Hopping last night of winter at Casa de Evo

Tux and Kyson shared a moment..

Kyson posed like a pro.

He chatted with his uncle Garth who is in Cambodia.

Hottie surprised me with a schmacker.

RJ was just glad for a little break

I tried to talk, but Kyson just didn't want to hear it..

Pumps; and what they say about you

The pump option you choose says a lot about you, and your outlook. If you knew you were going to get a flat, what kind of pump would you bring? If you knew you wouldn’t get a flat, what then? Here is my take on the pump options.

Boy scout – Your choice: Frame pump and two tubes

We all rest a little easier when one of the guys on the ride rolls up with a broomstick sized frame pump. Nothing is faster or easier. If you think a CO2 is faster, you forgot to add in the time we all take to double check everything before holding your breath and pulling the trigger. The downside is they are heavy. They mount so as to be drawn like a sword when needed. If you carry one of these, you are always welcome.

Frame Pump ? Welcome friend...

Set it and forget it –Your choice: Pump mounted to your bottle cage

In the spectrum, this is the middle. Bigger than a mini pump, less weight and size than a frame pump. It works well enough. The pump gets crusty with mud in season. On the down side, if you are into aesthetics, this isn’t your pump.

I am a racer! - Your choice: Pump in your back pocket

A bike without a saddlebag looks like it is in a race. If you have your race number mounted as well, you look even more PRO. Some riders like the look of a pump on their pocket. A sleek pump peaking out of a pocket can be visually pleasing. When a pump is in a pocket under a jacket, it looks like a misplaced hard on. There; I said it. Sorry. The thrashed Ziploc that holds the tube, patch, levers and some Clif bar crumbs also detracts from the PRO look.

We’ll cross that bridge when we get there – Your choice: Micro-pump

A Micro-pump fits inside your saddlebag. This is a great choice if you assume you’ll never get a flat. You will get a flat. If your ability to deny this is well developed you can lean on your friends who will have pumps that work better, because none work worse. On the other hand, if you flat when you are by yourself, there won’t be anyone looking bored whilst you pump out two-hundred and fifty strokes and lose the use of your hands for the rest of the day.

Speed at all costs – Your choice: CO2 in your saddlebag

First off, you have to carry two cartridges (just in case). Whenever you compare the weight of your CO2 choice, you always compare using the weight of one. Denial is a well worn tool. If you misfire with a CO2, you’re screwed. If you are dialed in, it works well. Each canister costs money. If you care about the environment and carbon footprint, etc. then you may offend some with this selection.

Your name is Brendan - Your choice: "All I need is a cell phone"

Your bike is filthy, you never clean your chain, you don’t even own an extra tube. You pump your tires with a floor pump and head out. You are fast and respect the sport. If something happens, help is just a call away. To the utter disgust of the frame pump carrying Boy Scout, it all works out for you. If you do get a flat tire, a movie star stops and by the time you get home, you’ve been invited to a premier party.

Your name is Hottie – Your choice: Evo

If your name is Hottie, you carry a tube, a tire lever, tissues and hand sanitizer. The fellow who changes your tire will have a pump. This plan has worked for a long time..

Where is THIS going?

Recently Hottie and I went to the movies. As we stood in line we were behind a man and his son. The lad looked to be about nine or ten and appeared special. He was looking around and not speaking. His head snapped back and forth as he scanned his surroundings. The expression on his face was blank. He was rocking back and forth and as he slowly turned toward Hottie and me he stopped suddenly.

The boy yanked on his fathers sleeve and pointed at me would not take his eyes off me. He couldn't (or didn't) speak and he slowly moved toward me pulling his dad the step or two between us until he was almost touching me.

At this point I wondering where this was going to go.

Was he going to say something friendly to break the ice such as, "That is the man who made me take off my clothes?" Was he going to suddenly blurt out, "You're my real daddy?"

The weirdness was peaking and his father was trying to figure out what was going on as well. I am usually a good sport and was trying to act like this happens everyday, but it was all a facade.

Then his father spotted it. I was wearing a shirt with a small image of the Grinch on the center of the chest and it caught the lad's eye.

"Yes, that is the Grinch," the father said and that satisfied the young man. His tiny attention span saturated, his eyes darted somewhere else and I was off the hook.

Day trip

After loading up the miles yesterday, I elected not to ride and Hottie, Tux and I piled into the war wagon and went up north. Dark clouds and a cutting wind reminded us that spring is yet to arrive.

Hottie spotted an early Chris King Hub prototype

I played with the little camera that Hottie got me after I sent the old to the bottom of the harbor in Kodiak Alaska. I'm going for that "Rapha" "epic" look.

Sometimes it is all black and white

Sometimes things are more colorful...

A little orange is a beautiful thing..

Back to it

Isn't this the coolest picture of the coolest Greyhound ever? He was sniffing snow and this is what it looks like.

As my loyal fan may have noted, there were no posts in February. Not a plan, it just kind of happened. I lived all 29 days.

My knee is coming along fine. I did some lunges on Monday and I went deep and bonked my Osgood-Schlatter on the carpet several times and thought nothing of it until the next evening when something went wrong and it hurt really bad. I've been nice to it and all seems swell.

Work has been crazy and I truly appreciate nice people. I work with some great people. I come home to a wonderful wife and loyal pup. Life is pretty fun.

Kyson and Tux are absolutely fascinated by each other.

We have enjoyed visits from Si as well as RJ, Kyson, Sophie and Katie. I visited Kansas and Montreal in February. Hottie is S L O W L Y recovering from her surgery and is understandably frustrated.

On a personal note; although I wasn't out of commission very long, I have so appreciated being able to ride again. The morning of my first post-surgery commute it was dumping rain. I woke up (thanks to my alarm set for 5:30 AM) and could hear the rain running down the downspout. My first thought was, "I get to ride today," I put on my rain stuff and went out the door and smiled all the way to work.

I commuted today and riding with a little light makes a big difference. I'm starting to think we are about to finish this winter thing and get started on spring pretty soon.

ONLY riding is riding...

The hardman of the modern peloton, Jen Voigt
I had arthroscopic surgery on my right knee on the 17th. I woke up in the post op with an ice bag on my knee. I was able to walk out, but the tradition of leaving in a wheelchair seems to be a sacred cow that I decided not to challenge. After Hottie got me home we had a snow storm that was followed by freezing rain and I spent two days at home with my work computer in front of me and a different ice bag on my knee.

Remember that first ride ?

That weekend I spent twenty minutes on the trainer with no tension and it felt okay. I got the stitches out this week and went to physical therapy twice. I got on the trainer again mid week and even went to spin class yesterday. The knee is coming right along and I have been following the direction given me by my doctor and my physical therapist.

Warm sunshine, a tailwind, and all day to enjoy it...

We had a dry day today and I decided to ride a few miles on the road nice and easy, in the daylight. It was such a joy to spin my legs. It was as if I had not ridden in years. I almost felt like singing, but I elected not to ruin the moment for myself and others.

Having so much fun my jersey burst open !!

As Hottie starts her much longer road to recovery, I look forward to her being able to have that feeling of flying when she too is able to enjoy the simple joy of riding a bike.

Soon, Hottie, soon.

Surgeries in the house

What is better than bacon?

You're right; it is a trick question because NOTHING is better than bacon except, of course, more bacon. But if you look closely at this picture you will see Hottie and I had bacon by candlelight. What is more romantic than bacon? Too much to list here.

What is less romantic than bacon. Surgery for sure.

Last Tuesday I had knee surgery for a torn meniscus, and this Tuesday Hottie had surgery to re-attach a tendon in her elbow. My recovery is going well and Hottie has several hard weeks ahead of her.

I'll keep you updated..

Another holiday season come and gone

We had a quiet Christmas here at Casa de Evo. One of the reasons it was so quiet at home was Hottie and I loaded up the war wagon and with my mom strapped to the top and Tux in the back we went off to Winthrop for a white Christmas.

Spending Christmas in a cabin in the woods was something I have wanted to do since I was four years old. Winthrop was all decked out for the occasion.

Hottie in front of Winthrop town hall staying warm in full Eskimo mode.

The only downside was that despite dropping hints the way Cancellara drops the peloton, nobody got me what I really wanted.

A guy can dream can't he ?

Still we found things to do.

Hottie sliding on boards in Mazama

I will confess I haven't seen a lot of fifty year old guys in Utilikilts.

Someone once said it is a cruel God that grants our wishes.

So maybe it isn't so bad that I am approaching 2012 kiltless....

December Surprise

With our nest empty, Hottie and I had discussed taking out a wall that divides our master bedroom from the bedroom next to us. Hottie had a photo trip to Africa on the horizon, so Evo contemplated a clever plot.

After dropping off Hottie at the airport, Tux and I set to work...

This is looking down the hallway. Our bedroom on the right, underused bedroom on the left

This is the view in our master. Tux is guarding the bed

This is the underused bedroom. Note the non-functioning intercom system. Let's all say "Brady Bunch" together, shall we?

At first I did some checking just in case there was something unexpected in the wall..

Let the demolition begin !

Okay... no surprises yet. If this doesn't work, I will have some explaining to do...

I had everything covered to keep it clean. Time would tell if it worked..

Tux got comfortable with his changing surroundings

A new view. This had better work...

Between 48 year old rockwool in the attic and flying drywall dust, I was anxious to keep the crap out of my lungs. Can you guess which one is the new one and which one I used today ?

Tux was unfazed. See him on the bed? Reciprocating saw cutting beams; no problem. Sledge hammer knocking out posts; not an issue. "I'll be here sleeping, just keep the dust down," was his unspoken message to me...

New doorway goes.... here !

We'll start with new beams here

Like this. The first of four

Here we are..

Oh yes, it got messy..

After holding my breath I removed what was left of the walls. No shifting, no surprises, wonderfully according to plan..

Then Tux and I cleaned up. The sheet on the bed is so Tux doesn't get fur on our blankets, etc..

Add drywall

Tape and mud...

Sand, mud, sand, mud, sand, mud

mud, sand, mud, sand, texture, clean, clean, clean, clean, clean...

The notes on the wall were my daily goals on the project

Move the bed into the middle of the room (for the time being)..

Wrap it..

She liked it !!

Hottie looks pretty good considering she has been home five minutes after spending twenty seven hours on planes.