Entering the Twilight zone

Twilight Summer Ale
There's nothing better than beer for flushing out the headgear on a hot summer day.

Ack. Ninety-something outside and only a little less than that inside. By the time I got done shoveling out the VeloBarrel this afternoon I decided I was not interested in cycling of any sort, especially as practiced by me. So instead I rode the Vespa down to the grog shop for a sixer of Deschutes Brewery’s Twilight Summer Ale.

This tasty brew, a seasonal beer available from May through September, will take the rabies out of the maddest of dogs beset by Englishmen in the noonday sun. Herself likes one on a hot day, too, so we’ll put a couple in the freezer for 10 minutes and then hit ’em hard, like a hungry Hemingway chugging a distingué at a Parisian café. Well, I do, anyway. She nurses hers as if Prohibition is coming back.

I like the Green Lakes Organic Ale too, though I was not impressed by my first encounter with the brew. My second, however, followed the first leg of the Adventure Cycling Association‘s 2010 Southern Arizona Road Adventure, when a new friend and I had a dram apiece at the Velvet Elvis in Patagonia. Something about 48 miles of cycling and 3,400 feet of vertical through sun-splashed, wind-whipped southern Arizona, I guess. Whatever — I was an instant convert and have remained one.

Not much action in Le Tour today and even less tomorrow, the second rest day. Tuesday brings the Alps, and thus the pain; all the big shots vow to attack without mercy, etc., et al., and so on and so forth.

Well, that would be refreshing, wouldn’t it? So far it’s the officers doing all the talking and the grunts doing it hand to hand, just like in real life.

A smelly barrel of victory

Back in that ol’ VeloBarrel again. It is a malodorous hogshead indeed, redolent of unwashed kit, pressroom gin and deadline sweat.

But for Jelle Vanendert and Thomas Voeckler, it smells like … like victory.

Vanendert galloped away from an elite group of GC contenders for the stage win in today’s edition of Le Tour, and Voeckler stuck with them to defend his maillot jaune, which is a win by any standard you care to employ, because not even he expected to be in yellow at day’s end.

If there’s any stink attached to the stage, it comes from the smelly feet of the tap-dancing contenders, who didn’t exactly open a 55-gallon drum of whup-ass in the finale. Oh, sure, Andy Schleck had a few tentative digs, as did brother Fränk, but to hear them talk about it afterwards you’d think they were both double Badgers with a side of Eddy Merckx and that everyone was supposed to fall down stone dead the first time they raised their skinny butts off their saddles.

Cadel Evans, who spent the day chasing down everything with a pulse, found them as exasperating as I did.

“The Schleck brothers are there, they ride all day, they’ve got the yellow jersey to gain and they look at me to pull for them? I feel like saying, ‘Hang on a second, I’m not here to tow you to Paris.’ ”

Here’s fish in your eye

Fisheyed Front Strange
Acid flashback? Nope, just the wizards at Canon messing with our minds again.

I didn’t get out for a ride today until the afternoon thunderclouds were rolling in, and wasn’t but four blocks away from Chez Dog when the first raindrops began to fall.

Summoning my inner Belgian, I pressed on, and atop the Col du Austin Bluffs Parkway, by the University of Colorado-Colorado Springs, I stopped to snap this pic of the Front Range using the Canon PowerShot 300HS‘s fisheye-lens feature. This sort of effrontery must make real photographers feel the way I do when some mouth-breather with a netbook and a Twitter account proclaims himself a writer.

Meanwhile, the other day I cycle up to Grandview Overlook in Palmer Park and see another cyclist there. We start chatting, and he mentions that he used to live in California, and I ask why he left, expecting some tale about selling some shitbox condo for a bazillion dollars and buying the Broadmoor as a pied-a-terre until something of quality hits the market.

“Couldn’t get out of there fast enough,” he said. “The bank wouldn’t work with us, so we handed them the keys and said, ‘See you.'”

Now, I don’t know the backstory. But the dude went from “owning” a house in California to ranching the view from an apartment in a tough part of Bibleburg, and that’s got to sting, no matter how nifty the Front Range looks from the saddle of your bicycle.

Happy Monday

Soma Saga loaded
The Soma Saga loaded fore and aft for a recent test ride.

Today was a rest day in the Tour, and in Dogpatch, too.

Getting out for a ride on the weekends, when I’m in the VeloBarrel, has been impossible — it’s pretty much full-on from 7 a.m. until 4 p.m., which is about when the rain begins bucketing down.

On Saturday I managed to ride for a whole half-hour before the rumbling and pyrotechnics started, and Sunday I never even made it out the door. So it was excellent to ride hills for a couple of hours today.

As I mentioned earlier I’ve been test-riding a Soma Saga touring bike for Adventure Cyclist lately, so just for giggles I broke out my Soma Double Cross for purposes of comparison. It was missing a wheelset (loaned to the Saga), so I took one off yet another bike, replaced its nine-speed cyclo-cross cassette with an eight-speed MTB jobber (the DC now sports a triple XT crankset and an XT rear derailleur), and off we went.

Soma Double Cross
The Soma Double Cross, stripped of racks and bags.

I climbed the Col du Peregrine and the Côte de Ombres des Montagnes, then took a spin around the Garden of the Gods before finding a flattish way home. And y’know what? That’s a damn’ nice bike. Not light — like the Saga, it has Tange Prestige main tubes and a Tange Infinity fork up front, lesser chromoly behind, and it clocks in at about 23.3 pounds in its present configuration with a pair of chubby 700×32 Panaracer Pasela Tourguard tires, a USE suspension post, and bar-cons and aero brake levers instead of STI.

But the DC serves up a comfortable ride, and a versatile one, too. Despite its ’cross-bike bottom-bracket height and shortish chainstays Stan Pun at Soma/Merry Sales calls it “a good loaded touring bike with a couple of compromises … a very nice all-rounder/commuter.”

In other words, a bicycle. Wondrous machines, those. We should all have as many as we can afford.