Dead batteries? Bike Swanson!

September 21, 2011

On the way to my place of work at the goblins' Halloween workshop where I build scary props this time of year, a car took a right turn in front of me such that I had to apply approximately 1/3 of the stopping power of my cantilever braking system. I was slightly surprised, since this hasn't happened to me for a while here in our peaceful piece of paradise we call HOmeaha. It wasn't until I reached the subterranean, secret goblin workshop that I realized that the batteries in my extremely bright Planet Bike Superflash taillight were as dead as the polyurethene corpses I was tasked with creating at work that day.

As I was homeward bound I decided to duck into a local grocery for some AAA batteries. Yes, the Superflash takes the AA's pint-sized, whiny younger brother known as AAA. The girl at the register informed me that she hated dead batteries, and that she probably had to deal with them more often than most. She said having dead batteries was like toasting a waffle that you're excited about eating, only to find that you are out of syrup! She went on to state that, "I'm really good at coming up with metaphors." Yes she was, I agreed, and informed her that she might make a good writer. "I'm the editor of the school newspaper." she replied.
"That's great!" I stated.

I haven't actually decided yet, but I am considering hiring her as a freelance metaphor conjurer as that is clearly something that I struggle with more frequently than the waffle-with-no-syruppy deadness of batteries.

September 24, 2011

I made it out for a spin down to Swanson Park for some off road excitement today and boy was it grand! Once I made it onto the Keystone Trail of multi-uses I saw many road bicycle jockeys who were clearly "in the zone" and "working it." At Swanson I was overtaken by a headphone-wearing dude with slightly screechy disc brakes (perhaps the reason for the headphones, or maybe the headphones were the reason for the screechy brakes?) who also appeared to be "in the zone" although I'm pretty sure it was a more laid-back, groovy (albeit zippy) zone. Because he was wearing headphones, (and also because I was winded when I pulled over to let him pass me) I wasn't able to ask him what his favorite Badly Drawn Boy album was, but I'm pretty sure that it is "Hour of the Bewilderbeast," because that's my favorite too.

My transition from the Old Bastard to Shifty was fairly smooth, unlike the shifting on those pesky 9-speed chainrings I got suckered into using. I wish they had stuck with the 7-speed sprocket set because it shifted more smoothly and required less attention, grump, gripe, etc.

Nonetheless, I had a great time and after I got my off-roading in, I was able to kick back on my way home and observe acres of beans that appeared about ready for harvesting.

I also beheld the heart-warming spectacle of a mother, father, baby team enjoying the disc golf activities at Seymour Smith park. Although I would have liked to document this moment with a photograph, I was too enraptured with this site of familial tranquility to get the shot. There were also some hippy-ish sorts and some Husker Pride partiers who were recklessly combining a Husker game day buzz with a disc golf buzz without regard to the consequences.

Rock on, outdoor Saturday people, r-o-c-k the f on!

Thanks for the help!

September 20, 2011

Warning: this post is a bit on the messy side.

I occasionally lapse into a kind of lethargic guilt-funk, brought on, more often than not, by heavy drinking and the embarrassing release of some kind of bodily fluid. Well, I'm starting to feel better now, and I think I'll be back to normal after I get this out of my system (again). I feel a need to purge myself of these feelings, much like I purged my stomach of three liters of German beer after my somewhat embarrassing adventure out into our local Oktoberfestivities.

I was so excited about Oktoberfest and Friday that I left work, grabbed a sandwich and headed to the local German American Society.

I bumped into some people I knew, consumed a delicious Warsteiner dunkel, and kind of wandered about. As a progressed into a Spaten Oktoberfest, some friends and family arrived, ready to get festive.

By the time I had finished another Oktoberfest I was feeling pretty good....until I went outdoors and tried interacting with the outside world. Waves of nausea alternated and coincided with waves of jack-assery as I floundered about like a penguin at a sand volleyball game. I apparently tackled a sign and tore my pants (I bet a good pair of lederhosen would've held up!), lost my glasses twice and splashed (i.e., vomited), mostly outside my buddy Rich's truck. Here I am feeling nauseous and resting on a dumpster.

On Monday I managed to forget to zip up the Old Bastard's fanny pack and my wallet was once again (I lost it once a few months ago as described here) disgorged unceremoniously from OB's backside. I got the wallet back a couple hours later when a kind man with a youthful moustache arrived at my house. He refused a reward, although if you change your mind, stop on by again and I will make you a peanut butter and tomato sandwich, mmmmm! Thanks again man.

Some people seek out risks. Others avoid them. Today, I was reminded that risk is sometimes not a choice. This situation is demonstrated by most Jackie Chan movies, where Jackie is going about his regular life until he suddenly has to fight and/or flee large gangs of heavily armed villains. Spoiler alert- this video is 13 minutes long...

Today risk found me in the form of an ugly, double-headed monster known as severe flatulence coupled with diarrhea, or flaturrhea. I am not sure what brought this on, but I wonder if it might've been the large amounts of Kentucky Wonder Beans from the garden I've been consuming steadily for the past few days.

Well, the week's admittedly been off to a bumpy start, but I've got some clean pants and a few pairs of wheels, and lots of help from the rest of humanity. See you on the road, or maybe by the dumpster...

Get woody with it!

It has recently come to my attention that not only is steel real, but wood is good. Here are a couple examples from real life encounters.

As all bicyclists with a penchant for internet surf-biking know, bamboo bicycles are the new eco-friendly, two-wheeled kids on the block. The slightly popular artist known as M.I.A. even has a song that I believe may be related to bamboo bicycles. Here it is-

　
Now here’s a wooden bicycle this kid made when he was 16 (just think of all the play he'll be getting now that he's got this sweet ride to roll his obnoxiously brilliant ass around on).

Here's a more functional looking woody.

Mahogany cycle by Sueshiro Sano.

But does bamboo qualify as wood? Some would say that the bamboo plant is a grass, not a tree. Perhaps it's both? Let me look into that, I'll get right back to you because, let's face it, you have an inquisitive mind and you want to know. The great thing about bamboobikes is that if you happen to be cycling in a bambooby area of the world and you break your frame, you can just heft your trusty khukri (or equivalent) chop some bamboo and replace your chainstay without skipping a beat.
　In quaint sidewalk cafes (avec accente, sil vous plais) and coffee shops across our great land the debate about whether or not wood or grass is the superior bicycle-building material may be heard and/or engaged in, but may not be avoided. Wood may be affected by moisture — as steel is affected by temperature. For example, as all of us cyclistos and istas are aware, Young’s modulus of expansion for Tange 7071 cro-moly, blah, blah, blah. This makes cycling on Mars a jarring experience, whereas Venusian cycling is noted for its soft liquidity. Morning wood is often expanded and filled with fluid, whereas by noon it has regained it's more typical girth. Here is a shot of the morning wood I am faced with most every morning.

As you can see, it is rather crude and blocky but awkwardly functional. This wooden bicycle rack

was created by this man,

with some assistance by yours truly, back in our halcyon years (we were both well over 16, unlike our young woody-exhibiting, over-achieving genius previously mentioned). As the exceptionally perceptive of you may have observed, it doesn’t really fit that well in my garage, therefore I will plan on wittling it down to size with my recently purchased multitool.

This will also allow me to get some practice with this tool prior to my higher profile home improvement project — installation of a rotating bookcase that allows access to a wooden pole for sliding down to my garage for quick access to bicycling action! Perhaps I will also try to create a wooden bicycle to impress my coffee housemates. So hop on that woody and get to it!

Here's an event (October 8th) that could be considered a kind of Omaha triathlon because it involves bicycling, beer drinking and football watching.  It's sponsored by Lucky Bucket, and it's got 2 ride options- a road/paved trail with brewery tour and an off-road ride at Swanson Park with an after party with NU vs Ohio State (ahhh!  Pretty spooky, eh kids?)

Poet's Perch

September 8, 2011

I noticed this vehicle quite ably fighting the rush hour traffic this eve.

This was one tractor with some low-end torque! It zipped along with the flow of traffic on a 40-mph thoroughfare.

This sexy tractor more heads than a Corvette, plus it'll plant your corn, if you don't keep an eye on it.

As I described in a recent entry, I recently happened upon an independent-thinking, hip urban youth ready to kick it for a bit at this location, which I shall henceforth think of as "Poet's Perch."

As you undoubtedly have discerned, Poet's Perch would make an ideal elevated stage for some type of recital or concert. It might also serve as a comfortable deck-like structure from which to gaze in elevated spirits upon one's surroundings. This carefree youth has sparked my imagination as to the possible artistry that may occur in this neglected environment. This underpass/multi-use trail was transformed in my mind into Omaha's version of the subway, where Shakespeare was enacted to generously tipping travelers and musicians of all genres tootled and strummed singingly. A crossroads between the motored and human-powered vehicles, the pastoral shade and the bustling traffic above. And indeed as I left the perch I was still able to discern the tracks of the earlier percher upon this poetic pedestal.

Our paths had crossed, albeit on different days.

Incidentally, this perch was reminiscent of the lovely elevated stage present at the local German-American Society, which will be hosting it's annual Oktoberfest this September 16 and 17. Good beer, meaty food, music and dancing, so slap on some lederhosen and feathered alpine cap for some autumnal gaiety.

Just as my thoughts began to return to the more complicated stresses of daily life, this sunshiny bicyclist

Notice trail of sunshine he leaves behind him!

called out to me happily, "Steve!"

This dapper Willy Wonka of happy bicyclist-motorist diplomacy bears a striking resemblance to this scruffier man-

His suncycle also sports a comfortable cup-holder and bright bell, as shown here.

Quite a contrast from the dark, brooding, dirty Old Bastard and his goblin-like jockey. I seem to elicit scowls and scorn, even occasional egg-tossing, with my taciturn visage and intentional lack of interest in motorists.

I have recently noticed that there are several intriguing rides coming up which I would like to attend, check these out-

Setting the Pace Bike Education and Ride Event this Saturday at Walnut Creek Recreational Area (9:00 a.m.) drops some knowledge about cycles for the disabled and raises some funds.

Discover Omaha Bike Tour - Historic Parks and Boulevards Sunday September 25 (1:00 to 4:00 p.m.) at Stinson Park (Aksarben Village)

In addition I will plan on attending the ever-popular Beer and Bagel Run on November 6. Yes, I am once again in training for cycling's elder bully of a brother - running. To that end, I have occasionally been donning my Neonderthal hooves and gallumphing about, primarily to the grocery store for beer and spaghetti sauce. Although I don't think I've quite gotten my land legs, I intend to put in a feeble effort and enjoy some tasty beverages (after the shaking and nausea subsides) to temporarily numb the pain.

So get in touch with your inner poet after inflicting some pain and/or soreness on your protesting limbs.  The bard doth require it!

Nacho typical Tuesday ride

September 7, 2011

Yesterday I joined a group of Nacho Riders on the lovely Mopac Trail. The Nacho Ride takes place on Tuesday nights at around 5:30, and is an out and back ride between Lincoln and Eagle, Nebraska. I met up with my friend Ben and company and together we set off on our merry way.

The trail was elevated above the surrounding land, affording nice views of some rural buildings and landscapes.

I took a photo of Scott's classic steel frame, along with his bicycle.

Hey.  You wanna see this Fuji erupt?

The midway point of the ride is a great little bar called the One Eye Dog Saloon that includes outdoor seating, great service and a good vibe. While dining, Tara informed me that the Rush song "Trees"

somehow alludes to the Lord of the Rings series. Although I am skeptical, I will look into this.

On the return trip I was fascinated by a green taillight which stared at me like a one-eyed, feral hobbit (and no, I don't want to meet your one-eyed hobbit, thank you very much).

Needless to say, it has been quite an eventful couple of days for this working stiff, what with a trip to Ponca State Park and then a bicycle ride from Lincoln to Eagle and back. Time to kick back and relax a bit with a brew and thoughts of upcoming yard work. Might even kick back on the bike trailside recliner/underpass as I saw a young man doing on my way home today. I'm pretty sure this personage is a downtown-dwelling urbanite/musician who may have taken a wrong turn and ended up out in our suburban fields. After taking stock of his surroundings, this hip urban spirit calmly reclined above the maddening pace of the multi-use trail to record his thoughts in a journal or perhaps to pen a whimsical song of nonconformity. Ahh, the joys of youth.

Campy Neonderfall fun!

September 5, 2011

As a yard banner in the RV section of Ponca State Park stated, "Camping is s'more fun!"
"In-deedy-dubitably, neighborino!" I chortled as we passed by.

Yes, the extended weekend American dream getaway was being lived in the beautiful environs of northeastern Nebraska. S'mores were eaten, beer was drank, frogs were caught, and gassy tales of terror were told.

This morning I awoke and slapped on my Neonderthal skins

 for a trip down to the riverside. It was on this morning expedition that I felt as if I were on the Ewok planet Endor.

Although I did not find any homicidal, fuzzy, cute savages, I did come across a few prints.

I am no boy scout, but I think the prints to the left were left by the forepaws of a raccoon. Like state politician Jon Bruning I often associate raccoons with welfare recipients, so it wasn't more than a jiff or two before I was convinced that a cult of welfare recipients with pet raccoons and twisted rituals were living on this habitat created by the recent flooding and the closing of the Corps of Discovery Trail, which had formerly been frequented by decent, God (regular, non-cult variety)-fearing, state park fee-paying citizens.

I tried to stay on the alert to possible cultists as I traipsed about shooting photos

and enjoying the feeling of the mud and sand on my Neonderthal skin-covered toes. Ah, yes. This is living! On the way back, I documented some of the clues about these cultists (just in case they are wanted by the law). It appears that they may drink Stroh's beer.

They also worship small, cross-like sticks,

which may represent a bird of some sort (my guess is turkey vultures, since they were present in force along the steep, loess cliffs adjacent west of the river).

I also encountered a tree named Old Oak.

This oak's reported age is 367 years young! That's older than bicycles, by gum! Old Oak Trail seemed to be a pretty good area for all-terrain-bicycles, although I didn't see any of them during my stay.

Scenic views were to be had along Buffalo Run Trail.

Many activities were available, including hayrack rides, night hikes, beginning kayaking, and kids+bugs=squishy, squeely fun-for-all. All-in-all a great extended weekend getaway. There's also the ever-popular haunted hayrack rides coming up in October.

Although I doubt it is quite as good as the haunted hayrack ride, I am excited to participate in the Nacho Ride tomorrow evening. Hope to see you there!

Our genteel wheels

September 2, 2011

Well, as you all are undoubtedly aware, the Vuelta a Espana is around Day 13. And that means that Penelope Cruz is obviously cycling around and beautifully spectating at the melee (con accento y exclamacion de marco, mi amiga, muy accento).

I understand this is anyone's race at this point. I also was even able to watch a bit of the event, since it is available to even those of us who are too thrifty for any type of cable or satellite television connection (thanks Universal Sports!). While looking for a photo of Penelope on a bicycle, I happened across this article that informed me that in the UK, rich people are more likely to bicycle than us plebeians (plebes for short). According to the article, it appears that the poor buggers over in that dank, rioting, old sot of a nation don't want to be seen as so poor that they need to roll around on a humble cycle. Well, guess what, go ahead and roll, keep your nose up and maybe you'll be mistaken for an entitled member of the upper crust of the queen's bundt cake. Although I am not a subject of the queen and not familiar with the social structure on any islands, I personally enjoy the feeling of entitlement I can't help getting as I roll loftily about, hither and yon, snippily chiding presumptuous motorists while sportily ringing my bell just before overtaking pedestrians on my dear multi-use trails. It is somewhat like the feeling I presume my neighbor gets when he puts on his long argyle stockings, tweed, capris-length pants and sporty cap before venturing off for an early, back nine, foursomely escapade.

Why just the other day, as I regally transported myself amongst the motoring masses, I arrived at the used CD store. Although I am fortunate enough to already own all six of Badly Drawn Boy's masterly recordings, I figured I'd stop in and see what other musical offerings might be available. I headed to my tree/bike-stand and seized an opportunity to hop (and I use the word "hop" loosely, since I really pop my front tire up and then pull me and the Old Heavy Bastard's arses up behind me) the curb. At least I thought I was seizing the opportunity, however, what was really seized was my front tire in a gaping depression that prohibited forward progress and caused OHB's backside to come perilously close to lodging on my head.

Fortunately, gravity pulled OHB's arse back down before I was "thwacked" for my impudence. A curious motorist asked if I was okay. "Yeah." I replied, slightly surprised at the truthfulness of my statement. It was at that moment that I was grateful for OHB's lack of springiness and secure stateliness. Much like the Cadillac in Johnny Cash's "One Piece at a Time," OHB is one smooth sailin' vessel!

Recently I have witnessed some extraordinary vehicles while going quietly about my business. I saw this vehicle with a skin-colored dome twice - going in opposite directions at the same intersection.

It reminded me of a chuckle-eliciting motorbike I used to own with a flesh-colored gas tank (prior to the tri-toned flames that were later applied, Grrraaaar!).  Nothing like a burst of flames on a flesh-colored protuberence to change laughter to raised rock-n-roll fists and righteous sneers.

Here's a Husker party bus that tried to pick me up and take me to some kind of pre-game party for a northern North American futbol match.

Go Huskers!

Here is a fun activity that I'm sure you will enjoy - it's the Apple Grass Festival!  It takes somewhere in Iowa, but fairly near the Omaha area.  Bluegrass and apples go together like Penelope Cruz and a bicycle, so get out there and feel the twang!  Happy Labor Day Weekend, you poor plebes!