The Bonebell » Sumthin

Alterra No Dice

Stiggity — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 03:40:22 +0000

Race #7 on the WORS calendar, the Alterra Coffee Bean Classic has been CANCELLED.

They are working on rescheduling, but no word on that date at this time. Nevada Dave and Stiggity were all cracked out and chomping on the bit at the thought of a run for the border. But the flooded Root River has changed our plans. Instead, we’ll see you on the trails on Sunday.

If the rain holds out.

Farmer John

El Maya — Sun, 11 Jul 2010 19:37:46 +0000

I’ve not had a good run of summer racing – albeit, I haven’t done much racing other than selecting epic distances and mashing my way through the conditions with the simple intention of finishing strong. I’m definitely missing something in my groove and now faced with mid-July doldrums, I believe I will call it call quits in chasing the epic dragon that has eluded me this year. I’m looking forward to the 40-60 minutes of pain on grassy park courses – and even then, I believe I will be more enthused to just being able to hang out with all of the fine people in Chicago and beyond.

I had a friend. A great friend, and one that I sincerely attempt to recollect in every small thing that I do and any instance I feel that I may have failed at something. He and I shared three years together in high school, in lunchtime solace where I’d walk with him to the lunchroom get our lunches, and then sit in a classroom quietly unbothered by the noon hour melee of the student body. We’d share our then teenage lives and give each other inspiration for the years ahead of us – this would prove to be an incredible friendship. Peter Michael Lazar, was his name, and he quietly passed away in October of 1999 from Muscular Dystrophy. He would roll the hallways in high school in his electric powered wheelchair as I walked besides him, sometimes even hitching a ride on his chair in good whim. I ran track, cross-country, and swam in High School, and he’d remind me how awesome it is to be active and to never forget that I’m blessed to be able to use my limbs. This was a profound thought and sentiment from a dear friend, and one that I cherish within the activities that I do.

I’ve found myself lately in that mentally tough position where I’m disheartened by putting out great efforts to come out with less than great results due to issues that I haven’t experienced before. I gave it a go at the Lumberjack 100 and backed out due to some stomach issues, and just yesterday, at the Insane Terrain Challenge in Wisconsin, a 121 mile endeavor conquering 12,400 feet of climbing was again hampered, ending at mile 95 in a SAG (support and gear vehicle) wagon back to the finish line. The cause was the same, stomach distress that gave me a very tough and embarassing time trying to keep things controlled and moving forward towards to the goal line. Something I’m doing in combination with the heat distress, or with my nutrition is crying foul and forcing me to re-think how I’m approaching endurance racing. It’s never really been an issue until this summer, and perhaps – it is a lesson to take seriously and rejoin the calm. The funny part is that last week in the overcome joy I had being able to ride Palos, I had taken a good dive on the trails that sprained my ankle. I spent this previous week icing and wrapping my ankle – and thankfully, the ankle wasn’t an issue at all during the ride. Whew.

Through the rough experience however – I had a great experience climbing the hills of Blue Mounds and ridiculous good tempos when I was able to do so – and even more so happy to have found the good grace of the gentlemen who I’ll call ‘Farmer John’ from Country Road B. It was mile 88 and a kind friend had been riding alongside me keeping my motivation going to keep the pedals turning. The issue wasn’t necessarily the strength, or the lungs, but any exertion that caused some serious stomach distress. I was concerned I was going to have to ditch into the cornfields and re-validate some ancestral leanings and learn the joys of corn husks. Instead, I opted to find a decent looking farmhouse and ask desperately for the use of a commode, be it an in or out-house, I needed relief, stat. My friend Jeffery Thomas, and I, scoped out a nice white picket fenced farmhouse, beautiful in its setting and surrounded by the fields of luscious green bounty. We rolled up to the house, and were greeted by several large dogs, all of good breeding but definitely on the defense of this fine home. Had the dogs made an attempt to come after me – I’d surely would’ve been back at Option Z of which was my last resort. There, within a minute, ‘Farmer John’ came out in his trucker cap and rubber boots (yes, it was 85 degrees outside and he was wearing rubber boots) and greeted us.
Apparently I was too stunned to talk as my friend proceeded to introduce us and ask him if his sick cycling friend could use his commode. ‘Farmer John’ was very happy to oblige and pointed the way to me.

It was a glorious commode.

Air conditioned, pristine, and full of country love that I almost didn’t want to leave for the day.

I finished my business and I thanked ‘Farmer John’ profusely for helping me out. I continued the trek on to the next rest stop at mile 95. There, unfortunately, things weren’t getting better and after the self evaluation, I decided to get me back home in one piece and without further incident. I was bummed, saddened, and debilitated. However, the SAG wagon had two other Chicagoans in the car, a couple. The girlfriend was attempting to do the shorter distance trek of the Insane Terrain Challenge – the 75 mile route. She was definitely done for the day as I observed her telling body language. Her boyfriend furthered that thought when he said she had only done about 20 miles not too long prior to this event. I was unsure how to take the dynamic of that relationship and had visions of my wife divorcing me had I conned her into doing something of this nature. It made me smile – but so did my thoughts back to Peter Michael Lazar. Despite not completing the whole challenge – I looked down at my legs and my arms and said a silent “thank you” to the universe, I was grateful to have been able to straddle a bike at all.

Thank you Peter.

Dirty Tuesday News

The Bonebell — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 20:21:09 +0000

There’s a technical term for a sunny, warm day which follows two rainy days. It’s called Monday. – Unknown

<insert “wah wah waaaaaahhh” here>

Despite the rainy weather, folks have been able to get to Illinois’ largest state park, Wisconsin, to race the Subaru Cup which is the Midwest’s largest and only Pro XCT race in the area. This gave many racers and fans alike to view the national big dogs come out and duke it out on the various courses provided by Mt. Morris. Short Track, Super-D, and Cross Country challenges gave a little something to everyone to participate in. On the line was the title for the Midwest Champion of the Cup Series. The Bonebell tolls for “Holly Klug” who wrangled in a top 5 finish in the Womens Cat 1 field! Peruse some pretty awesome photos of the event by Chicago dirtbag photographer extraordinaire, Amy Dykema, here.

CAMBr Needs You!
With all the rain that has besieged our poor trails – the need for volunteers is greatly appreciated for Trail Work Days. Downed trees, mudded trails, lost paths, and debris are all things the trail crews have to contend with to make the trails smooth for riding when they become dry. Consider a weekend or two or three to contribute some time to and of course make new friends in the dirtbag community. Trail Work Days can be found on our calendar here and directly from CAMBr here. While you’re at it – consider becoming a member as your dollars go a long way to help buy tools and resources to keep the maintenance going strong!

Pump It Up!
Ever try a pump track? Curious about what it is? Well – for all the old school BMXers out there, here is a great opportunity to test your skills against other riders in an actual race format within the city limits! Join CAMBr West for a full day of activities to highlight ‘The Garden‘. Spectating is FREE of charge – so come on by and check out the city’s only dirt bike park on July 31st. Registered entries will receive a T-Shirt commemorating the event – snazzy too!

CX Clinic for Women
Half Acre Cycling has Cyclocross Clinic being led by Kristin Wentworth, pro CX racer! This event is limited to 50 participants, so consider registering early to ensure your spot despite it being way out in September – we’ll gladly remind you fine dirtbags about it.

Millee-Wok-Kay
So who’s up for going to Ray’s in Milwaukee this fall? Oh expect some winter madness to bound in again, Illinois largest state park capital. {Sorry Cheddar heads, can’t resist – but thanks for Ray’s man!}

Hendrix – get us through this rainy weather…

Rolling Thunder

El Maya — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 19:33:48 +0000

The Bonebell Crew made it out to Manistee, MI to race the Lumberjack 100 alongside some fellow Chicagoans and Michigan friends. Stiggity is drumming up a race report for all to read – he’s good like that, unfortunately for me, I have no real race to report since I met my demise early on in the race and couldn’t complete it. Such is the difficult task of race preparation, race planning, and day of race tactics to combine and formulate success that the failure of a few items can definitely ruin a good effort. I was seriously bummed and heartbroken over the amount of training I put in, the hours in the saddle, the half-days of work to get hours in the saddle, and planning for the race that didn’t come to fruition the day of the race. Luckily for me, the race was also start of my family vacation, and it meant one week away from the Chicago downtown chaos, a computer (well mostly of course!), and my phone which decided to take a power dump and fail its way the same weekend of the race, perhaps in tribute to me. The positives will always outweigh the negatives – and one great positive I had in my mind as I sat in a foldable chair under the tent awaiting for Nevada Dave to bring home the Chicago glory at 7 hours and 57 minutes for 100 miles – was that I was going to spend a lot of quality time with my family who’d cheer me up greatly despite the outcome. I sat calmly and let the thoughts of a restful week of cold beer, sandy beaches, and no biking play through my head and started placing the race behind me immediately. A ‘DNF’ is not something any racer takes lightly – and moreso when its a target race, but a week of Bells will most likely erase that shameful feeling.

It seems even on vacation the storms still brew. Only this time, I don’t care less. The western Michigan coast received some brutal storms, but with the protection of the dunes nearby, and the beauty of the nearby forest preserves, the lightning, and the howl of the wind have brought about a beautiful calm and fiery night show that has been cathartic to watch. There, in the storm, hides a struggle of peace and the brute force of nature’s personalities. The weather’s struggle to reach this summer day perfection that becomes evident if for glimpses at a time, and with great luck a few days of gentle warmth with breezy air. It’s what we wait for – like impatient children that we are with knobbies at the ready, and helmets in hand, waiting for that perfect day to perform our little feats for no one but ourselves and with each other. Ahh- yes, the beers have been good to me this week.

So good in fact, that my father-in-law and I visited a local bike shop, and there she was hanging from the rafters, in my size, this. The sickness moves on, getting back up and dusting myself up ready for another trail attack feels evident. I look to my father-in-law, and I smile, and he responds simply with – “it looks badass!”. Yes, it does, and so are the dreams to keep on keeping on the dirt, working towards the goal of being the best I wanna be. Thank you Sara and Mia for cheering me up and a special shout out to my father-in-law who has been very cool hanging out with sharing good times with me, I have no idea what day it is and my socks say “Beer:30″ because its always time for a beer.

Ripping It Up…and Off?

Julia Goolia — Sat, 19 Jun 2010 17:41:57 +0000

I’m fired up. I did my own ripping, literally, last Monday on the first day of vacation. I was out west in Utah and within the first hour of the ride managed to navigate onto a trail beyond my capabilities. Soon thereafter, wham! Knee v. Rock. A trip to the ER and nine stitches later I was relegated to hiking the rest of my time out west. Rock: 1, Knee: 0.

After returning to Chicago, the disappointment continued when I found the following video online. This little teaser is a preview of a DVD coming out this fall that chronicles the making of the CYCLEPASSION calendar, featuring two prominent and successful professional US racers, Heather Irmiger and Willow Koerber. I hesitate to post the video lest more people view it, but here it is:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Now, let’s clarify that Heather Irmiger and Willow Koerber are adults and have the right to make their own choices. But why was this the decision?? “Select group of elite women cyclists,” “Slip into something a little more comfortable”?? Please. As a woman, I am always disappointed when I see other women choosing to objectify themselves in this way. But the fact that these women are professional mountain bikers is even more disappointing. What type of message does this send to amateur women mountain bikers (and other cyclists for that matter), particularly young ones? I’ve heard the argument before that dressing like a stripper is “empowering” for women. I must be missing something, because last time I checked this objectification of women is exactly the type of thing feminists have been fighting against since well before the women in this video (and myself) were born. Do we see male cyclists posing in provocative calendars? No, of course not. Because for men, being athletic is sexy. The two are not mutually exclusive. How would we know that the women in these photos were professional cyclists, were it not for the token bicycle in some of the photos? We wouldn’t. And that is precisely why this calendar and DVD are so insulting to female cyclists.

If you aren’t convinced, please check out Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture, by Ariel Levy. You might also consider your mothers, sisters, friends, partners and daughters who ride (or don’t) and whether or not you would support them representing themselves in this way.

Brown County Beat Down

Stiggity — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 11:40:26 +0000

With an impromptu last minute invitation to hit up what bike magazine has called some of the best trails in the world, there was not much more than a second thought involved in saying yes. Seegs and Stiggity motored down to Brown County State Park for what we hoped would be a two day 10+ hour mini dirt fest. We arrived in the rain and minus the sense of elation we thought we would feel upon setting tread on new trail we were off. The elation began to rise as we entered the canopy. Thick cover from the leaves overhead kept us from getting soaked. Mucked up a little but still far from rideunable, we entered the Brown County Trail from the best side. The first section of trail was one of the best that we rode all day. Downhill in both directions with flowing corners that just begged you to plant the outside leg and inside hand. Carving big ring through the trees, it was exactly why we escaped occupied Chicago in search of dirt. We went to the right place. The second trail intersection that we came required a decision. We could turn left on the nothing but green Hoosier rain slick rocks as far as we could see, and two black diamonds, or continue on Twisty McFlowsalot for more high speed madness. You can call us whatever you want for not taking the double d trail in foul weather with xc bikes…We were there for miles, not hang time and broken collarbones, so we pedaled on. I will admit to feeling sour about it at the time, but we’ll be back the riding really lived up to the expectations that were laid down. The trail system is more than 30 miles, and can be ridden a hundred different ways. We rode straight north, taking the longest section of each loop on the way up. On the way down we rode the short section that we missed, and then the corresponding long section again. Closing in on hour 4, Seegs blew a spoke on his rear wheel in between a double log crossing. Thanks to the tool who spent the car ride south, despoking a wheel, we just happened to have extra spokes lying around. In between the seats, under the floormat, in the glove box. Those 64 spokes went everywhere and the last place I thought one of them would go was into another wheel. That was a big deal. Instead of a day spent looking for a bike shop, we put in a spoke and rode the next day.Before that we needed dinner. It got late by the time we rolled into town and started looking for some grub. Turns out it was to late. EVERYTHING food, except for Subway and McDonalds closed at 9. It was now 10, and that ended the option for a cold cut combo, so we had no choice but the Arches. After consuming 1kg of salt with our burgers, we slide into the local bar and caught the end of the Blackhawks winning game with a two man guitar tribute band in the background.

Day two and we slept in like a couple of dorks waiting for some cartoons. The smell of trails in the air finally roused us and we hoped in the car this time for a new treat “Nebo Ridge”. The Nebo Ridge trail is about 8 miles away from the state park, and holy @ #$# is it worth the drive, or ride as we should have done in the first place. The plan was to take Nebo, to the Hickory Ridge Trail system (45+miles of multiuse trails), and then back to the car on Nebo. Initially the first couple of minutes on Nebo were a little suspect. Hoof marks and some wet ground made for slow riding. As fast as it started the trail began to get better and better. And we climbed and climbed, for close to 10 minutes. Once we got to the top it was big ring ridge runnin for about six miles. At the southern end of the Nebo Trail, we headed towards the Hickory Ridge Trail section. A little turned around, we asked Larry the cable guy for directions (he really was a cable guy, the name is a guess) turns out the trail was just up ahead and as soon as it started we began to rethink the decision. With no way of knowing what trails are good or better for bikes we hoped on the first one we came across, and it was bombed out and bad. Hoofs everywhere in the mud and crud. The first dirt road we came to we decided to take it to another section of trail so we could get back and break camp. Shortly into the #9 trail, I felt the sudden panic of a stick in a wheel and I put the white knuckle deathlock grip on the brakes. Not before the derailleur was snaped off and thrown into the wheel. None of the tools in my back pack were of any use. The only thing in there worth it’s weight was a can of Bud Light. We promptly drained it’s contents, squashed it, and reinserted the container into the pack. No help for the bike, but man I felt a little bit better with my rig in pieces. Seegs, however, did have the necessary tools all in one handy Park tool that he got on clearance for $15 bucks. It was a great investment, as it respoked a wheel and converted me to singlespeed within a 24hour span. This single speed stuff is no fun when the chain won’t stay put. I’m not convinced it is when the chain does stay put, but the jury is still out on that one. So we limped back to the car took a shower and passed out in the sun with a Heineken in my hand waiting for Seegs to return from one last run on the Brown County System. I

t’s only 4 hours to paradise, I can’t wait to go back. A shout out to DaDoubleG who put a rabid wheelbiting badger hex on our trip. They came out in full force, breaking two spokes, one derailleur hanger, and snacking on an X.O derailleur. He was sad he couldn’t go so he got all unDerka with the badgers, and we suffered for it. Speaking of badgers, why cross the cheddar curtain? There are well over 100miles of singletrack options in the area, and a little beyond the area are even more trails to rail. If you go make sure you get into town before they put the place on lockdown, or you’ll be stuck somewhere between a golden arch and a gas station for dinner. Not sure about the rest of town, but the bar we watched the Hawks game at had last call before midnight. Fine with me, we were not there for the sauce, we were there for the dirt.

Muddy Monday News

The Bonebell — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 21:02:53 +0000

Howdy Kids – it’s f’ing raining again! And so it has been raining regularly which will hopefully mean that we’ll have one very elongated dirt riding season in Chicago through November at least, much like last year. So let’s look forward to the silver lining and enjoy what we can by way of some travel. Stiggity will be posting up soon about his recent shenanigans in Brown County. I’ve been hitting up the DesPlaines River trail as well, and it leaves much to be desired in way of technical stuff but at least its dirt and what little is there is decently rideable up until about certain areas where the mud eats you alive and you have to bail to the cinder trails. If you are growing weary of non-trail availability – consider working a trail day, supporting a CAMBr event, or re-discover the Illinois Prairie Path and the I&M Canal.

Re-Scheduling
The folks at CAMBR West were bringing us the Kona Demo Day along with Rapid Transit Cycle’s assistance. This was re-scheduled due to the foul weather, we’ll give you a heads up of when the next date is being scheduled.

It should be a blast considering how awesome the Red Bull Stomping Ground event was. We unfortunately were unable to attend this event due weekends of family travels but we have heard that the event was pretty sweet and it could’ve standed to see a lot more folks come out and enjoy some rad professional stunting. Get a load of some of the action here (and dig the Chicago skyline in the back!):

Settin’ Down Roots
Speaking of kickass events – it’s happening again with the ‘Setting Down Root’s event coming up July 31st from 12:00PM-6:00PM at ‘The Garden’. Race dirt track style, test your skills against other riders, and raise money and awareness for Chicago’s one and only dirt bike park. More details on what is being given away, suredly something from us for you!

Palos Meltdown
Registration Opened up on June 1st for CAMBr members. Non-members registration will open at the end of the month. It’s Race #6 of the Illinois Homegrown Race Series and is absolutely lauded as the World Championships of Trail Racing for Chicago.

Do It In the Dirt as a couple!
The closest thing to dirty hanky panky since Porky’s was released in 1982 – Cyclocross action comes to you super EARLY this year thanks to xXx Racing-AthletiCo at Jackson Park. Only this time – you get to tag a team member in to take on your competitors WWF style. There will be a co-ed event. Who cares what colors you fly – its time to start recruiting up your teammate to put the smackdown on the other duo teams. Speaking of which – who wants to be a Bonebell pardner? We do-si-do as good as the rest of them ya’hear!

Chicago Cyclocross Cup
Of course – with races already being schedule for the CX lovers out there – you should know by now what weekends you are telling your loved ones when they have to hold the slab of bacon and mini-kegs of Pabst for you in the fall. Point them here and ask kindly and ask for forgiveness now before you bring wet smelly sandy ass back home.

Damn – we got a lot going on. We’ll be posting some lengthy articles coming up during a well deserved break to highlight some stuff we’ve been meaning to tell ya about and keep you motivated to keep them knobbies dirty and delighted. Remember we love you when you ride knobbies.

Ladie’s Ride Part Deux…Oh Yeah!

Julia Goolia — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 04:48:01 +0000

This past Saturday marked the second in the series of ladies’ rides that myself and Half Acre have hosted. Miraculously, Palos was freshly dried out from those pesky thunderstorms we’ve been dealing with all spring. Given the holiday weekend, we weren’t sure what kind of turn out to expect. I rolled up at 9:30 to find a few women had already arrived-yes! By 10:30 we had a stellar turnout of 27 women. The morning began with brief introductions and a straw poll of everyone’s ability level. We split into two intermediate groups and one beginner group and hit the trails. I led the beginner group with my co-organizer/partner in crime Jen for their first (for most) taste of singletrack. Everyone rode well, but I must say I was most impressed with the youngest member of our group, who was 9 years old! Yes, folks, you’re reading that number correctly, 9. This particular young lady stuck to my wheel during the time I was leading our group. Apparently she was fresh off of riding up in Michigan the previous weekend, racking up 19 miles of trails while she was there. What an all-star!

After regrouping with everyone 2 hours later, our crew enjoyed a nice picnic lunch and some conversation to get to know each other better. On the whole a great day. A few snapshots of our event below. If you couldn’t make it out for this ride, we hope to see you on the next one!

Mother Nature Smackdown

El Maya — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 20:03:20 +0000

Let’s be honest – this isn’t new, different, or catastrophic in comparison to any other year in Chicago. We seemingly kid ourselves into believing that when its warm out and there’s sun out, we are trailbound, but instead we are ‘assfault’ bound. The tarmac has once again been the grim solace to spinning wheels for dirtbags. The racing season has started, and unless you’ve been fortunate and diligent to trek up beyond state to the regions where 1/2″ of rainfall doesn’t necessarily shut down an entire trail system – there has been little trail riding in Chicago as of late. The temperamental downpours have been disheartening as they seem to hit mid-week, late week, weekend and every other opportunity we may have slotted time for. I am not the least bit surprised that my attempt at ‘Hooky Wednesday’ dirt riding has been ill received by Mother Nature.

But you know what? I don’t care.

Recent events in Guatemala have definitely mellowed any spirit of enthusiasm over my eagerness to trail ride and hit the dirt – I love it so, but am humbled by the powerful forces that control the ebb and flow of our planet. Those natural forces will always be well timed and in tune to their own melody that will drown out any silly call for fun, when in nature, fun is strictly limited to time and space available within the eon slot given to us daily. I want to ride the trails badly, mostly for fun, and to ensure that I get my skills up to par for the upcoming Lumberjack 100. But the riding on the road and gravel concoctions have definitely kept me focused and on target and grateful that I have the ability to pedal my bike to begin with.

I spoke with various members of my family in the course of the past week and of course, thanks to the artificial force of the internet, was able to see pictures, audio, video in real time of what a truly torrential downpour is. The ones of ash that cover a city and suffocate the little drainage that existed in a 3rd world infrastructure. The ones of rains that push that heavy soot down streets that turn into raging rivers, and move with such a petulent force that five ton vehicles are merely floaty toys in its wake. The ones of such liquifying magnitude that decades of sediment and rotten engineering give way to what appeared to the twitterati and news crews of the world – a portal into the underworld.

I had given my best effort on Sunday, May 30th at the Half Acre and North Central Cyclery – Gravel Metric Century. I had a great sentiment inside of me thinking of family conversations over how volcanic ash and heavy rain caused some serious misery across the homeland. I wasn’t too pensive about the misery, but definitely said a little prayer to myself and as I always do quietly before the start of any race I do, I dedicated the effort to something personal. On this day, it just so happened to be for all of Guatemala. I think of how easy it was to drive out to DeKalb, enjoy the beautiful day with friends, and ride my silly bike fast. The comparison of what my cousins were doing – not being able to ride their bikes for what will be many weeks before anything is considered safe to ride on because the ground or water may simply sweep them away into oblivion. When the race was over, and the celebrations had passed among many deserved toasts of ale and friendships, I was in the car with Soupy and Nevada Dave when I got a call from my dad. He said a nearby river had grown tremendously and picked up great speed in what seemed like a few hours – and in its rapid rage, took down two bridges that lead to the family village. The first bridge that went down was just constructed one and half years ago – and it had been of itself, fifteen years in the making. The second bridge, was the original bridge that had been condemned for the past 20 years, yet, still stood and was still used by the locals – was destroyed by the remnants of the first bridge by what seemed a comical injustice to the 3rd world. My father was sad to relay the news to me knowing full well, despite whatever political might and saavy he had – to rebuild those bridges, would take another five years, at least.

I was quiet for a few days (hence no Dirty Tuesday News) reflecting on the enormity of the desperation felt back with my family. It was great to hear laughter over the phone talking about the close calls, the crazy scenes, and the jokes over the fact that they actually found the culprit to the sinkhole. I am lucky, as we are all lucky to be in Chicago and face silly thunderstorms that leave us with nothing but greener pastures, mosquitoes, and days of trail-riding limitations.

I wish all my friends well that they may find great happiness in their own friends and families and ability to see them when they can – it’s not a jungle out there. The jungle is down there.

The following sinkhole is no more than four blocks away from my aunt’s house in ‘la Zona 2′ en Guatemala, City. A house she has owned for over 45 years – and despite its new grim looking portal – she isn’t considering moving anytime soon. Tia Rosaura – cuidate y te quiero!

Karmic Revolver

El Maya — Thu, 27 May 2010 13:59:09 +0000

Yesterday was one of the finest days I’ve had in a long while. The weather obviously contributed to it – but through some odd chain of events starting at 7:00AM, the universe kindly urged me to enjoy the day alone with my daughter exploring the city. I had a day planned out, like the trained middle manager monkey that I am, to take the kid to daycare, get to the office, and then do the Hooky Wednesday session at Palos for a half day jaunt in the woods with Nevada Dave and DaDoubleG. The day would have gone that route, had it not been for the fact that I placed my wallet which held my phone, cards, cash, and ID on top of my car. Yes, I drove off.

By 8:00AM with the help of my neighbor and my impeccable little girl who repeatedly told me ‘Papi, I help find your wallet’ – I was in a state of unbelievable calm and well impressed that my daughter, cared about this stupid piece of leather its contents, only because she saw it was important to me. The first phase of children’s selfless acts to help someone had me in a wonderful frame of mind. At 8:30AM I received an e-mail from the gentlemen who found my wallet and phone – so the day started looking up and karma had begun its revolution. I figured it called for a celebration – and I looked at my 3′2″ sidekick and asked if she wanted to go riding with papi since taking her to daycare after faithfully searching an hour with me was reason enough to stay the day with her – her answer was ‘YES!’. I had thought of hitting up Tati Cycles yesterday evening as well, so I figured, I’d make that the lunch hour destination around 2PM to meet ‘J’ and pick-up some fly colored skewers that I had seen he had in stock. So the girl and I stocked up the Burly trailer, hitched it up to my bike and the journey to 53rd street from 5100 N. began. The weather was absolutely perfect for riding.

We hit up the trusty lakefront bike path – which at noon – is not so bad of a predicament with people on the path, and I’m pulling a trailer with a super cute kid, so I mostly feared the gals on roller blades who would coo over how cute my girl looked in her helmet while almost riding off into the sand or the rear of a jogger ahead of them. I had a couple of pathletes who found the urge to challenge me and my trailer and work their way dangerously and stupidly around me by playing chicken with the commuters and joggers in the wrong lane. My girl enjoyed the show and as she saw people ride past – she wasn’t having any of it and proudly exclaimed ‘Papi, go faster! Go faster!’ – I guess she doesn’t like it when people passed us. So when I found a few wide berths which aren’t many on the path before downtown, I drilled a good hard pace powered by my Led Zeppelin T-Shirt flapping in the breeze and getting heavier with sweat by the minute. By mile 14 – the girl fell asleep in the trailer with a cool breeze blowing about her and her cuddling her favorite green elephant, coincidentally donated to her by a cyclist’s friend’s daughter. I arrived to 53rd street and wind my way through the tree covered historical grounds that is Hyde Park and found the shop easily. I pulled onto the sidewalk and a funny thing happens – the wheel falls of the trailer!

‘J’ is a soft spoken guy with a love of bicycles and all things orange. He has gleaming blue eyes that reveal a very young spirit and even bigger persona as you talk to him in person. His immediate reaction when saw me pull up on the sidewalk was as astounded as I was that a wheel just fell off my trailer and with my daughter still in it no less. Good thing he owns a bike shop! We worked through the problem and thankfully it was resolved if temporary, but we both were confident he fixed it. During the fixing of the wheel, my daughter helped herself to several apples, carbon wheels, and even assisted one of his customers showing her how to use a bike pump. I had been meaning to get to J’s shop for a while now and moreso meet the man behind the ‘Tatitos’. It was great to talk bikes, and life, and realize that we had a lot more in common than just our love of bikes and the cyclocross scene. Karma turned yet another wonderful revolution as he didn’t charge me for the bike fix and I gladly picked up the actual skewers I was looking for and played host to my daughters curious nature about all his colorful inventory in his shop. A friend now known in person and a great visit to the shop that brings us the wooled wonders from Hyde Park. Off I scooted with my newly fixed trailer, and daughter waving goodbye to Hyde Park and its beautiful denizens in great cheer for the happy sun.

I made it past the Aquarium back north when another rider stopped me to tell me that my rear skewer looked loose on the trailer – I looked back and investigated and it turned out the skewer cap was coming loose but the tire was held on tight still. Befuddled, I had no choice but to chance it as I had 11 more miles to home and the daughter is looking weary in the trailer. So we headed off carefully with me constantly looking back to ensure the wheel wouldn’t surprisingly take off. During those awkward moments, by Division and the lakefront, I came across Adam Clark, and old friend, framebuilder, and proprietor of ‘Pedal to the People‘. He was doing exactly that – setting up his portable shop at the lakefront assisting bike riders. I stopped and we exchanged a great conversation on our going ons and he took the skewer once again to review its issues. After a short bit, he concluded the skewer would hold but to definitely get the factory correct skewer to ensure full compatibility and with that vote of confidence the journey began. My daughter had been playing with even more bike tools at this stop and enjoyed the barefoot run around the grass.

We made it home by 4:30PM – my wife was home already for a happy reunion to the great day. At 6PM my wallet was returned while I made pasta with pesto. All in all – reflecting back, I did admittedly miss the dirt trails, but passing up an opportunity to play hooky with my daughter was too good to pass up. And I enjoyed the day greatly, made a new friend, revisited with an old friend and watched the karmic revolution transpire before my eyes. It was a day for cycling, family, friends, and further realization that it exists daily in our fine city.

As far as ‘training’ goes – pulling 70 pounds 42 miles might actually qualify me as the keg puller for this weekend’s Half Acre Gravel Metric Century.