cycling

What a difference a year makes.
2008: I decide to give road racing a shot. My first race goes well – a relatively fast-paced Banana Belt 3. The pack stays together until the field is obliterated up the last climb and I finish comfortably in the middle of the pack.… Read the rest

I hate rollers.  I’ve always hated rollers.
I hated them last year during the Covered Bridges 200k and I hate them now, at this moment, on this circuit called Sublime, in this town called Sublimity.
Cruel.  All of it. I can see it come together.
The race organizers smirking while… Read the rest

Soft-pedaling at 37mph on Sal’s wheel. That may be the best vacation moment ever.
I run out of gears. Ty Lambert opens up the throttle and I am out of gears. The compact crank – a blessing and a curse. In a heartbeat, Sal comes through to my left –… Read the rest

It’s snowing.
I think this at precisely the same moment that Tina says it:
“Dude, it’s snowing.”
The flakes are soft and small and intermittent.  Hesitant, aware of their imminent demise.  There will be no sticking this time around. The effect is calming.
Inside my chest there is a heart. … Read the rest

The sunlight is obscene.
It comes on strong in that all-consuming way that lovers do. Blinding. Disorienting. White hot. Dangerous.
We don’t want to fall for it, but we still do.… Read the rest

Where: Cape Breton Island, Novia Scotia
Wender: Hal Amen
I’m used to salt in my mouth. Sweat and road grit simmer into the unmistakable tang of adrenaline.
But this was different. The curtains of drizzle blowing up the steeps of French Mountain and into my face were five parts saline… Read the rest

The snow.  It just keeps falling.
Yesterday we woke to 8 or 9 inches of accumulation, topped with a wicked 3/4″ layer of ice.  I suited up into my ultra-weatherproof 15 layer cycling outfit and dragged my mountain bike gingerly down the slippery front steps.
A woman called out to… Read the rest

Snow makes people happy.
Maybe not all those poor east-coasters and mid-westerners who have to deal with it in unfathomable quantity, but here on the west coast there is no denying it – snow taps into some primal childhood glee.
And it doesn’t take much, either.
A light dusting. A… Read the rest

The tree comes for me.  I see it as I climb the horseshoe hill in a small gear, but I still think the inside line looks better.  Taking the inside line on the first hairpin turn leaves me set up to take the outside line for the second, where the… Read the rest