Away they go

While those boys on east coast were on the road to recovery from a laborious “work trip”, Heywood was hitching a ride with Big Cat in his new Toyota 4runner up to Downieville. This sierra town sits along the banks of the Yuba River with an elevation of just below 3000 feet. For mountain bikers like Heywood Jablome and Big Cat, who do not enjoy climbing 5000 feet on the bike just to start an adventurous 17 mile downhill trip, a shuttle service comes in handy. For a small fee of $15, one can hitch a ride to the trailhead at over 7000 feet, just a few short miles from the Sierra Buttes. The last shuttle of the day was getting ready to head out just as they were pulling into town. Heywood was able to talk the driver into waiting around for five minutes while they got there shit together.

When the two arrived at the summit, they cracked open a silver bullet and slammed it like a couple of freshman college students from Chico. Big Cat says this helps calm his nerves. He tends to get scared easily. Time for a quick picture, don the safety equipment and it was off to the races. The conditions were better than Heywood could dream of for his first time up there. Due to the previous days dusting of snow, the ground was tacky and free of dust. There was no worry of the tires breaking loose on a high speed turn so the boys pushed the envelope. Heywood was lucky that Mrs. Jablome allowed him to bring his balls along for the day so he planned on using them.

Some stretches of the trail are tight and technical; others are wide open and very fast. One rock garden is thrown into the mix for good measure. Loud screams of ecstasy could be heard for miles as these two men raced down the mountain like kids with no fear. Flat tires were a problem on this day. Big Cat had one and Heywood got two. The difficult part is not changing the tire. It is fighting back the swarms of mosquitoes that appear that minute you stop. After the ride, Big Cat started to teach Heywood about the secret fishing holes he discovered in Downieville on previous trips.

Apparently, this area is some gathering site for the gay population. At one point, Heywood turned the corner to find a man lying down singing some old J.R. Cash tunes aloud. One can only assume this man visits the Hershey highway by looking at this picture.

This truck was kind enough to put down a trail of shit along the highway so Wood could find his way back when he comes alone.

TRI-umph!-AL

Al's Update on the healthnet Tri at Milford Beach, CT

Despite foul weather to start, we got the race in! We arrived at about 6 Am for a 7 Am start and it was VERY foggy and raining on and off. The official word when we arrived was a "we'll see" about the swim because you couldn't see (at all) any of the course buoys (PEA SOUP). After about an hour, the officials called an audible. They changed the swim course to make it a 2x loop course around the first two buoys. (The course was originally a diamond that went much further out into the LI sound.) When asked on the new distance for the course, one official was quoted as saying: "I haven't the foggiest. Pun intended."

The swim: there was a good deal of chop and current and fog as I went out on the first portion of the loop. This made the first leg a fight against current and a real "heads up" swim to see the buoy. We then turned right and followed the shore. The chop made this a bit tough too as I had to adjust quite alot to current and wave action to stay on course. The leg back to shore prior to the second loop was nice--current and wave at your back. The second loop was much the same. One thing we all agreed on: the 1.5 k swim course was now a good deal longer. I expected a 26-29 minute swim depending on conditions. I came in at about 35 minutes. I heard estimates that placed the course at 1.25 miles (about a 1/4 mile longer than expected) to 1.5 miles (1/2 mile beyond course description). I think it was probably between the two estimates. Whatever it was, it was a challenging swim with a lot of readjustment due to poor visibility and tide. I should say, that I am jazzed about the swim too. It was great to be banging it out again in such a dynamic environment. Pool swimming is a boring business. Even though the LI Sound course was tough, it was fun.

Transition areas were unremarkable. Standard paved stuff.

Bike: The course was wet and we got a number of rain showers during the ride. The first portion of the ride features some hills and a good deal of turning. This section was treacherous. I came into a turn at the bottom of a hill and wound up sideways, dabbing/sliding to stay vertical. after that I played it a bit more conservative. Others weren't so lucky. I saw several downed riders. One was being ambulanced away as I passed. I feel I biked well given the course. I averaged about 19-20 mph for a mostly flat, WET course. I don't know exact times as my watch/glasses were fogged and a pain in the ass. I know I reined myself in though. A side note: I like these tubulars a lot. But they are pumped up high and they were very slippery on the wet course (I should have mentioned a few other "slick" moments; none as bad as the one described though.)

The run was a nice two lap course and I put down 7:20s and 7:30s. I can't be exact here as mile marking was poor--only miles 1,2,3 were marked for a 6.2 mile run. The second loop my splits were all screwed up.

My overall was 2:52 and change. This is for a 1.3-1.5 m swim, 26+ m bike, 6.2 m run. I'm happy with this for the first tri of the season and for my first olympic tri.


One thing that is worth remarking on: wah, I'm chafed. Leaving at 4AM proved problematic as I spaced on my body glide. (And no, I didn't prevail upon any of my fellow triathletes: "hi, mind if I rub your body glide into my ass and armpits?") So I am chafed. Fucking rookie mistake.

I'm looking forward to the rest of the season. I plan on at least 2 more Olympics and 2-3 sprints before the end. I'm also waiting to see if I get into the NYC marathon. We shall see.

--AL

rebutt-AL

A Little Something for Moveitfag

Arizona Redux: Sports

The antibiotics seemingly have kicked in and Moveitfred's head has calmed from a boil to a slow simmer. Still have the major ear pluggage keeping the world pretty quiet coupled with occasional brown plugs of gack spewing forth from fred's tubes, but the overall pain and heartache of the infections have subsided.

With a clearer head fred now reflects back on the wide world of sports, particularly on a brand of sport freddy got hooked on in AZ. See, after burning through the desert landscape with Al all day, fred would collapse onto the spacious room couch and flip on the telly to some sort of mindless sporting event.

Admittedly one of the disturbing choices fred made was to get all into ESPN2 arm wrestling. Let Moveitfred tell you, that is some serious man-on-man shit. Very intimate, very sweaty, and sometimes straps are used if the contestants get too hot and bothered.

Moveitfred deserves all of the mockery and ridicule he received from Al Bangorhard on that front.

But Moveitfred would like to revisit another sport that consumed some of his time in that lonely ol' hotel room and that Moveitfred found himself watching with rapt intensity last night: the Women's College Softball World Series.

Al was giving freddy shit about this in AZ as well. In fact, Moveitfred thinks Al's exact words were, "Why you watchin' that lesbo shit on TV?"

But freddy got hooked nonetheless. Perhaps it was the impressive athleticism of these young women. Perhaps it was the interesting "small ball" strategies that played out on the base paths. Perhaps it was skill involved in punching base hits around the field off the heat these pitchers were throwing.

Or, perhaps is was the hot babes on the U of Arizona team.

Al's right in some regards. A few of the players on other teams were a little tough around the edges. Yeah, ok, some were downright rip-off-your-testes-and-slam-a-jackboot-into-your-bleeding-crotch tough.

But U of A was top to bottom lineup prime hottie material. Even Moveitfred's wife noticed. Last night, during the final game against Tennessee, Mrs. Moveitfred said after much study of the game, "Hey, those Arizona girls aren't lesbians."

Yes, no kidding.



Moveitfred would just like to say congrats to the Lady Wildcats for their something like 50th national championship by whuppin' those tough Lady Vols 5 - zip last night. And a special shout to that feisty little blond whip on the mound, Taryne Mowatt, who apparently threw over a thousand pitches in the tournament.


Blond, tanned Taryne is from the 909 in So Cal, but we won't be too hard on her for that. Moveitfred would stand naked at home plate and let Taryne throw screwballs off his nads if it meant he could take one of those umpire brushes and tidy her uniform after 7 innings.

Heywood Gets Caught "Growing Up"

Preparation-AL

Al, back from Feenix, prepares for his olympic tri.





Hello All. I'm back. I know Fred ("Man Who Stands With Boy-sized Feather")is down and out with a double ear infucktion. Feel better Freddy!! I'm feeling a bit shitty too after the trip. But I think I'll be fine.

I have the Health Net Olympic Tri saturday. I feel I am well trained for this event (as well trained as one can be this early in the season). I could tell that I am peaking during a spin workout Fred and I did last week. It was an interval workout that laddered up with longer and longer intervals. I felt myself getting stronger and raring to go as we progressed--a sure sign that I am chomping at the bit in this pre race taper. One point of concern, though, was the limited amount of open water swimming I have been able to do for this race. Most swim work has been pool work (even with the wetsuit, it is tough to do much open water this early on). I got in one swim in the open last week. Today I went and just practiced water to bike transitions in the suit:
I went down to the ocean (colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra doing pushups in the snow in Antarctica, I'll have you know). I would swim a 100 yd triangle than dash from the water to my "transition area" de-suiting as I ran. I did about 10 repeats of this until I felt like the kinks were worked out.

I've ridden a good deal and feel bike ready. I'm a bit nervous about equipment. Mostly it is the tires that freak me a bit. I've not changed a tubular.



I probably should have practiced that but... Well, I've got a spare tubular, I've got an air gun and some CO2s. We shall see... And, worst case scenario, I'll enlist the help of my good friend, DNF.

I'm not going to make any time predictions nor set any specific time goals. All goals are effort/pace based. Here's why...I do not know the course. Also the distances--even though it is an "Olympic"--vary from race to race a bit and the transition areas are not all standard distances from course and on standard terrains (I've gone through sand, gravel, dirt, grass etc to get to a transition, and I've gone anywhere from 50 to 250 or more yards too.) Here's my plan: I'm going to try to go off mid pack with the swim. This should prevent the beating, biting, shoving, flogging that happens near the front with the REAL DOUCHEBAGS and it should keep me from swimming over the people who position themselves at the rear due to weakness on the swim. In the middle I'll take some bumping and shoving and swim over a few but it shouldn't be too extreme. I plan to "feel out" the swim course (chop/current/temp/crowd etc.) and just try to remain in good form at a good effort level--my mantra: stay long, press my T, turn on the long axis from the hips, extend extend extend.




I then want a quick exit and easy out of the suit into the shoes and onto the bike. I am not one of those guys who leaves the shoes on the pedals. I just don't dig running in socks and trying to get my feet into pedaled shoes. So my transition will be a bit longer here. I was quick last time though. And I just whip on shirt and socks/shoes--I swim/bike/run in the same tri bottom. (That's right, Bad Ass AL is doing 40k on the bike with no chamois...can anyone say "saddle sores"?) On the bike I, again, want to feel out the course. I've got pace/cadence and effort goals in my mind. And I've got some form things for me to focus on with my posture/back position/foot position in the downstroke and upstroke/ upper body position on the bars etc. Once off the bike, it is an easy transition into the run. {I should also mention that I got and really like the x wing on the back of the bike...makes racking the bike really easy.} Off with the bike shoes, on with the sneaks and hat and off we go.



I am MUCH more comfy predicting run times/pace. I'm setting in my mind some predicitions or goals in the course is indeed flat and fast, if transition is easy, if winds are low etc. I've got variables figured for eventualities. I'm going to carry 4 or 5 gels. One of which has caffeine. This one I'll jack right near the end (3 miles left on the run). If I do it any earlier, I fear the mad crash that I get from caffeine. (I was looking for those energy jelly beans to try. Anyone ever use them? Good?) Anyway, that's the story. If you've got anything inspiration-AL or education-AL, share it now. More to report after the race.

Peace, Love, Harmony with the Moon, the Sun, Trees, and Piss-Clams,
--AL ("One Who Stands With Elephant Trunk")

Al Asks For More Coffee At Work

AlBtrauma

So Moveitfred still felt like simmered caca this morning and made an appointment with Dr. Feelgood to try to get a handle on this poison racing through his body. Moveitfred's symptoms? Lethargy and lack of motivation (both very common daily occurrences for Moveitfred) coupled with searing pain and bloating from the neck up.

Doc did the detailed probe and came to the conclusion that Moveitfred has a double ear infection along with severe barotrauma. Now this second piece of the diagnostic puzzle is a new one for Moveitfred, and with his plugged Eustachian tubes he thought he heard the doc say "AlBtrauma." Moveitfred immediately sat bolt upright on the crinkly-paper exam table and screamed, "Yes! Definitely AlBtrauma, doc! Moveitfred just spent three whole days listening to that douchebag yammer on and on and on. Tell Moveitfred he didn't cause permanent damage, will ya doc..."

Doc didn't say much other than to give Moveitfred a scrip for Zithromax and an escort out the front door.

Phoenix Fun

No, Moveitfred will not succumb to the boorishly "clever" trick of playing with the Ph/F letter combo in the title. Al and freddy just got back from Phoenix, and they had fun. Fuck you.

Moveitfred is also in a piss-poor mood today not only just because he came back home to a shitload of ridiculous emails from work, but his head is also swimming in congestion from the constant up/down bullshit of a cross-country Southwest flight. Moveitfred's upper ENT plumbing went haywire on approach into Chicago, and today it feels like his melon is going to pop.

But enough of Moveitfred. Back to the bicoastals lavish stay in Phoenix.

Al and freddy were sent on a mission of mercy to the Valley of the Sun by the factory in order to kickstart and bring home some new production methodology through meetings with our colleagues in the Southwest. This is, of course, a fancy way of saying the two bicoastals went on vacation.

With a pounding headache and mucous running from his nostrils and into his mouth, Moveitfred is going to cut the two full days of grueling work bullshit from this post and skip right to the fun. Boss, if you're reading this, the bicoastals did however put in two full days of mentally exhausting and physically draining work before busting out the vacation stick and slapping each other in the ass with it.

So this past Saturday the bicoastals opened with a killer desert run through the searing heat north of Scottsdale. They found their way to a spectacular area called Pinnacle Peak, laced up the trailrunner kicks, and shoved a few fat tourists aside as they burned through the Sonoran landscape.

As the bicoastals were rehydrating and gaining their senses back at the end of the run they were approached by two ASU hotties (and Moveitfred is referring to the gathering heat of the noonday sun, of course) who were filming a piece on desert exercise and hydration for college TV. The bicoastals were sized up (so to speak) by the film crew and deemed obvious experts on desert fitness and survival. Al, being the MUCH more photogenic bicoastal (yes, Heywood, including you), was chosen for the on-camera segment, while freddy lurked around in the shadows snapping compromising pics of the event.

The suave Al Bangorhard was both polished and striking in front of the camera, appearing as if broadcast journalism was his profession. Complex questions from blondie like "How much water does that pack hold?" and "How long are you in town?" did not faze the inscrutable Al B. He hammered out strong, clear answers with the poise and sophistication of Cary Grant, or someone like that. In fact, Al came off as quite the expert. See, Al has never been to the desert in his fucking life, yet when Blondie opened with "Do you come here often?" Al was quick on the draw and completely convincing when he replied, "Why yes, this is my regular desert run, hon."


Here we see Al getting drilled (so to speak) by Blondie, while pert brunette looks on.


And here we see the trio pose for a group shot (so to speak). freddie has never seen Al with such a wide, sparkling grin on his puss.

Following this adventure the bicoastals hopped in the rental car and headed up the I17 to Sedona. There the battered bicoastals took on the red rock canyon wilderness and hiked deep into a slot canyon where Al got all spiritual and started chanting and raising his arms to "our Mother, our creator--the earth."










That was all fine with Moveitfred, but when Al proposed we "bare ourselves" to our mother in a wilderness sweat lodge ceremony freddy suggested an about-face to the car.























On the way back the boys spooked a gang of wild swine from the bushes. With lightning fast reflexes, Al sprang forward and grabbed one of the peckers by its haunches, but it swung around and sank its tusks into his forearms. No telling how Al explained the puncture wounds to his wife.


In the end the bicoastals hit up Mamacita's roadside mex for some big platters of carne asada and enchiladas before heading back down to the metro area.

The following day the bicoastals got the early flight out of Sky Harbor for the long trip back to civilization. On the first leg the bicoastals sat across from this douche:



Now, take in the complete baggery of this douche in his full glory and then let's talk a bit about the tat, shall we? A lightning bolt behind the ear with two teardrops trickling out from the source?



You fucking badass, you.



Moveitfred thinks Douchie here is working off the threat of Southwest gangland murder in this pussy little creation. Course the authentic vatos wear the tat tears as notice of the rivals they have deposited into pine boxes. Sir Douchebag here probably recalled the two armadillos he flattened on the way to a motorhome convention in Albuquerque and wanted to try to impress his squaw wife with a badboy image. Sorry Douchebag, the Bicoastals don't buy your shit.



Well, the eastern contingent of bicoastals are now tucked home safe in their northeast abodes, safe from the ravages of heat, hardscrabble landscape, and the temptations of sun-leathered hotties.

Al and freddy are alright tonight.

Happy Holiday!

What a magnificent Memorial Day it was. Family always comes first. The wife decide to go on a ride with some Doctor to help get her mind right. Being the nice man that Heywood Jablome is, he offered to take the dogs swimming at the river while Mrs. Jablome was out enjoying the holiday. Water was perfect. Cool, calm, and hopefully free of semen. There was this couple about 100 yards upstream of Wood and the dogs going at it. Now when Wood says going at it, he means going at it. Right there for the entire world to see. So he did what ever self-respecting man should do, watched the whole thing. Who needs DVD’s when you can go to the river and see it live? Sorry Al, no pictures of this.

After the exercise with the dogs, it was now Heywood’s turn to get on the bike. The local bike skills park is where you could find Wood and the gang (Big Cat, Chef, and the German immigrant. $2 was the cost to get into this newly designed park in Folsom CA. There is still much work to be done there but it is off to a good start. With Wall rides, skinnies, and a few very small jumps, these guys where as happy as flies on shit.


The German Immigrant










Big Cat

The Chef

What wet dreams are made of

While living in God’s country for just over three months, Wood has only been aboard his road bike just a handful of times. This normally would be no big deal but Wood’s got plans. He signed up to partake in the Death ride this year. For those of you who are clueless about this ride, it is 128 miles and 15,000+ feet of elevation gain. Heywood is right on pace to get a DNF at this rate.

So Sunday, Heywood had his sight set on exploring some of the beautiful roads surrounding God’s country. With map in hand, Wood was on his way. While climbing the first assent of the day, he encountered an old geezer by the name of Warren. What started off as a pleasant hello turned into a 30 mile love affair with the streams of asphalt road that traverse the countryside. Wood has wet dreams about roads that snake their way through California’s golden hills. These roads are only whispered about in dark alleys. Here was the chance of a lifetime to shut up and learn.

For the next 30 miles, no words were spoken from Heywood’s lips as he sat back and took notes. This old geezer knew all the secrets and he was willing to share his knowledge with a flatlander from S-town. Climbs with names like Baxter Grade, Chili Hill, Bald Hill, and Mt. Vernon kicked the ass of Wood just the way he dreamed of. Up and down, left and right. It is true; heaven does exist here on Earth.

After 30 miles the tour with Warren was over. Wood rode to the Chef’s house. Needed someone to share the newly found knowledge with. So now it was Wood’s turn to take a newbie on a tour of ecstasy lasting about 30 miles. What a day.

Jokes on me

On Friday, Heywood, Big Cat, Lil Cat, and the Chef decided to drive up the boulevard and ride some miles near the crest of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. The trail of choice was “Hole in the Ground” which starts near the summit of Donner Pass. Only question was is this trail physically possible this early on in the year. Usually the answer would be a hell no! But, with the lack of snowfall this year in the California mountains, could be feasible.

So Saturday, while Heywood Jablome was at the bike shop building up a kid’s bike and fine tuning his own steed, he started to ask some people at the shop if they had any input on the situation. "I don't know, maybe," was the consensus until one meek voice spoke up. "Yes, you can do it. I just did it last week. Almost no snow to speak of. You should try it." What the heck Wood thought, that’s a good suggestion. We will attempt it.

Two hours later, the four men were wedged into Wood’s commuter vehicle and headed up the hill to conquer this trail. After driving for one hour we arrived at our destination in high spirits and energized to hit the trail. Things started off well until mile three when the boys encountered our first patch of snow. No big deal. Just a little snow. It was a short hike-a-bike until the next patch of snow. Then the next. Then the next. You get the point. Walk 50 feet, ride 50 feet. This is three miles into the ride and there was still 20 miles left. What the hell. Was that guy at the bike shopping setting us up? That SOB pulled a fast one on the boys from God's country and is probably sitting around some campfire with his friends and family laughing about it right now. Crap.

The only option was to retreat back to the safety of Heywood's gas guzzling SUV and head to another trail. After a quick brainstorm, another trail was chosen and off we were. The new trail was nice, technical and a joy to be on. The elevation killed both the Cat Brothers and Wood but did not seem to affect the Chef. Got in only about 15 miles that day but what an adventure it was.

After the nice ride, we encountered a

Japanese tourist at the trailhead. This guy had a lens on his camera that was as long as my head tube. His family probably invented the camera as we know it. Couldn’t imagine another person more fit to take a picture of us after our ride. Looks like the boys are taking it in the ass once again.

If You Had Fun, You Won!

This was the slogan plastered on the backs of the t-shirts worn by participants at freddy's kids' school rally/competition day.

Forget failed domestic policies, deteriorating foreign affairs, obesity, low test scores, and terrorists.

This slogan signals the beginning of the end of the United States of America.

Coming Clean

Well, now it seems that Lance and Moveitfred are the only two cyclists left who have never done the dirty.

But Moveitfred is going to change all that with the first Friday night circuit race.

Timeout

Bloggers, wouldn't it be great to spend a little time away? Isn't everyone longing for some R & R? How about a trip to a pleasant, warm locale? To a sparkling resort? With a few pools, a spa, tennis, nearby golf, delectable dining?




And to have a spacious, well-appointed suite to relax in with, say, a jacuzzi, fireplace, killer sound system, kitchen?




What about, oh for example, Scottsdale, Arizona? Sure, a little warm these days, but it's a dry, healthy, cleansing heat. Wouldn't that just be the nines?

If Moveitfred could only pull off something like this. But, alas, he has no money for such a fabulous escape. He can only dream...

Juxtaposition

Congratulations to all the graduates around this great land of ours. May you live long and prosper.



Oh, and just for the hell of it, here's someone from Italian TV.

Wood is alive.

These last few weeks have been an absolute waste of time for Heywood with regards to cycling. This last week has been the worst. Heywood found himself at work Monday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. That adds up to 120 hours at work this week. Monday was for a little extra spending cash for Mrs. Jablome while Saturday and Sunday were shift trades with another factory worker.

For Wood’s two days at home, he was hoping to spend copious amount of time atop his two-wheeled machine while ascending the mountains of God’s country. As with most of Wood’s well designed plans, shit happens. Tuesday morning started out as a glorious day with an abundance of rays from the local star shinning upon the hills. The plan, Big Cat was coming over to Heywood’s casa to pick him up and then the two of them shall drive to the brand new mountain bike skills course in the City off Folsom. This park has it all: three different elevated skinnies to ride, jump park, rhythm section and much more. Heywood and Big Cat were going to tear it up like two kids with not a worry in the world. Afterwards, the two riders were going to pick up the Chef and hit the trails for a short 25 mile ride. As Big Cat was driving down Wood’s driveway, the phone began to ring loudly. “Hello.” Shit. Someone in this great state of California was lost and a request was made for Heywood and his dog to join the other dog teams and locate the lost individual. Sorry Big Cat, ride is off for this day. So away we went. After a long afternoon and night, the lost person was found, not by Wood, but found none the less.

So Wednesday found Wood and the Chef on the road bike for about 45 miles. The two gained a few thousand feet while climbing to the town of Colfax just up the road. Traffic was light and the sun was bright. Heywood was just happy to get out on the bike for the first time this week. Thursday was back to the grind for the next four days. Please, let us all pray together that more time will be available next week for riding and contributing this blog.

The Wednesday day ride was supposed to include Big Cat but he was unable to attend due to the fact that his wife’s water broke. The flood gates were wide open and it was time to take her to the hospital. 30 hours later, Big Cat was the proud father of a little pussy cat. Congrats.

These first few days at work have been very busy for Wood. Wood imagines that this is what it feels like to get bent over and punished. Please, don’t ever let the boys go to prison.

inconsolab-AL

"Oh Heywood, Heywood, wherefore art thou Heywood?"

Al, saddened by the loss of his amigo, Heywood, asks the ever important question:

GOT WOOD?!!!!

Commute

Mrs. Moveitfred has got the yearnin' to commute to work on a regular basis, so Moveitfred and the Mrs. went on a venturous exploration of routefinding this morning to find the way to go and back. After unceremoniously dropping the kids off at the neighbor's house for pancakes and cartoons, the freds were off. Chilly, chilly morning with some lingering showers moving through, but after a warmup it was simply lovely, y'all.

Mrs. Moveitfred is lucky in that her route to work takes in some of the most scenic roads in the area. She starts by skirting by our millpond and then heads through some rolling hills into Stony Brook Village.


From there it's a right turn past another pond and grist mill and through the rolling harbor hills where, after about 5 miles of the best cycling road on Long Island, the road dumps out into Smithtown. From there some roundabout skirting through your standard-issue, middle-class, Scott's turfbuilder neighborhoods and the Mrs. is at work. The freddys flipped a Uie and headed for home with a quick stop for some joe at the Stony Brook pear.

The Mrs. is amplituded up over the route and is planning the full-blown dive into the cyclo-commute next week.

1989 Party

Moveitfred don't know shit about what's going on in Malibu right now, but he does know that this here weren't no fahking circus sideshow.

This is all about a bunch of guys doing 90k down a mt in the rain in order to wear a colored jersey.

Both the bikes and balls were steel in those days.

WithdrawAls

This morning Moveitfred got himself all amped up on Fourbucks and headed down to the south shore of our little island paradise to bang out a ride with Al Keholic



and Al Bangorhard.



What a couple of characters those guys are, showing up for a bicycle ride in nerd wear and skirts. Oh well, Moveitfred has as big a sense of humor as anyone and, despite being revolted and embarrassed, he laughed along with the gang and lead out the ride from the House of Kreb.

An all around good ride, although Al B's shirt kept getting tangled up in the rear wheel causing him to drop off the pace once or maybe twice. Halfway through the trio met up with Steve, The Magic Man, formed a solid foursome paceline, and pounded on home. Great day for a ride here on the island with plenty of lingering clouds passing through to keep things cool. At the end of it all the boys ordered up some horrific Chinese down the street and washed down the slop with diet beverages. Is there any better way to end a hard ride?

Earlier in the week Moveitfred spent the entire day with Al Bangorhard, blowing off a shift at the factory in order to "explore" the doings of a factory a bit west of the boys. Well, both fred and Al felt no need to rush over to this other plant and so they met up at Al's favorite little bike circuit and pounded out a few laps and uphill sprints. After Al blacked out on a final sprint the boys packed up, took care of business at the other shop, and then managed to fill up the rest of their work day at a pub. Is there any better way to spend a day at work?

Tonight Moveitfred's very young daughter will school him into submission at the local pool. Afterwards Moveitfred will draw a warm bubble bath, shave his legs, and then settle into a nice, comfy chair with some warm tea.

genit-ALs

Bowen NOT suspended for this knee to the Nash 'nads.

appeAL?

“I don't think that offer justified a response”