Run to Failure

Too much stuff, not enough riding. Stuff like the second job, watching bands play good music, avoiding meatheads, and sleeping.

This morning I was reading an op-ed piece in a trade journal discussing our deteriorating infrastructure, sewer and water systems in specific. Interesting stuff, I suppose, if you wonder (like I get paid to do) where the poop goes, but I noticed something else that is relevant to me outside of work. Here's the quote:

Here’s another thought: Use the reality of deteriorated infrastructure as a rationale for investing in next-generation technologies and designs. There is a concept in asset management called “run to failure,” where it is efficient to stop repairing the old system and eventually to replace it with something new.

I've been thinking about how I'll decide when it's time to replace the singlespeed I've been commuting on for two years. This bicycle has been great and it still is great. But, on the other hand, there are few original parts left on it. Frame, fork, and seatpost. Oh, and stem. Otherwise, all new. I've spent far more on upgrading this thing than it cost way back in 1992 when it was just "my bike." In return, the bike has been safe and reliable for years. It gets me to work in any weather. It gets me home from the bar regardless of my ability to pilot it. This means that despite my best intentions, I have invested a degree of sentimental feeling in this assemblage of steel tubes.

Now the fork has a small crack in it. I'm not worried, the crack is in the very bottom of the steering tube. There is deterioration around the mounting hardware for the fender. I don't think the fork is going to suddenly fail but I have started thinking about what to do next. New fork? New bike? At what point is it time to thank the bike for its years of service and move on to a shiny new one? I know I should make this decision prior to the day the fork breaks while I'm bombing down North Main St., but when?

What to do? What's next?

Well, it's time to develop a plan for succession, like what any good despotic ruler or republican President does. Here's mine:

When the day comes that the SST is too scary to ride, I'll retire it. What does this mean, "too scary to ride?" When does that happen? The following things shall trigger bicycle retirement:

• That crack on the fork grows to reach the weld just below the headset crown race. In my non-engineering estimate, a crack in a weld is bad and that's when the catastrophic fork-folding starts to happen.
  
• Obviously, any structural failure on the frame itself. I'm looking at you, drive-side chain stay where the spray-on primer is hiding some good rust...
• Wheel failure. This one really is pretty arbitrary because wheels are easy to replace. But, on the other hand, this bike really isn't ideal for what I'm using it for anyway. The 26-inch wheel size is one of the biggest limitations of this rig. A proper city bike ought to run 700c's...
  
• Maybe, just maybe, when my chainring/cog combo wears out. This one's also arbitrary since drivetrain parts are consumables. But, since it's running all steel parts right now, this particular one is a ways off. I'll be able to flip everything over and run it for about another hundred years with a new chain when the time comes. I'll expect one of the other triggers to happen in the meantime.
  

What shall I do when the day of reckoning comes? Well, ideally I'll figure it out 6-8 months ahead of time so I can order a new road bike from Circle A Cycles and I shall convert my current road rig to commuting duty. The cycle shall begin anew. I might just enjoy having some gears. Or not, we'll see.

So, did you see how I just used the eventual deterioration of my trusty commuter rig to make it ok to lay out a couple grand for a new road rig? Awesome. It'll be like getting two new bikes instead of one. A "new to this use" commuter rig (Wow, look how much faster I can go!) and a spanking new, hand-built, lugged steel, road bike.

Greenway Challenge Course

The course for the Blackstone River Greenway Challenge has been released. According to my team captain, the mountain bike section is tough. Says the course designer, "The mountain bikers will like this course!" Also, says our captain, "The road riders will hate this." Glad I'm doing the mountain section. Over there on the left you can see a little topo for the course. Looks like flat out (and flat) for the beginning. Then a quick jaunt through a wastewater treatment plant (How come it's always about the poop?). The technical stuff is loaded on at the end. One massive climb and a couple smaller ones. The descent from Goat Hill looks to be interesting as well.

This is an area I've never ridden before so it'll be good to check it out beforehand. Hopefully tomorrow will be the day. We have two weeks to go so I will try to ride up there a couple of times. Because, you know, it's crucial that we WIN!

And speaking of the Blackstone, yesterday I went paddling on the Blackstone River in a whitewater boat. I have sea kayaked for years but I have never paddled in moving water before. You know, rivers with rapids and stuff. The experience was fun and much more difficult than I expected. It gives me a whole new appreciation for how skilled the people you see in movies or on TV running huge rapids are. I'm scared of fresh water in general (who knows what sort of creepy things live there?) so my biggest difficulty was just relaxing in the boat. My arms are tired from over-gripping the paddle. All of my instincts were backwards. Which side to brace? Lean which way? Whoa, now I'm spinning... If I focused carefully on one skill at a time it was ok but when I had to react to the river more quickly I didn't feel entirely in control. Once in awhile it's fun to shake things up and try something new, to rediscover the beginner's mind.

Progress, part deux

I made myself curious last Tuesday when I visited the city-side of the India Point Park bridge. On Saturday, I took a ride down to visit the Park itself, via the always-exciting Gano Street entrance.

Construction sites can be either depressing or inspiring. Depressing because they're messy. The ground is torn up, trees removed, materials and debris all over the place. Lots of half-assed fencing. Or, my favorite construction site pet peeve: sediment fencing improperly installed and poorly maintained. India Point Park has all of this right now, plus also a gigantic, dilapidated building in the form of Shooters. But, I can already tell that the park is going to be pretty cool once the work is all done. Sure, it's going to be smaller than it was because there is an additional ramp adjacent to the highway, but what remains will be nicer. Maybe. At least there's good potential. The new pedestrian bridge is going to be great. The park will be better linked with downtown and riverwalk/waterplace. It'll be better linked to Wickenden. All this stuff will hopefully get lots of people down there. Also, the linear Washington Bridge park is going to be neat as well, at least in the year 2341 when it is actually finished.

This has nothing to do with that: This year the Blackstone River Greenway Challenge will include a mountain biking leg. My office throws a team together each year and since I'm the only person around who rides a mountain bike I have been volunteered. I expect this will be fun because despite my incredible speed and skills on a mountain bike I have never raced. I have no idea where the ride will take place or over what sort of terrain. Could it be Lincoln Woods? That monastary place up in Cumberland? Something else entirely? We'll see. The course will be officially released in a day or two. The event is September 27th. I should probably ride a time or two beforehand. I went to Lincoln Woods once last week and managed to avoid breakdowns or injury so we're on the right track. Good stuff.

Progress

Back in the day, a cyclist used to be able to ride out Hope St., cross 195 on the scary, old pedestrian bridge to India Point Park, then shoot over the Washington Bridge to the East Bay Bike path. But then the 195 Relocation/Build-me-an-IWay project got under way. The pedestrian bridge got torn down. The bicycle crossing on the Washington Bridge went away. Suddenly it was a huge pain in the ass to ride over to East Providence. Now, with the construction on the Henderson Bridge, it's even worse. Dark days for cyclists, indeed. Dark days.

But maybe things are looking up. Yesterday I checked in on the India Point Pedestrian Bridge on my way home from the farmer's market. I had noticed a couple weeks back that the ornamental cladding had been hung on the fancy, new bridge. There is a texturing pattern and letters that say "India Point Park Bridge" or something to remind speeding (or crawling) motorists that there's an amazing park right nearby. This prompted me to check on the work progress on the bridge. Yesterday I saw that the bridge isn't open yet, but it's definitely coming along. The fencing is up along either side to prevent people from jumping off, throwing stuff at cars, or writing graffitti on the lettering. According to the renderings, there will be planters along either side of the bridge as well, and the soil is mostly in place. According to these photos, the landscaping on the park-side of the bridge is getting close as well. Interesting...

So, perhaps soon we'll at least be able to easily access India Point without the sport of riding down Gano. It's much harder to tell what the progress is on the Washington Bridge section. They don't have a slick, spendy public relations website...

If I...

Hear another "Sex & the City" ringtone while I'm trying to work, I'm going to throw up.

When Nature Attacks!

Today I was surprised to see a red tail hawk in the parking lot just across from the entrance to my office. The bird was in the process of dismembering some sort of small mammal, maybe a rat. I heard later that the hawk picked up the animal, carried it on to a nearby car, pooped on the car, then flew off. Awesome. Even more awesome when I learned that the car belongs to our esteemed union president.

This has nothing to do with that...

One's sense of smell has a powerful ability to induce nostalgia. I just walked into the hallway here at work and was overwhelmed by the odor of grilled food and cleaning products. Presumably this is a sign of good things going on at the cafe down the hall, but it also sent me immediately back to Chatterley's, in New Hartford, CT. I spent many an evening (too many, in hindsight) in that bar. Every time I walked in there I would smell the grill (mmm... cheeseburgers...), smell the cleaner they used on the bar, and smell the stale, musty spilled beer. They don't serve beer here at the Foundry, but the other two smells are strong enough to make my mind conjure up the beer stench anyway...

Nature

On the ride in this morning I observed a cat chasing a squirrel. The squirrel looked like it was working a lot harder than the cat...

Chilly today, almost like fall for real.

New Paradigm

I'm surprised I haven't seen this around here before...

Yesterday I stopped at the market on my way home for the purpose of buying some milk. I was not riding but rather combining trips. Anyway, when I walked out, I saw a bike in the rack with an Xtracycle conversion kit! The cargo bike revolution has come to town... maybe.

I'm sorely tempted to buy a long bike, like a Kona Ute or a Surly Big Dummy, but I still haven't solved the home-storage issue. I'll have to give it some thought. I also just got my car tax bill from the city... yet another encouragement to find another way.

Football?!? Or, how it is extremely difficult to travel to Gillette Stadium by any means other than by car

Yes, it's still August, but there are already professional football games going on. Tonight, the Eagles will play the Patriots at nearby Gillette Stadium. My sister's boyfriend has season tickets for the Pats and he has generously offered a few seats so we can go see this game. Apparently among true football fans the preseason games aren't so interesting so the tickets are usually given away or sold at a steep discount. The face value for our tickets is $117 or some such nonsense but we'll be dropping a mere $50 per. Seems crazy to me but the NFL is big business even when it's not the real season.

But that's not what is annoying.

How does one travel to Gillette Stadium? One drives, of course! Unless, that is, you have reservations about the whole scenario, be it the $40 parking fee, the traffic, the hassle, whatever. The other option is to take the train. The MBTA, in partnership with the Patriots, operates a special train on game days. Sports fans can travel from Providence or South Station in Boston right to the stadium. And by "right to the stadium" I mean "somewhere nearby, surely within a day's walk." Perhaps I'm complaining prematurely, we'll see. I've never been there.

That's not the annoying thing either.

The annoying thing is the list of restrictions on what one can travel with on this train, and subsequently carry into the stadium. My original plan was to ride my bike to the train station, lock up, jump on the train and be good to go. This would involve me carrying a messenger bag to stash my helmet and a jacket. Maybe a couple beers... but for consumption as road sodas, not to smuggle into the stadium (I'll surely drink a few $9 Bud Lights once there, don't want to withhold my money from Mr. Kraft). Problem is, carrying a bag like that into the stadium is prohibited! Blast! Thank you Department of Homeland Security! I feel safer already. Anyway, if I have nowhere other than on my head to carry my helmet, etc., it makes riding to the station more of a drag. Waaaaah. So, instead, I'll take the bus. While I still can. RIPTA is broke and going broker. It'll add some time to my trip and increase my walking mileage, but I'll manage. Somehow.

So it will be a public transportation adventure, involving uncertain scheduling, disorientation, alcohol, and rowdy sports fans. What could possibly go wrong?

Fall preview

Today it was cool enough on the ride in for my eyes to water when I was going fast. It amuses me to imagine what drivers I see at the stop light must think. "Huh, that guy must be crying because he doesn't have a car."

Or, more likely, they don't even notice.

Today's idiot

As I rounded the final corner of my ride in this morning, I saw that the parking lot shuttle bus was ahead of me and was stopping right in front of the doorway to the office. This is not unusual as the bus is, after all, a means for the lazy people who drive to work to avoid walking that last 100 yards or so from the parking lot to the building. It happens that the bus always stops in such a way as to completely block the ramp up on to the sidewalk. This means I have to dismount in the street or, as I usually do, hop the curb to finish my ride. No problem, although I do think it's rude for the bus driver to park in such an obstructive manner.

Today, I zoomed up behind the bus, hopped the curb, and dismounted. As this was happening, I noticed the bus driver dismounting from his fine steed. This is also not unusual as the driver is a fat man who frequently interrupts his work to buy coffee or dispose of the coffee he has already consumed. Today, the timing was such that I opened the office door just in front of the driver who, as I've already indicated, parked so as to rudely block the entrance. As I passed through the second door I just continued on, not bothering to hold the door. The fat bus driver was behind me by enough that I didn't think I was violating some law of etiquette by not waiting. Mr. Driver Man at this point says to me, "Thanks!", just dripping with sarcasm.

HA! Thanks to you, Fat Man, for parking your lazy person's ferry in the way of everyone else! How dare you imply I'm rude when you, in fact, have been recently even more rude! I will NOT hold the door for you until you learn to pull ahead one bus-length before dismounting for your coffee-and-pee break. STOP BLOCKING THE RAMP!

And this is just another small example of the indignities suffered while riding a bicycle for transportation.

So Tired...

I woke up from an anxiety-induced dream at 5 this morning. As often happens under this circumstance, I was wide awake. I briefly considered getting up and exercising, but since it was 5 a.m. I put myself back to bed. When the alarm went off an hour later I had a difficult time getting up. In fact, it took me a solid half hour to get to the point where I felt like I was truly awake. I forced myself to go through my exercise regimen but it felt bad. From this experience (and numerous others like it) I believe that sleep cycles are real and have a huge impact on how I feel. Despite getting around 8 hours of sleep last night I still feel fatigued. I can get more sleep but it's for naught and I feel like crap if I wake in the wrong part of a sleep cycle. Alternately, I can get very little sleep but if I wake up on my own, at the appropriate end of a cycle, I feel good.

So... the next time I wake up at a ridiculous hour of the morning, maybe I'll just get up and start my day. Let's see what happens. If I was awake at 5 I would even have time for a quick road ride before work. How fun would that be? Ripping around town on my bike while idiots drive to work, fat and zombie-like... Anyway, we'll see how things work out. My schedule over the next few days will keep me up later than I'd prefer so this may or may not come to anything for awhile. Getting rid of Luther will require efficient use of my time and the early morning might provide opportunities.

A post in 2008?

Insert here the groaning sound Krusty the Clown makes each time he realizes what an incompetent entertainer he is... As I myself realize what an incompetent blogger I am. "You're supposed to write in the thing!" they tell me. I see.

Well, it's just that I've been too busy trying to recover the cycling conditioning I had a month ago. I spent the last week figuring out which way is up after taking the previous two weeks to go sailing in Maine. By "sailing" I actually mean "motoring through the rain with the sails up", but that's neither here nor there. The week prior to the aforementioned trip, I was packing and preparing. Mostly I was not riding.

I had been doing a fair bit of mountain biking and was feeling pretty solid about my conditioning and my meager skills. I rode Lincoln Woods a couple times and not only didn't break myself, I even discovered a couple of new trails to mix up my typical route. I also spent an afternoon getting semi-lost in the dust of Big River. I rode fast and I rode well. Back in early July I had a ride in Arcadia that was borderline epic. Started with brutal suffering on the Mt. Tom trail, then amazing riding on the Arcadia trail and some others I don't know by name, then finished with a log (not a stick, a full-on log) going through my rear derailleur on the Breakheart Trail. How appropriate... Truly satisfying adventures, all.

Then, along comes a wonderful vacation and mucks it all up. In life we take two steps forward and then sometimes one step back. So, to recover from my vacation I've been trying to ride more frequently and I've even started running on the days I don't ride. We'll see how long this lasts but it's fun to say. "Yes, I've started running. I figure if I actually train for the Mews 5k in November I'll kick everybody's ass..."

The real reason has nothing to do with the Mews 5k, the Blackstone River Greenway Challenge, or any other vaguely competitive mess of an adventure. Instead it's because I have discovered a new friend. I call him Luther and he lives around my waist. He sprang into existence sometime recently but I'm not sure exactly when. He feeds mostly on beer and cheese and inactivity. Other people tend not to notice Luther, but I always see him. Perhaps it's because of the angle I'm viewing him from. Luther is literally weighing me down, but he's also now fueling my bicycling. And my running. It's crazy. I have a new appreciation for how easy it must be for women to develop body image issues. I weigh myself once, discover that I've bulked up to 181 pounds, and all of a sudden I'm trying to be Mr. Fitness. Crazy. All I want is to be able to jump on a bike and ride it with some competence and not feel like I'm going to puke while it's happening.

It's not that bad, but there's work to do...

The Man is Holding Me Down

I've been having a shitty couple of days for a variety of reasons I don't want to go into right now. So, in response, I rode my bike over to a friends house to talk about stuff. Upon my return, I put my bike in its usual place at the bottom of the stairs, walked up to my apartment, and walked to kitchen. It should be noted that my bike has been in the stairwell the entire time I've lived here. Within moments of my return home, my landlord (who lives on the floor below me) called me up and said that it is no longer acceptable to have my bike in the stairs. Messing up the paint, apparently. I find this humorous because while the stairwell has just been painted, IT WAS A SHITTY JOB! "I want to keep the front stairs, you know, nice," he says. Whatever. Nothing about this house is nice, least of all the paint in the stairways. I'm not a painter, but I've done lots of painting and I know what a good job looks like. This ain't it. And now, in the defense of this horrible paintjob, the White Boot of Oppression is making it that little bit harder to subvert the autocentric paradigm! Fuckers!

On the road...

I spent the weekend on the road, in a car. My grandmother turned 90 recently so we gathered the tribe in New Jersey to celebrate. Here's the bike-ability report for Medford, NJ: Not very bikeable. There is a bike rack in front of the public library but I didn't see any others. I saw no cyclists and the roads made me feel uncomfortable even thinking about riding. Something about narrow shoulders and 50 mph speed limits...

i am in hell...

The cheating, lying Patriots beat San Diego (I believe it means "Whale's Vagina"... Anchorman, anyone?) 38-14 last night. That means I get to listen to my co-workers talk about what a great team "we" have, how deliberately and consistently violating the rules "doesn't make a difference," how "we're going all the way if everybody stays healthy." F that, I say. You people need to shut the hell up and get back in touch with, um, ethical behavior. I sure do hope the Eagles can win one tonight... that'll go a long way towards making me feel better.

It was 46 degrees for my ride in this morning. In the span of a week we've gone from hot, humid, sticky summer riding to brisk (i.e. COLD), eyes watering fall riding. Awesome!

TGIMFF

It has been a long week...

I only rode for fun once this week, and I hesitate to use the term "fun." This was Monday. There was a termite hatch Monday afternoon because the little bastards were everywhere. I couldn't find my sunglasses so I rode without. This is how I discovered the termites. They all tried to get in my eyes. They stuck themselves to my crotch and the sleeves of my shirt. They hit me in the chest. I may or may not have eaten a couple, but it was hard to tell since I was busy avoiding cars. Three near misses in a mile and a half to start the ride. Then the rain came. I originally intended to do a quick ride to Riverside, but when it started raining I decided that the odds were stacked against me. Too many bad omens. So, instead, I rode the hills in the neighborhood behind my house. Intervals for wusses, short but steep climbs. I think I was only on the bike for 45 minutes...

It'll be better today, I'm going to hit up Lincoln Woods.

Congratulations, by the way, to Mike and Anna on the birth of their son last Saturday...

NEMBAfest

The plan was flawless, but I should have known better than to expect to ride well after a Sharks Come Cruisin' show. So that's where we start. Friday night Sharks Come Cruisin' played at Patrick's Pub up on Smith Street. The show was fantastic, as usual, despite a lame group of pirates. Pirates? Yup, there was a "Pirate-themed party" in the house. Apparently the buccaneers didn't realize that they were supposed to be drinking heavily and singing along. By singing along, of course, I mean yelling at the top of one's lungs. Anyway, I was not impressed by the pirates, except for the cute one we nicknamed Pirate Spice, so I felt compelled to redouble my efforts and "sing" louder. This continued well into the night, i.e. until the bar closed at 2. The ride home was interesting as well, but the important point here is that I remember it being 3:26 when I closed my eyes.

When I opened my eyes, my clock said 7:00. While I waited for the anvil to drop on my head, I quickly realized that there were two ways the day could go. I could stay in bed and sleep more, read: all day, or I could suck it up and go riding. Since there were five other people involved in the planned NEMBAfest adventure it really wasn't a choice, so I got up. Stumbling around, drunk over, or maybe hung ovunk, it took me 40 minutes to load my rig onto the car. I also brought tools and a bike for E to ride. I did not eat because there was no food in my house, but I did suck down a pint of water. Off we go, quick stop to "fuel up" at Dunkin' Donuts. An hour later I arrived at Wompatuck State Forest in Hingham.

Originally I had planned on getting up to Hingham early enough to check things out, register, and maybe jump on a 10 o'clock group ride. I chose 10 because I knew I'd probably be tired from the night before. The reality of the situation proved that I had woefully underestimated the amount of fun I'd have on Friday night. While I successfully navigated to Wompatuck by 9:30, I was in no way prepared to ride near other people at 10. It took until nearly 11 to get everybody together, bikes prepped, lids on, mentally pumped and jacked.

There were group rides firing off every half hour, so despite the fact that J and I missed the start of the 11 o'clock "Advanced Intermediate" ride we were able to catch up quickly. It took us one climb to demolish the group, despite the fact that I was sweating alcohol. We decided to ditch the group when the group leader couldn't make a rock garden section and proceeded to stand right in the middle of the trail, obstructing me and everybody else. I could have made it, I swear...

So off we went on our own, following the red arrows. Seemed like a good idea at the time, but I have to admit I was a little nervous about committing to 22 miles in 95 degree heat with no food and a raging hangover. Onward we rode, J battling through minor mechanical issues and me fighting my caloric deficit and dehydration. And then there was the issue of water... about half way through the ride, right when I was getting worried about how empty my camelback was, we discovered a water source in the campground area. This absolutely saved me because I was already starting to get the chills from being overheated. Supply replenished, I was again able to drink heavily. Water, not booze... Onward we rode.

I ran out of water for the second time when we were close enough to the finish to hear the announcer-guy setting up the contests for the afternoon. Huffy toss anyone? The only way out was through, so we kept riding. I was on the verge of serious problems as I was thoroughly chilled, despite the heat. I was still sweating, but I knew bad things were happening to me. The announcers voice was ahead of us until the trail bent and we realized that we were riding around the field instead of towards it. The only way out is through! My front tire washed out in a swoopy section and I nearly ate a tree. The voice is closer! And then, success! The heat crushed us as we emerged from the forest back into the festival field. I rode directly to the water tent and was restored.

The rest of the afternoon was spent chilling out and attempting to gather my wits. We watched the aforementioned Huffy Toss contest (which J entered and won...), watching Mike Steidley throw down some amazing trials skill, and talking to the girl in the Larabar tent. Mmmmm, Larabars. Actually, I had never eaten one before, but the girl in the tent was beautiful and fun to talk to so I felt compelled to chat for awhile and try out each flavor. Should have gotten her number... lesson learned, I'll do better next time. Did I mention I was hung over and dehydrated? After some more lounging around in the shade, we disbanded and headed for home.

Wompatuck is a cool place to ride. It's big and confusing, but all the major trail intersections are numbered so it's fairly easy to figure out where you are. There are also lots of fire roads and bail-out points if you, say, run out of water. It took a little over an hour to get there, so it's not the most convenient place for those of us in the PVD, but it would definitely be worth getting a group together and heading back.

Aftermath...

Ah Reno... have you ever been? It was my first time out there. I've visited all of the other states in that part of the country, but not Nevada. As far as I can tell there's nothing in Nevada except for Reno and Las Vegas. I know this because I flew first to Vegas, changed planes, then continued up to Reno. I sat in a window seat and looked out the whole way, seeing nothing but high desert. There were dirt roads here and there, but I didn't see any paved roads. There must be some, somewhere, because I'm pretty sure you can drive between these cities without a four wheel drive vehicle. It's an odd view for someone from the Northeast... On the outskirts of Vegas, the buildings stop, the roads continue another block or two, then the desert takes over. Then, an hour later, the desert stops, roads begin, and buildings appear. Welcome to Reno!

Reno is, uh, skeevy. That's the best word I can think of to describe it. The city consists of casinos, pawn shops, and bars. There are allegedly crackheads and meth addicts on the streets, more so than in other places. I didn't see any in person but they were all over the local news. Everything is dusty and dirty. You can smoke pretty much everywhere in Reno, so the whole place smells like cigarettes. Our conference was in Harrah's Casino, where you can't get anywhere without walking through the gaming areas. There are people draining their money at all hours of the day and night, it's a little depressing. This is not a joke, but I saw a guy playing video poker when I stumbled past on my way to my room at 2:30 in the morning. Saw the same guy, in the same place, at 7:30 the next morning when I went down for breakfast. It's nuts.

However, having said all that, I had a great time out there. The conference was moderately interesting but I did meet some really cool people, including, but not limited to: A Canadian, a bartender who dances on the bar for extra tips, a little guy who's in the UFC, a recently retired NFL player, and a bunch of folks like me looking to have fun on a business trip. We got our work done and then went to visit the sketchy bars every night. With the exception of the place that used to be a strip club, none of the individual places were any sketchier than what one might find out here. Rather it was the sheer density of sketchy bars. Here you have to seek out the dives, out there it's the other way around and you have to seek out nice places.

By the end of the week, however, I was ready to come home. Too much drinking, too much nasty food (or too little healthy food is maybe a better way to say it...), too much smelling tobacco smoke, too little sleep. I think I'm sick, actually, something is wrong with my sinuses. I'm still on Pacific Time, so I've been unable to fall asleep before 1 a.m. since I've been back. Hopefully I'll be tired enough to get to bed early tonight...

Back from the edge...

I'm just back from a week-long "business trip" to Reno, NV. I'll try to post more on the trip later since it was a solid adventure, but for now this'll just be a bike inventory from the journey. While in Reno I saw three cyclists, one person who looked like they were riding because they wanted to and three who seemed to be riding because they had to (i.e. oh crap, lost my license...). Reno does not appear to be a very cycle-friendly city because although the roads are wide, people drive super fast. Left turns on a bike involve taking not just a lane, but three or four to get over to the middle of the road. On the other hand, since the city is in a valley, it's pretty flat.

Ok, that's all for now, I'll do more later.