Tag: El Bruno’s

Finally, Friday

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 9 Comments

 

Looking west from the North Diversion Channel Trail from the saddle of the Soma Double Cross.
Looking west from the North Diversion Channel Trail from the saddle of the Soma Double Cross.

Friday? Already? ‘Bout fuggin’ time, is what.

It seems to have been an active week. Ace shooter Casey B. Gibson blew through town en route to the Tour of the Gila and we got together at El Bruno’s to eat chile and wonder why all these sullen young punks are moping around on our lawns. Mister Boo continues to have a leaky faucet. One deadline was confirmed and another beaten into submission, if barely. Call it a TKO.

The old DBR Axis TT takes five along Trail 365, a few miles southeast of El Rancho Pendejo.
The old DBR Axis TT takes five along Trail 365, a few miles southeast of El Rancho Pendejo.

The Giro d’Italia got under way, but not without a hiccup at Live Update Guy.

The software pulled a Rip Van Wankel on us and Consigliere Pelkey had to deploy the Taser to encourage vigorous if financially unrewarding activity.

Hey, it was a 9.8km time trial; no wonder the 1s and 0s nodded off, along with most of what proved to be a very small audience.

And there was healthful outdoor exercise. Various elements of the Universe conspired against my fitness regimen for much of April, but May is off to a better start — this week I’ve logged two runs and three rides, all of which featured old bikes, blue skies and tailwinds home.

This afternoon I required a short nap on the sofa for some reason. Happily, The Boo needed a snooze, too, and he kept it corked, which I call progress.

Every silver lining has a dark cloud, of course, and ours at the moment is the aforementioned wind — a thunderous gale that has triggered a wind advisory, a red-flag warning and my allergies.

P’raps Der Trumpenführer is giving an address somewhere? That would explain all this hot air.

 

 

Two wheels, zero brains

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 43 Comments
I picked a fine day to ride from the Sandias to the Rio and back again.
I picked a fine day to ride from the Sandias to the Rio and back again.

It’s been a couple weeks since Herself’s Subaru was towed away to its 永眠の地 (eimin no chi), or final resting place, and so far we seem to be getting by OK with only the one motor vehicle, El Rancho Pendejo being fairly well stocked with two-wheelers.

We had a bit of alternative-transportation fun around here yesterday, however. Or I did, anyway.

While we decide what, if anything, to do about the one-car situation, I decided it might be smart to have my Vespa LX50 shipped down from Bibleburg, a process that has more than a few hoops to hop through.

Since I didn’t ride it throughout the winter and early spring, it being there and me being here, the battery died. So I couldn’t drive it to Sportique for spring maintenance when last I was there instead of here. Thus, Sportique needs to fetch the thing, charge it up, and give it a wash and brushup before another fellow handles transport later this month or early next.

Toward that end, I planned to FedEx the keys to the garage and Vespa to a friend who lives in our old ‘hood. He’d open the garage, hand off the keys, and that would be that. Easy sleazy.

Uh huh.

So I hop on the Voodoo townie and pedal over to the FedEx shop yesterday only to find my wallet bereft of credit card. Seems some eejit wearing my face left the card at El Bruno’s after enjoying a plate of chicken enchiladas in a nuclear green chile the night before.

Well, fuck me running, I think. Check the wallet again. Twenty-eight smacks in Dead President Trading Cards. And these keys need to go overnight because my friend and his wife are leaving on vacation Saturday, the delivery guy is expecting to pick up my scoot directly, and Sportique needs some time to put it in proper working order.

“How close to overnight can I get this package to Colorado Springs for with $28 to spend?” I ask the FedEx person.

Phew. Made it with two bucks to spare.

Then all I had to do was cycle on down to El Bruno’s to collect the credit card. That only took about an hour and 45 minutes, with 800-plus feet of vertical gain for the homebound leg.

That’s one way to sweat out a combo plate.

• Editor’s note: This looks like an interesting rig. A buddy at The New York Times tipped me off to it.

System maintenance

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 27 Comments
Enchiladas de Herrera from El Bruno's on Fourth.
Enchiladas de Herrera from El Bruno’s on Fourth.

Downtime. Hasn’t been much of that sort of thing around here lately.

If you haven’t moved for a dozen years or so, it’s something of a shock to the system, like waking up in a strange room with the notion that you’ve been misbehaving again. The police may or may not consider you “a person of interest.” Nothing is where it should be — groceries, banking, your favorite ride.

Little disruptions abound. Walls without art, windows without shades, a wife with a job that no longer permits working from home three days a week.

Things need doing, and all of them take more time than they did back home. Just where the hell are the English muffins in this Bizarro World Whole Foods, anyway? Not where I’d put ’em, that’s for sure. The eyeball doc says Mister Boo needs another procedure? Put the English muffins back, we’re all gonna be eating dog food for a while. The city won’t pick up glass for recycling? No wonder the bike lanes are full of it.

Oh, the humanity. Caninity. Velocity. Whatever.

Then, suddenly, a pause for the cause. Nothing needs doing. Well, not right now, anyway. So there’s time for a short ‘cross-bike ride through the desert, a fiery platter of enchiladas de Herrera from El Bruno’s Restauranté y Cantina, and our millionth viewing of “Blazing Saddles” in honor of David Huddleston, a resident of Santa Fe.

How ’bout some more beans, Mister Taggart?