Good vs. bad

Good thing: Got a big project that will pay pretty well.

Bad thing: Tight deadline, kind of a lot of work.

Good thing: It'll right the ship after we paid off the credit card and the bill from the April crash.

Bad thing: Still not enough to get Chris a new car.

Good thing: With no big bills hanging over us, it's possible to save faster for big things, like new bikes.

Bad thing: The Felt still hasn't sold.

Good thing: But if the Felt does sell, it'll be a big chunk toward the new bike.

Bad thing: I'll still have to save for a few months before the new bike can be ordered.

Good thing: This post is done, as is an interview for the big project mentioned above.

Bad thing: Now that I'm done with "work," I have to go to "work."

Gam Jams Review: Recovery drinks - Slimfast*

*Target-brand Slimfast, actually.

In my running days, I remembered reading a message board post about breakfast for those who run in the morning. One guy had a little bit of granola and then headed out the door for his run. Upon his return, he usually only had a can of Slimfast and then headed to work.

Wait -- if you're running, you surely don't need Slimfast, do you? Well, not as a meal replacement, which is how it's marketed. And certainly a cyclist won't be replacing any meals with Slimfast. But a cyclist can use it after a race or hard workout.

Check the labels sometime -- Slimfast against a designer recovery drink like Muscle Milk or Powerbar Recovery. They're awfully close. Lots of protein, some vitamins, some sugar.

Price-wise, there's no comparison: $6.99 for four 8oz Powerbar drinks or $4.59 for six 12oz Target-brand Slimfast drinks.

And the win goes to Target. During multiple-race weekends, I pop one immediately after each race and chase it with good food and Gatorade. It's easy to skip out on refueling after a race, because you want to start talking to teammates and other riders and such. But it's not too hard to remember to get to the cooler, drink a funny-tasting can of Target-brand Slimfast and then talk to everybody.

Plus, it's way cheaper. At our house, cheaper = instant popularity.

In the absence of pictures ...

... mostly because I don't want to deal with all of that right now. So, the Felt is on the block. I mentioned that a few times last week. Until the new ride gets here (that's hinging on the Felt, by the way), I'll need something to ride.

The Bianchi, of course, is the answer. It's a 2003 Brava, silver. It was my first grown-up bike, and it's seen a number of uses. It's been raced, pulled trailers and -- for the last year and a half -- been adorned with fenders. But it hasn't been the primary bike since late 2006.

It came with a mix of Shimano Sora and 2200 parts. Never heard of 2200? It's the black-clad gruppo that just says "Shimano" on it. My crank and derailleurs were 2200. Shifters and brakes were Sora.

I say "were," because those parts are no more. Well, in that configuration, at least.

Allow me to introduce the "new" Bianchi ... again, sans pictures. It's actually better if you use your imagination.

Dura-Ace 7800 shifters/rear derailleur/pedals
2200 crankarms/front derailleur
Ultegra chainrings
Sora front brake
Tektro rear brake
105/Ultegra chain
Ultegra 10-speed cassette
Bontrager Race Lite front wheel
Mavic CXP22 rear wheel

Wow. It's a piece of work. Look for it at your local group ride soon.

Better living through narcotics

As you might have guessed, a broken back gives you access to any number of high-octane pain killers. Though I don't encourage the use of heavy-duty tranquilizers, there's nothing like popping a couple of pills and sleeping like a rock.

I generally wake up around 6, ready to roll. But sometimes I wake up around 4, wondering what happened and why I'm sideways on the couch. Either way, I win.

But here's the deal with zonking out on the couch every night: (Yes, I still sleep on the couch. Chris shouldn't be punished for me not being able to corner properly.) I don't have many pills left. And I don't have any refills. So I need to start going about this a different way.

True, whiskey would be the logical choice. Easy to get, no doctor's note needed. There's also that whole liver-destruction thing. So nix that.

Beer? Too many calories. I've managed to gain only two pounds during this dormant phase (getting on six weeks now) and I haven't stopped eating. So no, no beer.

Ibuprofen would be easy, too, but I'd rather not have my stomach lining eaten away. I know, I nitpick, but still ... .

The choice I went with last night was this: don't take anything. Hmmm. Well, I woke up a few times during the night, probably because I wasn't in a drug-induced coma. And I don't feel nearly as fresh right now. But I'm doing OK.

And that's a good thing. Because I'd hate to get busted in a random doping control at the Corporate Cycling Challenge.

Huh. Now what?

Despite the status of my back -- healing quite nicely, thanks for asking -- July has pretty much zoomed by. I can probably thank the Tour de France for that, since I watched it every morning for three weeks.

As such, I barely noticed that I wasn't on my bike. The month I had circled on the calendar all winter went by without too much in the way of the feeling of "missing out." At the very least, I was able to watch some teammates stand on the podium.

But hey, the Tour is over now. And I still can't ride (very far), so ... hmm. I guess I just sit around now? Start building model airplanes? Work more? No idea.

I guess I'll have to get that figured out. In the meantime, someone buy my bike already, huh?

Retirement

I kitted up around 5:30 Wednesday and wandered down to the garage, where the Felt lives. Aired up the tires, checked the shifting and buckled on my shoes. A few minutes later, I was on my way to the Bike Masters ride.

After the usual pre-ride chit-chat, we rolled out. My plans involved turning around when we reached the edge of town. But when we got there -- it seemed like it only took a couple of minutes -- I didn't want to stop. So I went to ahead farther, to the next turnaround possibility. When the group turned left to open hostilities, I turned right and soft-pedaled home (I'm only good for about 30-40 minutes right now).

And that was likely the Felt's last ride -- at least with me on it. I realized as I was spinning home that my first ride on the Felt was over the same road.

I remember it being really cold for October (mid-30s, maybe?), and windy, too. And I remember being underwhelmed by that ride. I just paid how much? For this? Oh man ... .

That was mainly first-ride awkwardness, though. The chainrings and cassette were very different than the Bianchi setup, and I remember the seat height being very, very wrong. But after that ... yeah, that bike worked for me. I did some great things on that bike.

And now it's time to move on. The Felt is still for sale. It's waiting for a new home. It's a good bike. It's just not for me anymore.

Gam Jams Review: Seatpacks - Jandd

Without any sort of actual data to back me up, I'm pretty sure one of the top sellers at the store is the seatpack. It has to be right up there with tubes, tire levers and bottle cages.

Why? Because you need it. A seatpack is essential -- unless you're some sort of kook who carries everything in jersey pockets. And you're not a kook, are you?

Since I'm not a kook, I use the Jandd Mini Mountain Wedge. I got it in the fall of 2006, when I bought my Felt (still for sale, by the way). At the time, I paid no attention to the bag itself. It did the job; it held my stuff. And it was around $20.

But after using it for a few years, I can tell you a bit more. One, there's a little pocket underneath the main compartment. I keep a presta/schrader valve adapter in there, along with a couple of bucks. The heavy nylon shell of the bag is just flexible enough to allow the jamming of lots of stuff, but still holds its shape pretty well.

I can fit a tube, CO2 inflator and a spare cartridge, levers and a multi-tool inside. Everything else -- food, phone and ID -- goes in the jersey pockets. That's what those pockets are for, right? Who wants to reach for some food and end up with a tire lever?

Cinderella, dressed in yella'

As mentioned at least 500 million times over the course of cycling history, there is no jersey more coveted than the Maillot Jaune of the Tour de France. It's been around for about a zillion years (1913) and tends to turn guys into Superman (see: Thomas Voeckler).

Today, Alberto Contador is back in yellow in the Tour. They're on the low slopes of a pretty ridiculous climb right now, actually. Anyway, he's in yellow. And by "in yellow," I mean all in yellow, like Alejandro Valverde up above. But here's the deal: it's yellow jersey, not full yellow kit and bike.

Check out Lance over the years. Yellow jersey. In Paris, he often rode a special bike and had a yellow-highlighted helmet, but that's it. The rest of his days in yellow were jersey-only days. Even Floyd Landis, who isn't exactly known for fashion sense, looked like a traditional race leader in 2006. Regular shorts seen here, with different ones for yellow here. Floyd actually changed his kit to not look like a total fool (though the "total fool" part did come later).

As a guy who pays too much attention to stuff like that, I gotta say it looks a lot better when the leader actually looks like he's on the same team as the swarm of worker bees around him. I'm all for a little something special in Paris, but dressing like a flouresent banana isn't it.

Omaha Wildlife: The Standing Bear Hammer

"Bike up!"

When I heard those words Sunday afternoon, I knew not to whom they were directed. Was it me? Or were they alerting me to the presence of a bike that was, indeed, "up?"

So goes my examination of a curious beast: The Standing Bear Hammer.

Habitat: The paved recreational trails around Standing Bear Lake, in northwest Omaha. While migration to and from the lake is possible, thanks to a pair of neighborhood connector trails, it's unlikely. See: Zorinsky Hammer.

Markings: The Standing Bear Hammer is considerably less flamboyant than its cousin, the Zorinsky Hammer. Standing Bear Hammers often select a more modest ride, such as a mid-level Trek from three or four years ago. Bicycles by Felt, Giant and Magna are also commonly selected. It should be noted, however, that the bike is likely to be "tricked out" with aero bars, much like that of a Zorinsky Hammer. Perhaps in an effort to be recognized as its own breed, the Standing Bear Hammer wears whatever feels good. It could be a "Free Tibet" jersey with old Pearl Izumi shorts and tube socks, or it could be simply a pair of denim shorts. Helmets appear to be optional equipment.

Behavior: One area where the Standing Bear Hammer mimics the Zorinsky Hammer is speed. Both thrive at high speeds on busy trails. Because of that speed, they feel it's best to warn others of their presence and maintain that speed, possibly so other trail users can see the majesty of the Hammer in full flight. But if the Zorinsky Hammer is the long-distance (7-8 mile range) champion of Omaha, the Standing Bear Hammer is the short-track racer. Simply by the construction of the lake's paths, the Standing Bear Hammer can't do a full loop -- the trail doesn't connect on the west side. As such, it's 3.5 miles of full gas at Standing Bear Lake.

Seasons: Late May to early September, with a late-July peak. Many of the Hammer species won't ride in the "cold." Example: last week's cool stretch in Omaha, when the lows were in the 50s.

Additional observations: Some credit must be given to the Hammer I saw in my most recent encounter. There's a stretch of pavement several hundred feet long that winds through the trees, and the Hammer cleaned up on it. Weaving side to side gracefully, he had no problems with the gentle curves of the trail. I must admit that had I not been afraid for my own safety, I would have loved to ride the next three-quarters of a mile with him, back to his Escalade.

---

Other news: Brady's bike, Old Yeller, was stolen on Friday. Uncool. Be on the lookout for it. More info here.

Trouble

Bike shop types know all about QBP -- Quality Bicycle Products, out of Minneapolis. It's the massive distributor that supplies every shop in the country with pretty much everything. If you special-order something, it probably came from QBP.

Here is a good bit of writing about the QBP catalog. I'll echo that, but add this: that thing can get you in trouble, especially when you get bike shop deals. While I'm scheming for a new race bike, I realized I had 95 percent of the necessary parts to overhaul the Bianchi. And then there's still that Trek project (stalled only because I don't have time for it).

Yikes.

If I was riding, I wouldn't even think about all of this right now. But since I'm not ... yeah, this is what happens. Flipping through the pages, building bikes in my head. I need to figure out how to build bikes in the shop now, too.

GamJams Review: Bontrager Race Lite cage

What plastic, absolutely necessary and costs $10-15 at the store but about 30 cents to make? That'd be the bottle cage. Can't get far without one.

The problem: there are literally hundreds of choices. Plastic, aluminum, stainless steel, titanium, some combination of the two. It's pretty nuts. I've used three different models in my short time, and I'm pretty much set on the Bontrager Race Lite cages.

It's easy to brush that recommendation off, since I sell them every day, but I wouldn't use them if they didn't work. My Bianchi has aluminum cages, which are horrible, and I started with the Profile Design Stryke cage on the Felt. The blue matched perfectly, which is nearly impossible.

I was happy with them for a year or two, but then they started cracking and dropping bottles. They're pretty flexy, really. So, after the second one broke, I stole Chris' Race Lites. She wasn't riding at the time, so that means they're mine now, right?

Anyway, the Race Lite cage is just flexible enough, but really pretty stiff. The top lip holds a bottle very securely. I've never dropped a bottle from these. Plus, they're cheap. Not 30 cents cheap, but cheap enough. And I've never seen one break, so that's a bonus, too.

A good home is needed: The Felt is for sale. I mentioned that the other day. Here's the Craigslist ad. Pass the word.

Planning/scheming/hoping

As I've recovered from this latest setback (understatement?), I've realized more and more that I really don't want to ride the Felt anymore.

It's structurally sound and it has nice stuff on it - Force/Ultegra. It's light, it's comfortable, it's fast.

And it scares the hell out of me. I don't know what it is. I want to ride, but just not that bike. Actually, check that. I want to ride that bike, but I can't even fathom taking it into a corner. No way.

Even when I was going well after the first big crash, I didn't feel good on it. I'm positive it's 99 percent mental. But I don't see it coming around.

So it comes down to this. The Felt is for sale. It's a 58. It weighs 17.12 pounds in race trim (race wheels, no bottles). It has very new Force shifters/derailleurs (less than 1500 miles) and Ultegra SL brakes. The Ultegra crank is original, but I can put new chainrings on it if you're interested.

Email me if you want to check it out.

Let's be frank: that sucked

The Omaha Cycling Weekend has come and gone. My offseason work and races were aimed at building toward something good this weekend. Maybe next year.

I watched teammates record wins and podium finishes, and I know I could have been up there, too. And as I hung out with other riders before and after the races, I realized that sucked just as much as not being on the road. While they got their bikes ready, I was cutting bagels and answering questions. I wrote about the races afterward instead of recapping them over a beer with teammates.

It's nice to see the other side, but I would have rather been kitted up and on the bike.

Oh well. Only a few more weeks. I get my bike back this week, too.

Venga venga venga!

The Tour is going up today. That's going to be pretty cool. I missed all of this stuff the first time Tour Fever swept through. I was a runner then, and didn't even have a bike until 2005.

The 2006 Tour was the first one I really followed. It wasn't until last year when we even had Versus. We watched the recap show every night. Now, being broken, we're home watching it live. And it's in HD, which is more than awesome.

Also, this weekend is the Omaha Cycling Weekend. Three races, two days. This was my prime goal for the year. I aimed my peak at this one, knowing it was going to be a challenge. TT, crit, RR. It's going to be interesting. Kaos has some great cards to play in the Cat. 4 race. Those riders are the foundation of next year's Cat. 3 group, so I'm hoping for good things out of them.

Me, I'll be helping at the race, working and then helping again. Such is the life of the broken.

Gam Jams Review: Computers - Cateye Strada Wireless

From what I've learned in 30 seconds of shoddy researching, bike computers have been around since the 1980s. And up until a couple of years ago, pretty much all of them had wires between the speed sensor and the computer itself.

Man, what a pain.

Nine times out of 10, the wire develops a kink, which turns into a short, which turns into a new computer entirely. When people come into the shop looking for a computer, I always steer them toward the wireless ones.

For one, they'll probably want us to install it. The wireless ones take way less time. Also, they're just better. The one I use -- the Cateye Strada Wireless -- is the best. Or, rather, it's the best I've messed around with. I'm sure there are other good ones out there. I just like this one a lot, for a few reasons.

1. It's easy to use. There are no buttons on the top or sides. To cycle through the data, you push the whole computer down. It clicks on each press. Speed is always displayed and the click cycles the rest of it.

2. It can be mounted on the stem or handlebar. And you can change positions if you need to.

3. It's small and lightweight. But it's also easy to read.

It should be noted that the wired Strada works exactly like the wireless model. The mounting bracket design is also the same, and for some reason doesn't account for wired version of the computer base. So, basically, when you tighten down the wired base, you're pinching the cable. Pretty stupid. I went through two wired Stradas in six months before getting the wireless one.

Pony up the bucks and get the wireless version. Actually, that's good adivice no matter which computer you're buying. Mostly because I don't want to be the one stuck zip-tying a bunch of wires to your bike.

It's time for vacation

Here's how time off goes when you're stretched thin, both in schedule and money: You choose a day and go bum around town.

That day is today. We have a little money socked away, so we're going to go to the Children's Museum, eat lunch, do a little shopping, have a snack and head home.

Yeah, it's not a week-long trip to Chicago or the mountains or anything, but sometimes you have to make do with what's at your disposal. At least I can do it reasonably stress-free. There are no pre-race jitters in my head this week.

Kind of a bummer, but also kind of liberating. I'll send a postcard from vacation.

Oh, snap!

If there's one thing I've learned from riding with Spence, it's this: Get to the front when you think stuff is going to hit the fan. That means wind, hills, attacks. The guys in the back get dropped. And I've been dropped a lot.

That's how yesterday's Tour stage went. Columbia absolutely pinned it when the peloton reached a nasty cross-wind section. You could see it happening -- gutter the pack, drive the tempo, gap the pack. And that was pretty much it. If you were in the right place (the front), you made the split. If not, you didn't.

Smart guys made the split -- Armstrong and Cancellara. Contador, Evans and the Schlecks? Ummm ... nope. Ride at the front next time.

If there's a bonus to not being able to ride -- other than having a stress-free week with a rather large race looming -- it's watching the Tour live every morning. After breakfast and a bit of coffee, the Tour starts. And in HD this year. Pretty nice.

Well, apart from that broken back thing.

A really long ride

At some point in the summer, one of us (us being cyclists) will get a wild hair and plan a five- or six-hour ride that goes into Iowa or way north or south or west or something. It always turns out to be an adventure.

Our adventures are typically entertaining for a few days, but my friends Dave and Julie will have stories for the rest of their lives. They're in France right now, and Dave's riding the Tour route. Every stage, every day. Julie is driving a motor home behind him.

Wow.

Their blog is here. Go check it out -- there's a lot of build-up to the trip, and then the misadventures begin. For example, Dave crashed within a quarter-mile of starting in Monaco. The latest post is a long one, but it's a doozy.

Short of my own misadventures, Dave and Julie will have to carry you through July.

I probably don't say this enough

Thank you.

Chris and I have been reminded this year exactly how much friends are worth. Through all of the stuff that's happened, we've had unwavering support. Phone calls, emails, gifts, visits ... lots of them. It's been pretty amazing.

So, on this short and possibly rainy Friday, I'll say it again. Thank you. I hope that, if you ever need anything, we can come through for you.

OK, now go ride your bike.

GamJams Review: On-bike nutrition - GU, granola

In my few short years as an athlete -- running then riding -- I've come to realize that exercise-specific foods are a crock. Well, at least the pricing is. $1.50 for a packet of sugary gel? And you'll need four for a long (20 mile) run?

What about a four-hour bike ride? There's four more of them, probably. Yikes. And $1.50 is cheap, really. Clif Shot Bloks are $2 per pack. There are five blocks (ahem, bloks) in a pack. One serving is three bloks. Guess you'll need another package for that second serving, huh?

Anyway, like I said -- a bit of a crock. To combat extra costs, I eat things like Shot Bloks only in races. And it's going to have to be at least a 60-mile race for me to break those things out.

The rest of the time, I go with GU energy gel, since GU is a Team Kaos sponsor. Despite the price, I've learned there are a few things you just can't go without. High-revving energy is one of them. But that still doesn't mean I want to suck down four or five of them at a time.

To supplement the GU, I eat Nature Valley granola bars -- oats and honey. You can get them in giant boxes from Costco for $12, I think. It works out to a quarter per two-bar package. That's way better than the regular retail price, and no contest over a Clif Bar. Plus, it tastes way better.

Buy some stuff: The GamJams store is now operational. Go check it out. Cool stuff abounds.

Wilco will love you, baby

I've got nothing today, other than this: go get the new Wilco album. Do it.

OK, I have a little bit more. I'm getting antsy to go for a ride. It doesn't even have to be a fast one - I just want to go. Luckily for me and everybody involved, JP has my bike. It's better that way, trust me.