1. My wife has challenged herself to walk a mile a day for the month of June. The family and I joined in tonight with morale support and went with her. Great bonding experience watching an oversized moon, rabbits and lightning bugs. Not to mention a little exercise was snuck in.

    My wife has challenged herself to walk a mile a day for the month of June. The family and I joined in tonight with morale support and went with her. Great bonding experience watching an oversized moon, rabbits and lightning bugs. Not to mention a little exercise was snuck in.

    1 hour ago  /  0 notes

  2. To all who have served and are serving, I salute you.

    To all who have served and are serving, I salute you.

    1 week ago  /  0 notes

  3. Road Rage

    Wednesday night rides are starting to become the normal for my friend Rusty and I. Tonight we were joined by my wife and son (who I pulled in a trailer)! As we approached the final couple of miles Rusty split off headed back to his house as the family and I pedaled back towards our parked truck. Approaching a red stop light going up an incline (always an incline…) my wife was about three car lengths ahead of me. I’m letting her win, really. I could go faster… Seriously. You’re not believing me, I sense it. Fifty yards from the light a large white pick up begins to pass my wife. She is over as far right as she can be. Unfortunately for the truck the other lane is not clear for him to pass. The driver of the car traveling in the opposite direction was alert and pulled off the road (mostly). Seeing he neither had the room or distance before the light the driver of the truck hits the brakes and pulls back behind my wife who has now made it to the light. The driver of the car proceeds in their endeavor to get from point A to point B without being run over by a truck. Then I’m caught off guard. As the car gets to me (still a car length back from the truck) the driver honks angrily. At me?! I give them a hand gesture that both portrays my disagreement with their road ownership and is still kid safe as I am pulling my eight year old. I hammer the pedals. Not to escape the angry driver in their 4000 lbs cocoon but because the light is green and I plan on making it. My wife goes straight through as does the truck. He then passes my wife and one hundred yards later turns into a drive way.
    Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ranting. I find it amusing. First, a driver in such a rush he runs a car into the grass in a failed attempt to beat a cyclist to a RED light. Is it important to be the first to stop? Since his house (assuming he turned up his drive way) was so close was he trying not to miss a single second of a season finale on the boob tube? Second, did the driver of the car really think it was my fault the truck took their lane? Or did they agree with me that the driver of the truck was an impatient idiot but felt he was in a bigger vehicle thus intimidated by them? Seeing me on a much smaller vehicle and feeling superior in size, taking their anger out on me instead?
    Over the years I’ve seen my share of drivers who for no more reason than they are bigger and faster think they own the road. To them I offer this. I’m not trying to slow you down or take away an entire fifteen seconds of your life. Like you I’m simply going somewhere. A destination or simply for a spin. My transportation is simply different. Relax, you’ll get to wherever you need too and hopefully so will I.

    1 week ago  /  0 notes

  4. Conquerors of Barnwell

    Conquerors of Barnwell

    2 weeks ago  /  0 notes

  5. Got a text from Rusty. He wanted to know if I wanted to go for a ride. Is that rhetorical? The real question is if I have time to ride. Turns out I did! Well, there was one catch. My wife was at work and I’m a dad. My girls had activities at church but my son was hanging with dad. Hopefully in a few years he can ride with us but today he can’t keep up (in a few years he’ll probably drop me at will). Today however, he is eight. Not a problem. It’s been a while since I pulled him in a trailer but I’m sure I can still do it. We meet up with Rusty in town. We decide to do the Barnwell climb. An out and back with the summit of Barnwell being the turn around point. My son begins loading his chariot and I remind him his horse can only pull so much. He compromises and sheds a few grams he can do without for the next hour. He loads up and Rusty and I straddle are aluminum (you didn’t think I owned carbon fiber did you?) steeds and begin rolling towards today’s challenge. Rusty is most patient not dropping the trailer hauler. I’m sure he feels like a Porsche roadster keeping pace with a delivery truck. I pedal hard. My leg sear with pain. My lungs burn and strain to get the air in to the over worked body. Soon we get out of the parking lot and out on the road. We climb the first hill. At this point I’m fighting a mental battle. I’d really like to go to my easiest gear. This hill however is nothing compared to Barnwell. If I need my easiest gear here, I’ll have nothing for the mighty Barnwell climb. I end up justifying the gear by telling myself I don’t have to climb Barnwell. I can always wait on Rusty at the base after he goes up and turns around. A cop out but hey, an eight year old boy is heavy to pull. Once on the semi smoothness of Hwy 155 shoulder the pace picks up. I say that as if the pace is some being in and of itself. It is what Rusty and I make it. Whatever the case, we are rolling faster. A steady downhill helps my legs pull my extra cargo along. Although extra weight exaggerates in incline at all, the road to Barnwell is fairly flat. This allows my mind for good or bad to think I’m fresh and ready for a climb. Rusty attacks it first. A strong rider coupled with having no extra weight to pull he drops me as if I’m rolling through fresh tar. I loose sight of him as my focus turns to my front wheel and the asphalt directly around it. Funny how the world narrows when you are straining with something. I’m quickly rolling the easiest gear combo I have. A double glance at the cassette confirms this is the case. “I need a cheerleader” I call back to the boy. No response. He’s occupied. The thought of giving in enters my mind as Rusty zips down the far side of the road. He has already made the top and was coming back down. He was sure I wouldn’t attempt it. My legs are wishing I hadn’t attempted it. Burning, they scream for me to let up. Any let up at this point however would stall this tractor trailer. I refocus on my front wheel, blanking out the world around me. It’s only pain I tell myself. But it’s a lot of pain! Come my response… Talking with myself is an all to common thing for me. After what felt much longer in time than it was I peak up from my wheel and see the summit. My legs suddenly feel as if the can make it. My pace even picks up. Not much mind you but faster none the less. Making the top it feels so good to as the ground levels out. I made it! Looking back I see that Rusty made it again! We take a pic or two and otherwise stall to give my legs some recoup time. Turning back down the slope gives a much different feel. Instead of straining with all my might I don’t have to pedal once. In fact I have to apply the brakes a few time to keep my cargo on the safe side. At the bottom Rusty takes over trailer duty. Thanks! My legs truly appreciate it! Other than a truck surrounded by cop cars and fire trucks after it had caught fire the rest of the trip went without incident. We made our way through the residential streets of Gilmer back to our parked cars. There I loaded my bike and trailer and the ride was officially over. No worries as the next ride is always just around the corner.

    Got a text from Rusty. He wanted to know if I wanted to go for a ride. Is that rhetorical? The real question is if I have time to ride. Turns out I did! Well, there was one catch. My wife was at work and I’m a dad. My girls had activities at church but my son was hanging with dad. Hopefully in a few years he can ride with us but today he can’t keep up (in a few years he’ll probably drop me at will). Today however, he is eight. Not a problem. It’s been a while since I pulled him in a trailer but I’m sure I can still do it.
    We meet up with Rusty in town. We decide to do the Barnwell climb. An out and back with the summit of Barnwell being the turn around point. My son begins loading his chariot and I remind him his horse can only pull so much. He compromises and sheds a few grams he can do without for the next hour. He loads up and Rusty and I straddle are aluminum (you didn’t think I owned carbon fiber did you?) steeds and begin rolling towards today’s challenge.
    Rusty is most patient not dropping the trailer hauler. I’m sure he feels like a Porsche roadster keeping pace with a delivery truck. I pedal hard. My leg sear with pain. My lungs burn and strain to get the air in to the over worked body. Soon we get out of the parking lot and out on the road. We climb the first hill. At this point I’m fighting a mental battle. I’d really like to go to my easiest gear. This hill however is nothing compared to Barnwell. If I need my easiest gear here, I’ll have nothing for the mighty Barnwell climb. I end up justifying the gear by telling myself I don’t have to climb Barnwell. I can always wait on Rusty at the base after he goes up and turns around. A cop out but hey, an eight year old boy is heavy to pull.
    Once on the semi smoothness of Hwy 155 shoulder the pace picks up. I say that as if the pace is some being in and of itself. It is what Rusty and I make it. Whatever the case, we are rolling faster. A steady downhill helps my legs pull my extra cargo along. Although extra weight exaggerates in incline at all, the road to Barnwell is fairly flat. This allows my mind for good or bad to think I’m fresh and ready for a climb. Rusty attacks it first. A strong rider coupled with having no extra weight to pull he drops me as if I’m rolling through fresh tar. I loose sight of him as my focus turns to my front wheel and the asphalt directly around it. Funny how the world narrows when you are straining with something. I’m quickly rolling the easiest gear combo I have. A double glance at the cassette confirms this is the case. “I need a cheerleader” I call back to the boy. No response. He’s occupied. The thought of giving in enters my mind as Rusty zips down the far side of the road. He has already made the top and was coming back down. He was sure I wouldn’t attempt it. My legs are wishing I hadn’t attempted it. Burning, they scream for me to let up. Any let up at this point however would stall this tractor trailer. I refocus on my front wheel, blanking out the world around me. It’s only pain I tell myself. But it’s a lot of pain! Come my response… Talking with myself is an all to common thing for me. After what felt much longer in time than it was I peak up from my wheel and see the summit. My legs suddenly feel as if the can make it. My pace even picks up. Not much mind you but faster none the less. Making the top it feels so good to as the ground levels out. I made it! Looking back I see that Rusty made it again!
    We take a pic or two and otherwise stall to give my legs some recoup time. Turning back down the slope gives a much different feel. Instead of straining with all my might I don’t have to pedal once. In fact I have to apply the brakes a few time to keep my cargo on the safe side. At the bottom Rusty takes over trailer duty. Thanks! My legs truly appreciate it!
    Other than a truck surrounded by cop cars and fire trucks after it had caught fire the rest of the trip went without incident. We made our way through the residential streets of Gilmer back to our parked cars. There I loaded my bike and trailer and the ride was officially over. No worries as the next ride is always just around the corner.

    2 weeks ago  /  0 notes

  6. Nice ride this evening with my bud Rusty. He spotted this turtle at the midway point and I had to harass it a bit. No worries, it was not harmed in the taking of this photo. Afterwards Rusty carried it to a nearby creek and set it at the shore.

    Nice ride this evening with my bud Rusty. He spotted this turtle at the midway point and I had to harass it a bit. No worries, it was not harmed in the taking of this photo. Afterwards Rusty carried it to a nearby creek and set it at the shore.

    1 month ago  /  2 notes

  7. A Mini Tri Rusty texted me if I wanted to ride after work. Of course I WANTED to and as it was I’d be able to as well. His friend John would accompany us. Texts went back and forth as plans were updated and refined. So refined that by the time I got there Rusty had a swim and a run added to the afternoon’s events. A mini triathlon. With an open water swim… as in a chilly lake. Should have brought a wetsuit. Better yet I should have owned a wetsuit. I won’t complain, the water was tolerable. I could be worse. I could live in Not Texas were the lakes are frigid well into June. Never the less I was glad to get through a chilly 200 yards. Yeah you read that right, 200. Not 2000 but, it was a mini swim for a mini tri and plenty long enough for me. Out of the water we practiced a ten minute transition to the bikes. Hey, we just wanted to do the three disciplines, not race them. Racing comes later. We did a short flat start on the bikes to regain our land legs. After that we climbed onto the dam were we knocked out ten or so miles before returning to our trucks AKA transition area. A faster (8 minute) transition ensued and we took off running. I should mention here that both Rusty and John have completed a marathon or more. Running is not my strong suit. As we started to run we talked. A half mile later I was strangely quiet. Me being quiet is a strong indicator that something is amiss. Like I was amissing oxygen. Rusty and John were casually strolling along while I was knocking myself out trying to hang with them. At a mile the option to turn around arose. Being the seasoned triathlete (I’ve done all of two), I knew we should not over do it this early in our training. At least I hope they thought that as I said “Yeah, let’s head back. And head back we did. Once back we loaded up and headed to John’s house. Here any pain and suffering was quickly forgotten as John prepared a tasty meal of fish, rice and corn. It was awesome! The most I ever got from an official triathlon was pancakes and I paid an entry fee! Here I paid nothing, got to sit in A/C and got fed a fine meal. A win win win situation! This was the first of probably several mini tris we’ll do. Although I don’t expect the meal will be a part of the rest, I look forward to training for an excellent sport with great people.

    A Mini Tri

    Rusty texted me if I wanted to ride after work. Of course I WANTED to and as it was I’d be able to as well. His friend John would accompany us. Texts went back and forth as plans were updated and refined. So refined that by the time I got there Rusty had a swim and a run added to the afternoon’s events. A mini triathlon. With an open water swim… as in a chilly lake. Should have brought a wetsuit. Better yet I should have owned a wetsuit. I won’t complain, the water was tolerable. I could be worse. I could live in Not Texas were the lakes are frigid well into June. Never the less I was glad to get through a chilly 200 yards. Yeah you read that right, 200. Not 2000 but, it was a mini swim for a mini tri and plenty long enough for me.
    Out of the water we practiced a ten minute transition to the bikes. Hey, we just wanted to do the three disciplines, not race them. Racing comes later. We did a short flat start on the bikes to regain our land legs. After that we climbed onto the dam were we knocked out ten or so miles before returning to our trucks AKA transition area. A faster (8 minute) transition ensued and we took off running. I should mention here that both Rusty and John have completed a marathon or more. Running is not my strong suit. As we started to run we talked. A half mile later I was strangely quiet. Me being quiet is a strong indicator that something is amiss. Like I was amissing oxygen. Rusty and John were casually strolling along while I was knocking myself out trying to hang with them. At a mile the option to turn around arose. Being the seasoned triathlete (I’ve done all of two), I knew we should not over do it this early in our training. At least I hope they thought that as I said “Yeah, let’s head back. And head back we did.
    Once back we loaded up and headed to John’s house. Here any pain and suffering was quickly forgotten as John prepared a tasty meal of fish, rice and corn. It was awesome! The most I ever got from an official triathlon was pancakes and I paid an entry fee! Here I paid nothing, got to sit in A/C and got fed a fine meal. A win win win situation!
    This was the first of probably several mini tris we’ll do. Although I don’t expect the meal will be a part of the rest, I look forward to training for an excellent sport with great people.

    1 month ago  /  0 notes

  8. 1 month ago  /  0 notes

  9. Proud of my daughter for placing second in the Trots For Tristan 5K this morning. Her only goal on race day is to beat her older sister. While she did accomplish this, her sister made her work for it! As for me I was in the 25-44 year old group. I’m 40. I didn’t stand a chance of placing…(I only place if I’m the ONLY one in my age group). It was for a good cause (Niemann-Pick Disease research) and a lot of fun running with the family.

    Proud of my daughter for placing second in the Trots For Tristan 5K this morning. Her only goal on race day is to beat her older sister. While she did accomplish this, her sister made her work for it! As for me I was in the 25-44 year old group. I’m 40. I didn’t stand a chance of placing…(I only place if I’m the ONLY one in my age group). It was for a good cause (Niemann-Pick Disease research) and a lot of fun running with the family.

    1 month ago  /  0 notes

  10. Rode my first time trial. Six miles sounded easy enough. “it’ll be fun” I thought. If a six mile full throttle painfest is your definition of fun then it was an absolute blast! By mile three every warning light on my mental dash board was glaring red. My body was begging me to slow down. Reality was I was going fairly slow. Not dead last slow but towards the bottom regardless. By the end I didn’t know whether I’d pass out or puke or both. Which is how a lot of people spend their weekend (albeit with a bottle as opposed to a bike). However, I remember my idiocy. Can’t wait to do it again! NOTE: That is NOT me in the pic. It is Tony Martin the Time Trial World Champion.

    Rode my first time trial. Six miles sounded easy enough. “it’ll be fun” I thought. If a six mile full throttle painfest is your definition of fun then it was an absolute blast! By mile three every warning light on my mental dash board was glaring red. My body was begging me to slow down. Reality was I was going fairly slow. Not dead last slow but towards the bottom regardless. By the end I didn’t know whether I’d pass out or puke or both. Which is how a lot of people spend their weekend (albeit with a bottle as opposed to a bike). However, I remember my idiocy. Can’t wait to do it again!
    NOTE: That is NOT me in the pic. It is Tony Martin the Time Trial World Champion.

    1 month ago  /  0 notes