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..

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.

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.

Me and Tux looking at the moon

Tonight, while Tux and I were walking, the clouds were dancing with the moon, giving it a real "Werewolves of London" kind of look.

At this moment I have family in Russia, Cambodia and Botswana and the USA.

I was wondering how they were all doing and out of the blue Tim called and filled me in on his exploits in Southeast Asia. What a world we live in.

When I was a child my father flew from Los Angeles to San Francisco for business. I thought that was an adventure, to be able to fly six hundred miles. I have raised the bar since then.

Zen before Sunrise

Sometimes the same thing can be different. Today the alarm went off about the usual time. For the first time in a long time, it was completely dark when the beeping took me from sleep. As I was fumbling getting my stuff together; phone, keys, bagel and cream cheese, Tux strode in and launched into a perfect down dog. He is, after all, a dog. His body language told me he was ready to eat and I obliged. Ten minutes later I was ready to roll and Tux was firmly planted on my side of the bed keeping Hottie warm.

When I hit the streets it was still dark and my killer light & motion light provided all the visibility I needed. My backside was flashing in a most offensive, but highly visible, array of red. The roads were deserted and it was an unusually warm morning. I wore a cycling cap under my helmet and the morning was still and silent. My bike (photos coming soon) didn’t make a sound other than the tires on the road. There were no rattles or clicking or creaking. Traffic, at least for now, was non-existent. My legs were spinning, but I had almost no sense of speed or resistance. I felt like I could go forever. Lucky for me I hit a light just right, and quickly crossed the first busy street I usually encounter. I continued on silent backstreets and enjoyed the start of the day.

The ride was flowing. My light is mounted to my helmet and if a car is approaching from the right or left, I can turn my head and the innocent drivers find themselves wondering if a lighthouse is moving towards them. In my opinion, the ability to point the light supersedes the level of safety provided by any blinking light with any lumen count that is pointed straight ahead.

The first three quarters of my route has so little traffic it feels serendipitous every day. Today was even more so. I could count the cars that passed me on one hand. When I finally got onto the road that eventually leads me to my office, I was able to drift into the bike lane and quietly make my way north.

Today was more challenging than most at work, but at least I was able to start off with some good mojo.

Does thread count matter ?

What are you looking at ?
Some dogs pee in the house. Some dogs chew leather shoes. Some dogs scratch the walls and others grab food off the counters. Tux the wonder dog, does none of these things. He does, however, like our bed when we are not in it. We don't mind this at all. In fact, we bought a bed spread to put on our bed so Tux wouldn't get our bed dirty. What we don't care for is the fact that Tux likes nice sheets, and wants to put his furry bum right on them. We make our bed (kind of) and pull on the Tux cover, and when we return Tux has peeled back the covers and is laying on our sheets. We've found his front paws on my pillow and his rear paws on Hottie's. We've found his butt on our pillows as well.

We could get upset, but because it could be so much worse (and the fact that he is the wonderdog), we just smile. We smile and we wash the sheets a lot. Does thread count matter? Yes it sure does. According to Tux, and I would agree with him, anything over 300 is just fine.

Happy Monday

I'm the king of the world !!
When Monday arrives and I find myself mentally refreshed and physically exhausted, it has been an ideal weekend. This was one of those Mondays. On Saturday Hottie and I got our glasses adjusted. What a difference. I still consider myself a rookie in the glasses world, and I was stunned how much better everything worked. Yep, I’m getting old. Live and learn as they say.

RJ visited and brought Kyson. He just gets cuter every day. He is more alert and responsive; which is a thrill. The poor fella just goes back and forth between my arms and Hottie’s. He didn’t seem to mind too much. What a sport!

As irony finds me wherever I go, the Sunday morning ride was dry and eventually sunny. So it came as quite the surprise that we only had three souls roll out. Dave F took the shortcut back so only two of us finished the full ride. The bonus was the other rider was Marc who moved to New Hampshire last fall, but was back in Seattle on business. He was a member of our Peloton of Discovery last summer and it was truly great to see him again.

When I tried to work my recent Ronde van Palouse into the conversation, Marc commented he had just competed in the Tour of the Battenkill. That race touts itself as America’s Queen of the classics. He might as well have said he just finished Paris-Roubaix. I was unworthy!! We shared some war stories as the miles rolled past.

I also got a chance to use my birthday gift. Hottie consulted some knowledgeable and opinionated members of my team, and based on their recommendation, she was able to get me a Garmin bike computer at a ridiculous price. I am almost intimidated at the data which is now at hand. I suffer from an inner battle as my romantic view of things says, “Just ride,” while my OCD side wants to know how the grade and pace altered my heart rate. It will be interesting to see how this plays out in the coming months.

Hottie and I caught a matinee and then it was time for yard work.

Short grass makes for a fast racing circuit..
I cut the grass for the first time all year. It was an ordeal. With little sun in the winter the grass in the Pacific Northwest hibernates and doesn’t grow much from November till spring. In the summer you have to cut it twice a week, but this isn’t yet summer. The depth of the “field” choked our mower, which was hoping for a few easy pre-season workouts before tackling the green monster. Inside the washer and dryer were likewise gainfully employed.

As the sun went down, I ironed shirts while we watched sports on TV. I baked and then froze some blueberry almond scones for the week and we still had some of the bread that was baked Saturday morning. We set alarms for five fifteen so we could make it to Monday’s spin class and called it a weekend.

Ronde Van Palouse Race Report 2011

We all look good before the slaughter begins

A year ago the Vance Creek Road Race was the second weekend in April. I had assumed it would be on the same weekend in 2011 and planned accordingly. I had seen announcements about the Ronde van Palouse, which sounded interesting, but was in conflict with Vance Creek so I looked the other way.

A couple of weeks ago I realized Vance Creek had been moved to May, so the weekend was open. The Ronde promised an alternative from the ultra-serious road racing and Hottie and I were in need of a little break anyway. The fact that the race was on my birthday was an added bonus.

I watched the weather and when I was convinced it wouldn’t be wet, I signed up and booked a room. I noted one of my friends who rides for bikesale.com was already registered, so I took some solace in knowing there would be at least one familiar face in the hinterlands to the east.

I bailed early from work and Hottie and I enjoyed an uneventful drive over with sunshine and a sleeping greyhound in the back. Either my haste or laziness resulted in my booking a room in Post Falls Idaho (4 miles from the border).

The town is so small they all share the same mail box.
The morning of the race dawned clear and crisp, with the promise of warmer temperatures by race time. The Spokane area is at the intersection of rolling farm fields and pine covered hills. The drive to the race was pretty and I was excited.

I got a coffee on the way and realized just how serious they are about racing in the northeast corner of the state...

Hmmmmm

After driving the course, we returned to the starting area. I spotted Kevin and we were both glad to claim a friend in this hostile land. Our field was lean in number as well as body type. We rolled out and the first few miles we all behaved like gentlemen.

After a full rotation of double pacelines we hit our first significant roller. A drop of one hundred and sixty feet where I clocked 44 mph. Up the other side was a climb of the same elevation and I never got out of my big chain ring. The kindness had ceased and the field began to splinter. I made the selection and was in a lead group of five.

The rollers were pretty typical. Steep at the bottom (where you are carrying your speed), and tapering near the top, so you could power over. Then a nasty one broke the pattern and kicked up at the top. I lost some ground and let a gap form. As I pushed to close it, I felt a cramp in my right calf.

I decided to cruise for a minute and catch on with the next group. Much sooner than I expected I had company. Our chase group wasn’t very organized and soon we too were split up. A right turn and we were headed south and fighting the winds the Palouse is famous for. Nobody gained or lost much, but I did close on the rider in front of me.

Soon we turned onto the gravel that was the reason for the race. Channeling my inner Katie Compton, I ignored the urge to slow down and plowed down the first loose downhill. Then I used my Cyclocross skills to power up the gravelly rollers. I was able to spot soft dirt and avoid it. I was catching riders who were lacking either in boldness, or skills, in riding the loose stuff. The second stretch of road was soft and the wheel tracks told me lots of riders were getting sideways. I moved my weight back and focused on keeping my pedaling motion smooth and I passed some more fledgling souls.
The dirt road turned once more and was firmer and faster. As I approached a steep uphill a rider to my right was out of the saddle and his rear wheel was slipping. Pedaling hard, with my weight on my rear wheel, I blasted over the hill and soon we were back on pavement. In a minute or two, our group reformed and we started working together as we approached the killer hills near the end of the first lap.

I kept drifting back and catching up with this group. As we neared the top of the longest climb of the route I was off the back. I nearly caught up as we peaked on the final climb, which rose to the high point of the whole course and provided an inspiring vista which I would have enjoyed if I could have caught my breath and un-crossed my eyes

Soon I was rolling past the start line, then past the finish line and on the second and final lap. I was living the lonely life of a dropped rider. I spotted someone up ahead and tried to time the gap between us. The gap was sixty seconds, then forty, then twenty, and then I was close, but didn’t seem to be gaining. The rollers and wind had us both getting out of the saddle periodically. As I finally closed it down I realized it was Kevin. He was cooked and we hit the gravel together. I rode smartly through the loose stuff and when I got back on the pave’ I soft pedaled until Kevin caught up. He was grateful and we soon caught another spent rider from our group and the three of us worked together. The hills were relentless and when I got out of the saddle my quads were both cramping. I thought I had been drinking enough, but a spin class on Friday morning combined with the long drive with little to drink and dry climate gave me plenty of reason to be low on electrolytes.

The three of us limped the last few miles like a true band of brothers. On the final two climbs I felt good until I got out of the saddle only to sit down and cry “uncle.” I told them to go on and I geared down and spun a lower gear seated and to my surprise, caught up. I repeated this on the final hill and soon we were zipping toward the finish.

Kevin kept at the front and led me like he knew it was my birthday. We were three across with 200M to go and I felt it my duty to announce that I was going to sprint. I went and my companions let me have my glory. My quads cramped and I just stayed on it, and I let the burn overcome the pain.

As riders stood around afterwards, they all looked like they had suffered on the ride. There is a look that says I gave the last 200 meters all I had, and there is another look that says I gave the whole 48 miles everything I had. I saw lots of the latter. I didn’t see anyone asking to add another lap to the race next year. My computer told me I had just over three thousand feet of climbing on the day. The fact that we were more than a half mile above sea level may have also contributed to my experience.

Post Race notes:
My bike was wonderful with 25mm tires at 105 psi. I wore a short sleeved jersey with two under shirts (one mesh and the other wool) and arm warmers. I also wore knee warmers and toe covers and a little poly skullcap kept my cozy. I started with a vest, but peeled it off halfway through the first lap.
The race was well staged with controlled intersections and lead, and follow, cars. Although the fields were small they were fast and it was an adventure.
The Cyclocross skills were a huge advantage.