you meet someone that you know from their fake, on line persona, and they are so different from what you'd imagined. My usual thought is that the real person is totally normal, better than their made up personality. Same goes with blogs for that matter.

Plato's cave.

Actual Riding

2007-02-13T04:39:00.000-08:00

February riding is my most out of shape time of year. I could really tell it when I did some climbing at Castlewood and the Chubb this weekend.

The trails were in great shape, very fast due to the cold. I need to bump my riding hours up to over 12 hours a week pretty soon.

Winter Blues

2007-02-08T04:11:00.000-08:00

Winter is the worst. Work is crazy busy. The band is dormant. The only workout if at the Y. A 30 minute ride on the trainer feels like 2 hours.

The past few years I did a lot of cold weather mountain biking, but even that doesn't sound like fun. Froze Toes is just a couple of weeks away. If it's this cold, forget it.

Everybody's in the same boat, so that helps keep me going.

Berryman

2007-01-03T04:32:00.000-08:00

It was clearing as I headed out I-44, leaving St. Louis for the Berryman trail. The trail is one of the best mountain bike rides around. I had tried to get a group together, but in the end it was just me.

Being the last the day of the year, the sun came up slowly and then headed into the sky at a shallow angle. It was slowly clearing so the blowing clouds and long shadows made for a beautiful sunrise.

I cruised past Six Flags, past Pacific. I was chugging Gatorade every few minutes. One rest stop and it was one to Bourbon. I cruised through town and headed out Highway N, then W and on to the Brazil Creek campground. I pulled in to nothing. There were no people, no cars, no trailers, just me.

After a quick change I was ready to ride. It was a little scary going solo. My friends Rich Pierce and Jim Tobias both crashed hard on the trail, Rich getting the worst of it. And now that there was nobody around to help me out I had to think twice. I thought, how bad can it be and rode on.

I cruised through the first creek crossing and headed up to the road to ride it clockwise. That way I could avoid riding it with wet feet from crossing Brazil Creek first thing. The turn off on to the trail was really steep and I stalled out on it. I got going again and started climbing and picking lines. The trail was covered with wet leaves, but was rocky and rooty and switchbacky like I remembered. On the descents I took it easy. On the switchbacks I clipped out a lot and made sure I got around okay. After a while I just started taking them high and I didn't need to clip out. It was all up and down for a long time. On one flat section I jumped a branch and a section went through my spokes.

I looked down and the back tire was just sliding on the wet leaves. I stopped and pulled it out and kept going until I heard a clicking noise. I got off and checked it out and it was a broken spoke. I thought about Sam Moore saying how strong mountain bike wheels are, and rigged the spoke out of the way and it seemed to be fine.

Up and down, lost once, up and down. I kept expecting to see the Berryman camp around the next bend. Finally, I got there and it was empty as can be. I finished off a water bottle and headed down for the last 14.5 miles.

There was lots of rough stuff down into the creek bed and I was starting to get a little tired. Short steep climb, wild switchback downhills, everthing you would want on the mountain bike ride. The next way point was the spring. When I finally got there I ate my last Powerbar and chugged some more water. I looked at a scruffy hill that I though was the trail and headed up. It was a long climb and I was very proud to ride it without stopping. When I reached the top of the hill I realised something was wrong. I went back down and found the trail a few feet over from where I went up. Great!

It was on to the mud flats. I got there and they were indeed muddy just as Paul Mueller had said. I slopped through some parts and rode up around where I could. After the mud it was a long, long slog back to the minivan. I stopped for a minute where the Ozark Trail branched off and luckily picked the right trail to follow. By now I was losing steam and the climbs were really slow. My back was tightening up and I had trouble riding very long without standing and stretching. Downhill was killing my arms. No bonking, just cooked well done.

This is what the Berryman is all about.

I finally saw the camp and tip toed across a rocky dam without soaking my feet. I looked down at my cell phone and it was 2:00. I started around 9:00, so I rode really slow. I guess my riding time not counting getting lost and taking break was probably 4+ hours. Oh well, I in the worst shape of the whole year and I rode Berryman! I can't wait to try Council Bluffs.

RAGBRAI

2006-12-27T07:35:00.000-08:00

Check out this video. It give a good snapshot of what RAGBRAI is like. Iowa is great and the people who do RAGBRAI are super friendly.

Yes, that was Lance in the video. The last guy is the iconic Mr. Pork Chop.

Hillsboro

2006-12-20T07:56:00.001-08:00

Last spring I raced the Hillsboro Roubaix in Hillboro, Illinois. This picture shows us pulling out to start the race. We all waited for a while before it started so when this picture was taken everyone was cold. I raced in the cat 4 group. The pace was okay at first, especially when we headed into the wind. Later, it was really hard to pass and get set up for the hills, so when they came I got yo-yo'd off the back.

I found a few guys to work with, so we kept it up. About 5 miles into the second lap I flatted and remembered that I didn't have any CO2 cartridge to inflate my tube. Mike S gave a cartridge, but it didn't fit my adapter and I only got about 30 pounds of pressure into the tire. I just rode on the mushy tire anyway. I could go fast on the staight parts, but the turns messed me up bad. The tire would have rolled off the rim. I kept passing one of women racers, then she would go by me when I slowed down to turn. I kept asking the course marshalls if they had a pump. It would have been surprising if they had one, so no luck there. Finally Bill M from ICCC caught up to me in a support truck and we got my tire pumped up. I rode on and finished just passing the woman racer I had been doing the cat and mouse with earlier.

Hillsboro is always a hard race. I can't wait for next year.

A Night in the Studio

2006-12-19T03:15:00.000-08:00

Our band decided we needed a decent demo tape. Instead of recording it ourselves we decided to pay a studio to record us. We wound up using Smith Lee Productions in Maplewood. We came up with a song list and made a simple versions of the songs for practicing. The big night came on a Monday.

It was pretty cool getting all set up and doing the headphones thing. Our recording engineer was pretty young, but seemed to know what he was doing. Once we got going we managed to record everything live in the studio without any overdubs. We normally have backup vocals, but we ran out of tracks. Here is a medley of what we recorded. It is a pretty big MP3 files so it might take a while to start playing. You could also try the right-click, save as... to get it done faster. We did three songs that I wrote -- Daddys Cookin, Persistent Memories, and So Long, See You Later.

The recording was quick and dirty, but I like it. If we could take our time we could really make a good blues record.

Dirt Church

2006-10-30T04:53:00.000-08:00

Sundays are mountain bike days now. We meet up at the Hub at 7:30, then head to the trail. We've got 3 rides in so far. Yesterday was the Chubb.

We started on the West Tyson end and it got real technical real fast. I'm still getting it together and I had to stop quite a few times. We regrouped after the killer climb/walk. It was a perfect day with beautiful fall colors, a clear sky, and temperatures in the 50s.

We rode on up to the picnic table and I ditched my coat. We made it on down to the steps, walked that part and rode the rest of the way down the hill. We got off into the flatter part and it was perfect except for a few muddy spots. We made it through the rock garden and decided to ride the Castlewood loop.

It was pretty wet and hard to pick a good line. We stopped on the river bank for a post card quality view. Ryan hammered out of there and I chased him all the way back to the railroad tracks. At the end, a dog chased me. I got a laugh out of that. We headed back to West Tyson.

There was a little group dread as we approached the climb. I stalled on the rock wall at the start, but held it together all the way to the steps and then to the loose switchback on the picnic table hill. We went out on Flint Quarry. Ryan blasted off on the decent and I finished a few seconds back.

We regrouped and climbed up to the jeep and headed home. I dropped off Andy, headed home. A few hours later I was at the Cardinals parade for the World Series.

Blue Ribbon

2006-10-12T04:17:00.000-07:00

When you get to the tunnel, you don't need to slow down. Just go straight in with your head down. It's dark in there, but just keep looking towards the end. When you pop out on the other side go to the left.

The first section is narrow and uphill. It winds around a bit. When you get to the ditch ride through it, make a left and start heading down the steep hill with a sharp right at the bottom.

Get into an easier gear as you head back up and get ready for the log. Hit it straight on and go over it, no need to stop. You'll come out in a field and head back to the left up a steep dirt section. Stay to the right and spin up. Climb a few more feet and bomb back down and climb up to the wooden bridge.

After the wooden bridge you climb some more. Save some energy for the steep rooty section and hit it going as fast as possible. You're back on to gravelly single track now. After a few rollers you climb a steep gravelly section up to a sharp right. It's steep here so try now to spin out.

From here you keep climbing at a reasonable grade. After the left turn be ready for a rooty section that is steep. Hit it with a little bit of speed and you will make it. Grind on up the hill. Stop at the bench and have some water if you want.

Now it's downhill time. No brakes for the first section until you hit the sharp right turn. Get your butt back and head down the loose stuff and look for a good line. Hit the brakes at the bottom and make the left staying over to the right. There's quick section and then you go back to the right and do the same type of hill again. Watch out for the tree. Stay to the right along the washed out dirt part.

Now you're on a very fast section. When it heads to the left you are headed for a steep drop off. Go over hit the brakes, get into an easy gear , make the left and climb back out. You can make it over the roots if you have some speed.

Keep climbing and looking for good lines. Pop up a couple of steep parts and give it all you've got to make the last super steep left. Now you are on the old road and you have to climb out.

At the top start flying down again. It help to bunny hop some of the rough stuff. At the end it gets sort of technical, with the last bit being kind of dangerous due to a big drop off that you have to hit with some speed. To avoid make a sharp right and come off the hill.

Head back into the tunnel. At the end just go straight out.

Son, you just did Blue Ribbon in Castlewood State Park while sitting at your computer.

Getting Back on the Mountain Bike

2006-10-11T04:49:00.000-07:00

I had the mountain bike upside down in the garage all summer. There was nothing bad wrong, just a bad tire. I finally got it fixed and headed off to Castlewood.

My brain went into overdrive trying to get it back together. The shaking, tree whizzing by, floating through the loose stuff, getting into the right climbing gear. My legs felt good and I took it easy. After a few trips I felt a little like my old self again. I'm looking forward to the fall and winter on the mountain bike.

Soulard Crit

2006-07-17T14:22:00.000-07:00

The Soulard Crit is a very cool event. I had never done it before as a racer, so I decided to give it a go in the Masters division. I didn't feel 100% at the starting line and got gapped right away. We had a small chase group going for pretty much the rest of the race. It seems like we were coming up on crashes all the time and I almost ran over a spectator, but I managed to stay upright. Thankfully, there was small enough of a field that the official left lapped riders in the race, so I got to finish. It was a very hard effort being out in the wind over 50% of the time. When it ended I hung around for the 4/5 race. A lot of my Hub teamates got pulled. I would have probably been one of them, so I'm glad I did the Masters race and got a longer workout.

We cheered Ryan Heine on to a front pack finish in the 3s race. He was totally gassed when the race was over.

Then something strange happened. The St. Louis Cycling Club guys said they needed an announcer. Being the ham that I am, I volunteed and announced the women's race. It was a lot of fun. I wasn't very good at it, but I did my best. I think with practice I could do a lot better. It started to look like I would announce the pro race and my replacement finally showed up. The pace car driver gave me $20 for my trouble, so I got to race for free. Is this a great country or what!

Burn Out

2006-07-11T11:32:00.000-07:00

It all started on the fourth of July. The 60 mile "fun ride" turned into an epic hammerfest a lot of the time. Lots of breaks, but still lots of hard riding. Mark nipped me in the city limit sprint going into Waterloo. I felt pretty strong all day. Well until I got home and I was so tired I took a two hour nap.

Wednesday night the Hub ride rolled out and I felt pretty good. I worked my way up from a long way back in the Litzsinger sprint and charged up to Manchester on the front. I hung out for a short while with my homies.

Thursday's Dogfish ride wasn't that fast, but I used up lots of energy. I was first up to Dougherty Ferry, but I got smoked on the Kirkwood Park hill. I reeled in lots of guys at the end okay.

Friday AM Marshall loop was not good. All hills and all the pop out of my legs. I wimped out on the apartments hill and soloed home. Saturday I skipped the Hub and did a 31 mile slowish ride on the FoPo loop.

Time to recover for a few days and do it all over again! Ragbrai is right around the corner.

Dogfish Ride

2006-07-03T10:55:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday's Dogfish ride was fast. I caught up to it coming down Lockwood just past Mary Queen of Peace. There were lots of Dogfish jerseys in the crowd, which was good to see. Mr. Merli himself was cranking up the hill pretty good. We chatted about the crit and it sounded like he had a good time.

I hung on the back all the way down Geyer and started going around people when we hit the hill. I didn't catch the front group and wound up pulling a bunch almost back to the lead pack by the time we hit Clayton. It was pretty reasonable heading out to Ballas. After Ballas I got back on the front and stayed there for a while. A curly headed Dogfish guy took a nice long flyer and I chased for quite a while.

I did lots of time on the front in the first part of the ride and that usually means the second half will be rough. It was. We couldn't close down the gap on Conway and chased like crazy all the way up the hill to Mason. I took another flyer and pulled up to the Principia hill.

We came back through Kirkwood park. I was the sacrificial lamb and I blew up coming up the hill. I kept grinding and caught the front guys at the very top after they quit pedaling hard. I looked down and we had averaged 20.8 for the ride.

I broke off and road home. I made some nice barbecue and hit the hay early. I love the summer.

Eating Downtown

2006-06-28T11:01:00.000-07:00

There a lots of places to eat lunch in downtown St. Louis. Here are some thought on a few of them.

The best place, by far, is B.B.s Jazz Blues and Soups. I've never had a bad meal there. It's about $11 for lunch, so it's a bit pricey. The atmosphere is excellent, there is alway good music on the sound system and it sounds great. It's not crowded. I think it's just a little bit to far some fat people to walk. The specials are always good. The soups are out of this world. Try it, you'll like it.

And in no particular order...

Wehbe's Cafe: Always good for wraps. The tabouli can be a bit watery. Lot's of hotties eat there, which is nice.

St. Louis Bread: Okay. Sometimes it's too crowded. Good cookies.

Famous, 6th floor: Fried chicken Thursday is good. Nice big salad bar. Why bowls and no plates? I don't get it.

Dooleys: Great burgers, heart attack on a plate. Can be smokey, that can ruin any meal.

ZuZu: I love Mexican. It was horrible when it first opened. Now it's good. The green salsa is the bomb. They charge extra for iced tea. What?

Red Door Chinese: no-smoking back room when I get there. no wata seven fify when I leave. In between, completely stuff myself. I alway go down the south side of the buffet.

Kitchen K: Pricey and loud. Don't, I repeat, don't order the jamaican reuben.

Not worth mentioning: Lion's Choice, Wendy's, TGI Friday's, Swifty's, New York Deli, Quiznos, there I just mentioned them.

Sharkys

2006-06-27T12:04:00.000-07:00

Images from a band job:

A beautiful sunset looking from Missouri into Illinois, while Mississippi flows by from south to north.

A girl doing a pole dance in a satin top while ten other women talked about her.

A pushy 70 year old lady singing The Rose while the crownd waits painfully.

Six boaters sitting smoking six cigarettes.

Song after song with no dancers, a small crowd.

A long ride out through the corn fields, stuck behind a MoDot truck

Webster Crit

2006-06-26T11:19:00.000-07:00

I felt pretty good when I lined up for the 4/5 race. I wasn't completely warmed up, so I knew the first few laps were going to hurt.

I started out pretty much toward the back. I keep screwing up by not moving up toward the front at the start. The first turn was a traffic jam and I had to get up and sprint afterward. The pace felt pretty fast, but I wasn't having any trouble hanging on. About five laps in I was getting pretty warmed up and I started passing and drifting up to the front of the race. My hope was to meet up with my Hub teammates and settle in until the last few laps.

Just past the finish line it happened. Guys were flying all over the place. Crashing everywhere. I grabbed the brakes and got lucky. I came to a complete stop and missed everybody. The problem was I lost complete contact with the front group and I was going to have to chase to get back on. It was pretty hopeless, but I gave it a good effort for a couple of laps. I was flying solo and using up a ton of energy. I saw guy on my wheel and tried to wave him through, but he wouldn't do it. Finally, Adam showed up and I got a little break. We couldn't see the main field, but we finally had a little chase group going.

Next time around Buddy pulled us. I figured we must have been about to get lapped. I cut through a parking lot and headed back to the spectator area. Nobody know about the crash. Later the group went by and some of the crashers were still out there.

I saw Adam back at the wheel pit and he was ticked off about getting pulled. It turns out we were only about 20 seconds behind. A lap was taking about 2:20, so we were in no danger of getting lapped, even by the end of the race. $30 down the drain. Later, Paul told me he was way behind us, and he didn't get pulled until the last lap.

Oh well. It was great to see Ryan there. He was heading off to Columbia. It was a busy weekend. Two band jobs and a bike race.

Marinas

2006-06-23T13:29:00.000-07:00

This weekend Daddy's Cookin' is playing the St. Charles marinas. We've got Capt. Jacks tonight. The setting is perfect. We play on a deck overlooking the Mississippi. Last time was a blast and they really wanted us back. I've been working a Santana tune and it's going to probably be our first song. We actually worked up Free Bird for late. It's a maybe right now.

We've finally been actually practicing. We have some rocked up versions of oldies that should sound good. Lately we been taking a Rolling Stones style guitar and doing our own versions of stuff.

Tomorrow is Sharky's. It's going to be a long, fun weekend. The Dogfish race is Sunday. If I'm not too exhausted, I'll be there.

Hub Ride

2006-06-22T11:33:00.000-07:00

Last night's Hub ride started on the wrong foot for me. I went out into my garage, where is had to be about 110 degrees, to get my bike. The tires felt a little soft. I was pumping up the back tire and the stem broke off. I changed out the tube and headed down toward the ride.

Just my luck, I see the group on the other side of a grass median and I missed them. I had to sprint like heck to get back on. Looking around, there were a lot of the regulars. I reset my trip computer as we crossed Manchester.

I got gapped on the Geyer hill and had to go for it all the way to Clayton. We let up for a while and regrouped at Ballas. Just past Principia we caught up with a triathlon chick. She was hanging on for a half mile or so and then she disappeared. There were a few attacks on Mason Woods and we got back together on Mason. There was a girl waiting sideways in the lane as we rode around her.

On the hill heading to Mason I wound up in front. I stayed on the front all the way up the hill on Conway and most of the way down Babler. When we hit Ladue, Dan Bruns bolted off the front and we all chased him up to the red light.

On the grind up Conway I got caught behind a couple of guys and had the chase out in the wind for a bit. I grabbed Ryan's wheel for a good bit of it. We rocked pretty good from there until Litzsinger. The sprint was a blast. Ron went out first, I slowly pulled through and then the rush came through the turns. I wound up fourth at the turn on to McNight. I pushed up the hill to Manchester and was first to the light. Ryan took off like usual and I followed him the rest of the way. Dan Bruns came out of nowhere and passed me at the railroad tracks. It seemed like we were about a minute or so in front of everybody. It was so hot my head felt like it was going to explode. Our average speed, including a the stopping and a slow roll on Litzsinger was 20.8 mph.

I hung around the bike shop for a short meeting with a few beers and noodle on home. Cheryl and Brett were watching America's Top Model. After a hamburger, fries, and some undercooked brownies I was done. Sleepy time. Good night.

Chasing George

2006-06-20T08:06:00.000-07:00

Yesterday George asked if I wanted to do the Marshall loop. It sounded like there would be a few guys going. I wasn't sure if I would do it, so I told him not to wait for me.

This morning I woke up at 4:30. I went to bed early last night because I felt bad. I decided to go on the ride and I felt pretty good when I got started. It turned out that George was the only one to show up. We headed down past Kirkwood park. I cruised ahead and hit Lindeman a few seconds ahead. I got up out of the saddle all the way up the hill. I kept waiting for George, but I made it up ahead of him.

We headed down Dougherty Ferry to Barrett Station. I decided to try and pace George up the long hill by the Museum of Transport. It was pretty tough, but I made it to the top with him. After decending and heading toward Valley Park I started having trouble clipping in. We finally stopped and I found that a screw had fallen out of my cleat. We kept on going and it didn't bother me too much.

I drafted off of George all the way to the climb. It was reasonably easy up the bridge. About halfway from there it started to hurt. Usually George drops me on the that section but today I hung on. I looked down and we were going 11.5 to 12.5 most of the way. George thought it was one of his fastest ever times up the hill. I guess that means I broke the 3 minute barrier that has been dogging me the past few years.

We headed back to the park and chatted at the house for a few minutes and then it was off to work.

State Championship

2006-06-12T14:18:00.000-07:00

This was my third try at racing in the Masters division. The race was in Columbia, Missouri on a course that I had raced last year as a cat 4. I'm done racing as a cat 4, too many crashes and not of them my fault.

The field had about 35 riders or so. It was my first ride in a Hub jersey. There was one other Hub rider there, a nice guy I alway ride with on Wednesday night. We joked about our chances and the race started.

The first thing I remember was Shawn O'Neal breaking off of the front. Nobody chased him down and after a while we were all back together. Kent and Todd were patroling around in front of me. I was happy to sit in about 10th. Once in a while I would drop further back. About 4 miles from the end there were two sharp climbs. On the first lap I looked down and my heart rate had jumped to 194. I wondered how many times I would be able to hang on that section of the course.

Surprisingly enough, I was able to hang on through the third of four laps. After the finish line section I had to sprint really hard to get back on the group. The pace finally let up a little bit and it was looking good for finishing with the leaders.

Finally we came to the final steep hill section and everone went all out climbing. They got a gap on me and Todd and headed up to the next climb. Todd got out of the saddle and chase back on and I did my best to not let them get any further ahead. At that point I knew there was just about 5 minutes left in the race. I though back to my interval sessions with Paul Mueller and go down on the drops and went for it. It seemed like I was catching up to the group slightly, but it wasn't going to happen. On the finish line climb I could see the pack up ahead and I though I could pass a few stragglers. I almost caught one of the guys.

I cruised up the road and Todd was laying in the grass. He said he gave it his all, but he was around 10th. I went back and the official said I was the 22nd rider to cross after our winner, but there was racers from another field in the group so there was no way to know for sure how I finished. We averaged about 24mph on a rolling hills course. It felt pretty fast to me.

I felt real good about my effort. I don't train all that much, I really just ride for fun so hanging with the big dogs is an accoplishment.

Tuesday Night Crit

2006-06-07T07:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I got lots of riding in. I rode into work pretty fast. I averaged 19mph+ until I got downtown. It was kind of hot, but I like it that way.

After work I rode down to Carondolet Park. I tried to ride through the city neighborhoods. I took it real easy. At one point a chubby little kid rode up and said I had a nice bike. I wished him a good ride.

The A race was just getting started when I got there. There were lots of guys taking flyers off the front. It looked like Johnny Merli and Mark Nagy were taking lots of turns.

The B race was pretty big. I'm guessing 50 riders or so. The crowded field made it hard to move up. It seemed like I was in 25th position most of the race. The pack was really tight most of the time, but everone was concentrating so there weren't any crashes. I found that the best draft was to stay inside onlong the top stretch. As usual, I didn't feel that motivated to get out to the front so for lots of laps I just sat in.

With about 3 to go I jumped up toward the front and basically stayed there the rest of the race. I tried to make an inside move at one point but I got blocked. On the final lap I sprinted pretty hard but still had to brake due to traffic. I went for it at the end and almost caught Chuck Pass. I don't know where I finished, but it wasn't in the top ten. On the cool down lap I check the average speed and it was only 25mph. Pretty slow for a B race.

After the race Lauren gave me a ride home. I appreciated the lift, not wanted to ride the 8 miles back to Kirkwood. Tonight is the Hub ride, tomorrow Dogfish, then I have to decide if I'm going to enter the State Champ race in Columbia on Saturday.

Missouri Mountains

2006-05-31T12:39:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day weekend was all about playing guitars and hanging out by the Black River. The Annual had all the usual folks. Jim Murphy and Brian and I hung out together. Since I'm always up a bit earlier than most, I decided Sunday would be my bike ride day.

I loaded up the bike on the back of the Jeep and drove out to Lenny's quicky mart. After ten minutes or so I was heading north on highway 21 toward the top of Taum Sauk Mountain.

The riding was pretty easy at first and I didn't push the pace. I rode by lots of turtles sunning themselves on the road. Their wasn't much traffic and everyone gave me room. The first mountain was Sheppard. The climb was sort of long. I bombed down off that and made a left to head on to Taum Sauk. It was a pretty gradual climb. The last bit was pretty steep. I stopped to turn around at the Tip Top roadside park. There was a shrine to some Japanese poet I'd never heard of, which seemed odd.

It was fun coasting back down off of the mountain. I knew there were two more hills, then I was home. Going back up Sheppard was the hardest part for sure. Then, down a bit over a bridge to a pretty steep climb where I was home free.

When I finally got back to the Jeep it was still only about 10:30. I noticed there was a car parked behind my Jeep. It wasn't really blocking me in. As I loaded my bike up a mouse ran along the parking lot toward the store. Then some older guy walked up to me and commented that I had locked the doors and rolled up the window on the Jeep. I though we was joking. I mean, you can't lock up a Wrangler anyway.

I turns out it was Lenny and he was ticked off because I parked in his parking lot. He said park somewhere else next time. I didn't say anything, I just pulled out and left. Weird guy. He sell beer and cigarettes to floaters and he's worried about a Jeep in his parking lot.

It was a good ride. I headed back to the river and we jammed all day long.

Hub Ride

2006-05-25T09:03:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I commuted to work and back. The way home was nasty as there was huge headwind. I was also out of tubes, so if I flatted I was sunk. I got to the Hub shop around 10 till 6, picked up a tube and headed home to get my other bike. I headed over to Geyer and Essex and the guys came by after a couple minutes.

Right away I knew it was going to be fast. We were doing 20+ heading up to Manchester and wound up sprinting through the light. I worked hard to get back to the lead group, pulling over 30 most of the time. At the bottom of the hill cruised to the front and hit the hill first. I was putting out way too much effort for that early in the ride, so I wasn't surprised when everyone went by me. At the top I couldn't close the gap and had to push all the way to Clayton where I got back on.

The pace seemed really high going in to the wind on Clayton. This wasn't going to let up today. I cruised along near the front for awhile. At the bottom of the hill on Mason I led a pretty decent climb into the wind all the way to Babler. The hoped for let up didn't happen.

At Ladue I got stuck waiting for a car and had to go all out to get back to the front. By then, I was in going in and out of the red zone so much I had to back off. By the time we got to Conway I got gapped and it was all over. I saw the group cross Ballas and wound up hitting a red light.

Ron, Chris and another guy and I gave it a good effort after that. We knew we were dropped, but motored on. I thought I had dropped everybody on Rock Hill. Coming up to the light, whoosh there goes Ron. Same deal on Gore, then whoosh there goes "other guy". I hammered back up to him and actually finished just ahead, but he had me.

Yesterday was a good day, over 50 miles of riding more of it going pretty hard.

For real mountain biking in Mazatlan

2006-01-27T04:31:00.000-08:00

While I was at Senor Kellys bike shop I ran into an American guy. I forget his name so I'll call him Joe. Joe was an expert mountain biker from Austin who had move down to Mexico to live cheap. He said he had some bad injuries and had to quit racing at the elite level. Now he was hanging out in Mexico and helping out with the bike shop. While I was in renting the bike he said he would show me the mountain biking trails outside of town for free. He wanted a workout and I could go with him.

I met him the next day about a half a mile from the hotel. He was good to go. The first thing we did was jump a barbed wire fence. I trusted him, so off we went.

It was dusty and desert landscape. At the beginning we had to dodge a big iguana who was in the dirt road. After jumping another fence we hit the trail that he and Senor Kelly had helped build. It was winding singletrack. After bit of climbing Joe was stopped up ahead. There were two horses was down the trail the other way. They didn't have saddles on so I didn't know what to think. Joe said something to them in Spanish. After a couple seconds they ran off.

Joe had names for all the technical sections of the trail. I was out of practice and couldn't ride a lot of them. One was called Diablo something or other and was impossibly steep. Joe said he had seen a few guys ride it. I was impressed.

The singletrack went on for a while. I wasn't clipped in to my pedals, so it felt weird to ride that way. I hung on for a while. I got off and walked more than normal. There was no way I wanted to get hurt in Mexico.

We finished on trail and rode to the next. I remember going by an agave field.

After several hours I was getting tired. We headed back to the shop and Joe was dropping he on all the hills. After we go back to the shop we said adios and I rode back to the hotel.

I'll never forget how nice Joe was to show me around. It was a very cool day of riding, one to remember.

Mazatlan

2005-10-05T03:32:00.000-07:00

A few months back I went to Mazatlan. It's a city in Mexico on the state of Sinaloa on the Pacific coast. It's across for the tip of the Baja penninsula. We went there for a vacation about a month after spring break ended, so it wouldn't be too crowded. It wasn't.

I rented a mountain bike while I was there at Mr. Kelly's bike shop. Right after I rented it I decided to ride around the city and sight see.

My friend Mark said that Mazatlan was the real Mexico, not like Cancun or other areas that were set up for tourists. If you are the typical tourist, you can see the real Mexico on your bus ride from the airport usually, and that's about it.

The ride was going to take me to a big cathedral. You could see it across the bay, but rather than ride with the busses and pumonias (dune buggy taxis), it sounded like more fun to ride through the neighborhoods to get there.

Up into the city the houses where all made of concrete and were brightly painted deep blue, golden yellow, and where small. Riding by a school I saw children playing in white shirts. The girls had plaid skirts and the boys dark pants, just like Catholic schools here in St. Louis.

There was trash everywhere, mostly plastic drink containers and food wrappers. The sounds were mostly the roar of busses and cars mixed with the radio playing music. The music sounded like a mix of country, mariachi band horns, and a lot of ballads. It seemed pretty repetitive, just like all pop music.

The plan was to zig zag on the back streets. Up one, over two, up one over three and make my way to the church. After about a half hour I was completely lost. I actually had a compass, but it was not helping much.

Somehow I crossed a railroad track and got on to some dirt roads. The houses were a little more run down. It was late morning, so I wasn't too worried about getting hassled. If I did, I don't know any Spanish, so it would have been like talking to a dog.

Now it was getting pretty interesting. Lost in Mexico on a mountain bike. Two old men were working a a junky truck. A couple of chickens running down the street, then a skinny cow with huge horns. Some guy driving a snack truck, sort of like an ice cream truck down the street with a huge speaker on the roof talking and talking.

I jumped the tracks again and got off into no streets. The next thing I remember was going for a main road, any main road because that would lead somewhere. I finally hit one and had the choice of going left or right. I thought left headed back into the city. About a mile down some confused looking ladies (not as confused as me) pointed me back the other way.

It was the middle of the day and I'm riding down one of the busiest streets in town through stop and go traffic. It was scary and fun. I figured everybody is just trying to get where they are going. In a few miles I saw a bus station we visited earlier. Jeez, where am I?

Somehow I get the the Mercado and see the church. I blasted up hill to get to it. Nothing to see really. Grafitti painted with trash all around, oh well.

Lost again. I'm tring to find the main road along the beach. Next to park I see some gringo looking couple and ask directions. The guys gives me weird look and asks if I've been drinking. The lady acts like she feels sorry for me. Finally they tell me I'm only a few blocks from the beach front.

At that point, I'm dying of thirst. No water to start with, and I've been riding for a few hours. An old man with a soda stand is there, so buy an orange. It's in a glass bottle, so I figure he needs it back and I swig the whole thing in a few seconds. He gets a big laugh out of seeing me do this for some reason. I say gracias and ride on.

Finally I hit the beach road. It's the busiest street in town, but it goes back to the hotel, to I'm riding it no matter what. Jacking the mountain bike hard I'm almost pacing the cars and busses. Buzzing along the trash lined streets on a mission, up over bridge I'm almost back.

A couple hours later we are at the pool drinking margaritas being tourists again. A magnificent sunset overtakes us and the day ends with a blissful feeling. The bike is stored in the front of the hotel for the "for real" mountain biking trip the next day.

Stix Tribute

2005-10-03T03:46:00.000-07:00

Daddys Cookin had been laying kind a low. We picked up a gig once every couple of months and that's about it. Danny called and said he and Rob were going to go to a tribute to one of their old drummers, Stix Maxwell. Stix had died in his late 50s and all of his friends were going to have a party to celebrate his life. Danny and Rob had Stix in their old band called the Scam band back in the 80s and hadn't been in touch.

I drove over to Belleville not knowing what to expect. I found the place, a nice irish bar and went around back to park. It was in the old part of Belleville and looked to be a nice area. I started to walk in the door and didn't make it inside. There was a lady laying on the floor with a group of people hovering over her. It must have just happened because they were trying to decide whether or not to call an ambulance. It didn't seem righ to step over her to get in, so I kind of hung out around the door and offered to help. It turns out she had epilepsy and had had a seizure. Finally an ambulance did come. She was expected to recover, so the party just went on. The sad thing, was that she was the wife of the guy who organized the whole thing, so now he had to miss it.

The place was packed. After a few minutes we recruited a drummer and took the stage. We had a good set, but somehow during one of the songs I stretched a string on my guitar and it jumped out of the bridge into the next slot, leaving me with a dead string. I was tring to play lead and it was freaking me out for a while 'cause I coundn't figure out what was wrong.

I didn't know anybody there. We got a nice reception from the crowd. Quite a few people came up during the break to say they enjoyed it.

The next band, I think they were called the Yellow Dog Band, came up and did a nice job on some sixties rock. They got better the longer they played. Toward the end of their set they got into some music by the Band and just brought the house down. I was singing along with every one and you could see it was a genuine highlight for everybody.

A little girl sang Amazing Grace. She was so brave. Then, our drummer (who normally is a front man) grabbed the mike and said Saints in F. I wasn't sure what he meant. Finally I figured out he meant, "When the Saints Go Marching In". It was the perfect follow up to Amazing Grace. The whole bar joined in the fun and a big group of them started marching in a line, just like down in New Orleans.

Just like that it was over. I carried the guitar out to the Jeep. It was hot. A while later I was home barbecuing in the back yard. I never did learn all that much about Stix, but everything I heard about him was good. I hope my friends can do the same for me after I kick the bucket.

Steel Legs

2005-08-24T04:11:00.000-07:00

Jackrabbit Jim and I were chasing the lead group. I new the first part of the ride went straight up Orville for the first steep climb. We got on but Jim decided to drop back to Paul. The guys weren't going all out but it was kind of fast. We hit Orville and I got dropped. I chased for a while but it didn't work. That put me sixth out of 75 riders, so I just went at my own pace. This was a hard ride, no doubt about it. Almost all hills. I rode with a guy from Springfield who caught me. After about five miles I finally figured out he wasn't doing the century. He rode along to St. Albans where there was a rest stop. Years ago the road we we on was a dead end. Thinking this was still so, I rode backward on the route and added about six miles, more that erasing the ten minute lead I had on the main group. To make matters worse, I did two very hard climbs I didn't need to climb. It was a grueling up and down into Labadie, with some long climbs after. There was wasn't much choice, so I kept on going. About 50 miles in I caught up to the Jackrabbit, Lou, and Sean changing a flat. I waited for them, I needed the draft for a little break.

We finally got the little hoosier town of Washington. I worked there many years ago and was never so happy to leave a place in my life. If was raining a bit and we got some weird looks from the people driving around. I noticed I was having to work pretty hard to keep up, but I took my turns pulling. Sean the Iron Man had good legs and blasted out of town up a hill at 23 mph for about 4 or 5 miles. I took a few pulls, but Sean did most of the work. I looked back and our group was gone. We let up for a minute and the Jackrabbit caught us. He said he dropped back to help the others catch up, but it wasn't going to happen so he caught back on to me and Sean. The Rabbit scampered up the last hill into Labadie and we stopped for lunch.

There was still a lot of hard climbing ahead. Now it was on to the end.

During the section back into St. Albans was I realized I was out of gas. Guys started passing me. I teamed up with Lou and we limped in to St. Albans. On the climb up to Ossenfort, Lou dropped me. I was barely moving. Thankfully, he waited at the top of the hill and we worked our way the last big climb of the day, Doberman hill.

I hit the bottom of the hill and passed an old guy on a recumbent. About a third of the way up it felt like lightning bolts were going off in my legs and I started cramping. I stopped and the guy on the recumbent went by. There was no way I was going to walk the hill. I waited a couple of minutes and pedaled straight legged up the hill. The rest of the ride in was slow going and I cut off the last loop and headed staight for the bike shop where we started.

Sean was there putting his bike away and preparing to go for a run. I was completely spent. In a few minutes Lou and the Jackrabbit pulled in with Paul. They rode the loop that I skipped.

A couple day later I measured the extra riding I did and it made my ride about 104 miles total. It was tied fo the hardest ride of the year with Emminence to Chester, sick Marquette time trial, and Rabrai Century, the into the wind part.

Hoosier 101 part 7

2005-03-20T06:05:00.000-08:00

Jimmy was alway nervous when Howard was there. He had three more of these visits to go and he couldn't wait for them to be over.

"So James, how has your job search been going?"

"Oh man, I'm starting Monday."

"Oh really, where are you going to be employed?"

"My mom heard about a job at Schwiess. They make some kind of electrical stuff. The job is 2nd shift. They pay $9.00 and hour to start."

"James, that is a promising development. Are you prepared to stick with a job like this? This type of work is very repetitive. You need to show up on time also."

"Dude, Oh I'm sorry I mean Sir, if it's going to mean getting me some money I'm gonna do it right. That other job didn't work out I know, but I learned my lesson, I mean I know it doesn't make sense at my age that I ain't got no steady job but to me it do or die right now, it's time to get it done. For one thing, I got come up with $500 to keep to lights and gas on. They said if I could make it up over time. I need to get even if I'm ever gonna get a new car. This is it, this is it. I don't care if it's the worst job in town, I'm going to step up to the plate and do what I need to do."

Howard heard what Jimmy had to say, but he was noticing that the vent on the space heater had finger smudges all over it. It looked odd. What a perfect place for a lazy person to try to hide something.

"Mr. Dowd, I have noted that you are starting work. I would like to commend you for taking the initiative. I have another appointment now. What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"Me and a buddy are a gonna work on his jeep."

Howard headed out on the porch and started breathing through his nose again. Down the steps and into the street back to the car. Mrs. Freund was watching him through the gap in the blinds. He pulled around the corner and started and called the precinct on his cell phone.

"This is Howard, I just came from Mr. Dowd's rental house and saw something suspicious. I believe he may in possession of illegal drugs. His landlord is Mr. Metzeler in south county. Please send an officer over to meet Mr. Metzeler and check the area around the space heater in the family room. Mr. Dowd is leaving shortly."

Kevin

2005-02-11T04:16:00.000-08:00

Kevin could play slide like Duane Allman. He was a bright guy from the rich side of town that I met in college. He always seemed to have a different girlfriend. We hung out in the same crowd. And even though we weren't the best of friends we got along okay because we liked to jam together. His guitar was an old Les Paul and it sounded great. He introduced me to Allman Brothers and Grateful Dead music. Later it was reggae.

After we had both moved home from college Kevin called and said there was a jam session with some guys that he knew from west county. I headed over there.

It was Kevin and a good drummer named Jim and a mild mannered guitar player whose name I've forgotten. Kevin and the guitar player had worked out many of the double lead parts by the Allman Brothers. I was a better singer than the other guys. Eventually I bought a bass and we formed a band doing mostly Allman Brothers, Grateful Dead, some Santana and Little Feat.

Our big debut was on a tuesday night at a dump, since torn down, called 20 North. It was the house bar for a band called Jake's Leg. They alway packed the place on the weekend.

We went over well enough that we were invited back. Kevin's guitar playing could be spectacular. The impression still lasts to this day.

Eventually we tried to play more and more reggae. It wasn't very convincing, even though I really enjoyed the music. Kevin got tired of the playing with us and moved on. The other guitar player quit playing altogether and focused on his career. Jim and I bacame good friends and went through quite a few more projects. Jim was never really interested in playing the bars, so eventually we gave up on it.

Last summer I ran into Kevin while I was out on a bike ride. He was looking fit and trim. He said he was devoted to his family and seemed to be happy. Now he was interested in spacey jazz.

It didn't surprize me. We had a good run together. I'll always appreciate those great moments he provided back in the day.

First Ride

2005-02-08T03:58:00.000-08:00

It was a green bike. I think it was by big sister's. It had one speed. It had fenders so strong that you could sit on them.

My sister was letting me pedal while she sat on the back. I wasn't tall enough to sit on the seat, so I just stood up. Karol was being very nice and was laughing at my awkward attempts as I pedaled her past the Goeckenbach house, then past Mrs. Wegman's back toward our mailbox. This went on for a while and Karol started to get tired of it.

Pedaling along, she said she was getting tired of our game and that she wanted to get off. I said go ahead and as she jumped off I somehow kept going!

I was up. I didn't know how to stop. The whole ride lasted just a few seconds. I started to lose my balance and ran up into the grass in front of the next door neighbors and tipped over in the yard.

Karol ran up to celebrate. We both ran in and told my mom.

Thinking back, that was in 1962. Kennedy was president. No Beatles yet, no computers, no air conditioning, no moms working. Hawks basketball, Cardinal football, no hockey, Ed Sullivan, corn field in the back yard, tons of kids to play with; not a bad time to be alive and riding your bike down the street.

Hoosier 101 part 6

2005-02-06T07:23:00.000-08:00

Jimmy didn't think of himself as a criminal. In a way, he really wasn't. He didn't shoplift. Bills got paid, usually late but he paid them. Every once in a while he would lose his temper, but he hadn't been in a brawl since 7th grade. His problem was his choice of friends. Tim Collins asked his to drive him to the liquor store about a year back.

"No problemo"

"I forgot my wallet. Could you stop at this house on the way so's I can run in and get it?"

They stopped. Jimmy thought it was odd that Tim ran around back. He was sitting there about 5 minutes when he saw a cop coming down the street with its lights on. Watching it in the rear view mirror they stopping right behind him. Then another. Then another. Next thing he knew Tim was coming out in handcuffs from behind the house.

Jimmy tried to explain that he was just giving his buddy a ride but the cops weren't buying it. Tim wasn't covering for him, so it was kind of hopeless. He spent the weekend in jail. By the time the trial came around he got probation.

Howard walked up the cracked up sidewalk with a rail made of painted pipe. His keys still in his hands, he tapped on the door glass. TACK TACK TACK. Jimmy knew it was his probation officer by the knock. He closed the back door and head up to let him in.

"Howard. Come on in."

Howard walked in and the familiar smell had him breathing mostly through his mouth. His hand held a worn vanilla folder. He went into the living room and set in a table under a velvet Elvis painting.

Chuck Clay Tribute

2005-02-02T03:22:00.000-08:00

After the L.A. West Band broke up I fell out for a while. I missed it, but got real busy getting ready to run the Chicago marathon. That's a whole 'nother story, but it took a lot of time and not playing in a band kind of helped.

The marathon came and went in October. I was getting used to not playing.

The phone rang in February and it was Ben Wells. He said there was a band that needed a front man and they were getting together to have a jam. If I was interested I should call Danny and get the scoop. So I called him and got the time and place.

I was Mardi Gras time in St. Louis. The place for the jam wasn't near the Mardi Gras, but people were dressed up and celebrating anyway. I pulled up in the gravel parking lot to the bar and saw a hand written sign that said "Chuck Clay Tribute". It was an old place that overlooked the interstate. A real hoosier dump, so I felt right at home.

Inside there were a bunch of guys playing. The usual smoke and beer smell. I wasn't a huge group, maybe 25 people. They were there to honor the band's front man, Chuck Clay. Chuck had just died a few weeks earlier. I had never heard of him, but he had a long run playing on the local scene. His wife was Ingrid Berry, Chuck Berry's daughter. She wanted to be a singer and was supposedly pretty good, but kind of hard to work with. She wasn't there either, which I thought was odd.

So I laid back for a while and Danny finally introduced himself during a break. On just the first few tunes I could tell he was a good keyboard player. He had a cool set up that included a Hammond B3 organ. The thing sounded great and looked to be pretty old. So Danny was seemed like a nice guy. He stood about 5 foot 4 and kind of had a serious look about him. His voice was a deep baritone.

Lots of people were taking turns jamming. Everybody was drinking and having a good time. When it was my turn I didn't try to grab the spot light. Danny was kind of directing traffic.

At one point I was up there with the whole old Chuck Clay band. Rob Murphy on bass, Jesse Jones on drums, Eric Pirtle on guitar, Danny and me. The rythym these guys laid down was incredible. Anyone who plays blues will tell you that a good rythym section make or breaks the front man. With these guys it was so easy to sound good. Toward the end, we kind of took it over and really had the audience with us. Every song ended with big smiles. People started dancing. I remembered just how much I enjoyed playing.

After time ran out I hung around a little while. Some people started complaining that they had spent so much money at the bar and the band didn't get paid. Back to reality. The manager took me off to the side and asked me if I wanted to play there again, without the band. That didn't make any sense so I just let it slide.

Pulling out of the gravel parking lot in my new Chuck Clay tee shirt I was enthused about playing again. They never called me back so I called them. To this day I still don't know much about Chuck Clay.

Double Pace Line

2005-01-26T03:57:00.000-08:00

One thing most bike riders never try is racing or trying to go fast. Which is fine. Getting outside and enjoying the day makes for good exercise and a social outlet. This kind of riding is usually done at 12 to 15 mph.

But as you speed up the first thing you notice is how the wind starts to push back. One solution is for everyone to ride in a line. The person in front of the line is out in the wind and needs to try a lot harder to go the same speed as the rider behind.

A pace line takes this fact and sets up a rotation on the front of the line. When the front person's turn is over the hand comes out and (if no cars are coming) he drops to the back of the line. They say the front person is pulling (helping the others along).

A double pace line take up more road. In a double pace line the time at the front is very short. After he finishes, the front guy goes into another line that is slowing down compared to the main line. As he get to end of the main line he goes to the end and starts working his way back up to the front.

I've only done this a few times, but it can carry a very fast pace. By myself I can only go about 22 mph for an extended time. Last year when we did the double pace line we were going over 27 mph for about a half hour. Later, when we had the wind at our backs we speeded up to over 30 mph at times. This wouldn't impress a pro biking team. These guys routinely go over 30 mph. A lot of them can do that alone. But it sure was fun for me!

Hoosier 101 part 5

2005-01-25T02:05:00.000-08:00

After Howard hung up the phone he decided he wanted something to eat. He knew it would make him late for his appointment but frankly, he didn't really give a crap about disappointing some convicted criminal. Heading down Jefferson he made a right on Gravois and headed for White Castle.

Jimmy's clean up job was just about done. He had double bagged his stash hiding it in the vent off an old space heater in the kitchen. He decided to brush his teeth for the first time since Saturday night. He figured Howard would be late again, but it still pissed him off. Terry's call had him stoked to get with him and Stoner. Just then he noticed another beer can in the corner behind the plastic palm. After the can was in the trash he headed up to the sink where the yellow frayed toothbrush waited.

Brushing was a bit quicker experience now that his eye teeth had been pulled. About half of the yellowed and blackened teeth bled every time he even lightly touched the bright red infected gums. He had to leave about 10 minutes to get the bleeding to stop.

By now Howard was in line at White Castle. It was a clean place full of dirty people. None of the workers looked that happy to be there but they all hustled.

"I'll take three white castles, a cheese fry, and a medium coke."

A bum wearing an old army jacket was sitting on the other side of the room looking out at the intersection of Grand and Gravois. As he warmed up, the smell of urine became stronger and stronger. A few people sat close by at first, but moved away when the stench hit.

Howard headed out to the car. This time he switched on the radio. He tuned in sports talk and listened to a call in show. Most of the caller were complaining about the Cardinals relief pitching. Who were these people who called in all the time? A loud slurping noise let him know lunch was over.

Where was Dowd's house? On Nebraska? As he headed down Cherokee a street hooker tried to make eye contact. Howard started humming Hoochie Coochie Man to himself. He glanced in the rear view mirror to see the young girl ducking into a store as a cop drove by.

At 11:28 he pulled up to Jimmy's place.

In Concert

2005-01-22T05:23:00.000-08:00

Going to a great concert is always fun. It's hit and miss too. Random thoughts.

Bright shining like the sun that day...

Jimmy Dale Gilmour. He had a hot lead guy from Norway or Sweden. Left us yelling for more.
The Mighty Itals. The Pips on ganja. Extreme dub on the mixing board. Good like Black Market Clash.
Greg Brown. Great voice and guitar. Got it done with just a lead player. Second time, not so good.
Santana. Early 80s show. A great positive energy and fun time up on that stage.
Chuck Berry. A lunch time show at a fair. Small enough crowd for everyone to sing along and have fun.
Earl Klugh. Mellow in the way mellow is good. Absolute mastery of the guitar.
War. Perfect band at the perfect time on the Memphis Riverfront.
Ike Turner. An old guy who still knows how to do it. Second time not so good.
Dire Straits. Ghost in the guitar, great songwriting.
Bruce Cockburn. Left me spellbound. Why doesn't he get credit for his leads? Second time not as good.
Delbert McClinton. Texas Van Morrison. Had a great band that night.
James Taylor. First few times great, finally just knew the schtick too well to enjoy it.
George Benson. With the band from Breezin'. An all-star fiesta!

Disappointing
Bob Dylan
Jimmy Buffett
Dave Matthews
Al Green
Leon Russell
Grateful Dead
Ohio Players
Van Morrison

Guilty Pleasure
Lee Greenwood
The Tokens
P Funk

Covered Bridge

2005-01-19T04:26:00.000-08:00

I think it was about riding on Good Friday. Todd was over and we talked about it. We did the usual email thing. By the time the day came around we headed over to the official starting point at a Shell staion. Jeeze, our little conversation had grown to over 20 guys. Which was good, because we didn't exactly know all the turns.

The ride started out along the outer road of the interstate. A quick turn and we were into some beautiful country. I had heard the ride was hilly. We started climbing. There was an older looking guy that I passed on the climb. Is he going to keep up?

We popped up into a small town known for its meth labs. There was a minor crash. After getting up I sprayed the wounds with water from my camelback and got going.

Up and down, up and down. No really long climbs. It kept it interesting. Trailer parks and farms. Country houses. Not too many cars. Mostly pickups. Reasonable pace. Hey this rides not too bad.

Stopped for a while and helped a guy with a broken chain. Hammered a while to catch up. Finally got to the covered bridge. My first thought is how much dope gets smoked here? The road out of the covered bridge leads to nowhere. After a short break we head out. A guy tells me we're on our way back now.

The road starts to go up. Todd and Larry drop me. I'm going all out just to keep going. The hill goes on and on and on. A couple more guys pass me. Jeeze, this is a long hill. We crest it and start blasting down the other side in to a flat section. I'm working with a guy and we are flying. We have to be pushing 30 mph. I'm thinking we'll catch the guys in front. Finally, we come to a small town and everyone is waiting.

We hit another huge climb. The "old" guy is blasting away leading the whole group now. Later on I find out he is a nationally ranked mountain bike racer.

By the ride's end I'm shot. I crawl up the last hill on the way home. After lunch and a nap I'm good to go.

75 miles total on the covered bridge ride. A pain fiesta!

Hoosier 101 part 4

2005-01-16T08:02:00.000-08:00

Howard Harris headed out out of his apartment around 7:45 to make the short drive to the Probation office. He fired up his 91 Saturn. Juke by Little Walter.

Blues was his passion. He had every key harmonica, the right amp, the right microphone. The bands all knew his and were happy to let him sit in. He was even good on the tunes with no harp parts. Howard just invented horn parts or stayed out when he couldn't think of anything. He could never get gigs with a band even though he tried. The problem was that bringing Howard in would make for a pay cut for everbody, so he never really hooked up with a regular gig for very long.

A tall fellow on a bike went by as he pulled on to Chouteau. Half a block later he pulled in and heaed into the probation office. Dawn and Dorothy were late as usual.

First things first. A quick trip to the coffee maker. Log on to the computer. Check the names for this week. Mondays were always busy.

William Banks - Assault
James Dowd - Burglary
Phillip Smith - Arson
Kendrell Evans - Sexual Assault
Shipley Muhammad - Forgery, Writing Bad Checks
Fletcher Fagen - Manslaughter

Six visits today.

Howard got on the phone. It was rare to get an answer this early. But these men all knew they had better be there for the appointment or it was back to jail. The call to Jimmy was the second call of the day.

"James, this is Howard Harris. This call is to remind you that I will be visiting today between 10 and 11. If you are not present when I visit the matter will be referred to the court."

After a half hour of filing a never ending pile of paperwork, Howard headed back to the Saturn. After the visit to Billy Banks, it was on to Mr. Dowd's place. Flipping through his CD case he pulled out some live Van Morrison. The holster dug in to his side as he turned around and slid the CD case back under the seat.

At that point Jimmy was sitting on the couch scraping his weed back in to a baggie and hiding his pipe. It was 10:37 AM.

Blind Melon

2005-01-10T17:36:00.000-08:00

A couple years back I went out to San Diego for a vacation. I stayed at my niece's condo right on the bay right in Pacific Beach. I had been fronting the LA West band for a while at the time.

We were a run of mill blues band for St. Louis. We usually played Johnny's in Soulard. A lot of the people who came in were there to see the hot waitresses. Still, we had our moments.

LA West was a band name used by Ben Wells, our drummer. Ben had played drums his whole life. A lot of the time he was with the Blues Eldorados backing up Tommy Bankhead. Tommy was an excellent musician. He never made the big time, but he was bit of a local legend. Anyway, Ben got the jobs and we played them. Most of our tunes was stuff I knew, so in a way it was my band.

There is a lot of competition in blues in St. Louis. Any night you can go out and see a pretty good blues band at lots of bars. The guys like Ben who started it all kind of get squeezed out. Some bands were playing for $25 a man. We got $62.50 a man. Even the bigger clubs paid barely $100. Even with the peanuts that you could make, bars wanted demo tapes and all kinds of sucking up to get in the door. I didn't really need the money that bad. If was fun while it lasted.

So anyway I'm out in San Diego with my niece's husband Todd. We're out hanging on the strip and we walk by this place called Blind Melon. It's a blues place. The sign says they have a jam session that night. I tell Todd that sounds like fun. He's never heard me play so he goes along. We get there and there's this complicated sign up deal. You get up and play for a half hour then you're done. The thing is organized by some San Diego blues society. The jam sessions in St. Louis are way less organized than this place. In the Lou you could get up and play for a while.

I didn't bring a guitar on vacation. I found the main guy and asked him if there was a guitar I could borrow. He asked me if I played blues. I told him I fronted a blues band in St. Louis, which didn't seem to impress him. He reluctantly said I could borrow his personal guitar, which I thought was very cool. It was a sweet Strat with humbucking pickups and a whammy bar.

So we got up there. It was me, a drummer, a harmonica player and a bass player. That meant nothing to play the chords during my leads. No big deal.

We launched in to Let the Good Times Roll, BB King style. The guitar sounded absolutely great. The sound was good and I had a blast. We cooked through a few more tunes and I kind of did my usually directing traffic thing and made sure all the other guys got the spot light.

I knew we were running out of time. The guy was nice enough to let me borrow his axe so I tried to wind it down on time. When it was time to quit he said to give us 5 more minutes.

That 5 more minutes sure meant a lot to me.

After my turn was over I came back to see Todd at the table. There weren't many people in the place. I think it was a Thursday night.

I wasn't sure if Todd would have gotten into something like that. He ws stoked. Later on he bough me a Blind Melon tee shirt. We left after an hour or so and the jam was still going strong.

Night Ride

2005-01-07T04:33:00.000-08:00

It was a moonless night as I stood in the relay area. Delbert was singing Givin It Up For Your Love and a guy had just endoed to respectful applause. Todd was out there somewhere. His lap was taking longer that the last time. It should have been an omen.

Finally he appeared. I fired up my light and we didn't say much. I ran out to the bike and jumped on. My legs were dead. I figured I would warm up and get going. I cruised past camfires on both sides of the trail. It was surreal. Songs faded in and out. My light made the ground ahead look much more dangerous.

There was a drop off with a sand pit at the bottom. The line had changed quite a bit and there was a bit rut worn into the starting point. I got over and shot off to the right, flipped over and crashed. Nothing hurt, the sand took the impact. It was pointless to try to ride out. I walked a bit until I had solid ground.

Slow motion. No energy. The rocky climb seemed much harder than the last two times. Getting up over the ledges was excruciating. The dark made it worse. I decided to just get through it instead of attacking.

At the top of the climb I had the chance to make up some time. But it was my second time riding with lights. Going fast seemed too dangerous. The strange shadows made the line hard to pick out. Oh well. I guess it's going to take a while.

I hit the toboggan run it a few minutes. Rode the brakes all the way. Creeped up the the next sections and got off to walk. Not even liking this a bit by now. Carried the bike down nosedive and some of the rideable drop offs. Up the sandy hill. Losing MoJo with every step.

Finally came to a fast stretch and had to creep along when the light started freaking me out. Luckily I could follow some other rider part of the way and get a free preview.

There a was a sandy, rocky drop off and I got off to look it over. Another racer got off right behind me.

"I've got the use my brain on Monday"

We both walked down.

Another long climb. I seemed to hold my own with group that had formed. We crossed a slickrock section and they lost me on a descent.

Finally, the tent city in the distance. No clock. How long had this been taking? Way longer than last time. I felt ashamed for letting my team down.

A chance to speed up. Riding on a 4 inch wide line in the sand. Occasionally felt the bike lose contact with the ground and start skiing on the sand.

Heading into the finish the overall leader passed me like I was standing still. He had been riding for nearly 14 hours straight. My self esteem took another hit.

Finished. Rich was waiting. It was the middle of the night. I limped back to find my sleeping bag.

Later on I looked up my time and it was a full half hour slower than the first go around. There for anybody to see. Certain forever that this wasn't for me I decided to get through my next turn and turn the page to put the experience out of my mind.

One day later I was obsessed with trying it again. I guess I just can't stand failure. 24 Hours of Moab, 2005 should be much better.

hoosier 101 part 3

2005-01-06T03:36:00.000-08:00

At first he wasn't sure what the sound was. It could be battery beeping on the smoke detector. No, it's the phone ringing. He wasn't sure how long it had been going off. He lifted his head and the stiff grey hair on the right side stood straight out and as he stumbled across the floor to pick it up. On the way he noticed a smell and the pile Flair had left him by the door.

"Hallo?"

"Jimmy, you up yet?"

"I am now. Who is this?"

"Stoner and I're goin' down to the river. He got his starter rebuilt. The CJ is runnin' again. We got box of refreshments. I called in."

"When?"

"I'm needin' to run by Dirt Cheap, I'll tell you what, pick ya up in a hour."

"Dude, my probation officer is supposed to be here in an hour. Two hours."

"Yer slower than a woman, but I'll be there."

On the way to the pile of dog crap he started the hot water. Flair ran out side and started barking at a car driving down the alley. The pile flew out the door a little later. I landed on rusty roll of chain link. The fence was sitting over sink that had been sitting there since 1978 when it had a leak.

Arnold's No Pig

2005-01-05T04:10:00.000-08:00

The lovely community of Arnold, Missouri is just south of St. Louis. Perched at the northern tip of Jefferson County, Arnold is a growing metropolis featuring its own Walmart, Drury Inn, strip shopping centers (too numerous to list here) and of course a landmark water tower upon which it emblazoned her name. Notable restaurants include Pizza Hut, McDonalds, and (I believe) the original Bandana's Barbecue. In a pinch, a quick meal can be purchased at any number of convenience stores where three separate grades of fuel (87,89, and 91 octane) are available. I've even heard that some of these shop offer diesel!

The northern approach to Arnold is breathtaking at dawn. As one crests the hill on southbound 55 (Cracker Barrel on your left) the excitement builds. There, across an expansive and impressive 10 lanes of concrete sits the Meramec River. Above to your left rises the majestic water tower. A welcoming beacon in the wilderness. An monument that whispers to the commuter, you are out of St. Louis now and are crossing into Jefferson County!

hoosier 101 part 2

2004-12-07T04:51:00.000-08:00

The red number on the clock has been flashing for over a month. But the clock is facing the wall is doesn't matter. One time he thought about unplugging it to save on electricity, but then he figured he wasn't going to pay it anyway so why bother. The dog hair covered couch he's laying on has a massive droop in the center from standing on it to turn on the ceiling fan. He pulled the chain too hard once and now it's broken. Behind the kitchen stove the roaches are bathed in a mixture of grease, cheerios, and macaroni. There are about 10 out in the open, but the majority live in the wall.

Just as a dark cloud drifts by the phone rings.

Times Beach

2004-12-06T06:31:00.000-08:00

Back in the 80s I had the idea to start a band that played all originals. I put an ad in the paper and people called. Nobody seemed too impressed when I said I wanted to mix rock, reggae, soul and jazz and punk into one big mish mash. We tried it anyway. I think we got a gig at a dump called the Bufont Daddy in south county. It fell apart after the drummer quit. Later on, I heard the Bufont Daddy burned down and it could have been arson. I even forget what we called ourselves.

But I do remember meeting an interesting guy named Bob Shea. I was working full time and had a family, but Bob was the real deal living the life. At first he lived in Maplewood with his girlfriend Kim. I think later on Kim moved out to LA and Bob moved above Cicero's in the U City loop. Bob had been in a punk band called Times Beach. I thought the name was hilarious because I had actually worked in Times Beach just as it was declared a toxic waste area and evacuated by the feds. Bob wasn't the lead in Times Beach, but he had a bunch of songs of his own and we played a few. He was into Kung Fu and had some ideas that seemed strange to me and we really didn't hit it off on a personal level. But his his songs were good. I remember he had a tune called Romeo Rocks that I liked. His voice had a good punky scratchy style to it. About 10 years later I ran into him and he was living in an apartment and we decided to get together. He called to set a time once and then I never heard from him again.

So many times music is a shared interest between people, but it just doesn't mesh for some reason. The differences can slight, but the result is that projects don't last. I wonder if Bob ever found a good band to play his stuff. I'm sure he probably did and they got so far and ran out of gas. Just like everbody elses project. We're all just like moths crashing into a porch light to a certain extent. But the music makes us feel right so we never stop. Same in the 80s as now.

Drama in Real Life, bike carnage 2004

2004-12-05T05:40:00.000-08:00

Scenes I seen from the year...

Doing about 30 mph, Larry is in front of me shoot down a winding hill near High Ridge, Mo. A couple guys are off the front and he's pretty fearless so I'm not trying to keep up. We're doing the 75 mile covered bridge ride. So anyway, we hit a sweeping left and Larry goes down and starts sliding. He finally runs off the road and sprays into the shoulder through all the leaves and sticks. I shoot by just as he stops. He just missed whacking into a tree as far as I can tell. I turn around and see how he's doing. His skin is gone on many parts of his leg and arm, but no broken bones. He gets back up and rides another 60 miles or so.

About 10 laps in to a crit I see Larry's (different Larry) back wheel start to slide around going about 35 mph down a hill. As he trys to regain control and almost makes it, but he hits another guy and goes down real hard. His helmet gets crunched real good. Broke bones in his back. Larry is wanting to cuss, but he doesn't let himself because, well, he doesn't cuss. He moans "fiddlesticks" and other such expletives until the ambulance comes. The race gets cancelled.

On the Marquette ride (35 hilly miles), I'm in the lead group and coming down a hill and see a lady in a minivan waiting to turn left across our path into a gravel parking lot where there are some ball fields. She sees us and stops, so nobody slows down. Then at the last second she starts to go and pulls right out in front the lead rider. He rams into the side of the minivan and slides along the length of it as a couple of the riders go down. A bunch of us stand around until the ambulance comes. The we keep on going.

It's raining on the Dogfish (32 miles) ride and I make a right on to Mason off of Ladue road. Sean is right behind me. When I hit the smooth pavement and start heading downhill I go down on my right side and slide along. Luckily no cars are coming. Sean waits while I get right back on and eventually we catch the group after a few miles. I wind up with a major ass bruise and a hole in my shorts. Afterword, I just keep riding with the hole.

Out past Waterloo we are bombing down a hill and heading for Bluff Road. There is a steep right turn. Mark and Little Luke get into a ditch on the left and both of them flip over. Luke winds up on the other side of the electric fence. The neighbors come out to see what is going on, but everbody can still ride so we keep on going. For some reason I think the electric fence thing is funny.

We're out at Columbia bottoms and riding on some chip seal road. I don't realize Sean is drafting off of me and when I slow down and turn around he clips my wheel and goes down, slicing his knee. It looks pretty nasty so he head back to the car. Later he said it didn't need stiches, but it looked like it did at the time.

Moab 1: Bombing down Klondike Bluffs Trail on the slick rock Todd hucks down on a section of gravel, flattens his tire, and whacks into a either a bush or a tree. He shakes it off and we keep messing around on the slick rock, which is a blast. At the end we loaded four mountain bikes and four guys into a Ford Escape. You should try it, it was a bit tight.
Moab 2: At 1:30 in the morning in the 24 Hours of Moab I'm surfing around on the sand heading for a 15 foot drop. I shoot off the edge and lose it to the right and endo. My light keep working, so I slog on. Sometime around then one of the course marshalls get bit by a rattlesnake she's playing with.

Thankgiving ride out at Marquette. We are just getting started and I see a rider slip and fall hard on his side. We catch up to him and see if he's going to be able to keep going. He's in pretty much pain -- but it doesn't seem that bad. Later on I heard he broke his pelvis in three places.

Well, that's about it. See you on the next ride!

hoosier 101 part 1

2004-12-03T06:34:00.000-08:00

He slowly wakes up on the couch. It's 11:02 in the morning and the grey sky shows though the dusty miniblinds and cracked filmy window. His pit bull tried to be let out around 9, but it didn't happen so "Flair" (named after the nature boy) gave it up on the kitchen floor by the door. The roaches have plenty of crumbs to work on so they just leave the pile alone.

The coffee table has 14 empty Milwaukee's Best cans, 21 cigarette butts, two uneaten Lee's chicken wings, a three year old copy of Hustler magazine, and a two week old letter from the court he hasn't bothered to read yet. The kerosene heater is making a noise, but he can't hear it because the Price is Right is drowning it out.

Out on the street in front is his Pontiac Sunbird. The duct tape that holds the cardboard on where the sunroof used to be is faded through in spots. The dash is barely visible under piles of trash. The junk in the back seat is hidden under a sleeping bag he threw over it the day he went to his mom's house and he wanted it to look nice.

The smell can best be described as a cross between an ashtray and a small neighorhood gas station bathroom. You know, the kind that says Out of Order on the door -- but if you ask they will give you a key with a two foot piece of PVC pipe hooked to it, it's got cloth handwashing towels, one side of the sink works, and one 25 watt light bulb. Ah, that smell that he loves after a long night of rocking out at the Shenandoah with Chuck and Robbie. Actually, he doesn't really remember going home and making it to the couch, but he did like the smell at the time, trust me on this one.

to be continued...

Me and My Guitar

2004-12-02T06:14:00.000-08:00

Guitar has brought me a lot of good things. James Taylor wrote a good tune called Me and My Guitar. It's about getting down in the dumps and having your old bud there to pick you up. He hit the nail on the head. I heard Chet Atkins play it. You can kind of tell you are going into a long term relationship with the old box if when you first pick it up you can't put it down. Before I ever could play a chord I would sit there and play a string, then two together, then put my ear right on the back and see if that sounded different.

I gave lessons for a while. You could tell who didn't pick it up all week. There was one kid I taught named Dan. I really admired the kid. One day his mom called a little worried saying Dan wanted to go to major in guitar in Boston. He did try it, I never heard what happened. He was a good chord man. I don't read music, so all I did was get him started. That kind of passion is what gets you good.

I never got into collecting guitars. I can't believe it when somebody buys Eric Clapton's old guitar for tons of money or whatever. I mean, take EC's hands off of it and it's just a guitar. I'm pretty sentimental about my old Gibson SG though. My brother bought it for me back in the early 70s. Later he told me he traded some you know what for it. The thing got beaten up during the college days. Years later I finally bought a case for it. Now it's been through hundred of blues jobs in every kind of hoosier bar in town and it stays in tune and absolutely screams on lead.

There is so much more about music to tell you about. But the clock is ticking down and I have to go to work.

J Howard Here

2004-12-01T06:22:00.000-08:00

Coming to you live from Missouri -- J Howard here. I'm sitting here aching pretty good right now due to the fact that I went over the handlebars on the Chubb. P'ssd me off when it happened. Chubb is a nasty mountain bike trail along the Meramec River in west St. Louis County. I rode it by myself Sunday (which was stupid) and after it rained a lot (which was stupid). So after I stupidly headed out there in the 40 degree cold I made through all the hard parts and I stupidly decided to go slow down this stupid hill (you know, the stupid one) and planted my front wheel on a rock. It was like slow motion as I reached point of no return. I wacked my knee pretty good and tore up the riding tights. So I'm sitting there deciding if I need to puke thinking how stupid I am. Then I realize it's getting dark and nobody is going to come along and I'm thinking, how can I be so freaking stupid. After a little while I limp up the hill to Lewis Road and take a shortcut back to the easy part of a trail. I run into a guy with his two daughters on horses and they go by. The last girl looks over and sees my knee bleeding all over. I made it back -- got yelled at by the wife for being so stupid and went to bed early. Then she comes upstairs and says the sink is blocked up. So I go working on it and can't get it to drain. I even tried two plungers, drano, the whole nine yards. I'm an idiot. Great way to end a four day weekend.