Friday discussion: Knife technique

Everybody in a household has different roles. Good cop/bad cop, etc. Those roles depend largely upon personality and all sorts of other elements of a person's being.

In our house, Chris prefers ... ahem, demands (in a nice way) ... things stay organized. Things need to be just so, to avoid clutter. I agree, to a point. If it's something that doesn't work in a non-organized state, I'm all for keeping it tidy. For everything else ... eh, whatever.

That situation, in itself, is unremarkable. That dynamic is present almost everywhere, which is why things get odd when you open the jar of Nutella or peanut butter.

Chris, you see, is a stabber. Her preference for neat, orderly operations goes out the window when the lid comes off. She plunges the knife deep into the jar and scoops out a dollop of its contents - like a spoon.

I, on the other hand, am a skimmer. Let's use a knife for knify things - like skimming off the top, going layer by layer. My method keeps things smooth and easily accessible inside.

Chris' method looks like a crime scene; goop splattered all over the sides, holes all the way to the bottom ... it's unsettling.

My stance: Knifes, especially butter knives, are meant for skimming, not stabbing. Also, it's making a damn mess of the Nutella jar.

Your stance: In the comments.

Chris' stance: This should be interesting ...

Grainy, blurry spy shot

It's not that I've been putting it off, but Chris' bike is nearing completion. It would be done today if not for the fact that I didn't pay attention to what it had for brakes. We're missing a few bits. And it's easier (and not much more expensive) to order a new pair. So they're on their way.

A couple of things to note:

• Yes, I'm aware that the wheels don't match. Oddly enough, I have only one matching set of wheels — on my new Madone.
• Yes, the front still has a road tire. I'm getting there.
  
• It's a SRAM Rival group.
• After the brakes, I'm considering a new fork. That's the aluminum original, so ... yeah.

I'll have more pics when it's done. Look for it soon.

Cranksgiving call to arms

No, I don't need more help with the event. Things are fully in control, and my henchmen will receive their marching orders very soon.

This call to arms is for the now-annual Cranksgiving fund drive. Last year, even while working on hourly pay with basically no benefits, my wife and I managed to find an extra $50 to donate. With $1, the food bank can purchase $9 worth of food. That $50 goes a long way.

We've done it again this year - our $50 is on the table. Who's going to join us? You can donate online here, or in person at Cranksgiving on November 13.

It's getting there

Way back in March, I launched GamJams Midwest. The goal was to create a local/regional cycling website that updates daily, doesn't regurgitate press releases and lets the racing community contribute items — photos, blog posts, etc. — that are important.

Basically, I wanted to deliver news. Every day.

I've published almost every weekday since March 1, which has obviously sucked up a lot of my time. But this weekend — finally — I feel like GJ-MW has actually arrived. Check out the fruits of this weekend's races: Photos, results, race reports. Lots of them.

But we've had all of those before. The key this weekend is that people were sending stuff in. I got a lot of emails and links from all over the place.

And that's how GJ-MW grows: the contributions of everybody out there. It's not my site, really. Algomaha is my site. GJ-MW is for everybody else out there.

So, basically, thanks to those who contributed. Onward and upward.

An attempt at being balanced

"We have to get you ... ."

"You need to get ... ."

"Just wait until ... ."

I've had a lot of very nice people making very nice offers to help "get me out on the dirt" or "get me out on this course" or "get me on gravel." The offers are appreciated and the enthusiasm is genuine, but I don't need to "get out" anywhere. I'll get there when I get there.

I'm not opposed to such things — it's just a matter of comfort. I'm working on it. Thanks to an extra project at work, I'll be able to spend a lot more time on dirt this year. It's more work, yes, but it's another bike to play on. I'll take it.

And I've been running a fair amount, too. And I have plenty of miles on the new Madone. Road is still the focus for next year, but I'm going to take my miles and workout where I can get it.

When the time comes for me to "get out" somewhere, I'll be there. For now, I'm just happy to be riding anywhere.

Friday Discussion: Road trip

I was talking to a few people earlier this week about the Nightcap Cross race in Des Moines last Friday. Universally, they all said it was awesome, a very cool event, etc. Lots of people, too, which is great.

But was something telling in the "who was there" commentary. Lots of Des Moines-area 'cross regulars that, for whatever reason, had never been seen at an Omaha or Lincoln race. I've heard similar discussions about Kansas City riders — there's plenty of racing in the area, so they don't travel.

Huh.

Why is it, then, that so many Omaha/Lincoln/Norfolk riders are so willing to travel? Is it the dearth of races available in these areas? Moreover, why do so many people go to Kansas City when Des Moines is closer (from Omaha, at least)?

My stance: It is indeed the lack of races that gets Nebraska people into the car. And it's the "we have it all here" mentality of Iowa/KC folks that keeps them from coming here for races (in big numbers, at least).

Your stance: In the comments.

Collection

Fun fact: I have a lifetime subscription to Rolling Stone. You read it right: lifetime. Way back in 2003, I think, I got a letter from RS that offered for some absurd sum ($75, I believe) a "lifetime" subscription.

At first, I was going to pass, because $75 was a lot of money at the time. Luckily, Chris is the brains of this operation. She told me I was a moron if I didn't take it. And now, my address tag reads: Exp: August 14, 2053. I hope I can outlast the magazine subscription.

Anyway, the issue with subscribing to a print magazine of any type for the last 15 years is the human tendency to keep said magazine on hand. As in, all of them. The picture above shows only a small sample -- from 2003ish forward. There are hundreds more ... umm ... somewhere. In the storage area under the steps, maybe?

The problem, of course, with keeping all of these around is the space issue. We don't have a lot to begin with, and me keeping 10-year-old magazines around isn't helping. I'm trying to figure out a good, tidy bike-parking solution for the garage and that issue with Maroon 5 inexplicably on the cover isn't helping.

So they're leaving -- most of them, at least. There are some that are keepers, for sure. The 40th anniversary issues are staying, as are those with Springsteen or the Beatles on them. The rest ... adieu.

I've always wanted to keep them around so I could dig back into them at a later date. I still want to be able to do that. But I'm putting my faith in the hands of technology, hoping that a digital archive will be out there (or maybe already is) so I can page through the magazine virtually.

And I hope by 2053 -- or within the next two years or so -- that digital delivery will have made enough strides that I won't have to worry about a stack of magazines ever again. I've said it before, publishers of print media: deliver your product digitally to an iPad-type device, make it look like your printed product and include links to additional content and I'll sign up on the spot.

Or, in simpler terms: Save me from myself. I need more room for bikes.

No good deed unpunished

For the first time this fall, it was actually cold when I clipped in. As Eric and I rolled out, it was 36 degrees. I actually had to find gloves with some sort of wind protection. The vest stayed on for a long time. I even wore knee warmers.

We explored the hills and valleys between Fort Calhoun and Blair, we wound it up far too high on a couple of occasions (my fault entirely), we had a nice ride.

And we found another stray dog. About a month ago, we escorted a big, dumb, wandering lab back to his home and called the owner. He was the typical country dog: he knows where home is, but sometimes he just likes to wander around ... in the middle of a blind curve.

Yesterday's dog was similarly sweet, but clearly needed some love. She was was rail thin and starved for attention, too. She was way too nice to be laying in the ditch, crouched over road kill.

So we escorted her the quarter-mile to the Douglas County line, called the Humane Society and waited for a pick-up. It added about an hour to a ride that was within 20 minutes of being done.

And that pushed back an interview I had set up for a newspaper story, which added work later in the evening. In the end, though, I got done what needed to be done — though it was considerably later than I hoped it would be.

Hopefully the karma bonus points will outweigh the momentary stress the rescue added. And hopefully that dog finds a good home.

We spent $60 at a pumpkin patch?

Yes, actually, we did.

The folks at Vala's Pumpkin Patch have a pretty good racket going. It was $12.75 apiece to get in — including Jack. Some snacks, a pumpkin and ... bang. $60. And we tried really hard to keep it reasonable. You could blow $100 really quick.

Upside: The smoked turkey leg was outstanding. And we got there early enough that we didn't have to deal with any parking issues. And Jack had fun, even though he didn't take a nap and has an unnatural fear of bouncy-house things.

Downside: We spent $60 at a frickin' pumpkin patch. For the record, pumpkins at Hy-Vee are $5.

Friday discussion — BK Pedestrian Bridge

On Wednesday, incumbent Congressman Lee Terry and challenger Tom White debated at the Omaha Press Club. Like many debates, it was pretty much all over the place. Standard stuff, really — no big deal.

But a tweet from Sean Weide really caught my attention: "Tom White just lost my vote by saying the Bob Kerrey pedestrian/bicycle bridge was the biggest waste of taxpayer money."

Whoa. Enage firestorm from the cycling community.

As it turns out, White was talking about a different bridge — the infamous "Bridge to Nowhere" that popped up in the mid-2000s. Whoops. Better be a little more clear about pork-barrel spending when the downtown pedestrian bridge has, itself, been called a bridge to nowhere. (White apologized personally to pretty much everybody who voiced displeasure with that, including myself.)

Those who have actually used it, of course, know it's far from a bridge to nowhere. Council Bluffs has more than 30 miles of paved trails and tons of bike lanes. The Loess Hills feature some of the most beautiful roads and climbs within 100 miles of here. And the bridge is crawling with people pretty much all the time.

It's true that in that picture, behind the trees on the far side of the river, there's not much going on. But, really, I don't care about that. I can get across the river safely and explore the other side.

Once this whole thing got rolling Thursday afternoon, there was plenty of dissent. "Too expensive." "We don't need it."

Look, the money is spent. Get over it (read all of that "Bridge to Nowhere" link, by the way, especially the end piece about the "Road to Nowhere."). And if you're cool with taking your bike for a drive every time you want to ride, I guess you really don't need to worry about alternate routes across the river.

My stance: It's an amenity we're lucky to have.

Your stance: Go to it.

Seriously, lady?

There's a letter to the editor in today's World-Herald talking -- again -- about Omaha's wheel tax.

(For those not in the know, the city is now charging $50/year to those who work in Omaha but don't live there. It's basically a street maintenance fee. Or, if you're a complete kook, it's "taxation without representation." Look, you drive on the streets, you can help maintain them. Period.)

The letter in question today is -- unlike many others -- in favor of the tax. Ultimately, though, that's beside the point. The gist of her letter is as follows:

I live about a mile from work, which should be a five-minute drive at most. But because there are so many people from outside of Omaha driving in, it sometimes takes up to 15 minutes. (Insert "pay for what you use" commentary here.)

Look, lady -- this should be a hint for you to get off your ass and do something different. You're a mile away. That's a 15-minute walk. That's less than a 10-minute bike ride. Hell, I could be there in five minutes if I ran.

A 15-minute drive to go one mile? Hello, fat Omaha. Jesus.

More of the same

Another 9 a.m. rollout, another good ride in the books.

There's a reason a lot of Midwest-types call autumn their favorite season. The humidity that made June, July and August oppressive is long gone. We've been left with mild temperatures, light winds and clear skies.

Knowing what's coming -- sooner or later -- I feel like I need to suck in as much of that fall air as possible. I kit up, roll down the driveway and get as many miles in as time allows. It's going to get bad; I want to take advantage of the good.

Sometimes I feel greedy for so willingly devouring those miles. I probably could have (should have?) mowed the lawn yesterday. But the lawn is just grass. It'll be there today when I get home, and I'll take care of it then.

Fall in the Midwest is fleeting sometimes. You might not get more than a few weeks. That's what I think of when I'm rolling down the driveway.

Better enjoy it while it lasts.

Changing seasons

The last time I stood at this intersection, everything was green. It was after the heavy August heat and before the inevitable fall cooling.

This morning, the air was indeed cooler. The crops are gone, and the remaining green will be, too.

I think I'll come back in another month to see it change again. But I doubt I'll get away with peeling off the arm warmers after the first couple of hills like I did today.

Nice ride, boys.

Adjustments

I have just about 200 miles on the new Madone, and for all intents and purposes, it's pretty much the same (fit-wise) as the others. Of course, the ride is amazing and it's snappy and light and all of that good stuff.

But going to a different saddle after a year of the same saddle ... oof. I'm on the Bontrager Affinity RXL saddle, a lightweight road saddle designed as the follow-up to the original InForm series. I rode it at the Trek World demo back in August, so I wasn't too worried about ordering it on the new Madone.

Compared to the InForm RXL saddle, which is unrideable, this thing is like sitting on a cloud. It is, however, different than what I'm used to. It's a little bit firmer, a little less forgiving. While my legs were certainly tired at the end of yesterday's four-hour-plus ride, the tender bits were ... well, tender.

I'm guessing it's a matter of getting used to something new. If not, I know which saddle works for me. No big deal.

Other highlights: Dura-Ace wheels are awesome, a fresh Force group is bliss and 16% grades hurt, no matter which bike you're on.

Friday discussion — Road tubeless

Long ago, long before I knew anything about anything relating to bikes (one could question whether I know anything right now, actually), I rode a pair of Dura-Ace tubeless wheels.

They were the 7801-SL version, and I took advantage of a RAGBRAI demo to give them a shot. I was pretty much hooked instantly. Fast and stiff and light. And smooth — so, so smooth.

Fast forward to the winter, when I bought a slightly used pair from a teammate. I set them up tubeless and raced them the next summer and into 2009. One wheel was destroyed in the Lincoln crash, while the other remained unscathed (it now serves as a training wheel).

I spent the rest of 2009 and all of this season on standard clinchers. They were just fine, but I really like road tubeless.

My current bike has Dura-Ace tubeless wheels once again — the 7850 C24 TU model. It's fast and smooth and light. And there are more tire choices available each season. They're loaded with Caffe Latex (but no glitter, Rafal) and have the Bontrager R4 tubeless tire (aka the Hutchinson Atom).

My stance: Road tubeless is going to be huge within two years. It makes too much sense not to be.

Your stance: In the comments. Go!

The same, but different

After digging through the new Trek product guide the day before Trek World began, I had one paint job I really wanted to see in person. The others were certainly nice, but this scheme stood out.

And when I saw it at the show, my mind was made up — easy. You know those old Ford GTs? This paint job reminded me of that. The blue may be a light blue, but it's a strong blue. The contrasting white, silver and red sections bring it all together.

Plus, after the orange bike (an exercise in excess) and the black bike (stealthy and subtle), this one seems just right. This one is ... well, pretty.

The details: Madone 6 Series SSL frame, SRAM Force componentry, Bontrager RXL carbon blade handlebar, Bontrager XXX-Lite carbon stem, Bontrager Affinity RXL saddle, Bontrager RXL carbon cages, Shimano Dura-Ace 7850 C24 carbon tubeless wheels.

The weight: 15 pounds, 12 ounces with pedals, cages and computer setup. That's a full pound lighter than my black Madone in race trim.

Essentially, it's a nicer version of the black bike. The SSL frame is stiffer and lighter, and the Dura-Ace wheels are hard to beat. (I really missed Dura-Ace wheels.) But the components, handlebar and fit are the same. I liked what I had going on the black bike.

Now everything is just lighter and shinier.

Common thread

I'm new enough to the "shop managers get demo bikes" game that I'm still fairly worked up over the arrival of my new ride. I'm sure that in a few years I'll be a grouchy old bastard like Mark (or, god forbid, Jay), but for now it's pretty cool.

So I've been tracking the progress of this machine for the last week (by the way, from the time it was ordered to the time it was shipped was a mere five days. damn!), including the shipping process. Janesville, Wisc., to Oak something, Wisc., to Davenport, Iowa, to Des Moines and finally to Omaha late yesterday afternoon.

Today's status update came at 4:45 a.m. — out for delivery. Nice.

My first status update of the day came shortly thereafter. Jack has been kind of sketchy with sleep lately. He's trying to push boundaries and stay up later (he just gets out of bed and stands at his door), and he's been waking up at random times.

Like today, for example: 3:55. He had to pee, which is better than waking up to a wet little boy. The problem with that, however, is that he thought it was time to get up. He was wide awake, jabbering away as I tried to calm him down and get him back into bed.

He was up again at 4:15. And then 4:35. And then 5. Finally, I just got out of bed.

Out for delivery? I might be out on the couch by 10.

A logistical nightmare

Friday's discussion got me thinking about local routes that capture the best of what Omaha has to offer in terms of roads, terrain and difficulty. So, of course, I mapped one. Call it the dream race course: rolling hills, wide-open flats, incredibly steep pitches ... as well as a total nightmare, both from a riding and organizing standpoint.

So nevermind how it could happen — it probably can't — but instead soak in how fun it would be to contest this course.

Click here for the details. (It borrows a bit from Mark's CB Hill Loop.)Yup, it's hilly, but there are also long stretches of open road. There are three sections of bricks, including the last quarter-mile. One of them is almost a mile long. And it's just shy of 75 miles. Now that's a race.

Of course, the field will be spread to hell and back and there's a slight highway issue to deal with near Glenwood. Oh, and a toll booth in Bellevue.

But man, would this be fun or what?

Also, would this be a extremely difficult to manage or what?

Friday Discussion: The scene

As I wrote earlier in the week, there's a lot of good riding around Omaha. Road, dirt, gravel ... tottering down a paved rec trail ... — it's all here if you know where to look. Stretch that out to the rest of eastern Nebraska, and we're all pretty lucky.

But can it get better? Sure it can. But how? Well ...

I'd like to see a more balanced race schedule. Is there any good reason why the road season should end in July? Not really. Of course, that's a matter of an interested party promoting a race in August — and we're a little short on interested parties right now.

I'm well aware that there's little to be said about someone who's bringing up a problem without offering a solution, but that's what I'm doing here. I'm not sure what the solution is. Move a race to August? Add a new one? No idea.

So think of it as a hypothetical. If you were going to add a race to the Nebraska road schedule in August, where would it be?

My stance: I'd like to do a circuit race in Ponca Hills. It would be hilly as all get out, and there would be significant carnage (metaphorical carnage, that is), but it would be cool.

Your stance: Go.