Gorman's Garage

BMW MOA Rally by RevZilla.com

2011-10-24T18:10:00.000-07:00

RevZilla, a promoter of the BMW MOA Rally held in Bloomsburg, Pa. They're holding a contest at Revzilla.com and want to know what touring and adventure riding mean to me.

There is no better way to see the countryside than by motorcycle. And it's even better when you see it from vistas and hill tops that the general public would never venture to. Adventure and touring on rutted out dirt roads to cow paths and goat trails that crisscross the nation is where I enjoy riding. For more information go to http://bmwmoarally.com/motorcycle-adventure-blog-contest and to www.RevZilla.com.

2011-07-12T21:18:00.000-07:00

Multistrada 1200 S Pikes Peak Edition, Bike No. 150

I’d been in the garage soldering the wires back together that had succumbed to winter’s fury, aka, road salt. I was hot and cranky so I went down the basement to relax where it was cool. My butt no more than hit the couch when the phone rang, the voice from the other side told me to get my butt out side. It was my good friend, Dr. Carl Peshoff of Northern Ohio Ducati in Akron Ohio. I went out and to my surprise sat a brand spanking new Ducati Multistrada 1200S Pikes Peak Edition with a whopping 32 miles on it!

The bike is beautiful with plenty of carbon fiber pieces including the carbon fiber cam belt cover complete with air duct to help keep the beast cool and a mini carbon wind screen that that has about 4” of vertical adjustment. The fenders were also made from carbon fiber. I liked that the turn signals are incorporated into the hand guards. It makes the bike a little more stream lined and removes one less piece to get ripped off the bike in a mishap. I doubt too many of these bikes will be seeing heavy brush, saplings or tree bark, so I’m sure they’ll hold up better than fairing mounted signals.

I was given a quick overview of key-less ignition and the controls for the suspension and engine modes. There are 4 engine modes; sport, touring, urban and enduro that can be changed on the fly using the button located on the turn signal switch. There is also a selection of suspension settings to chose from depending on whether you are riding solo, 2 up or if you are carrying luggage or not. There are also a multitude of other screens and displays that show you gear selection, typical engine displays, gas mileage, miles until empty and more. Once I thought I had everything covered, I hit the starter and heard the v-twin rumble to life, flipped down the visor and headed down the road.

Fast! - I only had to go to the end of my one block long street to know, this bike was going to be a blast to ride! The bike's weight is claimed to be 432 lbs, 40 lbs less than my 950 Adventure but felt even lighter. Add the fact the motor has about 150 hp, 55 hp more than my 950 and you can only guess how fast this thing scoots down the road, and that was with me respecting rpm’s during the break in period. With its 5.3 gallon tank and approximately 50mpg freeway rating, you should be able to get a good 4 hours in between fuel stops.

I was wondering what it would be like to ride with 150 hp in the dirt and gravel on a bike with the instantaneous throttle response this bike has and could see myself launching the bike into a ditch or worse yet, a tree. I refrained from taking the Multistrada down my "short cut” Because I didn‘t want to be the one to put the first scratch on it or get it dirty. I changed the engine mode to “Enduro” on the fly and immediately I could tell the bike would be far more dirt friendly using the Enduro Mode. According to Carl, Enduro Mode reduces the horse power down to around 100 hp, a hair bit more than the 950’s 94 hp. It may have reduced the power output but I also noticed the initial throttle opening became a bit smoother which should allow a little better throttle control riding off-road or in loose gravel. In Enduro Mode, the bike is still quick but in sport mode, the bike is a rocket.

The engine seems smooth enough to ride all day without being buzzed or vibrated to death but a test ride longer than 20 miles would help me decide that. We didn’t get to do a 2-up test to get Mrs. G's opinion of the saddle but I found it to be pretty comfortable even though I only got to ride it 20 miles. There is more than enough power to haul 2 adults with full saddle bags comfortably down any freeway or back road. The ergonomics didn't feel too bad even with the bars rotated back to fit Carl, but that's something anyone can easily fix with a wrench. Unlike the other bike adventure touring bikes, the Pikes Peak edition has a smallish wind screen aimed more at protecting the instrument panel and taking a small portion of the wind blast from your torso rather than trying to protect your whole body. In some ways that is good as the larger wind screens can be intimidating as a guillotine when riding in technical terrain but a little cold if you ride all winter.

The day before Carl showed up, I was out playing around at the local MX track on the 640 Adventure and I had been wishing for more braking power. The Multistrada's Bosch-Brembo ABS system's dual 4-piston calipers and 320mm discs gave me all the braking power I could handle and I'm positive there is enough to spare for hauling down a loaded bike from speed. Along with the ABS, this Ducati also has Traction Control as standard equipment. Since I tried to ride the bike respectfully, I never felt either system activate and thankfully not the ABS.

I’m used to hydraulic clutches and the juicy clutch on the Ducati felt right at home in my hands. The clutch is effortless and smooth but the transmission felt a bit notchy, more than likely due to being new and not fully broken in. It also could have been the shifter being tipped down to fit Carl , but I had a little difficulty getting my foot under it. However, the shift shaft has plenty of splines and the adjustable linkage will allow you to fine tune it to your foot. All it will take is a few minutes of time and a couple wrenches to make it perfect.

The Ducati Electronic Suspension (DES) by Öhlins is pretty sophisticated compared to what I am used to. One of the things you will notice is the wiring coming from the tops of the fork tubes that control the suspension settings for compression and rebound. The rear shock is also controlled by the same system however it also has an electronically controlled pre-load adjuster. The ride was firm even though I had the suspension set up for one person with no luggage. The initial stroke of the suspension was a bit harsh and my guess would be as the seals and bushings break in, the stroke will loosen up to a plusher ride. With the lack of a passenger and time, I didn’t get to mess with the factory pre-set settings for the rider and luggage combos I mentioned earlier or did I have time to figure out how to set the optional personalized settings to my riding style or weight which are slow and heavy by some standards.

Along with the firm suspension comes a very flickable and light handling bike. Of the adventure bikes I have ridden in the past, the Multistrada by far turned the easiest. It also had the most streetable tires (both 17") that looked like they’d be more at home on a Monster than an Adventure bike. Speaking of tires, I also noticed there is more room between the rear tire and the single-sided swingarm than I remember there being when I rode my 1^st Multistrada. I remembered thinking how easily that area would get clogged with mud and debris, however this model has about 1.5” between the tire and the swingarm. I’m not sure if the swingarm changed but the tire sizes are different or it could be my mind is feeling the effects of old age, either way, having more clearance is better if you plan to get this beast dirty.

Ducati claims this bike to be "A dream Ducati - 4 bikes in 1. A sport bike, long-distance tourer, urban and road enduro are only one click away." I can easily see this bike being ridden all four environments as Ducati intended it to be ridden in but if I were going to be doing the long distance touring, I may want to find a way to put the windscreen from one of the other Multistrada models on the bike just for the longer trips. As far as the "road enduro" goes, I'm not sure how adventurous you'll want to get during any off-pavement excursions with the front exhaust header hanging down and in harms way. I think it will more than likely take quite a beating but I'm sure someone will build an aftermarket skid plate to help protect it.

The bike was a blast to ride and the Pikes Peak model is definitely aimed at the high performance sport riding end of the scale. The bike feels the more like an adventurous sport bike or a big supermoto than the adventure bikes I've ridden. There are 4 Flavors of the Multistrada to choose from starting with the standard 1200, the 1200 S Sport, 1200 S Touring and the 1200 S Pikes Peak. Learn more about the Multistrada line here or go to Northern Ohio Ducati and Triumph at 1915 Brittain Rd, Akron, Ohio 44310

Bad timing

2011-06-19T18:20:00.000-07:00

Wanted so bad to ride a long ride on the 950 or 640 to Wayne or Allegheny National Forests but decided to give Makayla a ride to Camp then maybe hit some back roads to lunch someplace on one of the beasts.

On the way home, phone call: "Can you help me fix my bike"?, yeah, be there by 2pm. Once home, a second call from a team mate, "Can you help me fix my bike"?, yeah, be there by 2pm. Person 1 makes it there by 2pm, 2nd person tales til after 3pm and the job took 3 times longer than expected but at least I found his freehub had come totally unfastened from the hub.

Finally we get to ride around 4:30 instead of 2:00 and head off towards Charm, Ohio. 5 miles away, RAIN! Change of plans, turn north and head to a closer place of putting on the feed bag.

Well it happened again, the 2nd time in as mant weeks, the mighty 950 died roadside. Riding up the road 2 miles away, the bike just shut off like the key was stolen. Check all the fuses, still good, shirt the battery, still good. Try unplugging the relay, hear a "click". Bike lights come on but go right back out. Can't keep them on so I call for help. Dicking around waiting, find corroded wire at coupler. Falls apart in hand, focking road salt!! Neighbor pulls up with van from heating and cooling job on his way home from call and has spare wire, slice things up and Varoom! Call back my tow home and cancel.

Luckily it was just something simple, luckily it didn't happen in or on the way to WNF where I had planned to go.

Today's Time trial really sucked. My 1st outing on the single speed resulted in major pain and a total muscular bonk finishing 4th in age group. While changing bikes, refreshing drinks and getting a gel for outing 2 in the 2 man team event, I hear "Gorman, your start time is up"! Billy Slutz and I make it to the line with 3 seconds to spare. We're off, like a heard of turtles suffering as much as before. I figured we'd either be the only team or totally blow up. We did come close to blowing but eeked out a win over 2 other teams.

Mohican 100.7 - 6/4/2011

2011-06-06T20:35:00.000-07:00

This was my 7th attempt at the Mohican 100, twice on a Trek Fuel 100 with gears in the 100k ('05-'06), twice on the Gary Fisher Rig single speed in the 100k ('07-'09) and twice DNF the 100 mile on single speed, once from going out too fast ('08) and the 2nd (last year '10) from back and leg pain. This time I was back to the 100k because over the winter I had my L5 fused to my S1 with a chunk of Donor bone, 4 lag bolts and a couple chunks of Titanium rod. Basically, I had my butt bolted to my back and adding to the Ti collection in my knee and foot and my fitness sucked.

All I've been doing is riding with the occasional dedicated workout with the Eastern Block guys. I was pretty much doubtful I'd have a good day, figuring I'd sit around at aide stations resting to make it the full distance. There was no way I was going to quit unless my bike totally failed or I crashed my brains out (known to have happened a time or two).

In typical Mohican style, the start was straight up the biggest hill in town, a smaller version of the stair case hills of San Francisco, with a $100 prime at the top. This year Mr. O'Dell decided to split the fields giving the 100 milers a 15 minute head start which meant us 100k folks had to fight our way past all the guys and gals that were just there for the challenge and not "in it to win it" which truly is a challenge.

As soon as the siren blew, I never saw so many people with no chance to win a prime ride so hard. Usually I can be in the top 25 or 30 over the top of the hill but this time I was bottom 25 or 30 at the bottom of the hill! Panic started to set in knowing from past experiences, passing in the 1st 20 miles is very hectic and frustrating. As luck would have it, all the speedsters caught up in the moment of the start all went backwards up the hill. I was weaving in and out of riders so fast, I'd swore they were walking which filled me with a fear of going to hard. At one point I could hear Tim screaming incoherent gibberish and lots of heavy breathing. By the mid-point of the hill, I'd passed about 50% of those in front of me and by the top I think I had made up another 25%. One match burned...

One thing hasn't changed, mountain bikers need to do some dirt bike racing. If I pass you because you are slower, don't get mad at me, learn to ride technical trails faster! BTW, what the heck is a "%#@* Dickerhoof"? That's what some guy called me when I went over a boulder between him and a tree leaving him plenty of room. If you leave a gap open between you and the next guy, I will feel obligated to fill it. For the most part though, when asked, everyone moved over. I'd let them pick the spot then jump.

I caught Chris Huck and a congo line between the top of 7 mile hill and the descent to the covered bridge. Some guy was in the back complaining about the pace which wasn't bad at all. Same said guy pulled off the road after the covered bridge and just stopped. It looked like he was in no hurry to fix or do anything so maybe the pace was too fast for him?

Mt Doom, everyone hates that climb from the covered bridge to the fire tower but me. I don't know why I climb that thing so well. Maybe because it requires you to be in the red longer than normal like in time trials. In the past, the only person I couldn't out run up that section of trail was John Lorson. This was about the time my bike started to get really annoying as it creaked and moaned in protest of carrying my 200lb carcass up the hill. Caught and passed lots of guys and gals up this hill and that is when I met up with this fast chick just as we crested the very top at aide station 1.

The fast single track was up next and this is where I was introduced to my new friend Michelle Peariso from Wisconsin whom I followed over the top. She asked me if I knew the trails and when I said "yes", she informed me she was "sticking to me"! I did my best to make sure nothing snuck up on her knowing she probably couldn't see around all the donuts I ate this past winter. She was doing a good job at it but as Keith says, "nothing goes downhill faster than a middle aged white man" and that was the only time I was able to get any distance on her. Any other time she'd pedal her way back to me. Once the hill top rock garden started around mile 25, I didn't see her for a while. Then at the trail crossing after the big hike-a-bike, all I heard was Tim screaming incoherent gibberish again as he was waiting to cross. Timmy, remove that word from your vocabulary!!

Once out on the roads to trail section 2, I just spun my brains out like in years past. I'd pass people up the hills, try to draft those I caught as far as I could down them and out onto the flats. I did poach a few pulls from passing riders, one of which I think was Jason Fischer from Wadsworth, Ohio. He and I passed and re-passed each other throughout this transfer section. About a mile or so before "Big Hill Rd", Michelle came motoring by me way faster than I care to mention! I tried to jump on but it was futile, my gearing only allows a 16-17mph max at high rpm and she was on a mission. I caught back up to her at the top just before going into the wilderness trails and all was going well until I fubarred and dabbed on the downside of the trail and almost sent myself on a roller coaster ride to some serious pain. Michelle was smarter, she dabbed and fell to the up-side of the hill! She was ok so I motored on.

I'd blown through Aides 1 & 2 and by the time I reached 3, I had been dry for about a half hour so stopping was a must. My lack of paying attention caught up to me here. The lady said she had water so I filled up my bottle and another gent filled my camel back allowing me to gulp down a couple cups of coke. Michelle, who had stopped at Aide 2, came blowing by onto the next transfer section as I was mounting up. As I cruising along I knew (thought) I had enough in the camel back to get me home so I dumped half the water over my head and down my back. After my nice walk up part of Valley Stream Hill, I noticed a faint odor of vanilla, or so I thought. A quick sniff to my jersey confirmed the odor was indeed from me and not something in the air. The light goes on, I take a swig from my bottle, HEED! I'd dumped a half bottle of Heed sports drink all over me, what a 'tard! What the hell, it felt good so I took another swig and showered in what was left.

I could see Michelle up ahead but all I could do was watch her pull away. I couldn't spin any faster so I concentrated on keeping the next guy behind me. This section of road was lonely, hadn't seen a soul except Michelle since the aide station and all I could do was sit, spin and listen to my bike cry out in pain like a spoiled brat at walmart (Ohio's red neck embassy). I knew something was wrong but couldn't figure out just what "it"** was. We hit another short section of trail, a short road section, past Aide 5 then into the State Park for the finally in the camp ground. I caught up to Michelle about half way through the final section and just settled in to her pace.

I knew there was no time left to catch anyone, I was tired, and yes, out of fluids, again. I'm sure in hind sight, that Heed would have been better served inside me and not on me. I think at this point I told her she was on a very fast pace and more than likely had the over all. We were only 15-20 minutes behind my fastest times from previous years when I finished in the top 5 overall. She wouldn't let relax and I didn't really want to go any faster so she pulled over and forced me up front claiming she was slowing me down. (only if I were on my KTM) If it hadn't been for her being bait, I'd probably still be out on that last section of road some place putzing merrily along. I gave her one last warning about a bad sign* before she cramped up and slowed a bit.

I did pass one last guy who was totally cramped up and in pain as we entered the camp grounds then almost caught 2 others but they were all on geared bikes so I didn't matter much. I ended up finishing 4th Single Speed, well down in the overall. I was satisfied with that because my back never became an issue the whole race.

Congrats to all the Orrville and Soup Can racers, Gilmore for his 2nd full 100 miler, Julie Lewis for beating half the men's single speeders, Jason Supan for a great 100 miler and Lorson for once again kicking my ass.

If you ever get to ride or race in Wisconsin, please look up Team adventure 212 or visit their Adventure 212 blog. I spent some time with Michelle, her Husband Chris and their friends/team mates after the race and they are great down to earth people. I wish the both of them a successful 2011 season.

*Bad sign - This sign took out both my team mate Joe Lautzenhiser and the woman who was running 2nd over-all. Someone said it was vandals who moved it but I truly believe that the sign was never replaced and was still there from the start to direct you to the state park trail. Those who didn't know the area, didn't know that the sign caused them to repeat the loop.

**Wounded warrior - Stripped the bike down to her nakedness after I found out she had a fracture in her right rear leg. By races end, there was only about 5mm of aluminum and the chain holding the chain stay on. Loaded her up in the dead wagon hauled her away to be recycled into a beer keg.

Feeling Deflated

2011-04-23T17:18:00.000-07:00

Tried to get a nice pedal ride in with the touring club SCBC but at mile 7, I flatted, fixed and then we chased and at mile 14, I flatted again. I fixed and started chasing again and I joked about getting one every 7 miles and not enough tubes and CO2 to get me home.

We caught and passed a few stragglers when I jumped onto the rear bumper of a truck to see how far I could ride the draft out. Unfotunately the front wheel started sliding around and guess what, it was mile 21, I was flatting for the 3rd time.

Called the wife and said come get me, I'll be limping home on a half flat tire as far as I could. The group turned to continue so I started hammering along watching the tire get lower and lower and about 4 miles down the road I hit a rock and popped yet another hole in the front tire and ended my ride when what air was left rushed out instantly.

About 3 seconds after hitting the rock I hear "You know how long I have been chasing you?" I look back and it is our club president (OCC). He had been chasing us since we turned onto the road but didn't see the others turn. We BS'd about club business (I'm the VP) than the familiar FOrd Fusion of TGorman pulled up.

Then I get this email...

Amazing, after turning west, I too had three flats, and called the boss to pick me up in her Fusion...I was 3 mi from home with no more tubes & no more CO2. If it weren't for the cleats I could have walked home.

Tim.

Must be the aliens

2011 Triumph Tiger 800XC

2011-04-10T20:04:00.000-07:00

I received the honors of getting to ride a brand spanking new 2011 Triumph Tiger 800XC from Northern Ohio Ducati and Triumph this afternoon. I'm a dirt rider and pretty much use the pavement to get to and from work and the dirt trails so my opinion of this bike has no comparisons to pure street bikes as the only pure street bike I have is an 1100 Honda Aero that handles like a boat full of bowling balls and is only a few inches shorter than my F-150. The rest of the fleet are Dual Sports and Cross Country Off-road.

Unless it's some Kymquat made in Tiwang Chung, I don't care what kind of bike it is, I'll take it for a spin. Ask me if I want to ride a sweet bike like the Tiger XC and there's a good chance you'll be waiting quite a while for me to return. When I got a phone call telling me there was a new Triumph Tiger sitting in front of my house waiting for me to ride it, I couldn't get out of there fast enough to see if it what I had just heard was true. Heck, it's not every day someone drops off a bike with only 40 miles on it on your door step!

The bike has a nice fit and feel even though the seat was set at the lowest of the two settings and the bars pulled back for a shorter person. The seat can be raised by simply using the key to remove it and moving the attaching bar on the seat from one slot to the next. The first thing I noticed was how quiet and smooth the 3 cylinder motor was as I looked through the crystal clear wind screen that gives you a good view of the road. The second was how torquey that motor is when you let out the featherly light clutch lever.

The motor pulls nicely though the gears all the way to sixth and it was nice to see your gear selection printed out on the dash as well as the fuel level. The motor has a 10k rpm redline and even when I took Turra with me on the 2nd loop, I never had the need to go over 4k rpm as we accelerated to cruising speed. Right from the start, I felt comfortable with how the bike felt and handled both at low and highway speeds.

I included a few bad roads with twists and turns just to see how the suspension felt and from a preliminary ride, it felt really good. Being new, and my pocketbook not all the padded, I decided not to take it down the local abandoned rail bed I usually cruise down on my own bikes. After almost looping a brand spanking new 350SX out over a double last fall, the last thing I wanted to do was return the bike beaten or broken. When I hit the freeway to do all four loops of the clover leaf I spotted what appeared to be a dual sport bike with some big panniers on it so I chased it down. It was a waste of time, it was just a Buell.

I found the front brake to be very strong when I did a panic stop to make a turn I missed. When I did dive into the turn, I was glad the 21" front tire gripped the road very well. BTW, I like 21" front wheels, there is a wider selection of true off-road tires available compared to other sizes. I'm no knee dragger so I have no need for some fat squatty tire.

I only had time for a couple more miles to take the wife for a ride so she could see how the rear seat felt. She found it to be comfortable and offered more real estate than the current crop of bikes we have. In fact, the rear seat is separate from the front allowing you to remove it and replace it with a rack if you are riding solo and need it for your camping gear, don't have anyone who trusts you enough to ride with you, or just prefer to be by your self all the time. Speaking of the seat(s), the front saddle covers the battery, relays and the fuse box. The rear covers the tool kit and leaves a little space to lock your wallet, spare gloves or any other small items you can fit into the small area.

The motor looks to be pretty much out in the open and easy to service for oil changes. And, depending on how deep the spark plugs are into the head and valve covers, you may be able to replace them without removing the tank but I doubt it.

Would I buy one? If I had the money and was in the market for a new bike, there'd be a good chance I would. There wasn't anything about the bike I didn't like except the shifter felt notchy but it only had 40 miles on it so that isn't even really fair since it isn't broken in.

A big thank you to Carl and Carl at Northern Ohio Ducati and Triumph for the test ride. Now I just need to wait for a chance to ride it all day, say maybe at the Cabin Fever Road Enduro next Sunday?

PRODUCTIVITY COMES TO STANDSTILL IN OHIO

2010-07-09T19:51:00.000-07:00

ENOUGH PEOPLE!!! The dude is a basketball player in a game that only requires one ball!! All day productivity has come to a standstill across the state as armchair pros and damsels in distress debate and discuss the latest debacle because some dude is doing the same thing you would, looking for a better deal. You act like life can't possibly go on with out a player. Every TV at the restaurant today had people who call themselves annalist or reporters making a big deal out of some over paid athlete who drives up ticket prices because he demands more money. People vandalizing, burning and crying like they lost their 1st born.

WAAHHHH!! Get over it already. Put that much emotion and energy into your job and community and see how much better life can be.

This makes Tiger Woods look like a Patron Saint. But then again, most of those guys probably would have patted him on the back with a big ole "thatta boy" wishing it was them with the money and savoir faire to entertain Tigers harem.

Lessons in listening

2010-05-23T21:58:00.000-07:00

I was exhausted from my 95 mile rain soaked hill ride Saturday so I planned to just ride the KTM950 all day Sunday or part of the day and the rest on the 250. My friend Paul wanted to ride off road on his Suzuki DL650 V-Strom, a generic dual sprt bike made to spen 95% of it's life on public highways, paved or gravel. He begged to do hard stuff, I was going to let him put around Wayne for a bit but Nooo, he didn't want to go off-road, he wanted to ride with his road buddies 1st then do something closer. We left Gulliver's Travel's stuffed full of trucker food and headed south with his road buddies looping around until we landed in Coshocton for a rendezvous with Allen and anyone else who may have shown up.

Speaking of his road buddies, they were a bit over enthusiastic, passing on double yellows all morning forcing the rest to do the same or get left behind. I found it to be a bit nerve racking, especially carving corners on D908 knobbies.

A few of us continued on to play in the dirt, Allen (DR650) Paul (DL650 V strom) and Jim (800GS). One guy HAD a nearly new V-strom. It was new until he dropped it half way down Quarry Rd and snapped off the end of the brake lever and broke the front turn signal. Luckily he had crash bars. Somewhere down the hill I whacked the right tank guard on the 950 pretty hard. Enough parts moved that it cracked the header. I couldn't feel or see the leak, but I could hear it. At the bottom the Jim on the GS800 (pretty new also) tried to submerge the beast in the creek at the bottom.

Then we were on an abandoned rail bed. It was a nice cruise until we crossed a paved highway where Whitey took his cigarette break a couple summers ago when we were helping a few rookies climb up to the road. I looked down in the now overgrown ravine and proclaimed it didn't look that bad so I dove in head first. A hundred yards in and there is no Paul or Jim, Just Allan. Allen said they were taking turn dropping their bikes. By the time I got back, Jim was over but Paul failed to negotiate a small 5" sapling and once again, tossed his Strom on the ground (in honor of Meef?). Got him going only to find out someone did a fine job of barricading the trail with big timber and we had to turn around (Sorry Guys).

At this point we found out Paul had now lost his left turn signal also and snapped off the tip of his shifter. While scouting a possible out we also noted his bike had twisted the sub-frame strut where the left passenger peg used to sit relatively level. It ain't level no more, the V-strom was no longer new, it now officially used

When I got home I pulled the right tank off to inspect the header. It didn't feel right and when I pulled the heat wrapping off from the previous owner I found a lot of rotten metal and it basically fell apart on the floor. The wrap had held it together for about 2 hours.

The hole had been on the bottom where I couldn't feel and like a plasma cutter, torched a hole in the plastic side of the skid plate and melted the top cover of the relay switch for the starter to the starter fuse. When I pulled the cover, the fuse came with it.

I am lucky though, could have been the gas tank I am lucky also in the fact I was worried about what was under the heat wrap so I bought a new header on Advrider for $35 about 1 month ago. KTM price $243.00!! Thank God I am a hoarder!!!

Heading to Summit Racing tomorrow morning to get new heat-shield for the tank, no more of that heat wrap crap.

Adventure in Overkill

2010-05-18T21:45:00.000-07:00

Friday the 14th we went up to the unveiling of the new Ducati Multistrada in Akron presented by Northern Ohio Ducati. The bike is pretty cool and I wanted to test it so I signed up for the last slot the next day.

Saturday I headed out with Turra to do a 30 mile bike ride, then garage sale-ing and then lunch. Then I hopped on the 640 and headed out trail riding down at Battlesburg MX park. After a few hours I headed north to a friends house who was riding up to the demo with me. I used his garden hose to wash off my pants and we air dried them on the way up. After the demo ride we headed south to meet the girls for dinner at the local steakhouse. I was so tired I could barely stay awake for dinner.

Sunday we headed north to Brecksville. Friends said I had to go back since I won the last edition by soloing 30 of the 30 miles. Brecksville has no flat sections at all except for the inclined planes. I sat in for a lap and then it all went to hell, like a farm dog, someone jumped so I chased. It ended up being the winning move but I had left the winning legs at home with Saturdays calendar of events. I won $20 for 6th place woo-hoo!

Afterwards Drew Bercaw and I set out on a supposedly 40 mile ride. Supposedly because that was by the regular highway but I knew a shortcut, well, so I thought. 50 miles later we rolled into the Blue Heron Deli where our team cars were waiting to feed our starving tired butts.

We made it home just in time to watch the Tour of California where I promptly missed most of it because of eyelid failure. I think I am getting too old for those types of weekends...

Easier said than done.

2010-05-10T20:55:00.000-07:00

On the 8th the Salem motorcycle club had a make up race at Big Valley. I wanted to go but I wanted to be different so I loaded up the 640 with tools, tubes and fix-a-flat and headed to the race, on the 640.

Upon arrival we took off the tail bag, GPS and my back pack and stored them in George's Truck and signed up. Lots of strange stares when I pulled up to the line on a bike with a fairing. Yes, the 640 Adventure has fairing, it is an adventure/touring bike used in Rally Races. The race started and I let the field roll off and I took chase only to find out a 640 can really haul the mail in the dirt and as turn 2 came up, I found that a 350 pound bike with 5 gallons of gas added on doesn't exactly stop like my 250. Luckily no one was run over when I blew the turn and tried to relocate the banners to the far side of the spectators.

I also found out that the suspension, that had been revalved for a 140 pound vertically challenged person didn't fair too well with my 200 pound J-Lo booty squashing it like a roach. Whoop after whoop, logs, rocks, washouts, all sent signals to my wrists and but cheeks that the valving was way too soft or I needed to go on a diet!!

I did pass quite a few people and quite a few passed me back but after about 90 minutes of the 2 hour event the noodles I used to call arms lost their starch and went limp, I couldn't hold on any longer and not only was my life in danger, so was anything still standing that go in my way including trees, people, bikes and woodland creatures of all sizes. The bike was a beast on that tight twisty course.

I pulled off and waited for George to come out of the woods and while I was chatting with a couple guys who had hedged bets against me finishing, I stepped into a low spot and dumped the bike right there in front of everyone just so they could be entertained and get the monies worth on the day. Thankfully they helped me pick the pig back up or it may still be laying there barring thieves.

I re-attached all my junk and headed home covered in mud. As on the way down, I decided to take some pictures for a photo scavenger hunt where you have to take pictures of certain objects with your bike. One place I stopped was the Spread Eagle Tavern in Hanoverton, Ohio. While I was photographing the historic building a gentleman baring fruit approached me and offered me something to eat. As he handed me the food he said; "Here, you look like you have been on the road for days and could use something to eat". All I could do was laugh and tell him I was just coming home from a race and was fine. I guess there are still some good people in the world. We chatted about the history of the area, I thanked him then headed straight to the Little Ceasers in Massillon then home. Pizza sounded way better than apples and oranges, they just don't compare...

Mutt and Jeff do Malabar

2010-03-27T18:47:00.000-07:00

John, Jason and I headed to Malabar this morning. Jason raced the 5 field finishing somewhere in the pack. John and I raced with the old dudes. 30 miles, 3 laps, 4 times up the hill, the finish line at the top.

About mile 7 it was obvious John was riding hard and the rest were sucking wheel. John says "let's break this thing up". I thought "are you nuts? we have 25 miles to go"! Wednesdays debacle of riding the single speed on the training ride left my legs dead. The last thing I wanted to do was attack in the head winds and get stuck out there by myself.

2nd time up the hill at mile 10 John and some other skinny dude slowly weeded my donut munching butt out the back. On the downhill I caught back on as we reached the base of a small climb. I had so much momentum I just rode around them hoping to draw out someone to race with. I looked back and no one flinched, %&#!

Up front Bob Grimm was hanging out the sun roof of his car snapping pictures and Turra was hanging out the side screaming and blowing a train whistle. Great, 19 miles to go and I'll have an audience when I blow up with digital evidence!

When I hit the Vally floor I looked back and didn't see anyone so off into the headwinds I went trying to maintain a steady pace hoping it was equal to or faster than the packs. The Grimm mobile had paused a while to take pics of the field then caught back up. Bob kept yelling numbers in my ear but I was breathing so hard, I couldn't hear exactly what he was yelling so I just kept pedaling. I caught and passed a few cat1-3 stragglers but no one wanted to play so I left them behind. My friend Pete couldn't either as his rear wheel was failing and dragging him down. At the base of the hill I was still clear and started up trying not to implode.

I've had bad luck at a race like this when I took a flyer and won. The guy at the finish didn't believe me that I had won. Luckily Tym Tyler knew I had taken the solo route and gave me my cash. At the top I made sure the score keeper knew I was in the masters so he wouldn't do the same thing.

I cleared the top with about 40 seconds on the pack but I still had 10 miles and no legs. Luckily Bob and Turra pulled off the course and decided to take pictures from the road side meaning there'd be no video of my impending implosion.

With about 7 miles to go I spotted a bunch of riders up ahead. One guy was as big as me, sweet!! a draft! I caught them on the Valley Floor and when I reached them, I kept going so that my rythm would stay afloat and they'd jump on. They didn't, %&#! A few moments later 2 of them passed by to give me a moments rest. That was all I got because as soon as they passed, they slowed forcing me to come back around. %&#! I kept my tempo and dropped them.

I hit the bottom of the hill and the only 2 I saw were those I had just left. Half way up the hill Chris Riccadi from the 1-3 field caught back up and re-passed me on the hill. I didn't care though, he was dropped and riding his own race. With the finish in sight there was no one behind me so I pulled my victory wheelie then pulled off the road and choked up half a lung!! I was so tired I was shaking and coughing until it hurt.

In the middle of my convulsive gagging for air, I heard everyone screaming. I looked up and saw John destroying what was left of the field. That was so cool for Orrville to take a 1-2 in our 1st attempt for 2010. Once again I go to a road race

We headed down to a Country Kitchen for a nice recovery meal of fried chicken and fish then headed home.

Thanks Bob and Ricky for the photos and chearing. Thanks Turra for the screaming and motivation.

2010-03-05T18:00:00.001-08:00

I saw this on another site...I had to steal it.

Haynes: Rotate anticlockwise.
Translation: Clamp with visegrips then beat repeatedly with hammer anticlockwise.

Haynes: This is a snug fit.
Translation: Clamp with visegrips then beat repeatedly with hammer.

Haynes: This is a tight fit.
Translation: Clamp with visegrips then beat repeatedly with a hammer.

Haynes: As described in Chapter 7...
Translation: That'll teach you not to read through before you start. Now you are looking at scary photos of the inside of a gearbox.

Haynes: Pry...
Translation: Hammer a screwdriver into...

Haynes: Undo...
Translation: Go buy a can of WD40 (giant economy size).

Haynes: Retain small spring...
Translation: PINGGGG - "Jesus, where the hell did that go?"

Haynes: Press and rotate to remove bulb...
Translation: OK - that's the glass bit off, now fetch some good pliers to dig out the bayonet part (and maybe a band-aid or two).

Haynes: Lightly...
Translation: Start off lightly and build up till the veins on your forehead are throbbing then clamp with visegrips then beat repeatedly with hammer.

Haynes: Weekly checks...
Translation: If it isn't broken don't fix it.

Haynes: Routine maintenance...
Translation: If it isn't broken, it's about to be. You were warned.

Haynes: One wrench rating.
Translation: An infant could do this... so how did you manage to **** it up?

Haynes: Two wrench rating.
Translation: Now you may think that you can do this because two is a low, teensy weensy number... but you also thought the wiring diagram was a map of the Tokyo underground (in fact that would have been more use to you).

Haynes: Three wrench rating.
Translation: Make sure you won't need your bike for a couple of days.

Haynes: Four wrench rating.
Translation: You're not seriously considering this are you?

Haynes: Five wrench rating.
Translation: OK - but don't ever carry your loved ones in it again.

Haynes: If not, you can fabricate your own special tool like this...
Translation: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Haynes: Compress...
Translation: Squeeze with all your might, jump up and down on it, throw it at the garage wall, then find some visegrips and a hammer...

Haynes: Inspect...
Translation: Squint at really hard and pretend you know what you are looking at, then declare in a loud knowing voice to your wife "Yep, as I thought, it's going to need a new one"

Haynes: Carefully...
Translation: You are about to suffer deep abrasions.

Haynes: Retaining nut...
Translation: Yes, that's it, that big spherical blob of rust.

Haynes: Get an assistant...
Translation: Prepare to humiliate yourself in front of someone you know.

Haynes: Turning the engine will be easier with the spark plugs removed.
Translation: However, starting the engine afterwards will be much harder. Once that sinking pit of your stomach feeling has subsided, you can start to feel deeply ashamed as you gingerly refit the spark plugs.

Haynes: Refitting is the reverse sequence to removal.
Translation: Yeah, right. But you swear in different places.

Haynes: Prise away plastic locating pegs...
Translation: Snap off...

Haynes: Using a suitable drift...
Translation: Clamp with visegrips then beat repeatedly with hammer.

Haynes: Everyday toolkit
Translation: Credit Card & Mobile Phone

Haynes: Apply moderate heat...
Translation: Unless you have a blast furnace, don't bother. Alternatively, clamp with visegrips then beat repeatedly with hammer.

Haynes: Index
Translation: Listing of all the things in the book, except what you need to do.

Riding in a winter wonderland

2010-02-28T18:37:00.000-08:00

What a weekend. Woke up Saturday to test out the ankle, or as my wife called it "Cankle" because it molded into my calf like some "large" peoples. It didn't actually hurt to pedal so I headed out on my Sugar Creek Amish loop. Once again a nice ride on snow covered an quite a bit of unplowed roads.

The 1st oddity was at the top of one climb where the plowing just stopped. The road was very narrow, barely wide enough to get a car down and drifts making it even slimmer. Seems like the land owner plowed himself out to the main road and left the neighbors to fend for themselves. The guy needs a wider blade! I crossed over the plow rubble and into the virgin snow dipping my feet into it on every pedal stroke. I came to where a couple cars had driven out the other end to the next main road but the compressed snow was harder to ride in than the fluff so I stayed in the middle.

Had a corgi start to chase me but his junk was dragging in the snow slowing him down and he gave up. Another dog took up chase on down the road but stopped about 10 yards from the road. Luckily he had a shock collar on, however after I passed, he took up chase again. Makes me wonder if his buttheaded master decided to turn the invisible fence off.

At one point I came to a T intersection and the road to the left was plowed better than any road I had ridden so I took it. That lasted 20 yards when I saw a sign that read "Private Drive". Go figure, another over achiever land owner making the Twp look inadequate. In a way I am glad they didn't plow or salt because when I did have to take a main road, I flatted, right in front of a house with dog warning sign and trespassing warnings in front along with fresh paw prints. Luckily Kujo was entertained elsewhere. Great, my pump is missing, probably lost it again but at least I had 3 co2's. oops, make that 2, the one in the inflater was used, time to head home.

Lots of weather changes along the route from sunshine to black skies to near white out conditions followed closely by horizontal sleet and rain. Four miles from home the headset starts to seize up and my bike became ill-handling in the cross winds until I stood up and realized my front tire was flat! I rode until the rim hit the ground and hit it with what was left in the inflator which lasted about a half mile. A quick repair got me home with a respectable amount of saddle time followed up with a recovery drive to Cici's all you can eat, scarf til you barf buffet.

Today started off much better, warm, sunny and I had the company of Joe, Steve and Tim. Those nice snow covered roads were now slush and mud. At one point Joe and Steve were racing up a climb in the pig slop. I felt like chasing so I gave it a try which thankfully didn't last long. Joe lost control and took them both down into the snow, no injuries but lots of laughs. Half way into the ride the sun went away and took the temps with it so we turned towards home.

I enjoyed today's ride and the company made it more fun than yesterday but yesterdays bad weather and frozen roads were fun in a whole different way.

Night at Ray's, Part 2

2010-02-25T18:21:00.000-08:00

Tim, Steve and myself headed north to meet Jon and Dom at Ray's for a night of riding. I saw a quote somewhere that stated "He who flies with balls skimming ground, not fall very far".   Because I want to get back into BMX for a little while I felt like going up to Ray's a few more times this winter would help me get my wings back.

I rented the same exact bike as the last time, a 21" Gary Fisher Mullet. The crank was still bent but the layout feels neutral and fits me well. The hard part isn't jumping as much as getting your timing down and last night my timing was so far off we weren't even in the same zip code. My balance was in another county and I was getting frustrated so I headed over to the BMX style track leaving the pole riding to someone else to fall off.   It took a half dozen runs around the track along with a few runs down the expert stunt sections to get comfortable again and I started to raise the pace in an attempt to actually get a little more air under my tires.

My friend Jon was smoking me through the initials turns which are critical to helping you get a good launch off the jumps. The harder I pushed the Gary Fisher Mullet the worse thing became. The tires were full knobbies unlike Jons tires that were a fine road tread that hooked up well on the plywood track. Every time I pushed hard the tires would try to roll of the rims so I put more air in. All that did was cause the over inflated tires to lose grip on the plywood. When I did have grip, there was enough flex to allow both tires to grind on the frame and fork.

The one thing about Ray's is the spectator friendliness off the place as all the dividers are only about 36" between the sections. It allows you to see who coming where trails merge and keeps the place feeling open. It didn't take long before things got out of hand and after pushing the envelope too many times, the seam tore along with the possibility of a few ligaments and tendons. In the very 1st turn of that particular track I pushed hard enough to drift all the way to the wall.

Not only did I make it too the wall, I tried to move it out of the way with my body. First the tire hit, then the lower fork leg followed by my leg then a few other parts of my torso. I found it very difficult to steer a bike when you are in a full panic with the right fork leg trying to bust its way through plywood and your butt is sliding down the wall and not sitting on your seat. The tire wedged itself between the jump and the wall finishing off what little chances I had of ever saving it, the bike stopped, I didn't. Somewhere in all the co-motion of my impending face plant I made a valiant attempt to catch myself only to roll my ankle and rag doll myself down the track. That hurt!!

After a few moments of assessing which body parts were detached or relocated I hobbled back on the bike in an attempt to loosen up the ankle on the way to the water fountain. A quick assessment showed lots of tan paint on the forks and a bent front wheel and all body parts accounted for except the right ankle. An hours more riding didn't help matters any as the more I rode, the weaker it got until I could barely even keep the foot planted on the pedals anymore. I gathered up the posse and we headed to McDonald's for some fat food.

By the time we got home the joint was so sore I could barely push the brakes. This morning things were better and I was able to walk without a grimace.   I doubt anything is broke but the thing is so stiff that I can't walk without a noticeable limp. Looks like Moto and I will match for a while. I wonder who will heal first?

Timing and Luck

2010-02-20T17:53:00.000-08:00

Went for a ride this morning and was supposed to meet up with a few friends. Luck would have it having a headband on, I thought I had my skid-lid, back to the house. Forgot to get my pump off the road bike, back to the basement. I showed up at the parking lot 10 minutes late and just kept rolling.

A few miles down the road I caught JW and was told he also got there late. I had some work to do so the chase was on, not what I wanted but what the heck. I hit Bolivar and still no sight of any club members, not even the super tourist who plod along enjoying the scenery. Hmmm, maybe the changed the route and JW and I didn't know. Half way down Canal I saw a couple riders up ahead so I upped the pace just high enough to keep my back in check. I get to Zoar and no riders. Hmmm, I know even the slowest of the cyclotourist wouldn't ride this fast. I cranked up the pace and had those 35c knobbies humming along and a few miles later I finally catch BD and CK. We loop back though Bolivar and there goes the rest of the club, the other way. Where the heck were they? Found out later they ad-libbed the route to avoid hills, got a flat and it took them nearly and hour to fix it. That'll teach them to take the pussy path.

I talked the guys into adding on a few extra miles so we looped around Beach City and Brewster before heading back to Navarre. We were sitting in the lot and I made the comment that I wanted to check the sledding hill out and see if it was still good enough to bring Mak down for the afternoon. CK said I should ride down it so I did. I headed up the drive in one of the wheel ruts and was greeted by sleds coming down each rut so I jumped in the middle until they passed. I cautiously rode down the hill thinking about the last time I did this on fat tires and separated my shoulder. Then I tried to climb it, twice, but I kept getting stuck when the rear wheel would dig in and sink. I gave up and headed to McDonalds to harass the seniors who were mooching AARP coffee.

Just as I turned north on Market I saw a group of kids carrying "stuff" down the street. One yelled something and then I recognized them as my Orrville Teammates who were coming back from an auction. They were 3 doors from home and invited me over for the 10 cent tour so I followed them over to Casa Del Huck-Brown.

After the open house I grabbed my bike and noticed the pump was missing. DANG!!! (being polite) That's the 3rd pump I have lost over the past 2 years. Just as I made it up to SR21, a pick up truck started honking at me. I thought "great, another moronic redneck who needs the whole friggin road for his fat butt. When I turned to see what all the fuss was about a guy and his little girl were waving me over to the truck. The guy asked if I was the one just down at the park riding down the sled hill? Great, now I'm going to get heckled for rutting up the hill. I said yes and he proceeded pull out my pump and said "you lost this". SAWEET!!! I thanked him and said that I had just noticed it was missing a few moments ago. Sure am sorry I assumed he was an idiot!

If I had just rode on up to McDonalds and not taken the tour, I wouldn't have gotten my pump back. Thanks Lorena!! I owe you one.

Night at Ray's

2010-01-28T08:23:00.000-08:00

Boy am I sore!! I had a non-fall crash or does that not make sense?

A group of us went to Ray’s Indoor Mountain Bike Park in Cleveland last night. The place is in a big warehouse and is full of wood, concrete, rocks, logs and many different items to make trails, stunt areas and various other obstacles to challenge your sense of skill.

The moment we arrived we were greeted by fire and rescue. One possible broken and ankle and another knocked out cold. The night was looking wild already! We got signed in and I headed to one section called the pump track to warm up. This portion of track is full of 18”-24” rollers that when your bars and pedals are pumped up and down the surfaces, you can accelerate without pedaling and attain speeds almost too fast to make the turns. 5 laps around this 100’ long track and you’ll be breathing like a marathon runner and not have pedaled once.

After that I spent an hour riding around everywhere I could. I was making a lap on the cross country course and speeding along on the outer perimeter trail and flew over a jump. The initial part of the landing had logs laid down as the surface, sort of like the wall of a log cabin. My rear wheel kicked up on one of the logs and my left foot came off the pedal and hit the ground. I was moving at a pretty good clip and my foot planted securely to the floor and then my Achilles was met with full force of the pedal that I just fell off of. The impact made things worse and now I was out of control, both feet off the pedals.

Being that I was standing up on a bike with the seat as low as it could go and leaning back a little, the laws of gravity finally caught up to me. I fell backwards onto the rear tire; which like in the cartoon treadmill, shot me straight into the seat while still going close to 20 mph. So here I am, sitting on my tire, the seat embedded into my gut, my ass acting like a bicycle brake locking up the rear tire and my groin smashed into the frame skidding down the track waiting for impending doom.

I ended skidding to a stop, still on 2 wheels, unable to breath, my buns were burnt from friction, my Achilles tendon had teeth makes in it and I was suffering from a mild case of testiculous smashenitous. I walked over and leaned against the wall trying not to look like I was going to cry or look too sissified!!! A few moments later, I was in the lounge area taking a break waiting for Tim to bring my truck keys so I could change bikes.

About 15 minutes later I was back at it. The rest of the night was uneventful, thank the Lord!

Happy New Year

2010-01-01T19:01:00.000-08:00

I got both of my rides in today. It almost didn't happen though because it's Ohio, it is cold and I had no ambition to go outside and freeze. I kept coming up with every excuse I could to not do my 1st ride of the year and just stay inside like a pansy. I made the mistake of looking at my email and saw an invite from Dr. Joust to the Cleveland Area Mountainbike Associations Annual Urban Assault in Downtown Brownstown, aka Cleveland. Hadn't done it in a couple years and this year it was a poker run.

After much procrastinating I pulled my head out of my azz and decided to go. Met the gang at high noon. The weather really sucked for a road ride but being on the Mtb wouldn't have been too bad but the jacket I took decided to make my day by allowing thew zipper to come apart. Luckily I had a spare but it wasn't 100% windproof or warm. The temps were in the low 20's and the wind was howling off Lake Erie bringing in some snow with it and was pushing the waves over the breakwalls. I paid for my poker hand and headed out with Dr. Joust and his cronies.

The check points were throughout the downtown and the surrounding area and you pulled your own cards. I found it weird as the cards had numbers all the way up to 39+. I found out later you matched the number on the card you pulled with the number on a board that had a real car underneath it. Clever way to get your own hand and score yourself without being able to cheat. I had a pair of 6's didn't get me squat!

Even though the weather truly did suck and kept most men at home watching one ball sports, there were about a dozen women who showed up and rode. While the temps and snow didn't make it bad, the wind made it interesting. No 200 lb man should have to pedal down hill!!

Made it home around 3pm, got a hot shower, downed a half bag of chips and headed out on the 640. I only had time for 30 minutes so I headed down the rail bed to harass the local ATV clan. The locals who drive it for fun in their trucks turned it into a long ribbon of sheet ice so I opted to head for the weeds where at least there was some type of friction to be found beneath the layers of snow. It didn't help I was using a road legal tire set on the bike that had low and wide knobs that would have trouble finding traction on anything less than a groomed trail. I wasn't the only one out, there were 6 ATV's out playing in the snow too. Unfortunately, time always flies when you are having fun.

I no more than got my helmet off when I received a call that George was crossing the county line. We left to meet them for dinner which is always a good time.

Another long day, 364 more to go.

End of a Generation

2009-12-29T17:07:00.000-08:00

On July 17th, 1921 Anna Marie Blanchard was born near Freeburg, Ohio. Many years later she married Ralph Gorman, my grandfather. Not long after my father and uncle were born, Grandpa Raplh passed away from illness. Years later she married Hansford Ayers, the man who I always knew as my Grandfather and he did a damn fine job as far as I am concerned. In 2005 Grandpa Ayers passed away after a long battle with Cancer and Strokes leaving Anna as the Matriarch of the family, the last of her generation.

Christmas Eve Grandma Anna's heart suffered a massive attack that knocked most of the wind that remained from her sails. About 24 hours later the heart that was as big as the great outdoors couldn't pump no more and the Angels came a calling and took her home.

I remember the times when I was in school I would ride my bicycle from Alliance to her home in Pattersonville, Carroll County. Stop by the golf course where she worked and mooch a lunch before continuing on to her home to mow her lawn and spend the night before riding home.

I remember going to Carrollton to go shopping and walking through the old stores with their hardwood floors. I remember her own dry goods store she had in Minerva and all the great family get togethers at their home in the Carroll County hills. Sunday mornings were spent in the front pew at the Mt. Zion Church with her while she waited her turn to fill the air with music from the organ or piano.

Going to a service or calling hours for anyone is no fun, going for a family member is even worse. This is the 2nd time I have carried a casket to the grave site but this time it was different, I was carrying my Grandma. Carrying a casket to the grave then watching it being lowered is an entirely different emotion. When the top is placed on the vault you can't help but feel an immense sadness. She now rests beside Grandpa Ayers back in Freeburg where it all started.

I have many many great memories of her and even though the Angels came and took her away, they left her memories here to give us a sense of comfort in that we were (are) loved by a very special woman.

The negotiations

2009-10-03T19:13:00.000-07:00

Johan: Hello, Johan Bruyneel, Team Radio Shack

Michael: Hi, this is Michael Gorman, you were supposed to get back with me about my contract for 2010 with the new Radio Shack Team. I was supposed to help out on the spring classics.

Johan: Um, yeah, Sorry Michael, Um, I forgot.

Michael: I‘d just like to know where we stand before I break my contract with Orrville Cycling and Fitness.

Johan: Well, it doesn’t look very promising at the moment, we just signed Steegman’s for the spring classics and the Tour De France.

Michael: So, what are you trying to say?

Johan: Um, we have no money left to sign you on with the team.

Michael: Isn’t Lance racing for free again?

Johan: No, he is a paid rider on this team, that free ride was just with Astana to prove he was still at the top.

Michael: Maybe you are paying him too much?

Johan: NO, he is getting what he deserves, not a penny less.

Michael: Are you sure it’s a money issue and you‘re not blowing smoke up my…?

Johan: Too be honest? There are no money issues, there are too many issues with you.

Michael: Issues with me? Like what?

Johan: For starters? We’re not getting you a box of donuts before every race.

Michael: Darn, what a crock, bagels are tough and doughy, you waste too much energy trying to chew them.

Johan: And the we are not replacing the cokes with Mountain Dew. That’s all we need is a bunch of nuts racing elbow to elbow hopped up on caffeine!

Michael: Why not, caffeine isn’t on the banned substance list!!

Johan: For get it! And another thing, Luigi refuses to make fried chicken, pizza and beer battered fish for pre or post race meals.

Michael: WHAT? Those are staple foods! Are you guys a bunch of Panera Bread Panzies or what? I’ll bet Ekimov doesn’t eat that stuff.

Johan: We eat to perform on this team, not for pleasure.

Michael: How can you perform eating that stuff?

Johan: Now you know why you got you butt kicked at Nationals.

Michael: HEY, I’m allowed a bad day every now and then.

Johan: Look Pal, you had a bad year too! Besides, we don’t have any “Clydesdale” equipment, you need to lose weight. You’ll crush our wheel sets and bend out seat rails.

Michael: BULL, I’m just big boned!

Johan: Look Pork Chop, Andre the Giant was big boned, 195 is too big.

Michael: What about Magnus Backstead?

Johan: He’s good, you’re old. Besides, he has a cool name too.

Michael: Some Dude calls me the Gorminator? I have no clue why either, but it sounds cool.

Johan: Gorminator? Sound like something a flimflam man would sell for $19.95 and they’ll throw in a 2nd for free if you call now!!!

Michael: Don’t quit your day job pal, the crickets are chirping.

Hello? Hello? The punk hung up on me! Hmm, 9 o’clock, I still have time to swing past Liebermann’s Bakery for a cream stick before the club ride. I wonder if Bob Baker wants me to pick one up for him too? Ah man, my seat is bent again….

The Chapel Series

2009-07-19T17:29:00.000-07:00

Every summer for the past 3 or more years the Chapel in Green has hosted a criterium series to raise money for charities and ministries. Only one member of the church races and the rest or volunteers. They do an awesome job and every summer I can’t wait to get back there.

This summer was no different and I had planned to do something different, race my single speed in at least one race which I did. The race went well and I felt competitive right up to the last 100 yards when I ran out of gear! Seems like the sprint was a little faster than I anticipated and had nothing to give finishing 8th.

There was one disappointing thing about the series in that the B field have a couple morons in it that couldn’t keep their mouths shut. I found that being foul mouthed on church property during a church sanctioned event to be very distasteful and disrespectful.

The very next week I addressed the B field and asked them to respect the church, the promoters and fellow racers. It didn’t work, the same guys were at it again. You would think that team mates would get a long a little better but word coming in from the other B riders was the same as the previous week. If you read this and know these morons, let them know they don’t do a very good job of representing their sponsors or their team.

Mohican 100 - 2009

2009-06-07T19:19:00.000-07:00

You know, I trained into the early spring for this race only to succumb to the pressures of life and slowly give up my season with the reasoning I needed time of the bike. I had no real reason to get off that thing except that I was slowly falling away from a sport I had done on and off for more than ½ my life. In early January I pre-entered the race with aspirations of a top 10 in the 100 mile event. By spring I was going to be lucky to get a top 10 in the 100k event.

One week before the race I decided maybe I shouldn’t even show up, just skip it and loose my entry. For some odd reason I decided to go down the night before and change my entry to the 100k on the single speed. It was going to suck because I hadn’t ridden more than 3 hours all spring and here I was entering a race that lasted 6 hours.

Photo by Aaron Holmes

I showed up with a stomach full of butterflies and enough doubt to make even Thomas look like the most optimistic and faithful. On the ride to the starting line I opened my mouth and inserted my foot pretty far down my throat to choke on it. I was riding with another rider and we were talking about proficiencies in racing and such when I mentioned that there were too many category 4 racers that need to move to category 3 and quit posing around the 4 field for 10 years or more. Seems like one of the guys had been a cat 4 for many many years and found my comment a little offensive - DOH!!

I milled around the start area for a little bit before the race and tried to get myself pumped up and catch up with all the latest BS from the guys I hadn’t seen all spring. It was time to line up and it was announced there would be a prime for the 1ft person to reach the city limits sign but the catch was, you had to finish the race to cash in on the $100 prize.

With a $100 prime on the line the start was extremely fast and with hundreds of riders vying for position and some for cash, things got hectic. Being on a single speed it was tough at 1st until the road turned upwards and the gear heads started downshifting and the single speeders moved through the pack passing those with poor climbing abilities.

By the time we hit the woods the trail was one long massive constipated snake going no where fast. People were in single file waiting for everyone in front to bust a move so I decided to ride around them and risk hitting a rock or stump hidden in the weeds. It worked out pretty well as I was moving forward by leaps and bounds. By the time we entered the state park section of the trail I was in the company of some fairly competent and fast riders going at a satisfactory pace. Following them would keep me from burning myself up before the end. When we reached what the locals call Mt. Doom the riders in front slowly started to drop like flies. By the time we reached the top there were only two left, Betsy Shogren and someone from team Lake Effect. The Lake Effect guy pulled off and I passed Betsy while passing through check point one.

More miles of sweeping fast single track and one hell of a hike a bike. Under normal hiking conditions this hill was more or less tamable by even the most out of shape hiker. Add a 25+ pound bicycle to the ascension and you go no where fast. The guy in front of you is only 10 yards away but by the time you reach the top he already has a 1/8 mile of single track between the two of you.

The trails finally give way to a short pavement section and some gravel roads that link you to the next section of single track. I caught up to Wes Jones of Soup Can Racing and was riding with him for a while. He seemed a little pissed for some reason and I wasn’t sure why. Found out later he was mad because I didn’t acknowledge him when I passed him on the trail earlier. I never saw their new team kits before so I figured it was just another schmuck in the race. On one of the hills the pace was getting low enough I had to start cranking or succumb to someone else’s cadence and suffer. Wes once again got upset because he thought I was attacking him and trying to drop him. I just didn’t want to pedal that slow and not having another gear to select, I had to go faster.

I entered the next section of single track with a couple riders hot on my tail. I kept them at bay for a while but I was riding at a pace I didn’t want to burn up at so I backed off and let them pass. It was Betsy! We rolled into check point 3 where the 100k and 100 mile separate, I grabbed a PBJ and Mt Dew and kept on rolling. Betsy took the 100 mile route and I took the sissy 100k. She went on to win the women’s 100 miler. When I left the split I never saw another bike until I reached the state park again. I entered the woods and came to a section bannered off. I knew Lorsen was ahead of me and couldn’t figure out where he went. I spent the better part of 10 minutes looking for the right trail and decided to go back to the entrance where people were yelling the signing was wrong and pointed the right way.

It was almost too late as the 3rd single speed, Wes Jones, was coming at me at full throttle. We hit the woods and started what would be a 6 mile battle at efforts well above what one would expect at a shorter race. My legs were cramping bad and the pain was getting annoying as was the fact I could barely bend them any more and I had to peg leg one climb that was too steep to pedal. On the downhill grades I would see Wes gaining on me only to drop him again on the next climb. After many burned turns and near misses with trees, rocks and logs the trail dropped out onto a gravel road. All I could do was spin as fast as possible knowing Wes’ bike was geared taller than mine. I spent what would be the last ½ mile spinning with one leg as my left quad was seized tighter than a rusty bolt on Chevette.

After I crossed the finish line I rolled up to Trek Rep. Bob Myers and dropped my bike. I couldn’t lift my leg to get off so I had to lay it down and walk away. In the end I was surprised to find out I did indeed finish 2nd and 11th overall. I won $100 which gave me a net profit of $1 after deducting the $99 entry.

I was surprised that I was able to do that well in a race that I hadn’t even trained for. Maybe next year I will get my head out of my ass and make the big show and try to beat Betsy. It’s a long shot but who knows, maybe I can beat her, if she gets a flat or two, or three…

Chasing Ghosts - Part 1

2009-05-13T19:26:00.001-07:00

Tim and I headed to Mohican after work Tuesday for a spin on the mountain bike course. I had a feeling he was too tired from his big ride the past weekend at TOSRV but telling Tim he’s tired is like telling a child it’s bed time, he just wasn’t hearing it!

Luckily I was able to talk him into riding a geared bike while I rode the single speed. I figured with his lack of good rest, it’d be a decent match up. By the 12 mile mark Tim was getting further and further off the back so when we got to the covered bridge I took a picture and when he got there pretty much demanded he take it easy for a while and ride the road for the next section, get a lead on me and I’d catch up.

He reluctantly went up the road as I headed up Mt. Doom, the chase was on, or so I thought. I reached the parking area at the top of the hill and Tim had moved on so I started chasing at above race pace in hopes of getting a break when I caught up. I chased and chased and was riding over my head but when the next road crossing came and still no Tim I started thinking “He’s flying to try and stay ahead”.

I started the last 4 miles hammering away going too fast when I shouldn’t have and almost paying for it a couple times. I hit a rock garden at almost twice the speed I normally would and the impacts shook me and the bike so hard all the accumulated sweat in my skid lid got squeegeed out all over me and in my eyes making the rest of the rock garden a blinding out of control blur. There was so much sweat I thought it had started to downpour. I also got a little too close to a tree and it reached out and grabbed me by the shirt sleeve for running over its roots cutting a nice 3” slice through the jersey and the base layer and thankfully not me. It had a good enough grip to almost rip my hand off the bars.

Still no Tim. I kept looking over the hillsides down the switchbacks looking for signs of movement and the sounds of a chain slapping the frame but there was nothing but birds and deer. Just as I made the final 100 meters of trail I saw Tim crossing the bridge into the campground, perfect timing! Or so I thought.

“So much for riding slow so I could catch up eh”? All he did was laugh, and then he let the cat out of the bag. He had gone up the road but at the top there is a short trail that cuts from the road over to the parking lot. Tim took that trail and thought he could come back down the road a hundred meters or so and do the trail again before I got there. When he came back through the lot a 2nd time a couple guys asked him if he was looking for a guy in red on a single speed and if he was, he just went flying by! So here I am chasing Tim and he’s behind me!! He had done the fire tower to the next road then skipped the next section due to the fact he knew I was at full throttle and he finally had to admit he was flat out tired. He rode back on the pavement and the and headed back up the trail backwards and when he heard me crashing though the woods, turned around to make it look like he had just beat me back!!

When we crossed under Rt. 3 I headed off into the Wolholding River to splash some water on me. I told him to go grab the camera and I’d video him cross the creek. He said “NO, we’re going home!” So much for getting Tim to take another bath!

Splish splash Tim takes a bath!!

2009-04-27T19:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterdays duathlon left me semi paralyzed from my insulated 4 pack down so Tim and I went on a recovery ride this evening to spin the legs out and maybe get some blood flowing.

The ride was uneventful until we came back into town. The bridge on the Sippo Trail was burnt down by local dysfunctional juvenile derelicts so we went over the side and crossed the wooden ties laid acros the water at the bottom. I rode across and watched Tim make an effort but before he started I predicted an 80% chance of wet. He chickened out and walked.

We ended up riding down the creek on the gravely bars and beds crossing back and forth to the highest ground making our way back to town. Each time we’d cross the water got deeper and the last crossing was the deepest. I made my way across getting both feet wet and was just getting off the bike to wait on Tim when I heard two very distinct sounds but separate sounds that were merged together. It sounded something like OHFUUUSPLASH. I couldn’t get turned around in time and when I did all I saw was a head, an arm and part of a leg clipped into a pair of spd pedals, the rest was water and a few bike parts!! Luckily for Tim, I could stop laughing long enough to get the camera phone out!! The last mile home was wet as predicted.

Suposedly in France Bonifant means good water. So Mr Bonifant, how was the water?

Hinkley Buzzard Duathlon and Biathlon

2009-04-26T18:58:00.000-07:00

In the words of Josh McClay “Holy Hanna”!! I was afraid I might be getting in over my head and this week hasn’t been the greatest as far as getting rest and prepping myself for a race I‘d never done before. We were supposed to leave at 7am but Josh called at 6:30 to tell me he was ready, damn early birds. Turra was worried about me using running shoes on BMX pedals instead of changing into cycling shoes. With 2 transitions back and forth and the bike only being 15 miles, there wasn’t much to worry about, I thought. Like any hard workout I try to weigh myself before and after to gage water loss. Damn!! I’m 3 pounds too light for Clydesdale (200+) so I’m racing with the mid-life crisis old guys.

We arrived on time, registered and took a lap by bike and the 1st thing I found out, the course was hilly! There wasn’t a flat spot to be found except for a hundred yards every now and then. The warm up run proved that my legs were in fact still dead from the Wednesday night ride. To make things uglier for me was the fact some sadist placed the start line at the base of the longest hill. The course was 1 lap run, 5 lap bike, 1 lap run unless you were doing the biathlon which you didn’t do the 2nd run. (wimps) I racked my bike with a spare tube, Co2 and a little snack,… time to get my butt kicked.

Run 1 - The passive side beat down the aggressive side and I started mid to back of the pack so I wouldn’t get run over by faster runners but not have to pass stragglers. It didn’t work as I was tripping and stumbling around trying to pass people who were slower. By the time I crested the hill there were runners strung out for hundreds of yards. I have a little of Moto Dog in me and when I see something moving, I chase it. (competitors, not groundhogs!) mixed in with the group were people wearing cycling specific team jerseys so I fixated myself on them and used them as rabbits to motivate me. It worked pretty well and by the end of the run I had made some decent progress but was worried I’d burned one too many matches getting there catching a Stark Velo and a couple Snake Bites along the way.

The Bike - More like push a bike as you can’t ride your bike inside the transition area. My set up was simple, flip the brain bucket on (yes I have a little left to protect) and stuffed my pockets, snatched the bike and ran cyclocrossed onto it and realized “NO RIDING IN TRANSITION”!! Shit, jump off run out of the area and a little extra for good measure to brown nose the officials and remounted.

The last thing I wanted to do was blow up so I eased into this leg only to have a couple guys on full blown tri bikes pass me right out of the gates. Luckily for me these guys can’t climb hills worth a damn on their sport specific bikes and I easily re-passed them long before the top then let my heart rate settle in before hitting it hard. In a time trail you pace yourself to bonk or blow chunks as you cross the finish line but here I had to save energy for run 2. This was going to be hard to gage since I’d never done one of these before. I did the same thing as on the run making forward progress picking off every bike I could see. A few times guys would re-catch me on the easy stuff but as soon as we hit the harder hills they dropped off like they had the brakes on.

The course was 4 cornered so I treated the course like a criterium and dove into them as hard as I could without killing anyone or myself. The downhill 90 was the best for passing as everyone hit the brakes early. I melted my pads trying to get stopped passing 2 and 3 people while braking and nearly wiping the safety cones out each lap. The aggressive riding was taking it’s toll and I had to coast a short bit and stretch my back before it seized. I caught and passed 3 of my friends who do this stuff all the time so I was feeling good but worried about how many were burned that I would need later. At the end of the 5th lap I was so anxious to get the 2nd run over with I turn onto the bike path by mistake where the runners go for transition, DAMN!!! I slammed the brakes on and swerved into the grass, across the gravel berm and back onto the road before too many people could get a good laugh at me.

Run 2 - Now I know why triathletes come to a stop when dismounting, holy cow I had gummy legs!! I jumped off at speed like in a ‘cross race and just about bit it. Luckily my rack was at the far end so was able to use the bike to steady me while running. I racked the bike and tried to run doing my best impersonation of a drunken runner. I guess the fun was over as the final run was boring as as a political debate and I only saw two people the whole time. All the bikes that I had been gaining on in the last two straights were only doing the biathlon and didn’t have to run again, wimps!! (I wish I had been a wimp) ½ way into the final run 2 guys behind me slowly reeled me in and one got by. Luckily he was in a different age group, woohoo!! I didn’t think that finish line would ever come into sight and when it did I was trying my best not to let the 2nd guy catch me. To my surprise they handed me a medal when I crossed the line and it took me a few minutes to figure out I placed 3rd in my age group and of course I immediately wondered if there were only 3 of us entered! I finished in about 1:25, 15 minutes faster than Turra predicted and about a day and half sooner than my own prediction.

The finish line was cool, a whole box of donuts were waiting there for me!! Josh came in about 10 minutes later and when I offered him one he turned white and looked like death warmed over. I forgot he doesn’t do well with the thoughts of food after a big work out, sorry Josh! I got harassed by my friends for using running shoes on the bike but it was from all the guys I had passed! We grabbed our bikes and did a warm down and to my mistake, forgot to check my computer to see my bike split which was worthless as I forgot to start my stopwatch too. Lets see if I can get rested up before Saturday’s 100 mile time trial.

2009-04-23T17:53:00.000-07:00

OCC Sufferama

2009-04-23T17:42:00.000-07:00

If having my legs ripped off by Scott wasn't bad enough, I went against better judgement and went to the Orrville Cycling Club Team ride last night.

The ride started ok with me feeling not so ok. Part way through I felt like I might be coming to life. About 3/4 of the way through I somehow managed to out sprint Big Dave for a green sign. A few miles later I was at the front taking my turn pulling. I had been keeping them shorter than usual due to my lack of confifdence in my fitness.

Then it happened. While at the front I was thinking about the pain in my back and my legs. I felt like I was burrying myself for the satisfaction of going fast and getting a work out. It didn't take long to make up my mind and I pulled off to the left, way off. I sat up and just left them go trying to decide if this is really what I want to do.

I've pretty much decided that this year is going to be my year to say screw bicycle racing and just ride for fun.

Maybe next year.

Michael Challenge

2009-04-11T19:15:00.000-07:00

I really would like to do a few races this year that require endurance. I’ve been trying to ride long on the weekends and it has been slowly kicking my butt. The 1st attemp was following Scott Luikart where he pretty much destroyed Mark Sclater and I in only 65 miles.

The 2nd attempt was last weekend where I tried to do a hilly Atwood Lake ride on the single speed. Everything went fine until I climbed New Cumberland hill. I didn’t think you could pedal that slow and not fall over. 71 miles later, I finished not feeling too bad.

Today was a totally different story though. The 1st week was Scott killing me, last week the hills, this week it was Mother nature and her blowhard ways. The day started off bad from the beginning as my chain kinked a ½ mile from home. I could have fixed it but went home and replaced it instead. Now I am late and hauling but trying tog et to Bolivar by 9am. Made it on time and headed south with the group. I haven’t spent that much time fighting winds in a long time. The trip down south was pretty spirited as Bob D and Mike took pulls in the high 20’s and sometimes 30mph. I only took my pulls at 25mph and for a good reason. The tail wind we were enjoying was going to turn into the devils breath on the way back.

We left Newcomerstown and headed north and just as suspected, it was a sufferama. I pulled as long and often as I could to build on my endurance hoping for 2 things, workout and keep the cooking so we weren‘t out there all day. The plan almost backfired as 2 of the riders joining me started to hit the wall with 10 miles to their cars. Luckily we were near where I wanted to split off so Chuck waited for the stragglers while I headed home.

I could feel the energy slowly leaving me and the miles started to take longer and longer. I tried to think about racing the KTM but that only made me pedal faster and make things worse. For some reason when I think about racing the motorcycle I get a little tense or hyper depending on what I am doing.

Strasburg, 15 miles to go, 4 climbs along the way, I praying for a limping truck I can draft, no luck, they’re all flying. 10 miles to go, I’m in Stark County and climbing the longest climb before home. The hill is blocking the wind so it is easier than the open flats, still sucks. I’m finally over the 3rd hill, thank God I didn’t ride the single speed!!

Things are looking grim. I keep reaching for my phone but resist the urge. I opt out for the towpath trail and bypass the final climb up Warmington. My legs are cramped, my butt is burning, my back and kidney area aches, still 3 miles to go. Praying for rednecks on 4 wheelers to shot me and stop the misery. I finish off my 4th water bottle and 4th granola bar and 2nd goo pack was downed a few miles ago. ARGH, I forgot by going this was I still had to climb both sections of Walnut!!

97 miles and I finally reach the garage but I am afraid to unclip thinking my leg would collapse upon standing. All goes well and I am able to collapse in the bathtub where I slept for a ½ hour.

Tucson - the trip home

2009-03-25T20:53:00.001-07:00

We arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare. We knew it was going to be a long flight home, the flight was overbooked and there were at least 5 babies getting on and close to a dozen children. The rest was filled with various walks of life. The skies were clear and the military planes were leaving at regular intervals leaving you with the secure feeling that there weren’t going to be any enemy air attacks any time soon.

They started begging for some one to take a later flight as a late arrival just had to be on this flight.

Just before we were to board the plane an attendant asked a woman to check a baby buggy of as the buggy wasn’t allowed inside the cabin and would be returned to them immediately upon landing. When asked she her and the old man if they had purchased a separate ticket for the child you could tell they weren’t too happy. There were no extra seats available and I had the feeling this woman thought she was just so special the airline would make an exception for just little ole her. Eventually she quit discussing the issue and allowed them to take the buggy and the old man returned to his seat.

They continued begging for a passenger to take a later flight offering cash and vouchers. I would have taken it but the next flight was 5 hours away and I had Turra with me.

Then there was the sun bunny who was so tanned she looked like an over baked ginger bread man no one wanted to eat.. She was all dressed up with somewhere to go, decked out in huge spiked platform sandals, skin tight jeans and fake fingernails that were so long she could barely use her fingers. Must have been a late night down at the teen club as she tried all morning to sleep across two chairs wrapped up in a coat.

We finally got to board the plane and as luck would have it, we pretty much boarded last with unassigned open seating. By the time we made it on board, all the good seats were taken and the only multiple open seats left were the back row. So we could sit relatively close together, we took the back row, me at my favorite spot, the window and her near the isle so she could stretch out. I was hoping for some one good to sit there, young and hot, middle aged and sexy, a cougar, even a kid would do.

Then it happened, The Butt Sisters, two huge beefalos, Betty Butch and her Queen came charging down the isle demanding the steward (yes, we had male attendants) give them side by side seating because her “companion” as she called her, had medical issues that required getting up every 10 minutes so the coumadin in her wouldn’t cause blood clots. Someone needed to tell the cranky assed tubby that coumadin prevents blood clots, not cause them. No one wanted to get stuck with two tubbies in the same row so the butch looking one decided to plant herself between us. At 1st we thought she was going to need a giant shoe horn or a little anal lube to get her enormous butt between the arm rest but somehow she managed to wedge herself in and no, it wasn’t very pretty.

Queen Coumadin seemed content to be where she was but Betty Butch was not a happy tubby. She huffed and puffed and tried to get her own way but to no avail, the plane took off with her stuck, literally to me. At least she didn’t stink! If it hadn’t been for the arm rests, I would have been smashed between the human garbage disposal and the narrowing tail section of the plane. Turra was hanging into the isle way in total disbelief.

We were no long up to altitude when the stewards came by and asked if we wanted any snacks? Betty Butch couldn’t decide so she took one of every thing along with a large bag of cookies presented to her by Queen Coumadin. It didn’t take long before all the snack food was devoured and crumbs swept away all over me, the floor and who knows where else. I’m surprised she didn’t inhale them like a human Hoover. Meanwhile I was trying to eat some peanuts when one dropped from my hand. I was afraid to catch it as my hand might get caught up in her diving for it, she did look famished you know.

Then came the fun part, Betty Butch evidently doesn’t do well on roller coasters either. As soon as we hit bad weather and the plane started pitching she started getting nauseous all the while the sweet wide cheeks who was supposedly sick, never batted an eye. Poor Betty kept wobbling all over in her seat pushing me up against the wall, excusing herself, then repeating, lean forward, lean back, pitch left, pitch right. She couldn’t sit still for the longest time until she finally closed her eyes, probably praying for a ho ho. The whole time this was going on I kept my head buried in a video game while listening to music trying like hell to keep the Butt Sisters out of my mental (and physical) space.

We finally made final approach to Chicago when I realized that Queen Coumadin, who was supposed to get up every 10 minutes, never left her friggin seat!! I think these two dikes were trying to pull a fast one just to get to sit together. One could only imagine what would happen to the 3rd person in the row that housed those two as the 3rd person would surely have to be as skinny as Kalista Flockart.

I know this may offend some people but now I understand why Airlines want to charge double seating for the obese. It is a shame that we (they) are that way. It’s one thing to have a little fat, padding or what ever you want to call it but to be carrying enough girth to take up the space of 2-3 people is absurd. I have plenty of chunky friends and they aren’t that big I once saw a guy who was at least 400+ riding in an electric scooter. He left the buffet table with huge heaping helpings of everything he could get onto TWO plates, one on each leg to take back to his table. When you need to use a scooter to get to the table, the last place you need to take your fat ass is a freaking buffet! Last summer I met a woman in Marietta who was born in France and lived Amsterdam. When I asked her what she thought of America, the 1st thing from her mouth was “there are so many fat people. It’s probably just a bad case of hyperactive jaw bone combined with an inability to get off one’s ass to do anything other than walk to the fridge.

Sorry if I offended anyone, I need a donut…

Tucson, Day 5

2009-03-22T13:06:00.000-07:00

One more attempt to make it up Mt Lemon. I left at 6.30 to avoid the heat. Part way there I rode off the side of the road when the pave shoulder just ended. Seems like I missed a turn when I head down and wasn't paying attention. Nothing looked familiar so I asked a guy at an intersection how to get back to the hill. Once back on course I stopped at mile Zero for a bite to eat before subjecting myself to stupidity of climbing while still sick. One hour down, many more to go...

Being the weekend there were more people on the mountain, unfortunately, most of them behind me. Why would you want to climb during the full heat of the day? Seems like only 4 people had the same idea as there were 3 on the mountain already and a woman passed me while I was munching a non-peanut butter infested cliff bar.

I started the stopwatch and rolled up the hill in search of the well filled spandex that had just passed by. I wish she was a little faster as riding alone is boring and she made a fine view while drafting. However, at her pace I am not sure I would have made it by night fall. I pressed on and around mile 3 passed a couple older gentlemen chatting away while wobbling all over the road. At this point I was averaging around 9 miles and hour and was looking to finish in around 2.5 hours. It was kinda nice having some people ahead to pace off of but they were too far and too few in between. Somewhere around mile 9 I passed another senior citizen riding a beautiful flat black campy 6/13. From then on it was boringsville and smokers hack the rest of the way.

Turra and her parents were going to meet me at the fudge shop at the top and have a picnic lunch at one of the overlooks. I was in fear of them getting there a long time before me and forcing me to get in the car with them not allowing me to finish the climb. So every time I heard a car coming up behind me I hoped it wasn't white. The mentally hard part was, there was a white car that kept passing me, repeatedly, as he was stopping at all the overlooks. At mile 14 I passed him for good while his hood was up with a jug of water sitting on the fender waiting for the radiator. WOOHOO - I WON!! Man beats machine!! (A faulty machine!)

Around mile 16 I started to feel good and for the 1st time thought I would really make the top with ease. About 500 feet past mile 20 where I had stopped a few days earlier I started to feel the dreaded bonk crawling up my legs. I looked down and saw I still had 2 more gears to go so like a girly girl, used them, a lot! I pressed on changing between sit and stand trying use my 200 pound butt to make the pedals go down. At around mile 22 the terrain leveled off and even had a down hill to help me relax. The turns were fast, fun and lined with snow, the cold air chilling me pretty good making the legs feel heavy on the next climb. It's amazing how fast you can row that shifter from high gear to panzyville riding at a clip you are sure a desert tortoise could out run.

The longer I rode, the longer it seemed to take for the next mile marker to pop up. At one point I swear I saw the number 18 go past twice! I finally started to see civilization and the sign near mile 24 noting the town of Summerhaven, time 2:28:15 a hair under 10 mph. What a relief!!

I continued on into town and then headed up to the ski slopes. Holy Cow, this road is steeper! I was down to gear 1 and starting to wobble like those old men. The sun was at full mast and blaring down like a blow torch. If it hadn't been for the sun, I would have thought it were raining from all the sweat. I think this portion has the the steepest and hardest climb that ended at a gate. I should have went further but I turned back for town to meet up with the crew and lunch so they wouldn't call out the rangers to come find me. By the time I made it to the meeting place I had in over 4 hours of riding, most of it up hill including the climb from the valley floor to mile zero.

Tucson - Day 2

2009-03-19T20:21:00.000-07:00

THIS PLACE IS HOT!!! Not as in babe hot, more like satin hot. Been sick with sore throat and sinuses since arrival. Got up early this morning and rode to the golf course with Pierre where I was dropped off in front of this sign.

Loaded to the rim with 4 bottles, couple tubes, tools, food and some other misc junk I headed to mile post 0 at the bottom of the hill. At the 1st switchback I saw a line of bikes following me up the hill. At mile post 4 I was wondering why. Next the thing I knew a guy on a TT bike passes me but only lasted another mile and turned back. By mile post 6 I figured I’d try to make it to 10. When I finally made it to 10 I thought try for half way, 12. I kept saying I was going to turn around at the next milepost but I kept going. My mistake was stopping to take a picture of mile post 20, a point I thought might be my last and it was near the visitors center.

I got back on the bike, went a couple hundred yards to about the 8,000 ft. mark and said “..it” and turned back to the visitors center. While I was there, the 2nd pursuer passed by me
The trip back was pretty easy as I stopped at the 1st 5 lookouts for pictures. At one lookout a rider asked me if it got any easier. I told him not really and he said “your hurting me!” The dude had his friends meet him at the top, he still had 10 miles to go.

At the last overlook I stopped at, a couple riders who had turned around came screaming by. Chase or coast? I chased of course and it took a while and sat up around mile post 2 intent to follow them the rest of the way. Rider one looked back and saw me and of course, hit the drops and took off. When will little scrawny guys learn you aren’t beating my fat butt to the bottom of a hill. Once we hit the flats I pulled up beside them to see where they were from, they sat up, I guess since they didn’t shake me, I wasn’t good enough for them.

I made it back to the condo totally exhausted got cleaned up, went to the docs for drugs and then off to the air museum. 8pm and it finally cooled off.

This Taylorcraft was built in Alliance Ohio where I grew up and the building where my father worked for Sancap.

Tucson, Day 1

2009-03-18T20:02:00.000-07:00

WOW, this place is hot and dry. The roads are ok, not much different from home except for the wider berms. I rented a Caad5 Cannondale and took an hour spin. The buildings all look alike and sometimes makes finding my way home a little difficult.

The condo is at the base of the mountains containing Mt Lemon, my goal for tomorrow, if the sore throat and ear ache subsides.

1st OCC ride of the season

2009-03-12T17:50:00.000-07:00

Boy did I suffer and freeze. I tried to ride in the rear and away from any aggressive riding but in the end I rolled off the back and rode my own pace back to the shop. I was so depressed, I called Lifeline and got a call center in Pakistan. When I told them I was suicidal, they got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck? At least I didn't get a flat.

2008 World Submarine Racing Championships

2009-03-05T19:38:00.001-08:00

It was a photo finish!!

What were you expecting?

Bissell Contest

2009-03-05T19:36:00.000-08:00

Looks like Moto didn't make the cut. Most of the winning dogs were your averge run of the mill designer dogs from puppy mills.

Oh well, maybe next time.

Moto needs your vote!!

2009-02-24T10:19:00.000-08:00

Miss Moto needs you vote to become the Bissell MVP. If you've ever been around this shedder, you know why she needs a new sweeper!

Vote for Moto!

If she wins, she promise to rid you refrigerator of any unwanted meat products. A promise even Obama couldn't keep.

Threading needles with camels

2009-02-08T19:46:00.000-08:00

The Bible says that it is easier for a camel to walk through the eye of the needle than it is for man to get into heaven. The bible was written well before the invention of the motorcycle and I wonder if it had been written in this modern time if motorcycles would even be mentioned. Maybe if it had, Jesus would have ridden into town on a Hodaka! My threading has nothing to do with camels or needles but may have ended at the gates of heaven had luck not been on my side.
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Many years ago I was heading home late one night traveling west on Huckleberry St. over the top of a hill at a high rate of speed when two deer stepped out into the road in front of me. They panicked and tried to run back into the woods but could not gain any traction on the pavement. They were hogging up my half of the road trying to get away and I couldn’t come close to getting stopped. I was on the brakes as hard as I could while aiming for an open spot.
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Like in the story of Moses, the seas parted just enough for the Transalp to sneak between the deer. If I had not been in a total white knuckle panic I could have let go of the brakes and slapped each of them on the rump as I passed between them. All three of us filled the west bound lane and before I knew it, I was between the deer and sweating up a storm counting my blessings.
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Last Tuesday night I was heading home from Blackhawk Powersports in Strasbug when rounding a corner, it was de-ja-vu. Two deer walked into the road half way around the turn and when I sighted them, one was completely in my lane while the 2nd was crossing the white edge line just coming onto the pavement.
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It happened way too fast and I was too close, none of us had any time to react and being leaned over in a curve left me very little options except to ride it out. I watched as the nose of the deer on my right passed inches from my handlebar. In a flash I was nearly wiping the butt of the other deer with my left knee then it was open road, an elevated heart rate and instant sweat running forming inside my helmet.
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This time I never even had time to get a finger on the controls or a toe on the brake pedal. Once again I managed to thread a camel through the eye of a needle and succeeded only though the grace of God. I am afraid the next time may be the charm as I don’t really think the deer could get any closer without making contact, and believe me, I do not want to try.

2009-02-04T18:42:00.000-08:00

Why God gave them Camels....

Thanks to John in California..

Distractions

2009-02-03T18:21:00.000-08:00

A long time ago in a land not so far away I was competing in a 2 hour cross country event (harescramble). Normally I hoot and holler at the spectators trying to get them riled and into the action, especially kids. If you can get a kids attention by acting wild or goofy, you'll have a cheering section every lap. Get a enough kids and you'll have a cheer every mile.

Being the person I am, I yell "hi" to every girl I see around the course. At this particular event I was cruising along weaving through the trees trying to maintain some flow when what do I see but a couple of drop dead gorgeous women standing in a corner. Of course I had to say hi but this time, because they were exceptionally hot, my eye contact lingered just long enough for the front tire to wash out tossing me to the ground and thumping my head on a tree.

It really didn't hurt my head but it took me a few seconds to get myself together and by then the two girls came over to ask if I was OK. I should have fained needing CPR but the embarrassment of the situation took over and I fled the scene getting back into the race.

If this distraction was there, I would have crashed hard enough to hurt myself!! Do not click if you are easily offended. Motorcycle Exhibitionist

What a day for a ride

2009-02-01T15:34:00.000-08:00

I wanted a good and hard ride today. I left just before 1pm to see if Tim and his cronies were riding the snow covered atv trails yet. I figured to get a good work out in so I rode the Lemond 'cross disc with 35c Kenda Kwicks, they weren't there so I did a short loop before heading north to see if the roadies were coming out to play. They didn't, probably sitting on the edge of their seats waiting for the stupor bowl.

I called Tim, he wasn't even ready yet so I rode down the tracks and did 2 loops of the atv trail and some other stuff before deciding to call it a day. Here comes the gringos now, about 1.5 hours late!

At one point Joe and I had a drag race going with him on his 29r as we cranked through a whooped out section of the rail bed making it up to around 15mph before I backed down with the 35c's slicing and cutting all over the place and I didn't want to fall on that nice cold hard steel rail we were following. Do you know what you get when you cross a creek and a stream? Wet feet! The creek crossing was ok and I only soaked one foot.

I called it quits shortly afterwards and headed home. The 'cross bike was one tough workout in the 3" of wet slop. My arms are mush from fighting the bars and my legs are toast and I keep falling asleep typing this...

Indoor Motocross Gone Bad

2009-01-27T17:15:00.000-08:00

Bryan and I headed to NEMX indoor motocross Sunday morning to put in a few laps and knock some of the rust out of our old knee caps.

Upon arrival we found a driveway and parking lot of nothing but ice. You'd think that a company that owns all kinds of excavating equipment could at least put a little salt down, plow a little snow, maybe put down a little grit? Not a chance baby!

We unloaded the machines staggering around like a couple of frozen drunks in the 10 degree heat wave that was engulfing the area. The building inside was even warmer at about 20 degrees but there were heated crappers and a heated spectator section and changing room along with plenty of seating in the Popsicle section.

The track was pretty cool for an indoor track with plenty of jumps. The bad part was my mind wasn't fully connected to my body as I made many impersonations of a total rookie. Luckily I signed up to ride in the expert practice sessions so I only had to look out for my self and not me and 30 other flying out of control nut cases.

I always tell myself RELAX but it wasn't working Sunday. My 1st attempt at relaxing to alleviate arm pump resulted in my planting the front wheel about 16" below the top of the landing ramp just about sterilizing myself and shearing the gas cap off the fuel cell. Luckily the suspension absorbed the height of the jump and rolled over it allowing the bike to stay under my petrified body.

My 2nd attempt at trying to be relaxed resulted in my bike flying vertical through the air with me hanging on for life in what looked like a half assed back flip. Luck was with me again as the rear wheel cleared the second jump setting down on the flat however the bike continued to roll in its still vertical position till it hit the 3rd jump. The impact flopped the bike back down onto both wheels allowing me to panic stop on the top of the berm just before I would have rolled into another lane of the track.

Many more cased jumps, swaps, near low-sides, endos and shear panic attacks I decided enough was enough and I need to live to die another day. Bryan wasn't have a very good day either and agreed without hesitation.

I'm sure we'll be back