Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Ok, So I Have A Legitmate Excuse For Letting My Blog Slide...

...and here he is:


His introduction to Zoe

Puppy Naps Are Essential

I'm going to need a bigger lap!

Gambrinus landed in our lives Sunday. It's been a few years and apparently I've forgotten just much work a 16lb furball can be. Between the housebreaking and the constant "NO!" "STOP THAT!" and "DON'T EAT THAT!" I haven't had time to blog....or hit the trainer....or put some miles on my skis. Hell, even getting in a SHOWER is considered a victory. He's crate trained, so fortunately, he sleeps at night, but the 2AM potty trip is doing serious damage to my relationship with good 'ol Morpheus.

The little furwad is sleeping under my chair while I write this.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Things I Done Learnt From My Bikes

If you mount cartridge - style rim brake brake pads with the open end of the cartridge facing forward, when you apply the brakes, the rim pulls the pads forward, out of their holders, and throws them on the road. This leaves you with no brakes. This is not good.

The likelihood of you needing your patch kit on the day you leave it home, increases proportionally to your distance down the trail, from the truck.

The dog leash you always bring but never need because there's never anyone else on the trail, will be needed the day you leave it home. (Which also happens to be the same day as above, when you left your patch kit home, too).

You buy bikes the same way you buy meat - by the pound. But with bikes the more you spend the less you get, - what's up with that?

The girl you were trying to impress with your wheelie-ing skillz will express something other than admiration when your front wheel falls off and you auger face-first into the pavement. (And, no, it was't "sympathy" either).

Many, many bad things have happened on bikes right after the words "watch this!" were uttered.

There is a direct, proportional, relationship between how good a rider you think you are and the possibility of getting smoked by a 60 year old woman on a 50Lb WalMart bike, wearing a flowered mumu, a 70's vintage Styrofoam helmet and flip flops.

There's no such thing as a group of guys getting together for a "friendly, easy ride".

Those people in their car gawking at you are not trying to tell "is that really Lance" or not. They're laughing at you.

Every single person you pass by, when you're on your tandem, thinks they're the funniest person in the world and the first one to ever tell you "Hey, she's not pedaling, back there!"

That "extra" bolt you left on the bench WAS important.

The worst day on a bike still beats the hell out of the best day at work.