Friday, June 27, 2008

Things that go bump in the night

Thursday was another typical July day in Richmond, around a 100 and humid. My only task for the day was to move a hot water heater so I could access an area for next weeks hell job where I’ll be installing drain tile in a basement to control flooding. Normally a 2 person job but I’ve decided to work alone for awhile so it’s all on me to break up the concrete, dig the grade and install the drain system. But for now I’m done and with the heat peaking at 3pm I had to just sit it out until the sun got a little lower. So at 6:30 I loaded up the Surly 1x1 and headed to Dogwood Dell near the trail head to get in as much riding before dark as possible. Like most folks who ride these trails I have different routes for different days and to day was for fun and not so much for a workout so Forest Hill Park was left out. That section is just hard to ride what with all the Hills as the name implies and the fact that no trail maintenance is allowed due to political reasons, (The rights of the few affecting the rights of the many,) hopefully that stupid shit will be resolved soon. So for to nights ride it’s, North Trail then Butter Milk heading east then Butter Milk Heights heading west to make a figure 8 then across the Nickel Bridge, which is now a quarter, then a quick adjustment to the bike back at the car then North Trail again and Butter Milk heading east (I like to ride down the steps of the train tracks tower) then west on North Trail in the dark. Confused? Then come along some time and do my 8 Ball Ride.

Monday, June 23, 2008

George Carlin - Religion is bullshit.

George IS God

Sunday, June 22, 2008

spiritual restoration program

Whats wrong with this picture?


It looks as though Ex Preacher Ted Haggard is all restored now that he's not gay any more. I'm wondering if he'll have anal restoration next? Just needs to tidy up the old poop shoot before heading back to the pulpit to preach about the abomination of same sex marriage. Maybe while he’s at it he can have his head removed from his ass also. Hypocrite!

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Richmond Pro Cycling hits the Big Time!

And for Esteban, (center in blue) that’s literally.
RPC was at the Rock Racing Harlem Crit in New York City this past weekend once again dicing it up with the best that US pro cycling has to offer and while there got the attention of no other than Bike Snob NYC himself. Check out his race report by clicking on his link on this page to find The Boys in White and Blue.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

The 2008 Urban Insult…”Is that your moms bike your racing?”

Richmond’s MTB scene gets better and better every year and what has driven much of what is going on is that the Xterra East Coast Championships are held in Downtown Richmond each year. So we have made damn sure that this town has the best urban mountain biking on the circuit. And as a reward for all the hard work the volunteers put in, we get our own race the day before the triathlon called The Urban Assault, or The Urban Insult, or as my gal pal Ashley calls it, The Urban Asshault.







But what ever it’s called it hurts so good.... and bad.



Friday, June 13, 2008

very funny kid-swimming pool falling (hilarious)


This brings back an embarrassing memory. It was the summer of 1967, the family went to a public pool and I’d learned how to swim the summer before and was braving all the diving boards but couldn’t get up the courage to go down the 2 story giant slide that was in the middle of the pool. Plus there was a long line and I didn’t want to stand there just to chicken out once it was my turn. So I waited and finally no one was there, I could just wade to the giant metal sliding board and go right up. I climbed the ladder and reached the platform and sat in position and decided to go. As I began my trip toward the cool blue water waiting below I quickly got a lesson in sliding board mechanics. The reason there was no line was because the water that pours down the metal to make it slippery had been turned off for some reason, bringing me to a screeching halt half way down the hotplate like surface causing me to eject myself from 10 feet in the air like a fighter pilot from a burning jet hitting the water with a belly flop. The pain that has stayed with me all the years however is not the memory of the burning sensation on both my ass and stomach but the humiliation of the laughter. The lesson I learned that day was how to suck up pain and not run crying to my mom