Bikes, beers and bummers

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 10 Comments
Cyfac Vintage
The Cyfac Vintage in a Rando configuration.

Somebody has a new toy. And no, it’s not you.

Meet the Cyfac Vintage, a steel bike hand-built in France. It’s a wee bit short — a 54cm instead of the 56cm I usually ride — but it seems to roll along just fine nonetheless. It’s up for review in the July edition of Adventure Cyclist.

Speaking of which, cycling was something of an adventure around here today. The high reached at least 85 degrees, according to the weather wizards and confirmed by the Subaru thermometer, edging the record of 84 set in 2000. “Climate normal” is somewhere around 66, so this was something of a shock to the system, enough to make a guy buy a white Igloo helmet with a swamp cooler attached.

I couldn’t find one of those, so I bought two six-packs of beer instead: Odell’s 5 Barrel Pale Ale, which has become Herself’s favorite beer, and Victory’s Prima Pils, which is an excellent heat repellent when applied internally.

A man who sounds as though he could use a drink is Charles P. Pierce, who posits in a very grumpy blog post that Obama has left it too late to crank up the outrage machine. Writes Charles: “Personally, at this moment, I think he’s probably going to lose.”

If he’s right, then we should all start stockpiling strong drink while we still can. A nation that would elect Mitt Romney president is not one I can abide in sobriety.

Prince of fools

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 19 Comments

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been … well, actually, since I’m neither Catholic nor a fink, I’ve never confessed. Ever. You want to pin something on me, you better have three eyeball witnesses, videotape and my prints on whatever.

But I digress.

So I’m in this Bibleburg record-and-video store, which shall remain nameless — hey, I told you, I’m no stool pigeon, OK? — and I’m browsing the stacks, trying to find something to watch in the absence of Herself, who is living la vida loca with a girlfriend in Santa Fe whilst I ride herd on the menagerie and rassle various velo-gators for bicycle magazines.

Anyway, I’m scanning the science-fiction section and what do I come across? “The Ten Commandments.” As in the Cecil B. DeMille classic about Moses leading the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt. The Ten Fuckin’ Commandments. In the science-fiction section.

So, Father, what I want to know is this:

Am I going to Hell for laughing my ass off?

Individual pursuit

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 16 Comments

Floyd Landis, the gift that keeps on giving. Now a federal grand jury has become interested in his fabled Floyd Fairness Fund, which can’t be good news for anyone save his lawyers.

Seems the head of the fraud division in San Diego, assistant U.S. Attorney Phil Halpern, is himself a bike racer, so he may have a little more staying power than that Novitzky fella, who plays hoops.

You can’t get blood out of a turnip, but you can sure fuck up the turnip in the process.

 

Nibbles gets gobbled

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 11 Comments
Ike's tomb on Earth Day 2012
The Tomb of Chairman Meow has a fine color guard for Earth Day 2012.

Vince Nibbles, as Andrew Hood calls Vincenzo Nibali, nearly won Liège-Bastogne-Liège today.

When Nibbles went away atop the Cote de la Roche aux Faucons, Philippe Gilbert suddenly looked like he’d just taken a big hit from a spoiled bidon and the chase was as well organized as the House Democratic caucus. When Nibbles had 46 seconds in hand all the smart folks pretty much figured that was that.

And then Maxim Iglinskiy chased him down like Nibbles owed him money, and that really was that — the Sicilian was racing for second with just over a klick to go, and Astana was en route to picking up its second big win in a week after Enrico Gasparotto won last Sunday’s Amstel Gold. Gasparatto made the podium here, too, finishing third. Good times.

Good times here today, too. We’re looking at a sunny 60-something with light winds, and having already arranged for dinner — leftovers from last night’s killer stew of green chile, pork, onions, garlic and spuds — I have plenty of time to ride. Only one chore remains, the completion of an overdue column for Bicycle Retailer and Industry News. Some days these things practically write themselves; others, it’s like trying to drive ten-penny nails into mahogany using an old banana for a hammer.