So the reviews this week for Gamjams are on each cyclist's choice of seat and seatpost. Personally my choice of post/bars/stem is pretty simple: Ritchey Pro. That's what came on the race bike I bought a few years back and those same peices of metal are on my road bike now. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. I'm happy with them and they're pretty lightweight. Not bad.
For my saddle, I'm a bit more picky (because I want to have children some day). For a few years I was riding a Selle Italia Flite saddle which just didn't bother me that much. I had one on my roadie and fixie. They just worked for me, although sometimes I could feel important parts of my anatomy just plain falling asleep. Not cool, but I could usually manage it once it started.
I had tried a few other saddles before the flite, particulary a stock Fuji decirculating ass-hatchet saddle, and a skinny Selle San Marco Aspide. The former sucked as expected, the latter was seriously lightweight but too hard and way too skinny for my tush.
Earlier this year after building up my new bike, I just wanted a new saddle. Going against my own advice, I started trying new things. I'd heard great things about two saddles in particular: Fizik Arione and Specialized Toupe. Although I never got a chance to try the Arione, I knew that I would prefer a seat with a cutout for improved circulation.
Luckily, the guys at BPS in Georgetown let me try a Toupe Team on my own bike after I'd just returned from a three hour ride. Well, those guys might have saved my first born, because it's a pretty simple selling point to say that my junk hasn't fallen asleep on a ride since I've been using a Toupe. Sweet. Some would say that's kinda important. I agree.
For what it's worth, I know that not every saddle is for everyone, and this just works for me. I do, however, believe that a saddle is one piece of equipment that fits correctly when you seldom think about it. But ... If you're having problems with blood flow in the crotchal region, I'd highly recommend trying the Toupe because it's proven to be less of a damper on the taint's veins. It comes in multiple widths for varying butt-bone sizes, too. I personalky use a 143mm Toupe Team saddle.
The saddle is hard but has a wide channel for blood flow and flexes in the middle (around the channel) and also where your thighs meet the leather to prevent loss of power during your pedal stroke. I know that I'm not the first to say it but it needs to be repeated - this saddle takes some time to break in and get accustomed to. Give it time, and if not, throw it on eBay for $100 and you'll get a chunk of change back. Much like the Arione, this saddle in good condition used still goes for a pretty penny.
So, that's how my crotch rolls, and I hope it was helpful.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Gamjams Reviews: Chamois Cream - Chamois Butt'r
I think it was Dave Zabriskie who first brought the topic of "main-taint-ance" into the mainstream cycling culture. Before he was famous for posting the fastest TT ever in the Tour de France, beating even Lance, he was just any other pack-fodder American pro, racing for Team CSC.
After the publicity from winning that Time Trial, DZ joined an elite group of cyclists that have won a stage in each of the three grand tours. The demand for his strengths against the clock went up. Soon after, his web site that gave hilarious (but good) advice on taking care of your nether regions disappeared. I guess he hired a publicist.
Don't worry, though, the information on keeping your crotch content has been resurrected by some other fanatics.
Here though, I'll mainly touch on my own preference of chamois creams. Generally, I use Paceline Products' Chamois Butt'r because that's what I've always used. Years ago, I simply picked up a tube of Chamois Butt'r at (dare I say it) Performance Bikes and applied liberally. The stuff just works for me on those hot days in the saddle.
I think the best part about this stuff is how it softens the chamois itself. I don't think any actual chamois cream softens my skin enough to prevent a bit of chafing and soreness on hellishly long/hot rides but they sure can make you more comfortable.
I personally do not prefer the tickling, cool feel of "euro" creams with menthol like Assos. (When I wanna get my jollies and giggle, I do that off the bike.) Chamois Butt'r does have a "euro style" cream as well, although I haven't tried it. All these 'euro' creams are more expensive, too.
I also don't like how you have to goop up your fingers to apply the stuff out of jars. The normal Chamois Butt'r comes out of a tube, so you can squirt it onto your [clean] chamois pad like toothpaste onto your toothbrush (except that I would never put a chamois in my mouth, you may have different tastes). Once its on the chamois, just mush it in like a sponge with your hand on the outside of the shorts.
The final thing that I laud Chamois Butt'r for are their Pocket Pacs. Although I would never want to put my hand down my cycling shorts halfway through a ride, it might just be necessary sometimes. Stash a little packet of chamois butt'r in your jersey pocket and apply it before turning around in Poolesville. Just don't mix it up with your Gu.
After the publicity from winning that Time Trial, DZ joined an elite group of cyclists that have won a stage in each of the three grand tours. The demand for his strengths against the clock went up. Soon after, his web site that gave hilarious (but good) advice on taking care of your nether regions disappeared. I guess he hired a publicist.
Don't worry, though, the information on keeping your crotch content has been resurrected by some other fanatics.
Here though, I'll mainly touch on my own preference of chamois creams. Generally, I use Paceline Products' Chamois Butt'r because that's what I've always used. Years ago, I simply picked up a tube of Chamois Butt'r at (dare I say it) Performance Bikes and applied liberally. The stuff just works for me on those hot days in the saddle.
I think the best part about this stuff is how it softens the chamois itself. I don't think any actual chamois cream softens my skin enough to prevent a bit of chafing and soreness on hellishly long/hot rides but they sure can make you more comfortable.
I personally do not prefer the tickling, cool feel of "euro" creams with menthol like Assos. (When I wanna get my jollies and giggle, I do that off the bike.) Chamois Butt'r does have a "euro style" cream as well, although I haven't tried it. All these 'euro' creams are more expensive, too.
I also don't like how you have to goop up your fingers to apply the stuff out of jars. The normal Chamois Butt'r comes out of a tube, so you can squirt it onto your [clean] chamois pad like toothpaste onto your toothbrush (except that I would never put a chamois in my mouth, you may have different tastes). Once its on the chamois, just mush it in like a sponge with your hand on the outside of the shorts.
The final thing that I laud Chamois Butt'r for are their Pocket Pacs. Although I would never want to put my hand down my cycling shorts halfway through a ride, it might just be necessary sometimes. Stash a little packet of chamois butt'r in your jersey pocket and apply it before turning around in Poolesville. Just don't mix it up with your Gu.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Help: What kind of [freak show] bike is this?
Oh how I love the sound of deep dish carbon wheels. I'm jealous of the "kerplunk" sound theymake when you shift into a tiny cog on a sprint. During the Cat 4 event at the Wolfpack Cycling Classic this past weekend, there were tons of deep dish carbon wheels. So, a few times in the middle of the race, I thought I was sitting next to a guy on some darn cool deep-dish rims.
Heck, it sounded like one guy in particular was running a full carbon disc wheel, but I knew that couldn't be true.
Then what was that loud, beautiful whirrr, whirrrr, whirrrrrrr sound I was hearing from behind me?
To be honest, I still don't know what it was. But this is what I saw:
I told one of my GW cycling friends that it looks like an oven door on wheels. This thing belongs in the freak show of all bicycles.
Now, I'm not trying to criticize the guy riding the bike. The bearded chap could roll. The Lees Mcrae fellow raced the Cat 4 on Saturday and the Collegiate B crit on Sunday. On a bike like that, you know he's got legs - he was hanging in there just fine.
...But what in the holy limbo land of bicycle porn was he riding? It's baffling me. I need to know what that thing was. So I borrowed a friend's camera and took a few pictures during the crit on Sunday.
Less importantly, is that Oven Door bicycle UCI legal? The entire bike consists of a large metal fairing, although I assume it was hollow. Are you serious? This confuses me in two ways:
A) His Lees Mcrae brethren, all reputable athletes on a cycling team that is a varsity sport at that school, let him race on this thing. Why? Nobody had a Cannondale CAAD frame lying around?
B) I didn't see any USA Cycling referee question the bike. Granted, if the bike is legal, that's just fine. However, something like that has to at least be reviewed and given some seroius doubt by any sane cycling fanatic.
Granted, I'm not so much worried about the advantage he'd gain from riding the thing. I think that the weight of the bike wouldn't make up for it's huge aero advantage (except in TTs, where it'd make a huge difference). But I don't want my head smacking into - or getting smashed by - an oven door when the rubber-side goes up.
Anyways, I would appreciate and welcome all insight into what this bike could be. If anyone knows my bearded Cat 4 compatriot, throw him an email and send him my way. I'm morbidly curious and want to give him some kudos, too.
Here are some more pics from my flickr account... Cheers, and I hope you have a roof rack:
Heck, it sounded like one guy in particular was running a full carbon disc wheel, but I knew that couldn't be true.
Then what was that loud, beautiful whirrr, whirrrr, whirrrrrrr sound I was hearing from behind me?
To be honest, I still don't know what it was. But this is what I saw:
I told one of my GW cycling friends that it looks like an oven door on wheels. This thing belongs in the freak show of all bicycles.
Now, I'm not trying to criticize the guy riding the bike. The bearded chap could roll. The Lees Mcrae fellow raced the Cat 4 on Saturday and the Collegiate B crit on Sunday. On a bike like that, you know he's got legs - he was hanging in there just fine.
...But what in the holy limbo land of bicycle porn was he riding? It's baffling me. I need to know what that thing was. So I borrowed a friend's camera and took a few pictures during the crit on Sunday.
Less importantly, is that Oven Door bicycle UCI legal? The entire bike consists of a large metal fairing, although I assume it was hollow. Are you serious? This confuses me in two ways:
A) His Lees Mcrae brethren, all reputable athletes on a cycling team that is a varsity sport at that school, let him race on this thing. Why? Nobody had a Cannondale CAAD frame lying around?
B) I didn't see any USA Cycling referee question the bike. Granted, if the bike is legal, that's just fine. However, something like that has to at least be reviewed and given some seroius doubt by any sane cycling fanatic.
Granted, I'm not so much worried about the advantage he'd gain from riding the thing. I think that the weight of the bike wouldn't make up for it's huge aero advantage (except in TTs, where it'd make a huge difference). But I don't want my head smacking into - or getting smashed by - an oven door when the rubber-side goes up.
Anyways, I would appreciate and welcome all insight into what this bike could be. If anyone knows my bearded Cat 4 compatriot, throw him an email and send him my way. I'm morbidly curious and want to give him some kudos, too.
Here are some more pics from my flickr account... Cheers, and I hope you have a roof rack:
Saturday, February 14, 2009
The First Race of 2009: Wolfpack RR
None of this training race garbage. Tradezone and training crits are for sissies. I like to start out my racing season with the longest Cat 4 race of the year, the Wolpack Road Race in Sanford, NC hosted by NC State Cycling.
Who doesn't want to get the hardest race out of the way early on anyways? 54 miles in mid-February, bring it.
After all of the nerves and queasy feelings, I gotta say that once I started warming up on the bike, I felt much better. Aside from an exploding tube on some dude's bike at the start line, it was a boring round up. Off we went for a long haul. Perfect weather in the mid-50s and bright sun made for a great day to ride.
Being such a long race, I think a lot of folks in the field were anxious about warming up too much or going too fast too soon. That worked out great for me, who skimped out on a thorough warmup (none of this TT or crit warmup stuff). It took about half of the first lap (each lap was 18 miles long) for the pace to be recognized as anything competitive. I was in horrible position for the better part of that first lap, as guys were 3/4 wide and nobody seemed to be moving anywhere. If anything, the slow speeds were the biggest problem for safety. The word of the day in the Cat 4 peloton was "SLOWING!"
Guys were just not pedaling down hills or even on the latter half of rollers. Literally, my hands now hurt from the death grip I was forced to have on the hoods because of the decelerations. Luckily, things got better as the race went on.
If the first lap was that of slowing, the second was social hour. The pace was fairly quick and consistent, and I was comfortable all around. After the main turn by the staging area, which we were screaming through, I was able to get my butt into better position into the top dozen or so guys of the big field.
It just so happens that I sat on one guy's wheel for just about the entire second lap, so I didn't see much. I picked the perfect wheel, a dude the size of the jolly green giant that rode just like my pal drew. I was just comfortable there and knew that while I was inhis draft, near the front, I was doing very little work compared to mostguys and felt pretty safe.
On the last hill of the second lap, my big draft got too close to the front, in the wind, and took off. That ended social hour.
I didn't have to try very hard to stay in his draft after the hill but it woke everyone up. EVERYONE. A few miles later, like it was a prime lap, we went raging through the finish area at full gas ("balledak!) an into the scary downhill to uphill turn at a stupid click. It was fun, but dumb because the feed was coming up. I had brought an extra bottle in my jersey so I wouldn't have to hope for the feed, and I'm glad. With about 8 guys in front of me, we all bolted through the feed zone, up hill, out of the saddle. I gotta give mad props to my teammate Brad for hitting his feed bottle without a hesitation, at full speed. When he grabbed it, drink stuff exploded out of the cap everywhere but who cares? Sick move.
The third lap was actually somewhat like a race, at least it started and ended that way. We were hauling for a long while, a few solo attacks being chased down with ease. About halfway through that final, third lap a fee crazy things happened.
A) My teammate Brad attacked in a major lull. I tried to ruin the rotations that reacted to him, but after what I'm sure was a painful few minutes for him, he got reeled in. Probably the longest attack by anyone in our race, but still didn't get very far. Nobody got a chance although many tried and even I tried to follow a few surges. Everyone was waiting. Nothing stuck. Luckily for Brad who hung himself out to dry, though...
B) We caught up with the Master's Open race who had started a few minutes before us. What?!?! Cat 4s were catching up to the veterans in the open category? Woah. This is without saying that our pace was nothing to brag about. (Turns out two guys got away in that race and were never seen again, so they all gave up.) Anyways, the refs neutralized our race so we wouldn't barge into them, so things were calm with 10 miles to go. Breaktime. Then they neutralized the masters and we were given the green light to race. We zipped by smiling. Ha.
C) Last thing: I noticed my bottles going dry. Uh oh. Three bottles were all gone. Luckily I had managed them well and hamster-fed myself a bunch of clif bloks throughout the race by stuffing an entire packet in my mouth whenever I had the chance.
On the second to last hill, folks went ballistic. It was still a huge group, probably over half the field, and everyone knew their chances were slim. People rocketed up that steep kicker, but to no avail. I was up front hoping for a small break but nothing got space or stuck.
Then IT ended for me. My right hamstring was starting to cramp up so on every slight downhill or coast I would try to stretch it. F@&$! With 3 miles to go, I knew I had little chance. But I was in great position and was managing the legs ok.
This race was filled with pairs of guys from tons of teams, many from DC and most from the Southeast: us guys on NCVC, HPC-List, Rogues, CycleSafe, et al. I don't think any team had more than a pair of folks, which contributed to things sticking together, and probably the funnest and fastest few miles I've eve ridden.
With just a few miles to go, an HPC guy tore it up at the front and we were cruising. I had great positioning near the front on the left going up the last hill, sweet. Things got crowded really quickly and I had no clue where my one teammate was. With cramping legs I managed to put myself in third wheel of the main group, but three guys had gotten away with a few hundred meters to go.
Nobody was chasing, or maybe they just weren't chasing fast enough. I did. I basically burnt my last matches trying to bridge up to the three guys. Not to my liking, I ended up dragging the entire field behind me up to and past these folks right as the road opened to two lanes for the sprint. I got swarmed into the colorful cloud of the peloton, obviously, but my redemption came when I saw Brad come out of nowhere like a rabid banshee, weaving through like nine guys and throw his bike on the line. Holy crap, where was he?!?!
So I finished my longest road race mid-pack, in 25th place, content with how I raced the whole time and at least I could convince myself that maybe if I hadn't caught that break, Brad (and the field) wouldn't have either. Who knows. Overall, this was a great and fun race, and luckily safe too, sparing the absurd braking.
Last year, racing the cat 5, I felt like death for the better part of the race even though it was 18 miles shorter. This year I made it a small goal just to eat and drink smart, and race a smart race too. (Not to mention I actually rode my bike this winter.) I didn't race very aggressively, but I can live with that this time around. It's only February. For only my second Cat 4 race and my longest race yet, I felt great; the speeds and surges never took me by surprise or hurt too good until I chose to burn my last match.
After a trip to Germany and fighting a cold and sinus infection, I'm gonna sleep well tonight with no regrets. The first race in months is always the hardest to stomach for me and luckily I will be off the bike and onto the skis at Vail next week. That will be a great trip with my usual riding pal, D-Wis.
A few other thoughts:
- There was a tiny junior in my race. He must have been under 5 feet tall and it was impossible to draft off of him, even for me. But that kid could roll and he was probably 13. Kudos and prime cookies to him.
- A Lees Mcrae dude in my race was on a bike that didn't have tubes, but the frame was one huge metal fairing. Put it this way, it looked like an oven door on wheels. Solid metal sheeting on the side. I'd never seen this before and was surprised it was UCI legal. If anyone else saw it, post a link of that freak show bike.
- My friend Mike Brindza from UMD got attacked by a hawk in the middle of the Collegiate C race. Ha. It's just plain hysterical so I had to share. After the race he was running around asking evryone "Is my face okay?!" Classic.
I'm the last one awake in the hotel room, so I should crash. (Now I can use the word "crash" because I'm not racing tomorrow.) After waiting all day after watching Catherine's race (hey, it is valentines) and such a long race myself, I don't feel the need to wait 'til the late afternoon for a crit. After the collegiate races, we're headed home.
If you haven't raced down here before, I love this course and NCSU puts on great races (subtract the @$$-early start times for some folks). And where else do you get 18 mile laps?
Thanks for reading, and keep things rubber-side-down.
Who doesn't want to get the hardest race out of the way early on anyways? 54 miles in mid-February, bring it.
After all of the nerves and queasy feelings, I gotta say that once I started warming up on the bike, I felt much better. Aside from an exploding tube on some dude's bike at the start line, it was a boring round up. Off we went for a long haul. Perfect weather in the mid-50s and bright sun made for a great day to ride.
Being such a long race, I think a lot of folks in the field were anxious about warming up too much or going too fast too soon. That worked out great for me, who skimped out on a thorough warmup (none of this TT or crit warmup stuff). It took about half of the first lap (each lap was 18 miles long) for the pace to be recognized as anything competitive. I was in horrible position for the better part of that first lap, as guys were 3/4 wide and nobody seemed to be moving anywhere. If anything, the slow speeds were the biggest problem for safety. The word of the day in the Cat 4 peloton was "SLOWING!"
Guys were just not pedaling down hills or even on the latter half of rollers. Literally, my hands now hurt from the death grip I was forced to have on the hoods because of the decelerations. Luckily, things got better as the race went on.
If the first lap was that of slowing, the second was social hour. The pace was fairly quick and consistent, and I was comfortable all around. After the main turn by the staging area, which we were screaming through, I was able to get my butt into better position into the top dozen or so guys of the big field.
It just so happens that I sat on one guy's wheel for just about the entire second lap, so I didn't see much. I picked the perfect wheel, a dude the size of the jolly green giant that rode just like my pal drew. I was just comfortable there and knew that while I was inhis draft, near the front, I was doing very little work compared to mostguys and felt pretty safe.
On the last hill of the second lap, my big draft got too close to the front, in the wind, and took off. That ended social hour.
I didn't have to try very hard to stay in his draft after the hill but it woke everyone up. EVERYONE. A few miles later, like it was a prime lap, we went raging through the finish area at full gas ("balledak!) an into the scary downhill to uphill turn at a stupid click. It was fun, but dumb because the feed was coming up. I had brought an extra bottle in my jersey so I wouldn't have to hope for the feed, and I'm glad. With about 8 guys in front of me, we all bolted through the feed zone, up hill, out of the saddle. I gotta give mad props to my teammate Brad for hitting his feed bottle without a hesitation, at full speed. When he grabbed it, drink stuff exploded out of the cap everywhere but who cares? Sick move.
The third lap was actually somewhat like a race, at least it started and ended that way. We were hauling for a long while, a few solo attacks being chased down with ease. About halfway through that final, third lap a fee crazy things happened.
A) My teammate Brad attacked in a major lull. I tried to ruin the rotations that reacted to him, but after what I'm sure was a painful few minutes for him, he got reeled in. Probably the longest attack by anyone in our race, but still didn't get very far. Nobody got a chance although many tried and even I tried to follow a few surges. Everyone was waiting. Nothing stuck. Luckily for Brad who hung himself out to dry, though...
B) We caught up with the Master's Open race who had started a few minutes before us. What?!?! Cat 4s were catching up to the veterans in the open category? Woah. This is without saying that our pace was nothing to brag about. (Turns out two guys got away in that race and were never seen again, so they all gave up.) Anyways, the refs neutralized our race so we wouldn't barge into them, so things were calm with 10 miles to go. Breaktime. Then they neutralized the masters and we were given the green light to race. We zipped by smiling. Ha.
C) Last thing: I noticed my bottles going dry. Uh oh. Three bottles were all gone. Luckily I had managed them well and hamster-fed myself a bunch of clif bloks throughout the race by stuffing an entire packet in my mouth whenever I had the chance.
On the second to last hill, folks went ballistic. It was still a huge group, probably over half the field, and everyone knew their chances were slim. People rocketed up that steep kicker, but to no avail. I was up front hoping for a small break but nothing got space or stuck.
Then IT ended for me. My right hamstring was starting to cramp up so on every slight downhill or coast I would try to stretch it. F@&$! With 3 miles to go, I knew I had little chance. But I was in great position and was managing the legs ok.
This race was filled with pairs of guys from tons of teams, many from DC and most from the Southeast: us guys on NCVC, HPC-List, Rogues, CycleSafe, et al. I don't think any team had more than a pair of folks, which contributed to things sticking together, and probably the funnest and fastest few miles I've eve ridden.
With just a few miles to go, an HPC guy tore it up at the front and we were cruising. I had great positioning near the front on the left going up the last hill, sweet. Things got crowded really quickly and I had no clue where my one teammate was. With cramping legs I managed to put myself in third wheel of the main group, but three guys had gotten away with a few hundred meters to go.
Nobody was chasing, or maybe they just weren't chasing fast enough. I did. I basically burnt my last matches trying to bridge up to the three guys. Not to my liking, I ended up dragging the entire field behind me up to and past these folks right as the road opened to two lanes for the sprint. I got swarmed into the colorful cloud of the peloton, obviously, but my redemption came when I saw Brad come out of nowhere like a rabid banshee, weaving through like nine guys and throw his bike on the line. Holy crap, where was he?!?!
So I finished my longest road race mid-pack, in 25th place, content with how I raced the whole time and at least I could convince myself that maybe if I hadn't caught that break, Brad (and the field) wouldn't have either. Who knows. Overall, this was a great and fun race, and luckily safe too, sparing the absurd braking.
Last year, racing the cat 5, I felt like death for the better part of the race even though it was 18 miles shorter. This year I made it a small goal just to eat and drink smart, and race a smart race too. (Not to mention I actually rode my bike this winter.) I didn't race very aggressively, but I can live with that this time around. It's only February. For only my second Cat 4 race and my longest race yet, I felt great; the speeds and surges never took me by surprise or hurt too good until I chose to burn my last match.
After a trip to Germany and fighting a cold and sinus infection, I'm gonna sleep well tonight with no regrets. The first race in months is always the hardest to stomach for me and luckily I will be off the bike and onto the skis at Vail next week. That will be a great trip with my usual riding pal, D-Wis.
A few other thoughts:
- There was a tiny junior in my race. He must have been under 5 feet tall and it was impossible to draft off of him, even for me. But that kid could roll and he was probably 13. Kudos and prime cookies to him.
- A Lees Mcrae dude in my race was on a bike that didn't have tubes, but the frame was one huge metal fairing. Put it this way, it looked like an oven door on wheels. Solid metal sheeting on the side. I'd never seen this before and was surprised it was UCI legal. If anyone else saw it, post a link of that freak show bike.
- My friend Mike Brindza from UMD got attacked by a hawk in the middle of the Collegiate C race. Ha. It's just plain hysterical so I had to share. After the race he was running around asking evryone "Is my face okay?!" Classic.
I'm the last one awake in the hotel room, so I should crash. (Now I can use the word "crash" because I'm not racing tomorrow.) After waiting all day after watching Catherine's race (hey, it is valentines) and such a long race myself, I don't feel the need to wait 'til the late afternoon for a crit. After the collegiate races, we're headed home.
If you haven't raced down here before, I love this course and NCSU puts on great races (subtract the @$$-early start times for some folks). And where else do you get 18 mile laps?
Thanks for reading, and keep things rubber-side-down.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Raceday Eve in a Hotel
Ahh, the life of a bike racer.
Cat, myself, and two GW racers just checked into the Hampton Inn near Bumf*ck, NC. You have to love the nostalgia that comes with every first race of the season that you're packed into a hotel room with tons of bicycles, wheels, and heaps of spandex. It just so happens that three of us are riding Specialized bikes, too, and they're all lined up against one wall. Cute. They're like team bikes, but not.
This is so miserable - long drives, packed hotels, early mornings. Why do we do this? I guess we all really love this sport. I know I do. Plus, it's not too bad to camp indoors with your pals, as long as the guy you're sharing a bed with doesn't start spooning you...
Tomorrow I'll be racing for the first time in the red and white stars and bars of NCVC. I didn't have any jerseys of my own since the order comes in next month, so I'll be racing in my black shorts and borrowed jerseys. The team president even lent me an antique NCVC-Metropolis jersey he had hanging around. I had never even heard of a shop called Metropolis in DC before. But I think I'll sport that for fashion before and then wear some newer sponsors during the race. Probably the right thing to do, especially since the older jersey might operate like a rain coat by now.
Okay, well short message tonight. The girls have to hit the sack because the @$$hats who put on this race like starting things when the rooster starts howling. Thankfully for me, my race is at 2:30.
Cat, myself, and two GW racers just checked into the Hampton Inn near Bumf*ck, NC. You have to love the nostalgia that comes with every first race of the season that you're packed into a hotel room with tons of bicycles, wheels, and heaps of spandex. It just so happens that three of us are riding Specialized bikes, too, and they're all lined up against one wall. Cute. They're like team bikes, but not.
This is so miserable - long drives, packed hotels, early mornings. Why do we do this? I guess we all really love this sport. I know I do. Plus, it's not too bad to camp indoors with your pals, as long as the guy you're sharing a bed with doesn't start spooning you...
Tomorrow I'll be racing for the first time in the red and white stars and bars of NCVC. I didn't have any jerseys of my own since the order comes in next month, so I'll be racing in my black shorts and borrowed jerseys. The team president even lent me an antique NCVC-Metropolis jersey he had hanging around. I had never even heard of a shop called Metropolis in DC before. But I think I'll sport that for fashion before and then wear some newer sponsors during the race. Probably the right thing to do, especially since the older jersey might operate like a rain coat by now.
Okay, well short message tonight. The girls have to hit the sack because the @$$hats who put on this race like starting things when the rooster starts howling. Thankfully for me, my race is at 2:30.
$307.39 buys you a leadout man.
I often mention my rides with D-Wis, or Drew, my main riding pal. After cycling for GW's collegiate squad and graduating together he joined NCVC, and I recently joined the squad myself largely because I was already riding and hanging out with him and his group pretty often.
It's a weekly occurrence for D-Wis to be hauling @$$ at Hains point, delivering me across the imaginary finish line against the ego-bashing sprints groups. Well, last night, I learned the true price of a friendship held together by cycling (and beer).
Friendship costs $307.39. I guess that's the going rate for a Cat 4 leadout man.
NCVC had a team-discount night at our sponsor shop, Spokes Etc. The guys there dished out a number of 12-minute segments where we could talk to the manager and get any parts we needed at super deals. There were a limited number of spots, so all of the guys on the Stars & Bars squad help each other out.
D-Wis asked his roommate (also an NCVCer) if he could pick up some stuff for him, but the other Drew already had a shopping list full of items for other folks. Knowing that I had a slot and that Spokes was just a few minutes from my office, D-Wis sent me an email with a pretty heavy shopping list.
How is a short guy like me supposed to get away with buying size 45.5 cycling shoes? I don't know. But you know what they say about guys with big feet. Someone probably thought I ride packing heat in my chamois.
Steve and the guys at Spokes really took care us, so I thank 'em for it. So D-Wis now has some S-Works shoes on order, along with a few other items. Well, I should say that even thought I recently bought a pair of Sidi Genius 6.6s, I now also own a pair of S-Works shoes that are way too big for me. If D-Wis chooses, he can buy them back from me.
Luckily I know where D-wis lives so he can pay me back, but I know he's good for it. (At worst, he'll be buying my lift tickets for our upcoming ski-trip to Vail.)
It's a weekly occurrence for D-Wis to be hauling @$$ at Hains point, delivering me across the imaginary finish line against the ego-bashing sprints groups. Well, last night, I learned the true price of a friendship held together by cycling (and beer).
Friendship costs $307.39. I guess that's the going rate for a Cat 4 leadout man.
NCVC had a team-discount night at our sponsor shop, Spokes Etc. The guys there dished out a number of 12-minute segments where we could talk to the manager and get any parts we needed at super deals. There were a limited number of spots, so all of the guys on the Stars & Bars squad help each other out.
D-Wis asked his roommate (also an NCVCer) if he could pick up some stuff for him, but the other Drew already had a shopping list full of items for other folks. Knowing that I had a slot and that Spokes was just a few minutes from my office, D-Wis sent me an email with a pretty heavy shopping list.
How is a short guy like me supposed to get away with buying size 45.5 cycling shoes? I don't know. But you know what they say about guys with big feet. Someone probably thought I ride packing heat in my chamois.
Steve and the guys at Spokes really took care us, so I thank 'em for it. So D-Wis now has some S-Works shoes on order, along with a few other items. Well, I should say that even thought I recently bought a pair of Sidi Genius 6.6s, I now also own a pair of S-Works shoes that are way too big for me. If D-Wis chooses, he can buy them back from me.
Luckily I know where D-wis lives so he can pay me back, but I know he's good for it. (At worst, he'll be buying my lift tickets for our upcoming ski-trip to Vail.)
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Specialized Tarmac SL2 Di2. No joke, but surely a tease.
Perusing the Specialized web site today I noticed a new $9,900 addition to their online catalog: the Tarmac SL2 Di2.
Anyone who keeps up with cycling components is familiar with that last acronym. Di2 is Shimano's new pro-level Electronic Dura Ace groupset. Although the site doesn't have a picture up yet, I find it disturbing that they're advertising this already.
If you're familiar with how the bike industry works, well, a company called Quality Bicycle Parts (simply known as QBP or "Quality") is outsourced by most bicycle manufacturing companies to distribute the parts to shops and retailers. Well, as I learned from Competitive Cyclist (scroll down to "If Wishes Were Horses..."), Shimano doesn't use QBP for dealer-direct component sales because they make bigger sales building hundreds of bikes for frame manufacturers like Trek and Specialized. In addition to their own manufacturing delays, this puts a major damper on getting their components out.
For example, Cat is building up her new Tarmac Pro SL replacement frame and ordered all of the necessary parts through GW's sponsor shop, Bicycle Pro Shop in Georgetown (needless plug). The shop put the order in through QBP. No sweat.
All of the parts are in the shop, except one essential component: the Dura Ace 7900 compact crankset. Obviously, this is a hard part to come by, but the shop has already been waiting for the hunk of metal for a month, and still can't even guarantee a date for which it will arrive. Crappy, shimano, crappy.
So regarding the Di2 bike that is on the Specialized site: I warn you not to get too excited. It's some sort of marketing scheme.
At best, some team will use Di2 at the Tour de France and the hype will once again get a nudge in the right direction. Judging by the few groupsets of 7900 that I've seen around, I doubt that we'll see Di2 on our teammates' bikes any time soon, much less at the local shop.
Anyone who keeps up with cycling components is familiar with that last acronym. Di2 is Shimano's new pro-level Electronic Dura Ace groupset. Although the site doesn't have a picture up yet, I find it disturbing that they're advertising this already.
If you're familiar with how the bike industry works, well, a company called Quality Bicycle Parts (simply known as QBP or "Quality") is outsourced by most bicycle manufacturing companies to distribute the parts to shops and retailers. Well, as I learned from Competitive Cyclist (scroll down to "If Wishes Were Horses..."), Shimano doesn't use QBP for dealer-direct component sales because they make bigger sales building hundreds of bikes for frame manufacturers like Trek and Specialized. In addition to their own manufacturing delays, this puts a major damper on getting their components out.
For example, Cat is building up her new Tarmac Pro SL replacement frame and ordered all of the necessary parts through GW's sponsor shop, Bicycle Pro Shop in Georgetown (needless plug). The shop put the order in through QBP. No sweat.
All of the parts are in the shop, except one essential component: the Dura Ace 7900 compact crankset. Obviously, this is a hard part to come by, but the shop has already been waiting for the hunk of metal for a month, and still can't even guarantee a date for which it will arrive. Crappy, shimano, crappy.
So regarding the Di2 bike that is on the Specialized site: I warn you not to get too excited. It's some sort of marketing scheme.
At best, some team will use Di2 at the Tour de France and the hype will once again get a nudge in the right direction. Judging by the few groupsets of 7900 that I've seen around, I doubt that we'll see Di2 on our teammates' bikes any time soon, much less at the local shop.
Pablum
My friend Brian Cheung posted this on his facebook notes and well, I felt compelled to play along since it's a one-word game. Not bad.
USING ONLY ONE WORD! It's not as easy as you might think! Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on. It's really hard to only use one word answers. Be sure to tag the person you received it from!
1. Where is your cell phone? Cat's
2. Your significant other? wonderful
3. Your hair? gelled
4. Your mother? strong
5. Your father? necessary
6. Your favorite thing? Tarmac
7. Your dream last night? walking
8. Your favorite drink? Shiner
9. Your dream/goal? happiness
10. What room you are in? office
11. Your hobby? pedaling
12. Your fear? crashing
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? elsewhere
14. Where were you last night? Hains
15. Job Description? Analyst
16. Muffins? bottomless
17. Wish list item? zipps
18. Where you grew up? Virginia
19. Last thing you did? drive
20. What are you wearing? preppy
21. Your TV? LOST
22. Your pets? none.
23. Friends? Thumbmasters
24. Your life? comfortable
25. Your mood? sleepy
26. Missing someone? sister
27. Car? 3
28. Something you're not wearing? helmet
29. Your favorite store? BPS
30. Your favorite color? silver
33. When is the last time you laughed? yesterday
34. Last time you cried? crash
35. Who will resend this? nobody
36. One place that I go to over and over? Hains
37. One person who IMs me regularly? Cat
38. My favorite place to eat? couch
39. Why you participated in this survey? bored
40. What are you doing tonight? spending
41. Hot or Cold? cool
42. Beach or Mountains? hills
43. Name one person other than your spouse that you spend the most time with? D-Wis
44. Favorite animal? Liger
45. Favorite sports team? Argyle (oh wow, good answer Brian!)
USING ONLY ONE WORD! It's not as easy as you might think! Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on. It's really hard to only use one word answers. Be sure to tag the person you received it from!
1. Where is your cell phone? Cat's
2. Your significant other? wonderful
3. Your hair? gelled
4. Your mother? strong
5. Your father? necessary
6. Your favorite thing? Tarmac
7. Your dream last night? walking
8. Your favorite drink? Shiner
9. Your dream/goal? happiness
10. What room you are in? office
11. Your hobby? pedaling
12. Your fear? crashing
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? elsewhere
14. Where were you last night? Hains
15. Job Description? Analyst
16. Muffins? bottomless
17. Wish list item? zipps
18. Where you grew up? Virginia
19. Last thing you did? drive
20. What are you wearing? preppy
21. Your TV? LOST
22. Your pets? none.
23. Friends? Thumbmasters
24. Your life? comfortable
25. Your mood? sleepy
26. Missing someone? sister
27. Car? 3
28. Something you're not wearing? helmet
29. Your favorite store? BPS
30. Your favorite color? silver
33. When is the last time you laughed? yesterday
34. Last time you cried? crash
35. Who will resend this? nobody
36. One place that I go to over and over? Hains
37. One person who IMs me regularly? Cat
38. My favorite place to eat? couch
39. Why you participated in this survey? bored
40. What are you doing tonight? spending
41. Hot or Cold? cool
42. Beach or Mountains? hills
43. Name one person other than your spouse that you spend the most time with? D-Wis
44. Favorite animal? Liger
45. Favorite sports team? Argyle (oh wow, good answer Brian!)
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Back in the states and back on the bike.
I've got one more blog to post that I haven't yet loaded from my iPod Touch, but I figured it's time to add a few thoughts to the journal.
First of all, for the first time in about two weeks, I rode my bicycle last night.
Getting fat and sick by travelling to Europe was fun, but I hate not being able to ride. I even went to the [crappy] hotel gym one morning at about 5:30 AM to get an hour's worth of work in. Wow. I jumped on the erg and suffered for a 12-minute warm-up. Then I did 20 minutes on the bike until some other guy was about to cry seeing that there were no machines left (except the erg). I jumped back on the erg and let him use the bike.
Then I suffered more.
I am in pretty good shape for cycling. I feel that I can keep up with some quick riders and put the hurt on when it matters, or when I'm feeling frisky. But I'm out of shape. How do I know? I got on the erg. It sucked, but it was an eye-opening way for me to realize how fit I was back in my rowing days. The splits I was holding for this early-morning workout just plain sucked. A lightweight high school freshman girl would have laughed.
Anyways, I welcomed my sorry butt back to the sport of cycling last night when I met my man D-Wis at Hains for some laps in the evening. I had planned to get on the trainer while Catherine was at CycleLife, but it was nice out. It had been long enough; I had to ride.
Well, with only one lap to warm up, D-Wis introduced me to the night's workout: a 2 x 20. If you're familiar with 2 x 20s, this is a pretty intense workout where you can test yourself. You're supposed to do these at about 90% or more. However, when your teammate is half-wheeling you, it's gametime. Race pace.
I didn't really keep track of much, but D-Wis said we averaged 22.9 mph for the first interval and 22.8 for the second one. Ouch. We couldn't top it.
For an impromptu Tuesday night ride it turned out to be a great workout. I ended up riding 37.5 miles in 2 hours, 9 minutes. (I thought I was going out for a one-hour spin.) Not bad.
It's especially not bad if I'm going to race this weekend. That's right. This Valentine's Day is not one for love, romanticism, or pink hearts. It's about unleashing all sorts of hell and pain. Or perhaps hanging on for dear life as I enter the longest bike race I'll ever have done: the Wolfpack Road Race hosted by the NC State University cycling team.
A 54 mile Cat-4 bike race in February? That's as crazy as donkey nuts hanging like ornaments from a Christmas tree. And apparently, so am I, because I think I might just race after being off the bike while working in Europe and fighting an airline-induced cold from hell.
I admit, Saturday will be a bit about those mushy things, too. Cat and the GW cycling squad are gonna be racing the college scene, so I'll be doing my usual routine of watching her race and taking pics here and there. But I might abruptly stop that activity to freak out, warm up, freak out again, and try to collect myself before my own event.
So whether I'm hanging on for dear life (likely) or hanging tough (less likely) I'm excited. I'm nervous, but I can't remember a single race - rowing or cycling - that I didn't have a slight bit of uneasiness before toeing the start line.
Enough of that crap, it's making my stomach queasy. Is anyone else excited for the pro season? I definitely am. Have you seen the roster for the Amgen Tour of California? It's stacked with top-shelf pros.
A certain guy named Armstrong needs no description, nor does a guy named Levi. Tornado Tom will be in the Golden State battling it out for sprints against fellow fast-men Mark Cavendish and the God of thunder, THOR Hushovd. American veterans Hincapie, Zabriskie, and Vandevelde will make a cameo. 2009 Tour winner Carlos Sastre will be turning the pedals against many of his former protégés, two of whom are named Schleck. The others are known for their tenacity in every and any race: JENS VOIGT and Fabian Cancellara. The ToC will also prompt the return of three ex-dopers, all of which have contended for the podium in Paris: Ivan "Il Teribile" Basso, Floyd Landis, and current American champ Tyler Hamilton.
Now, I realize that I'm leaving out a plethora of contenders for this race, including domestic teams entirely. But holy popcorn, Batman, that's gonna be a great race - and it's on American soil.
First of all, for the first time in about two weeks, I rode my bicycle last night.
Getting fat and sick by travelling to Europe was fun, but I hate not being able to ride. I even went to the [crappy] hotel gym one morning at about 5:30 AM to get an hour's worth of work in. Wow. I jumped on the erg and suffered for a 12-minute warm-up. Then I did 20 minutes on the bike until some other guy was about to cry seeing that there were no machines left (except the erg). I jumped back on the erg and let him use the bike.
Then I suffered more.
I am in pretty good shape for cycling. I feel that I can keep up with some quick riders and put the hurt on when it matters, or when I'm feeling frisky. But I'm out of shape. How do I know? I got on the erg. It sucked, but it was an eye-opening way for me to realize how fit I was back in my rowing days. The splits I was holding for this early-morning workout just plain sucked. A lightweight high school freshman girl would have laughed.
Anyways, I welcomed my sorry butt back to the sport of cycling last night when I met my man D-Wis at Hains for some laps in the evening. I had planned to get on the trainer while Catherine was at CycleLife, but it was nice out. It had been long enough; I had to ride.
Well, with only one lap to warm up, D-Wis introduced me to the night's workout: a 2 x 20. If you're familiar with 2 x 20s, this is a pretty intense workout where you can test yourself. You're supposed to do these at about 90% or more. However, when your teammate is half-wheeling you, it's gametime. Race pace.
I didn't really keep track of much, but D-Wis said we averaged 22.9 mph for the first interval and 22.8 for the second one. Ouch. We couldn't top it.
For an impromptu Tuesday night ride it turned out to be a great workout. I ended up riding 37.5 miles in 2 hours, 9 minutes. (I thought I was going out for a one-hour spin.) Not bad.
It's especially not bad if I'm going to race this weekend. That's right. This Valentine's Day is not one for love, romanticism, or pink hearts. It's about unleashing all sorts of hell and pain. Or perhaps hanging on for dear life as I enter the longest bike race I'll ever have done: the Wolfpack Road Race hosted by the NC State University cycling team.
A 54 mile Cat-4 bike race in February? That's as crazy as donkey nuts hanging like ornaments from a Christmas tree. And apparently, so am I, because I think I might just race after being off the bike while working in Europe and fighting an airline-induced cold from hell.
I admit, Saturday will be a bit about those mushy things, too. Cat and the GW cycling squad are gonna be racing the college scene, so I'll be doing my usual routine of watching her race and taking pics here and there. But I might abruptly stop that activity to freak out, warm up, freak out again, and try to collect myself before my own event.
So whether I'm hanging on for dear life (likely) or hanging tough (less likely) I'm excited. I'm nervous, but I can't remember a single race - rowing or cycling - that I didn't have a slight bit of uneasiness before toeing the start line.
Enough of that crap, it's making my stomach queasy. Is anyone else excited for the pro season? I definitely am. Have you seen the roster for the Amgen Tour of California? It's stacked with top-shelf pros.
A certain guy named Armstrong needs no description, nor does a guy named Levi. Tornado Tom will be in the Golden State battling it out for sprints against fellow fast-men Mark Cavendish and the God of thunder, THOR Hushovd. American veterans Hincapie, Zabriskie, and Vandevelde will make a cameo. 2009 Tour winner Carlos Sastre will be turning the pedals against many of his former protégés, two of whom are named Schleck. The others are known for their tenacity in every and any race: JENS VOIGT and Fabian Cancellara. The ToC will also prompt the return of three ex-dopers, all of which have contended for the podium in Paris: Ivan "Il Teribile" Basso, Floyd Landis, and current American champ Tyler Hamilton.
Now, I realize that I'm leaving out a plethora of contenders for this race, including domestic teams entirely. But holy popcorn, Batman, that's gonna be a great race - and it's on American soil.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Eurotrip 2 - German Hospitality, etc.
(Written on 3 Feb 2009)
Okay, so I am staying in the Leipzig Westin, so it is not really like I am living off the economy yet.
The hotel is beautiful, even the rooms are beautifully unique in their décor: posh and fashionable. Not much space -the room is smaller than a normal bedroom - but the quality and 32" plasma tv make up for that.
The weirdest thing about the room is the bed. Although the bed is a normal full or queen, the comforter is not. It's smaller than a normal twin comforter in length and width, and when the bed is made it is laid horizontally. Luckily there was a fleece blanket in the room I could use to cover up at night.
Another new amenity here in Germany is Coca Cola Light. Even though I collect glass coke bottles, I had never seen these before; I will have to bring one home with me.
I am still waiting for my luggage, so I went to the nearby train station (which doubles as a map) to get a shirt and some essentials. Throughout the entire mall I did not see one pair of slacks or khakis; Eastern German fashion consists of worn-wash jeans and not much else.
I pretty much hate the French right now, who are holding my luggage hostage. Karma is a bitch. Air France delivered my boss's stuff last night but told me mine was enjoying an extended stay in Paris. If anything, this is a lesson to me: I obviously overpacked because it's my fourth day of travel and I still don't smell French.
...
Finally got my luggage (it is Tuesday night and I arrived Sunday). That is a great thing because I have to present to 300 folks tomorrow. No pressure.
I finally got to wander around Leipzig too, aside from the dismal mall yesterday. With a few other adventurous companions here, I walked the city in search of the famous church built in the 15th century that Bach played at.
After visiting three churches, we finally found the eight one, where I lit a candle for my mom, who I know would appreciate it. The need for a "nature break" cut our stay short and we appropriately ended up at a brauhaus that was on the other side of a narrow cobbled road from the old, large church.
The bar served two beers, of which I savored a schwarzbier before trying the pilsner. My-oh-my, if there is any law or general philosophy of life that I believe in, it has to be reinheitsgebot.
Probst!
Okay, so I am staying in the Leipzig Westin, so it is not really like I am living off the economy yet.
The hotel is beautiful, even the rooms are beautifully unique in their décor: posh and fashionable. Not much space -the room is smaller than a normal bedroom - but the quality and 32" plasma tv make up for that.
The weirdest thing about the room is the bed. Although the bed is a normal full or queen, the comforter is not. It's smaller than a normal twin comforter in length and width, and when the bed is made it is laid horizontally. Luckily there was a fleece blanket in the room I could use to cover up at night.
Another new amenity here in Germany is Coca Cola Light. Even though I collect glass coke bottles, I had never seen these before; I will have to bring one home with me.
I am still waiting for my luggage, so I went to the nearby train station (which doubles as a map) to get a shirt and some essentials. Throughout the entire mall I did not see one pair of slacks or khakis; Eastern German fashion consists of worn-wash jeans and not much else.
I pretty much hate the French right now, who are holding my luggage hostage. Karma is a bitch. Air France delivered my boss's stuff last night but told me mine was enjoying an extended stay in Paris. If anything, this is a lesson to me: I obviously overpacked because it's my fourth day of travel and I still don't smell French.
...
Finally got my luggage (it is Tuesday night and I arrived Sunday). That is a great thing because I have to present to 300 folks tomorrow. No pressure.
I finally got to wander around Leipzig too, aside from the dismal mall yesterday. With a few other adventurous companions here, I walked the city in search of the famous church built in the 15th century that Bach played at.
After visiting three churches, we finally found the eight one, where I lit a candle for my mom, who I know would appreciate it. The need for a "nature break" cut our stay short and we appropriately ended up at a brauhaus that was on the other side of a narrow cobbled road from the old, large church.
The bar served two beers, of which I savored a schwarzbier before trying the pilsner. My-oh-my, if there is any law or general philosophy of life that I believe in, it has to be reinheitsgebot.
Probst!
Eurotrip 1 - The First Leg
(Written 1 Feb 2009)
IAD to CDG -
So I am writing on my new ipod touch, which means my sentences will be brief and wandering. I am still not quite used to the touchpad but it's a fun toy. It sure is not as efficient as being able to type as fast as I think.
I am travellling to Germany for work and am flying through Paris to arrive in Leipzig. The flight is on Air France, which immediately impressed me when I boarded. First of all, the plane just looks cleaner than I am used to. Ironically, it's a Boeing, not an Airbus. I am sitting in the noisy rear but have an open seat next to me, as most do tonight.
The other guy in my row, who definitely smells French (b.o.!) is pretty cheery, even through a severe language barrier. We had fun teasing one of his friends when he couldn't turn the light out. The switch was on the tv remote.
Ugh, the plane just got louder. The sound reducing headphones are gonna come in handy.
So, the French know how to fly in style. There are awesome choices for movies and better quality food than I'm used to on domestic carriers. Not bad. Oh, did I mention that the flight attendants are gorgeous? They are like models! (Forgive me, Cat.) America continues to disappoint me with our fat-assesness.
I ate dinner with my family before the flight, but accepted the meal here anyway. I figure I paid for it, why not? Okay, so taxpayers paid for it since I am flying on the fed's dime. Might as well get our money's worth. The salmon was not bad, and the shrimp and bean salad was marvelous.
This flight is horribly turbulent, which makes typing on a touch screen a nasty task. Playing tetris on a touchscreen is is a lost cause too. Heck, we are somewhere over Nova Scotia right now but I have flown in Cessnas and been more comfy. Hopefully I will be able to get a nap. Ear plugs are a nice gift from the French flyboys taking me across the pond.
Nap time, we will see...
....
That was not as resting as I would have liked. But a few fun facts about the trip, courtesy of the tv on the back of the seats:
-we are going 554 m.p.h.
-we are 39,000 thousand feet up, somewhere above southern England
-It is -59 degrees outside up here
...
The plane landed early so we had enough time during the layover in Paris to take a detour on the RER B train where we were welcomed into the city by a soliciting violinist playing Beethoven (I think). The boss and I figured we would explore the city then head right back.
Just a thought: Getting through customs into Paris was almost scarily easy. With nobody else in line, the dude behind the counter flipped open my fresh-and-empty passport to a random page and stamped it without looking up.
We came out from underground at place les Halles and wandered, luckily in the direction of Notre Dame. We had time to grab a snack (just to be able to say we had lunch in Paris), so we grabbed an espesso and croissants at a bakery a few blocks down. Perfect, because there just happened to be another stop for the RER near the cathedral.
On our way back to the Paris airport I discovered how stupid the French are at urban planning. L'Enfant gave me a heads up from the charlie fox trot that is DC, but the airport is the opposite. It's like someone puked airport terminals all over the suburbs.
I am now waiting for the connecting flight to Leipzig and am trying to forgive the high caliber security employees here for thinking that a carabiner was a set of brass knuckles. (Dead serious.) Luckily, I am more than willing to toss it and spare creating a scene, but I would expect more from a country with some of the best climbers in the world. Oh well. (They seemed to enjoy checking my boss's projector for explosive residue.
Now, the coolest thing yet: we are sitting at Bert's Cafe Contemporain. And yeah, I had my boss take a picture.
Time to board...
IAD to CDG -
So I am writing on my new ipod touch, which means my sentences will be brief and wandering. I am still not quite used to the touchpad but it's a fun toy. It sure is not as efficient as being able to type as fast as I think.
I am travellling to Germany for work and am flying through Paris to arrive in Leipzig. The flight is on Air France, which immediately impressed me when I boarded. First of all, the plane just looks cleaner than I am used to. Ironically, it's a Boeing, not an Airbus. I am sitting in the noisy rear but have an open seat next to me, as most do tonight.
The other guy in my row, who definitely smells French (b.o.!) is pretty cheery, even through a severe language barrier. We had fun teasing one of his friends when he couldn't turn the light out. The switch was on the tv remote.
Ugh, the plane just got louder. The sound reducing headphones are gonna come in handy.
So, the French know how to fly in style. There are awesome choices for movies and better quality food than I'm used to on domestic carriers. Not bad. Oh, did I mention that the flight attendants are gorgeous? They are like models! (Forgive me, Cat.) America continues to disappoint me with our fat-assesness.
I ate dinner with my family before the flight, but accepted the meal here anyway. I figure I paid for it, why not? Okay, so taxpayers paid for it since I am flying on the fed's dime. Might as well get our money's worth. The salmon was not bad, and the shrimp and bean salad was marvelous.
This flight is horribly turbulent, which makes typing on a touch screen a nasty task. Playing tetris on a touchscreen is is a lost cause too. Heck, we are somewhere over Nova Scotia right now but I have flown in Cessnas and been more comfy. Hopefully I will be able to get a nap. Ear plugs are a nice gift from the French flyboys taking me across the pond.
Nap time, we will see...
....
That was not as resting as I would have liked. But a few fun facts about the trip, courtesy of the tv on the back of the seats:
-we are going 554 m.p.h.
-we are 39,000 thousand feet up, somewhere above southern England
-It is -59 degrees outside up here
...
The plane landed early so we had enough time during the layover in Paris to take a detour on the RER B train where we were welcomed into the city by a soliciting violinist playing Beethoven (I think). The boss and I figured we would explore the city then head right back.
Just a thought: Getting through customs into Paris was almost scarily easy. With nobody else in line, the dude behind the counter flipped open my fresh-and-empty passport to a random page and stamped it without looking up.
We came out from underground at place les Halles and wandered, luckily in the direction of Notre Dame. We had time to grab a snack (just to be able to say we had lunch in Paris), so we grabbed an espesso and croissants at a bakery a few blocks down. Perfect, because there just happened to be another stop for the RER near the cathedral.
On our way back to the Paris airport I discovered how stupid the French are at urban planning. L'Enfant gave me a heads up from the charlie fox trot that is DC, but the airport is the opposite. It's like someone puked airport terminals all over the suburbs.
I am now waiting for the connecting flight to Leipzig and am trying to forgive the high caliber security employees here for thinking that a carabiner was a set of brass knuckles. (Dead serious.) Luckily, I am more than willing to toss it and spare creating a scene, but I would expect more from a country with some of the best climbers in the world. Oh well. (They seemed to enjoy checking my boss's projector for explosive residue.
Now, the coolest thing yet: we are sitting at Bert's Cafe Contemporain. And yeah, I had my boss take a picture.
Time to board...
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