Pain in the...Back

So I take a closer look at my handlebar and stem due the back pain I have been having. My road bike has a high tech carbon fiber stem and carbon fiber bar. The fittings are all titanium. I even bought a torque wrench to make sure all was of proper tightness as to not ruin the expensive equipment.

Well, comes to find out my handlebar had rotated in the stem, in effect, causing my position on the bike to be about 10 millimeters longer and the same distance lower. Doesn't seem like much, does it..? Oh, it is.

My back is feeling much better and I am going to check my measurements on the bike more often.

Oh, and I tightened the stem tighter than factory specs.

Lions and tigers and bars...Oh my...

Fuso with Shimano Dura-Ace

Both bikes shown are my size...I will keep eyeing eBay...

Dave Moulton Fuso

Dave Moulton built the nicest framesets this side of Waterford, Wisconsin. He began with Masi and was the first builder to be allowed to build with Reynolds 753 tubing. He is also a musician and a savvy writer.

I had an identical frameset in my hands in 1987. When I began to build it, I found the fork crown was not milled just right and the headset would bind when you turned it 360 degrees. My OCD was even worse then and I sent the frameset back even though Dave said he would immediately send out a new fork. Dumb...

This Dave Moulton Fuso frameset is built up pretty much the same way I would have done it except for the seat, chrome pump and little seat light. All Campagnolo Super Record and Cinelli gear. I love the color and the red was even more rich in person. It hurts a little to look at the picture. Much like looking at the picture of an old girlfriend you really liked.

Oh well...

Anticipation and Pain

Next on the race list is the Warm Lake 3 Summit Challenge. In two weeks on Saturday July 31st starting in Cascade. The first climb is Big Creek Summit from the Cascade side. Next up to Warm Lake Summit. Then back to the Big Creek Summit from the Warm Lake side. 65 miles with 6500 total feet of climbing. Ouch.

I have been riding Willow Creek Road in anticipation of the event. It is only 21 miles but feels like 42. My Lynskey is a way better hill climber than me and I feel I am holding back my titanium/carbon fiber beast with my human frailty. I am working on core exercises for my lower back as that has turned out to be my weak spot. If my lower back did not hurt so much, I can only imagine what my performance might be. My legs are scary strong.

I can't wait for the challenge but in a scared sort of way. Pain is my friend...pain is my friend...pain is my friend...

Yeah, I know...

Children

I love my grown up children. But I do miss my little children. I would go back in time if I could. Maybe I could have been a better father.

If You Want To Go Fast, Go Alone. If You Want To Go Far, Go With Others

Last Friday, July 19th, I hosted the third annual Iron Butt Ride. The goal is to travel 1000 miles in 24 hours. I put out the invitation to about 10 guys I have ridden with before. I told them to invite whoever they wanted but the ride was limited to 1000 riders. Two of them showed up but they brought 8 friends with them. It was a new experience riding with people you don't know. That added up to 11 total riders, 5 more than my previous largest Iron Butt group. Two were women which was also a new aspect.

The route was Boise - Twin Falls - Pocatello - Idaho Falls - Dubois - Butte - Missoula - Kellogg - Coeur d'Alene - Spokane - Ritzville - Pasco -Pendleton.

We left about 6:30 in the morning and headed east. Of course I had to lead the echelon. It is a lot of pressure...maintaining a group speed, spacing gas and bio stops, taking the right route, choosing where to eat, etc. Good thing I love pressure. One of my friends led for about 10 miles, missed a turn and gave it back to me.

I also found immediately one of my wires had come loose from the clip under the rear fender. It had rubbed on the rear tire til it split and I had no rear right turn signal. A bit of a problem if you are leading. I resorted to giving hand signals to the second rider and he started the string of signaling.

It was a very interesting ride. It is all freeway but quite nice after you get past Dubois. My Harley friends have nicknamed me "the Apache" because I can sit up front all day and must remember to stop and give them a rest. Usually there are things about group riding that really bug me but this trip I enjoyed all the nuances and conflicting personalities. Which left me nothing to whine about which was kind of a bummer...

We stopped in Connell, Washington for gasoline at the Exxon Station. It was the only service station in town and also the hotspot for all the cholos in town. About a dozen of the preening gang wannabes were clustered around the front door. I had to go inside and walked through the middle of them. They tried very hard to look "bad" but my direct stare parted the way along with the reassuring weight of my .45 on my hip. I couldn't help smiling as I knew they sensed a sheepdog. Two cops came and broke them up...running them off the property. They also were checking me out as my holster hangs a little below my vest. They chose to leave me alone.

We took two hours longer to complete the grand. But I was not as tired as the last two miles were night riding and I am exhilarated by night riding. A little danger ignites my love for risk and pushing the envelope.

Grim (above) was dirty and covered with bugs as was I. We both had bugs in our teeth from smiling too much.

Pure Zen.....

Drakes and Walkers

Some days are diamonds
Some days are rocks
Some doors are open
Some roads are blocked.

This day was a diamond.

Cowboy Up

I was probably 8 or 9 years old at the time. My father was driving "our" '57 Pontiac down the dusty road that led to Silver City. I had a brand new straw cowboy hat that I was really quite taken with. My parents had bought it for me. Probably with some sacrifice. I have always loved hats.

I was holding the hat out the window as the air rushed by. It was fun to "fly" the hat through the air. Suddenly, the wind pulled the hat from my hand and I watched it disappear behind us in the dust of the road.

I was afraid to say anything although I was crushed at the loss. I was afraid of my father's reaction to having to stop and find my hat. I think about this event to this day and wish I had said something to my father.

If you lose your cowboy hat out the window, don't be afraid to ask for help.