Category: Blasphemy

Good Friday?

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 17 Comments
Elena Gallegos gets a water feature.

Good Friday? I wouldn’t know. It’s too early for a proper review.

Yesterday was a pretty good Thursday, though.

The weather shifted gears a bit, and I was able to give the trees a sip of water and get myself out for 90 minutes of sun worship on the foothills trails.

The Co-Motion Divide Rohloff is a great bike for this sort of thing if you’re not in a rush, which I never am. It goes about 32 pounds with all its bells and whistles, which include drop bars, a rigid steel frameset, and a pair of hefty 50mm Donnelly X’Plor MSO tires.

The cool spring having left me low on mileage and high on a whiter shade of pale, I wasn’t exactly skipping the light fandango in the Elena Gallegos Open Space. At times, especially on the hills, it felt like I was towing a Burley trailer containing 16 vestal virgins, a waiter, and his tray.

A mountain biker yielding trail on a climb shouted, “Hey, gravel bikes!” as I lumbered up. No, it’s a touring bike, I mumbled to myself, and there’s only one of us, shortly before a dude on an actual gravel bike passed me so fast the waiter couldn’t take his drink order.

Speaking of drinks, while railing the corners down Trail 342 bound for 203A, I abruptly found myself facing a water crossing. We’ve been in The Duck! City for nearly nine years now and I don’t think I’ve ever seen water running in this little arroyo.

So, yeah. A good Thursday, for sure. But a good Friday? Don’t ask Herself. Someone buggered something down to the Death Star and she had to go down there, on a day off, to boot a server in the slats.

Willin’

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 37 Comments
Nope, not a church. It’s the chimney for the bedroom kiva fireplace.

The Lowell George song is pretty much all I know about Tucumcari. That, and that round two of The Visitation occurs today, as another smallish herd of Texicans gallops in from there to see Herself the Elder.

Their trip looks like a stroll through the daisies compared to what Herself’s sis will endure when she jets in from Maryland midweek. Holy hell. That itinerary is why I drive any distance under 3,000 miles that does not involve an ocean crossing. A UPS driver at Christmastime makes fewer stops. Plus there are fewer psychos to duct-tape to their seats en route.

Meanwhile, the news of the world remains an ongoing refutation of both Darwinism and theology. One envisions the Son having a Word with the Father while the Holy Ghost spitballs a new PR campaign:

“I got nailed up for these people? What were You thinking? I’m going to put You in a home while HG and I try to figure out how to turn this thing around.”

Good luck with that. Me, I’d think about starting over with a fresh crop of monkeys. But judging by the state of the place, maybe that’s already occurred to You.

This drivetrain is bound for glory

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 27 Comments
The Rivendell Sam Hillborne with its 45/35/24T triple, 11-32 cassette, and long-reach, dual-pivot brakes.

The Church of the Rotating Mass comprises a multitude of sects and specs. There are many components in my Product Manager’s shop. Each of us hews to our favored commandments and catechisms.

And of course we persecute the heretics, which is always fun.

I’m an ecumenical sort myself. When I first set my cleatless foot upon the Path back in the Eighties, I rode a steel bike with two chainrings and six cogs. Rim brakes, because of course rim brakes. Did I mention it was the Eighties?

But I’ve broadened my outlook since then. Today in the garage you will find bikes with single, double and triple cranks, cassettes of seven to 10 cogs, one Rohloff/Gates belt setup, tubed tires from 28mm all the way up to 2.4 inches, and a variety of brakes, from dual-pivot road stoppers (long reach and short) to cantilevers, V-brakes and mechanically actuated discs. There’s even a carbon fork in there, because every religion needs a devil.

Which bike is best? The one I have with me, just like with cameras.

That being said, I have it on good authority that God rides a steel frameset with rack and fender eyelets, a nine-speed drivetrain, bar-end or thumbshifters, rim brakes, 32-spoke wheels, 38mm clinchers, and a Selle Italia saddle of some sort.

However, it’s not clear from the ancient texts whether He favors a 1x, compact double, or triple crank. What’s the Aramaic for “granny gear?”

And on the seventh day. …

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 20 Comments
This invisible fella is off for a quick spin. But not me.

March is going out like … like it really, really, really wants out.

The wind is rattling our cage here in the Duke City, and our various mobiles, chimes and ornaments are taking a good shellacking.

I had enough of that bullshit yesterday, flogging the Voodoo Wazoo and its low end of 37.7 gear inches around the southern trail network for an hour. The wind out of the southeast was lionesque, and my legs were lamblike, so today, like the Lord, I shall rest and contemplate my handiwork. Legwork. Whatevs.

And it was good. A 131-mile week ain’t bad for a geezer.