This weekend a bunch of bike racers went to Astoria. At the time it seemed like fun. But now that I’ve been reading the internet it sounds like it was mostly miserable, and I just remembered it wrong. For me, it comes down to this simple relaization: I’m happy to spend time with people who drink beer, but I think I’d rather spend less time with the people who talk about drinking beer. At some point, drinking beer should be a thing that you do, rather than a thing that ...

It’s Tuesday, so I’m sure that both of you have already scoured the internet for all of the race reports and photos. Blah blah blah… a hill… blah blah blah… then everyone stopped for a little log… blah blah blah… horse poop… blah blah blah. Personally, I’m still reeling from the race last week, because Dawn got to meet Will Shortz and all I got to do was ride around in the dirt. Will Fucking Shortz. The puzzle master. It got me thinking that not-racing is maybe the best thing ...

Blind Date at the Dairy is a new cyclocross series at Alpenrose. While many people are excited that it is in the dark, I’m excited that it is cheap. With all of that money I save racing cheaper races, I can get all jacked up on Double Soy Breve Caramel Mochiatochinos from the new McCafe at McDonalds. I also like it because the fields are not 120 people thick, so my chances of lower than 100th place are substantially reduced. Not impossible. But unlikely. Luckily, the Single Speed race wasn’t dark. ...

The Hood River Double Cross weekend in Hood River had both good parts and bad parts. The bad parts were the parts where I had to ride my bike in circles around the school as fast as possible. Those parts were bad because they made me feel awful. Physically and emotionally. The good parts were all of the other parts of the weekend. The parts when I was not on my bike. The parts when I was eating tacos and pizza. Those parts were amazing. Tacos and pizza are amazing. Day ...

Even though I describe my off-road nature-riding as “mountain biking” with quote-fingers, to make it clear that I know that what I am doing can barely be referred to as such, the Short Track race series at PIR is, hands down, my favorite bicycle race. And that’s because it’s not really mountain biking. It’s kinda just messing around. On a motocross course. On a mountain bike. Near my house. A perfect race for goofballs, but not in an annoying cyclocross kind of way. These factors truly play to my skill set ...

When I’m not busy worrying about the swine flu pandemic or the collapse of our delicately balanced financial system, I like to kick back with tall boy and worry about volcanoes. And I’ve just learned that we’re living on a SUPER VOLCANO. What’s the difference between a regular volcano and a super volcano, you ask? Easy. Super volcanoes have awesome names. Tabor? Meh. KRAKATOA? Super. Apparently they built Mt. Saint Helens (meh) right on top of another volcano named CHAOS DOOMEGATRON (super). Just like that movie Poltergeist where they built ...

As road season winds down, I am finding myself stumped on what to say about it. Early season races arrived with a multitude of joke potential, but at this point I can find little to report on except that I went to a race, rode in some physically taxing circles, and then went home and enjoyed an ice cream cone in a post race stupor. I can’t even come up with any witty lies and exaggerations! So, in order to not have to include any actual bike racing details in ...

The only racing I did this weekend was the Corndog-organized Chickenball Run. The race was equal parts bike riding and pinball. But more than that, it was a benefit race to raise money for Chicken who needs some kind of medical procedure related to Avian Flu. Which is like Pig Flu. But for poultry. Which we did. But I think we may have somehow upset the cosmic balance of the universe, because we killed Dom DeLuise. Who had Pig Flu, I think. Which is like Avian Flu. But for washed ...

The race started out well matched and fast paced: Sam Nicoletti and I both attended the Eugene Roubaix, even going so far as to get a ride in the same van. We both observed all the glories that rural Oregon hatched up for us this fine day. We both put on spandex and rode around in large circles competitively. Then, at the end, we both kicked it in big ring and got ready to blog about it. You see I am not much of an internet surfer. Sometimes I check some ...

Kings Valley is a town founded by lazy people. I discovered this by searching the internet, which is the primary source of information for lazy people. If I had what old people call “gumption,” I would go to the historical society and try to learn more about it. But that sounds time consuming. You know, going through books. Flipping pages. Reading. This is what old people call “effort,” to which teenagers will often reply “meh.” I’d rather just find something on the internet while I’m working and take this information ...