2006 Texas State Time Trial Champion 10-12yrs

.8 gallons of gas, some jerky and Ivermectin Wormer

I'm riding the scooter with a Young Gun on my wheel. He's getting ready for a trip across the pond. We're settling into our groove. The weather is favorable after a record heat wave for April slapped us in the throat. A long sleeve t-shirt is just right for me on the motor and him in shorts and short-sleeve jersey working up a sweat. Easy there, boys.

As I mentioned, we are in the groove, but about three miles into the ride is when I decide to check the gas gauge. Not good.

So I send him up the road and I stop at a country gas station. What makes it a country gas station? Well, it is also a feed and tack store, and the only non-truck vehicle at the place is me, on a red Vespa-like scooter. And I'm wearing a black helmet with flames on it. No matter how hard you try, it is hard to fit in like that.

I filled up the tank, which holds 1.1 gallons full, and went inside to pay (no pay at the pump here). I didn't have any cash, so I had to bust out the check card for my $2.67 in gas. Needing to show that I am indeed manly, I picked up some jerky as well. But I didn't like it.

With a bit of hurry to my step, I head for the door and an entering Farmer Joe holds the door open for me. I tip the bill of my helmet to him, say "Howdy" and "Thanks" and then see that the pump I chose to use to fill up my steed is the only pump that also spews diesel, and there is a line of two big trucks behind Collina, my faithful red scooter.

"Sorry 'bout that," I say. Farmer John replies, "Y'all are sure going fast out there. Have a good ride."

Well, we sure did.

Hey, llama! Come here, llama!

Sitting in the comfy chair in the living room doing some work on the computer. It is fascinating work, editing a bio profile thing and getting some articles tweaked that I wrote years ago. Anyway, out the dining room window I saw a llama walk down our driveway and out the gate.

Whuh?!

Pretty sure I was seeing things, I sat up straighter and got back to work. But then I saw throught the windows at the back of our house that a llama was walking down the road.

Up I get, make sure I'm dressed, and I hightail it out to the street. The pavement burns my feet, but since it is my gate to the pasture is open, this is pretty much all my fault. I run as best I can to go get the llama, which responds by running away from me, of course.

Eventually, I get the thing turned around and spend the next 30 minutes or so getting the thing 200 yards back into our front gate. I spend the next 30+ minutes trying to get it through our yard and back out into the pasture. But it is all good now.

What are llamas used for, anyway?

I just went out to take a picture of one of the llamas (you wouldn't have known if it was the llama anyway). Three of them were under the tree next to the well house. As soon as I opened the front door, they took off running. Watching three llamas run from me opening the door is funnier (only just) than me, barefoot, trying to round one up.

Big Sam Weekend

After the crit on Saturday, we made our way back to Stella Sola via I45. We had to convince ProCard that there were trees in Texas. Plus we wanted to show him Big Sam.




Big Sam. And Kid #1.


We raced bikes over the weekend. Kid #1 and I raced on the track. Kid #1 won the Youth B's handily. Not sure why he was put in Youth B's, but since it was his first night racing at Alkek, and we showed up just as registration closed (no warm up at all), there wasn't much point arguing. I raced masters. Did ok in races #1 and #3, but totally messed up the plot in race #2 to the point that I missed the bus, the car after that, the scooter after that, and the lady pushing her twins in the stroller after that.

We grabbed some IHOP at 11pm and then found a motel for the night. Early to rise for a early race for Kid #1 on Saturday at the Heights Crit.

This is a nice race, and I hope they can continue to pull it off. It was held in the Heights area in Houston. Felt like one of the Superweek crits in Wisconsin (minus the crowds and hangover). Made ProCard feel at home a little.

Kid #1 rode the ride of his life, thus far. He finished 7th overall in a race that included 17-18, 15-16, 13-14 and 10-12 age groups. He won the 10-12's in this LAJORS race, which helped add to his medal collection.

ProCard has already been beat down by The Coach about his race, but to sum it up, he missed the break because he was goofing at the back of the field. He made the most of what was then a workout, but sat up near the end of the race because he didn't think the leaders could handle the last corner at speed. The leaders balled it up in the last corner, taking 6 or so people down. Live to fight another day.

But we got to see Big Sam on the way home.

By the way, Peter left for his Wisconsin home today. Get back here soon, ProCard!

Perspective

Can't Pimp This Ride Much More Than It Is

Here's Noah's new sled. Frame/Fork courtesy
of GSTz. The Dura Ace stuff is a hook up from
pro, Peter Femal. The rest is stuff that was in
the garage.


Here's Noah at the start of the first Tuesday
Nighter of 2006 in Plano. Sort of a famous
race. Noah is racing in the C's here, which is
against grown ups, though there were a couple
of high school kids in this race. Noah was
dropped pretty early, but fought back to finish
ahead of the two high schoolers and a couple
of grown ups. This was his second ride on his
new bike.

The commute isn't too bad, I get my own office, and even an intern...

Just got promoted to Head Coach at my "other" job. Yes, I've been Head Coach at my regular job for some time, but at the "other" one I had to actually earn it.

I'm going to celebrate by eating a donut this morning.

Send me a bill, Drs

Had one of the most wicked dream I've ever had last night. I'm riding my bike (in my dream I'm race shape and fit) down Country Club Rd when I get hit from behind by a Camry.

Stay with me here.

My body is split cleanly in two, with a top half and bottom half. The POSS2 were laughing, but upside down in the trailer behind my bike. My bike ended up on the golf course, and two golfers were angry that we were on the course.

It took me longer than I wanted to drag myself to my legs, which then started kicking me as I approached. This took too long for the golfers, evidently, so they started hitting golf balls at the kids.

Reanie told them, "No. You stop it." Buddy kept picking up the balls and taking them back to the golfers who would then hit them back at us.

Meanwhile, I'm stressing out because my middle hurts, I need to get the kids back in the trailer, because I'm nervous about Noah, who was riding ahead of us, reaching the intersection of the highway by himself.

So, I get everything upright, but I'm having trouble hammering to catch him because my alignment of upper and lower body keeps coming askew. We do finally catch Noah, who is at the coffee shop near the intersectionn of Country Club and 377. He's on his cell phone with Mama, and she asked if we'd stop and get milk and tampons if it wasnt' too much trouble.

After going to the store and getting an earful from the manager about me getting the floor bloody, Noah and I raced home. He beat me, but it had more to do with me having to go gentle around the corners so Reanie and Buddy wouldn't spill their cappuccinos.

Then Reanie kicked me in the stomach (really) and I woke up to see that the alarm was about to go off, and that was it.


Well, I think I have a little better understanding of why I haven't been riding even though I'm healed up. I've felt safe on the track. I even felt safe in the craziness of the start of the Aledo race, even as I locked it up behind a crash. Felt safe riding with Glen. But I just can't go out by myself and ride.

Whew!

The last time I raced a road bike was on September 12, 2004...until today. It wasn't pretty, but I finished. Because so many people quit, my placing might even look decent on a resumé. I also doubled the mileage on the odometer of my cycling computer with this ride. I'm going to celebrate by eating a carrot cake.

Is two years long enough to master a language?

I'm taking the POSS2 to school. We're sitting at a stop light when a truck pulling a boat rolls up along side us. I look over and say, "Look, Buddy...a boat!" He doesn't look up, but still says (with a beaner accent, no less), "No. It's a ship."

"No, Buddy, that's a boat." And I wonder why he'd start in with this and be confused with boats and ships. In the few seconds that I contemplated it, I figured it had something to do with the barge he saw in TN (pictured below a couple days ago).

Then he says, "Ship...baaah aaahhhahh."

There's probably special classes for him or me, right?

Wean Yourself From This, ROFM

Baylor University had a pretty darn good year in 1980. The undefeated Southwest Conference Champions handed tu a shutout which hasn't been done to them since (I believe). They jumped all over Texas A&M at Kyle Field (that was a rainy day, wasn't it?). And they bounced back after a tough week to throttle Arkansas on national TV...good times.

ROFM was a lineman. An all guts, no glory type of guy. A team player to the core.



Coach Grant Teaff said of that team, "They had good leadership, cohesiveness and a chemistry that bound them all together." From experience, I can tell you that ROFM definitely learned something from his days at Baylor. And if Coach Teaff had access to the inner-workings of GSTz, he'd recognize that the efforts of that cycling team have the same team member doing the grunt work that Coach Teaff had blocking for Walter Abercrombie (Baylor's all-time leading rusher) and Dennis Gentry (won a Superbowl with the Chicago Bears).

Us 'zingers are lucky to have him around. Now, group hug in the showers!

About Being Buddy

Can't sneak a barge passed Kid #3



Hey, I'm going to go get it, OK?


OK, But I'm going to play with this stick.


Ciao.


Any of you know how to get to the boat?


I can be Captain...


Hey!


Maybe next time.

We Went to Apple Granny's for the Weekend

Kids #1,2 and 3 on the way to
the river.


Here are Kids #1, 2 and 3 playing on the bank
of the Tennessee River.

Eventually

Awhile back I pounded keys about the goats nearby. We drive by each morning, and every morning Reanie says, "Goats," and then Buddy will say, "Sheep! Baaaah." Reanie then says, "No, Buddy. They're goats." Buddy says, "Sheep! Baaaah." Repeat until the biggest person in the car changes the subject or says, "ENOUGH!"

We drove by the goats this morning, and Reanie said, "Goats." Buddy said, "Sheep! Baaah." Reanie said, "No, Buddy. They're goats." Buddy then said, "Goats."

Then it was quiet in the Jeep.

I said, "That's right, Buddy! They're goats!" He then said, "Goats!" I said, "Yes! They're goats! Good job!" He then said, "Goats!" I replied, "Now you've got it. They're goats" He then said, "Goats!" And Reanie jumped in a time or two to say, "Goats. Neheyehey." And Buddy would say, "Goats." This went on for some time, but he kept saying "Goats."

Sometimes us guys are slow learners. But once we got it, we got it.

Without Lollipoppage

We have a team chatroom/forum thing where we are supposed to talk about upcoming training rides, races, and stuff related to the team. What we really do, however, is make fun of each other for sport.

Periodically the site will be difficult to access. This is usually when JD is in Mexico, Europe, the Caribbean, or passed out on the floor of some dorm room.

Since I don't have medication for it, I treat my OCD by visiting our team's vitrual locker room, TXBRA, and CNN in rapid succession after doing some work task. It is my 5 minute smoke break or whatever.

Anyway, TXBRA has been revamped and will be eerily quiet for awhile as people try to figure out whether they can still post anonymously without the folks behind the curtain noticing (yes...it is still easy to tell how many different names you use on there), but what got me to writing about it is that I can't get my lollipop fix because our team site is down (or because I've been blocked, again).

OK, this post took about as much time as I would have spent looking at those sites. Back to work.

When Daveed Gets Back, We're Going On a Date

Saw on the news last night that Plano's walmart is the only one in the country to have a sushi bar.

Mustard Pears

Mama and I watched Sideways last night. The setting of the movie is the California Wine Country, which is probably why we were uncorking bottles at a rapid rate for two people.

At some point through the movie, Mama asked me if I wanted a snack. "Sure, what are you going to make?" was my response. "I dunno. I'll suprise you," she said.

When she came back, there was some sort of nice bread with some sort of froo froo cheese on it, there was a different bread with Nutella, and then there was...sliced pears slathered with some sort of fancy chipotle mustard that Belz brought us.

I rolled my eyes and made a face. Mustard on pears? She said I didn't have to eat it, but after thinking about all of the things that could possibly go wrong from trying it, I concluded that "bleech!" was the worst it would be.

And I liked it.

Where does it come from?

To show my solidarity with my brother 'zingers who are racing in Lago Vista this weekend, I went and rode my bike. I even used the Powertap, so it counts as a training ride. I stepped on the scale this morning and read 197lbs, so it is probably time to get on with this anyway.

During the ride, I coughed and spit and blew snot at a fairly fantastic rate and volume. Some of those must have been quarter pounders. If I get rid of all of this snot, I'll probably weigh around 150lbs.

Take it to the boards

This is a shot of Noah's last track workout on
Tuesday. Tonight is the opening night of racing
for the season but Noah is a little under the
weather. He's also raced quite a bit in the last
few weeks. We'll see how he's doing after school
today.



This is Buddy at the track on Tuesday.



And this is Reanie.

Fortunately, both Reanie and Buddy enjoy
hanging out at the track while Noah rides. This
time I even brought one of the tricycles so they
could ride too.

Ornery

Me, "Let's sing the ABC's!"
Kid #2, "No, Daddy. We're not singing that. The ABC's are broken."

a couple minutes later...

Kid #3, "More chicken nugget(s)"
Me, "They're all gone. You ate them all."
Kid #3, "Unngggg. Ptbtbhblthtbpllth."