March 31, 2011
It truly feels like spring these days. Tumultuousness has manifested itself in many ways. All around are signs of rebirth. I mean grass. Also more birds. In order to aid this rebirth, we gather large amounts of timber to ignite and engulf with flame.

We then dance around the huge fires and drink the newly brewed Bock. And then the sacrifice. Yes the sweet sacrifice… $5 per pint. Or a couple hundred bucks for some kick-ass lawn ornaments. And then the carbon from the fires encourages the new growth of our artificially-forested fatherland and we begin the cycling anew! Yah.

But in order for rebirth, there must be DEATH! WARNING- Slight gruesomeness ahead! Yes, I am sorry to say that squirrel carcasses have been abundant during my pedaling excursions. As you can see, they are sometimes quite gruesome. These squirrelly animals have been littering the normally pastoral suburban streets I frequent.

So much so that I have started seeing their fluffy hides in places where they have not actually emitted their frisky death rattle. I see dead squirrels.  Even when they're not really there.  Get them out of my head! 

Yes, these cuddly critters are beloved by all, and often smushed by motor vehicles. I feel a shallow kinship with these creatures as I make my skittish way skittishly through life, precariously balanced atop my two-wheeled high horse.

But, according to my research, the pavement of my beloved multi-use paths that form the capillaries of the traffic circulatory system in our fair O-town are less littered with carcasses of our hyperactive companions. Yes, these furry urban roustabouts are much safer along these short-stretches of pastoral safety for mammals of all sizes. Dogs are generally leashed, bicycles and other wheeled forms of locomotion are much slower than their motorized brethren, and pedestrians are generally pre-occupied with their healthy actions as opposed to hunting or trapping the plentiful, delicious (?), abundant urban game. It’s a squirrelly paradise out there. I took a photo of this multi-use trail intersection that was carcass-free.

If there were squirrel carcasses to emit a slight stench anywhere along this capillary-like system, I’m pretty sure this would be the place. All of this is not to say that man-powered 2-wheelers cannot inflict fatal injuries on small rodentish attic invaders. Why, once I may have taken out a 13-striped ground squirrel on my knobby-tired Schwinn (I couldn’t tell if the squeak was from fright or pain).

So, drink your Bock and ride your high horses with me proudly my comrades as we circulate vaguely along the peripheries of our traffic system. Well, maybe that’s a wee bit o’ the Bock talk happening, but you get the inspirational drift. Yaahhh! Attack! It’s spring!

Jump back to hyperspace

March 28, 2011
Riding home today I suddenly felt that old, familiar “Star Warsy” feeling. Yes, the snowflakes were like stars and/or very soft, fluffy meteors as I piloted my craft onwards into the evening.

It was a pleasant sensation, and to keep the feeling awhile longer I stopped by the local Taco John’s to grab some bean burritos and ole’s for dinner.  As I aimed my craft towards my own version of a suburban "cantina" the flakes got steadily fluffier, as if tribbles were commiting suicide from the heavens!

All of this thinking about Star Wars and the indelible imprint it has left on so many lives led me to a sense of Luke-like questioning of my real nature.  What was this exciting world I piloted my craft through?  Was I on Tattoine in my trusty landspeeder, or had I progressed to an X-wing, aiming at the soft underbelly of the Death Star (just like shooting womp rats!)?  And, no, I was not on Hoth, because it was far too pleasant outside to even imagine that!  As I made my way back home I surveyed the local park, with its beautiful pseudo-nature, much like Tarzan liked to survey his jungle domain.

The keen-nostrilled among you may smell the astringent odor of nostalgia wafting through the air. My good friend Rich said it best when he said something like, “You know, I’m almost 40 and I don’t feel like I’ve matured at all! I don’t know why I ever trusted anything people my age said when I was a kid.”

I couldn’t agree more with this statement, although I also think immaturity is lasting longer and longer even as life expectancy and the average age for marriage increase.

Back in my younger years, besides actually giving some credence to the words of my elders, I recall freaquently feeling that adults were hypocritical sellouts. Well, I have to admit that, as much as I was reminded of Star Wars by the oncoming particles of white, I was also reminded of an artist that I had heard on NPR over the weekend and an album called “Photographing Snowflakes.” It was definitely the kind of pretentious-sounding, sensitive music that I would have scoffed at with derision as a youngster banging my head to Dio and Metallica. Badly Drawn Boy may have originated around the Manchester area (just like other nostalgic favorites of mine, EMF and the Happy Mondays), and was happily discovered at a time when many of the other local bands were trying to be the next Oasis. But these guys were different. Pretentious, but different. And I LIKE them, dammit. If that makes me a sellout, then so be it. I’m just a sensitive soul with a love for the perceptive, heartfelt lyrics of Badly Drawn Boy.
Check them out at

It’s maybe not their best song, but hey, sounds alright to this nearly 40-year-old mellow guy.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snmv5W9Wxxc

2 wheels spinnin' in the wind

March 22, 2011
How many 2-wheeled machines did you see today? Probably not many! It was a day where many of the 2-wheelers may have been hiding. My eyes were peeled for 2-wheelers after I noticed this at the library yesterday:

Hmmmm. Pretty sneaky placement for that scooter. It got me wondering about the stealthy nature of 2-wheeled contraptions in general. I tried to stay alert to their presence, tried to “tune in” ("2'n in? yuk, yuk, yuk) and feel the 2-wheeled vibe, so to speak. As I was really starting to feel it ,a family on 6 wheels (2 per family member, but they weren‘t in a dualie) nearly snuck past me without being photographed.

Well, that’s probably the best shot of 2-wheeled thingies that I got. Here are some others.

This 2-wheeler appears to have enhanced its camouflage by resting in an area next to its flashier companion (a St. Paddy's Day scarecrow if you can't quite make it out).  Kind of the opposite of the "ugly friend" strategy.

I probably wouldn't have found this one if I didn't already know it was there!

 

As the keen-eyed among us may recognize, all of these devices (besides the family of cyclists) are at least partially hidden behind something.  Yes.  Sneeeeaaky. 

You may also notice an absence of motorized 2-wheeled devices in my photo selection. I was slightly puzzled, until I convinced myself that motorcyclists are a bunch of wimps and prima donnas who don’t like the wind, or who were scared off by the chance of rain and thunderstorms this evening.  (And, yes, I am much bolder when typing than in real life)  I also noticed it was very windy and things appear to have started growing again! Time to plant something!

If you like 2-wheeled machines, you are bound to see a bunch at the Nebraska MS Bike ride (July 9-10). I just signed up for the ride. This’ll be the 6^th year. It’s a good time. This year the ride is from Omaha to Lincoln on day 1, Lincoln back to Omaha on day 2. You can also sign up for just day 1 if you like. http://bikenen.nationalmssociety.org/site/PageServer?pagename=BIKE_NEN_homepage

The Old Bastard

March 18, 2011

Warning: this blog is concerned primarily with bike geekiness. Continue reading at your own risk!
On the way home I stopped at the local bike shop (LBS) to inquire as to the possibility of getting a slightly larger cog for my converted-to-single-speed mountain bike commuter. I had made the conversion about 2 years ago to make the bike simpler and to have fewer moving parts and therefore fewer potential problems to deal with.

Well, I got into the shop and attempted to describe the part I needed- “a 20-tooth cog that can slide over the freewheel of a mountain bike.” My bike jargon is not the greatest, but I was still slightly surprised when the certified LBS-grouchiest of all retro-grouches that I’ve encountered, who had been suspiciously studying me sideways, stated, “Can’t be done,” and began muttering to himself.

I was well acquainted with this retro-grouch, as I had actually purchased the bike in question from him in 1991 ($400). I was not sure that my description was accurate and/or easy to comprehend, and so I offered to bring the bike in so they could have a look. His partner (obviously the more customer-oriented half of the duo) affably agreed.

I got the bike in there and the retro-grouch stated, with what I interpreted as a kind of cautious-near-enthusiasm, “Oh, yeah, that’s an old, bastardized Bridgestone,” and began to mutter grouchily to himself, questioning why this set-up had come into existence. I was a little surprised because I thought that single-speed conversion had become fairly commonplace these days.

I said, “Well, I’m just a little tired of working so hard, I’d like a slightly larger cog on here.” He eyed the other cogs on the freewheel, and I explained they were just there for spacers. The affable one went in back for a minute and came back and informed me all they had was a 17 toother.

I thanked them and left, thinking to myself, “Hmmm. That’s one guy that doesn’t seem to mellow with age, if anything I think he’s become more cantankerous.”

I rode home and found the part online for around $6 and placed my order. After further thought about the incident at the LBS, I realized that one good thing about the experience is a good nickname for the bike: “Old Bastard.” Somehow I think our beloved retro-grouch would be very slightly, grudgingly amused by it.

SPD action!

March 17, 2011
St. Paddy’s Day. I sent out an e-mail to some buddy’s to see if they wanted to get out for some hi-jinks and was turned down flat and/or flatly ignored.
Thu, March 17, 2011 8:11:30 AM
Green Taco Ride?

From:	Bike Snot
To:	A lotta friends. Yeah, that’s right, I’ve got TONS of friends.

　
Toppa the maahrning to ya laddies!
Anyone feel like a double dose of danger with a Taco Ride/St. Paddy's Day Ride
and/or Duathlon? I was thinking we could either stick to 2 wheels and start up
at the north end of the Keystone, or we could lock the bikes up somewhere in the
White House/Old Chicago area, drive north to the trailhead and then run back for
nourishment and a bike ride back. Other variations are, of course, possible....
Sorry for the late invitation, but today kinda snuck up on me.
Hope to see you soon!
Steve MacJacobson


Ah the life of a middle-aged, non-advanced-planning grump! Well, the lack of comradeship would not deter me from starting off on my mission to fun.

On my way home a guy tried to beat me off the line at the intersection (I was, perhaps unwisely in hindsight, sidewalk in’ it, while he was looking trust-fund-kiddish: sporting an SUV , a goatee and swanky shades). I knew he had seen me, so I managed to get out in front of him as he slammed on his brakes and I flipped him the bird (yes, my bike diplomacy has gradually improved over the years, but it still ain’t perfect). He loudly informed me (in not so many words) that he would have preferred to go before me. Well the adrenaline got me pumped for pedaling back home towards St. P Day fun.

Since I was flying solo, I decided to start with a run at a place called Winchester’s that I mistakenly thought was at a tract of land occupied by Bushwhackers and (around back) Bushrockers because "even cowboys like a little bit of rock & roll":

After I found the actual Winchester’s, I began to implement my slightly complicated plan by locking up my bike a couple miles from Winchester’s. Than I stuffed my backpacky-thing with lots of bikey things, including a seat+seat post and these outrageously ugly new cycling shoes. (Hey, they’ve got a carbon fiber sole and they were on sale!)

Yeah, it was pretty full,

and promptly blew a strap when I tried to backpack it. Being versatile if absolutely necessary, I slung it over one shoulder- man bag style and began my slow run towards my bicycle.

I started off by taking a quick run on the tracks of the local roller coaster, (yeah, pretty friggin’ intense dudes!)

I eventually made it back to my bike, (after dark) and noticed signs possibly related to St. Paddy’s Day-(or just long bike-ride/run)-related public urination.

Had a nice bike ride back to Winchester’s, blew out the bottom of the other pack strap, and briefly wore it as a kind of albatross-like medallion (ala “Rime of the Ancient Mariner“)

before switching it back to man-bag style.

Made it back to Winchester’s for some mad karaoke fun. Yow! SPD rocks!

Astride the Divide (part 2)

March 16, 2011
I stopped and answered my phone to chat with stepmother while lying on a concrete sewer manhole pad. Smelled a little funny, but felt great! There were some cheery cirrus clouds up there and such a blue sky!

 Good livin’! I eventually noticed that the movie started in 25 minutes, so I finished my leisurely winding journey to the theater. A helpful man named Bob told me I could park inside. Great!

Grabbed some grub from the neighborly grocery, a beer at the theater and I was ready for leather-like upholstered, theater chair adventure! Got in there to find a very crowded house. I was shocked to see so many sporty people in Omaha, not to mention in an unlikely setting such as a movie theater.

A guy named Gary introduced the movie. He was from Colorado Springs and made some complimentary remarks about Omaha and how he mentioned moving here to his wife, who would have none of it. Yeah Gary, I’m sure you really tried to convince her to trade Garden of the Gods and the Olympic training center (sigh, my Olympic ping-pong dreams of yore) for Henry Doorley Zoo and the College World Series. Thanks for your patronization.
The movie started and a man named Mike had just turned 40 and apparently gone over the edge and now wanted to climb back onto the edge of the Continental Divide for some long distance sufferfest known as the “Tour DeVide.” Groan. When I am feeling peppy I just go for a ride around town, what is it with these people?! Mike also spoke of the spiritual nature and a “vision quest” that he felt would be included in the tour package. I didn’t know how serious he was about the vision quest because his eyes (the window to his mysterious soul) were hidden by some black, undoubtedly polarizing-lensed, Oakleys. (Later on in the movie I’m pretty sure I saw him discreetly approach first a mule deer and then a black bear and whisper, “Dude! Are you my totem?”)
Luckily, since he demanded a lot of camera time, the winner of the race was a fairly likable guy named Matthew. After the ride portrayed in the movie, he had his first son, and then returned to the Tour DeVide for his 6^th go-round!? I guess he’s better at biking than diaper-slinging.
Got out of the theater before Gary tried to pawn off some of his swag on us innocent movie-goers. Still great riding weather, plus I could ride fearlessly in the nearly vacant streets. Spring, I love you!
　

Astride the Divide (part 1)

March 16, 2011
Well, I have to say that I’m pretty impressed with the big turnout at Ride the Divide, a movie about 16 cyclists who undertake to ride the Continental Divide from Banff, Canada down to the Mexican border. Not at a leisurely pace, either. Mostly more than 100 miles per day! My God, why do these people hate their own asses?! Nine of them had the common sense to bail by about half way or less. The others pressed stubbornly on!

More about the flick later. First let me tell you that afternoon biking has definitely gotten pretty sweet lately. Because of the nice weather in the afternoon, I decided to pedal over to the movie theater for the showing of RtD, a movie brought to us by Greenstreet Cycles and a fundraiser for Omaha Bikes. It was sunny and warm and I was taking a new route, which to me is quite a thrill! Yes, I rarely get out and about much anymore. I cycled wildly as fast as I could spin that crank towards the bike path. Once I got there I said “Ahhh!” I had the trail to myself. I kicked back and took a photo of my handlebars,
http://www.ecovelo.info/ Plus, I am inordinately proud of my handlebar compass (which doesn’t really seem to point in the right direction that often, but it makes me happy).  Oh and a snotty aside to the descriminating viewer, yes, the faux shifter is part of a classic 7-speed Shimano Integrated System (SIS) .

because I’d seen that shot several times at one of my favorite websites

Ride the Divide

March 15, 2011

I am excited to report that I am on my way to see Ride the Divide.  http://www.greenstreetcycles.com/event/ride-the-divide/

I’m sorry for the late notice, but I usually don’t keep up on these things very well.  Also I am often rendered nearly immobile by a debilitating sense of thriftiness (this baby is 15 big ones!  [special day of the show mark-up] Zoiks!)  Well, I guess I don’t mind, because the big bucks go to support a local bike advocacy group. 

Hope to see you there.

zee lady and Z Lake

March 14, 2011
Firstly, I’d like to thank you all for your positive comments regarding my latest undertaking, aka Bike Snottery.

Secondly, I must start off by mentioning what many of you may already know: the brouhaha down at zee lake yesterday appears to have been due to three bucks that were stuck in the muck!? The hovercraft was out there trying to rescue the unfortunate critters. http://www.wqad.com/news/sns-ap-ne--deerrescued,0,7619383.story Two of the three deer did not survive the rescue attempts, but one did. It appears that the 2 deaths may be due to over sedation. I sad story, indeed. Similar, in some respects to the story of a formerly hot centerfold model you may have heard of named Anna Nicole Smith. Now, despite the setting of the stage, I do not intend to engage in any “muck-raking” here. In fact, I feel kind of sorry for that dreadful pun, which is pretty unusual for me. “What,” you may ask, “does ANS have in common with the 3 bucks?” Well, besides the unfortunate effects over medication, a rather singular piece of music seems to recall the situation of the late Smith and her stagly companions in the eternal etherworld (I like to picture them frolicking about as amorous fauns and a young, naive nymph princess). It is this piece of music: Texan Tenbrae by Marc-Anthony Turnage, a pre-quel to his opera about Anna Nicole Smith. I am serious. If you don’t believe me, and you have a hankerin’ for some moody, romantic-sounding classical music, I think you can hear it here- http://cso.org/ListenAndWatch/Details.aspx?id=15586

Well, as you may know, spring is right around the corner, and boy was I feeling it today. This "springing ahead"stuff sure got me feelin' peppy.   I sprang out of bed and out the door to this beautiful vision of a world reborn!

Well, maybe not currently reborn, but the vague possibility of future rebirth….., maybe?

Luckily after getting to work, I was literally glowing with the happiness of the beautiful sunrise which greeted me as a promise that this week was a new week, and I could make it the best one yet!

Well, maybe not an actual sunrise, but definitely some potential that the sunrise would show up later….. Probably while I was at my cube.

I shucked that pessimistic attitude right off on my way home, however. It was be-yuuuu-tiful out there, and the sun was high in the sky and life was good! I even went back to Z-Lake for some more sight-seeing.  Ah!  Pseudo-nature in early bloom.  Quite a day, indeed!

Z-mussel Shoals Expedition 3-13-11

March 13, 2011

Like countless others, I was thankful to have a decent excuse not to make it to church this morning. It was the dreaded “spring ahead” time of year. So, after a leisurely start to the day, a good caffeine boost helped me convince myself that I oughtta get out and about. Since I am not a current exerciser, I took a snap shot to document my physical fitness level for comparison to my later progress.  I quickly donned my tights, shorts, running shoes and a fleece to keep me comfortable on my recreational venture.

When I got down to Lake Zorinsky I saw signs warning me to keep out of the mud, ice and water that currently constitutes the puddled life blood of the once thriving urban ecosystem known to locals fondly as “Lake-Z” (or is it “Z-Lake”?) due to zebra mussel (Dreissena polymorpha) infestation.  Well, that put a damper on my zest for adventure, since I had pictured myself out in the “mussel shoals” gathering the razor-sharp, dime-sized critters for my homemade table-top fountain, taking photos and otherwise indulging my curiosity.

I have often imagined people asking me, “How do you maintain your physique?” and my imagined response, “Well ,a healthy dose of monthly outdoor adventure trek/runs, bicycling and an interest in science.” So with this unwieldy mantra filling my head, I kept on my chosen, slightly revised path to excitement.

Once I got down to the Z-Lake proper, two recumbent tricycles passed me with some persistent bell-ringing to accompany their duck-like swooping down towards the lake-surface-like parking lot. When I finally got down to the part of the path where the lake shoals were visible, I noticed that there were lots of tires and mud currently visible where once before had stood the pseudo-nature of the Z-Lake’s surface. As I alternated my half-hearted alternating walk/running activity, I quickly became bored, and my legs went numb. “Hmmm. Here’s a good chance for an off-path shortcut,” I noticed. So I made my way off the path through the brush and brambles with seeds sticking to my fleece, and some unauthorized mud sticking to my shoes. (In hindsight I’m guessing this was where I picked up the Zebra musselitis affliction I was later stricken with).
Once I emerged from the dense brambles, I quickly plucked the various stickers from my fleece and continued towards the west side of the Zebra mussel lake (known affectionately by locals, simply as “Z-Lake”). I noticed a police car and a pickup truck/trailer combo along the path on the west side of Z-Lake (known by Francophiles as zee lake). At first a assumed that a horseback rider had taken his trusty steed out for some lake bottom riding and had the animal unhappily mired in the sticky mud and fish guts of Z-Lake. But then I noticed a large squad of gawkers gathered at various vantage points across the lake. I eagerly strolled towards the crowd (an unexpected delight for me to encounter on a cool March afternoon such as this!). I took a snapshot with my trusty Nikon Coolpix of the otherworldly hovercraft which appeared to have gracefully glided across the muddy lake bottom, and was now crawling along the edge of a lake channel and sucking the zebra mussels from their recently captured-by-invasion home. I wasn’t really sure what they were doing out there, since my transition lenses become quite dark in cool weather and I had unfortunately neglected to bring my binoculars on my expedition. I didn’t let this uncertainty stop me from wildly conjecturing to a lady from the Ashland area (county 6 on the license plate) that they were out there sucking up the z-muss.

Well, I made it around the entire half of the non-cordoned off part of the lake and back to my comfortable home, only to find that I had apparently contracted a severe case of Z-musselitis. Slightly larger than dime-size, I will no doubt soon be taken into quarantine like the west-half of zee lake. I hope that this final, post-incarceration document will allow my whereabouts to be obtained with a minimal amount of investigation.

P.S.: also noticed an exciting, organized trail run which will soon be taking place at the Platte River State Park on April 2- with the enticing sponsorship of the Upstream Brewery promising me some tasty post-activity refreshment to sooth my sore mussels and ego following the sure to be trying ordeal.