It's time to pick up a gun and start shooting.
Kenda Cup Unification Race, CrossVegas, & State Finals all within one week. And a little soccer too.
Sep 17, 2009
Aug 21, 2009
Of course, an office window might make me feel otherwise
I don't remember how, but I ran across this booked called, Let My People Go Surfing by Yvon Chouinard, the founder and owner of Patagonia clothing. Even though I'm fascinated with the life aquatic, I'm not one for surfing and as far as I know, I've never owned a thread of Patagonia clothing. It was actually the subtitle of the book, the education of a reluctant businessman that sparked my interest. I don't consider myself a businessman either, but I have always thought seriously of owning my own magazine, advertising or PR agency, but have been too reluctant to do much more than just think about it.
There was that time that I tried making a go of it purely on freelance writing, but I was young, my list of clients was too small, and I spent too much time riding moto and bicycles when I should have been at home writing. Maybe that makes me the ultimate reluctant businessman.
I'm only about a quarter of the way through the book and I'm already impressed with Patagonia's business philosophy and practices. Owner, Chouinard says he's always had a problem with authority and the traditional ways of doing business, which is why he started his own company in the first place. Being his own boss allowed him the time to climb, surf, and ski – all the while testing the hardware and clothing his company would eventually sell.
I too have always had a problem with authority and societal expectations. From inside my own body and mind, I know wrong from right. I don't need someone else translating it for me. That's how or why I became a writer in the first place. It allowed me to express my own thoughts in most anyway I wanted to, just as long as it followed the rules of the English language. That kind of authority I could live with. But just as man has evolved into a TV watching, fast food eating, video game playing, lazy sports fan lump, I let my guard down and my labor of love was extinguished and pried away from me by one with more expensive tastes and stronger convictions than I. One of my life's few regrets so far.
I guess the difference between myself and Chouinard is that he likes authority even less than I do and he's also less reluctant than I am. That's why he took the risk and I haven't. As far back as I can remember everything I've ever enjoyed doing involved taking sizable physical risks, but when it comes to taking a financial risk, I guess I'm a coward. I'm only willing to sacrifice so much apparently.
My longtime struggle with authority and societal expectations only gets worse as I get older and find myself with less time to do the things that I really enjoy. Through my dealings with foreign colleagues who are constantly on holiday, one thing is apparent; this country works too much. It may be the land of the free, but it's certainly not the land of the free time.
So what are my options? What is the alternative? Maybe Chouinard's book will help me figure it out. Or maybe I should write my own damn book.
Aug 17, 2009
At least he didn’t say basketball
Tonight at 7 pm I'm going to a kick-off meeting for Ryder's soccer team. He's only 4, so this is his first year of soccer. He recently said that he can kick further than any of his friends, and that could be because we've been practicing lately and he can put the thing pretty far. Or at least he does when his foot and the ball make the right connection. Still, I'm nervous for him. I realize that they're only 4-year-olds and there probably won't be a lot of soccer, by actual definition, being played, but I want him to feel as though he's good at it. If, for some reason, his teammates can kick further or are faster, or are more aggressive, I don't want him to get discouraged. It's easy to get discouraged at his age. Unfortunately he doesn't have the luxury yet of spending hours on his bicycle pedaling away the despair. That's probably a moot point anyway. Yesterday I asked him a simple question. "What do you like better, running or riding your bike?" He answered with, "Swimming."
Aug 5, 2009
Please consider history before not printing this blog
I realize that the practice may not be completely dead, but you never hear about someone having a pen pal anymore. Like milk men, pen pals have pretty much fallen by the wayside. Email, Facebook, etc. can be blamed for putting an end to pen pals. Because of the World Wide Web, its seems everyone has become everyone else's superficial pen pal. In the future, actual hard copy letters from one person to another are bound to be scarce. No longer will we get to watch a Ken Burns documentary on PBS where the narrator recites a heartfelt letter penned in actual hand writing on aged paper that reads:
My Dearest Loretta,
This may be the last letter I write to you. Cholera has spread throughout our office and I fear I have drunken from the contaminated water cooler from which it lives. As I write this letter my breathing is faint, my skin blue, and hand shaky. If this is my last letter yada, yada, yada...
Since most communication between people today is through email and other forms of electronic media that gets deleted, it means we'll lack the history and record of many personal relationships. It's kind of a double-edged sword. People want to save the environment by not printing emails, but what about saving memories. For almost the same reasons, the world is going to have a serious lack of printed photographs too.
So what's worse - a lack of trees or a lack of history?
"Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you." - Bookends
This just gave me a great name for my next punk band; The Dead Pen Pals.
Jul 29, 2009
Dear Loyal Reader (Reader, singular)
It seems that work, Face Book, and Twitter have taken away my will to blog. But, I'm getting increasingly bored of Face Book and all its invitations, games, quizzes, etc. In my opinion Twitter is where it's at, but it can only survive if people are creating content on the web to link to their tweets. With that said, I plan to start blogging again (when time and inspiration permit). That would be considered "creating content," wouldn't it? Whether anyone will actually read it; now that's a different story.
In the meantime, follow me on Twitter at http://twitter.com/MattFreemanRace
I promise I'm not one of those twits who tweets about every mundane action throughout their day.
Jun 30, 2009
I'm posting this from my phone
Is it too soon to point out that MJ and Farrah had the same nose job?
Jun 18, 2009
It seems these days I can’t swing a dead cat without hitting some NKOTB who is bringing something new to the table. One of these new additions, specifically the new Very Unofficial Team Redlands Blog I welcome with open arms. I mean, in this high tech era of Face Book and Twitter, at least someone out there is still apt to picking up the feather quill pen in order to knit a roaring good yarn of a blog.
Since someone else has all the bike stuff well handled, I’ll concentrate my efforts on something that interests everyone. No, not Seven Civil War stories your teach never told you. I’m talking about show biz, celebrity gossip, and entertainment news.
I work with Matt DeMeritt, who is one of 3 people to wear the ET suit during the filming of ET. He was 12 years old when the movie was filmed, but time has not been kind to Matt. Now 39, he is a writer at ESRI and for fun he plays and records music. He has no home studio so all his recordings sound pretty bad. If you think that’s a sob story, Robert MacNaughton, the kid who played the eldest brother on ET is now a mail man. Aren’t those the guys that always go crazy and come back with a gun and shoot everybody?
Anyway, I sat down with Matt a few days ago to talk about work and instead we talked about ET.
Were you aware of all the blatant product placement of Reese’s Pieces that was going on during the filming of ET?
No. I was too busy eating them to even notice. There was an inexhaustible supply, and that's all that mattered to me.
Could you tell if Drew Barrymore was drunk during the filming of the movie?
No. I was too busy getting drunk myself. There was an inexhaustible supply of beer (from the scene where ET gets drunk), and that's all that mattered to me.
Speaking of Drew Barrymore, how did you escape the demons that usually haunt most child actors?
Demons are slow. I out-maneuvered them with my special ET powers.
Can’t you ever be serious?
I don't answer questions framed in the negative.
How many girls did you get because of your role in ET?
Surprisingly, none at all. Chicks just aren't that impressed by a runt stuffed into a latex suit.
After directing Jaws, Close Encounters, and Raiders of the Lost Ark, E.T. seemed like a directorial disappointment for Spielberg. What was the morale like on the set like during the filming of ET?
It was jovial and positive, fueled mainly by an inexhaustible supply of Reese's Pieces and beer.
In 1985 Spielberg bounced back with accolades as the executive producer of The Goonies. Are you bitter for not getting the opportunity to work on that project?
I DID work on that project. I played the mutant's (Chunk) son, but ended up on the cutting room floor.
You don’t expect me to believe that, do you? I’ve told people the same thing about my deleted scenes in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Tell me about the ET 20-year reunion cast party that took place in 2002.
There was a 20-year reunion cast party that took place in 2002?
How did you go from “acting” to becoming one of America’s leading writers on the topics of caves, karst, and coal?
A Faustian bargain facilitated that leap.
You’re going to Hell, you know that right?
I went to the Lavendar Festival. Hell couldn't be much worse than that?
You've obviously never sat through the 100 Greatest Family Films TV show or the movie Cyborg 2.
Since someone else has all the bike stuff well handled, I’ll concentrate my efforts on something that interests everyone. No, not Seven Civil War stories your teach never told you. I’m talking about show biz, celebrity gossip, and entertainment news.
I work with Matt DeMeritt, who is one of 3 people to wear the ET suit during the filming of ET. He was 12 years old when the movie was filmed, but time has not been kind to Matt. Now 39, he is a writer at ESRI and for fun he plays and records music. He has no home studio so all his recordings sound pretty bad. If you think that’s a sob story, Robert MacNaughton, the kid who played the eldest brother on ET is now a mail man. Aren’t those the guys that always go crazy and come back with a gun and shoot everybody?
Anyway, I sat down with Matt a few days ago to talk about work and instead we talked about ET.
Were you aware of all the blatant product placement of Reese’s Pieces that was going on during the filming of ET?
No. I was too busy eating them to even notice. There was an inexhaustible supply, and that's all that mattered to me.
Could you tell if Drew Barrymore was drunk during the filming of the movie?
No. I was too busy getting drunk myself. There was an inexhaustible supply of beer (from the scene where ET gets drunk), and that's all that mattered to me.
Speaking of Drew Barrymore, how did you escape the demons that usually haunt most child actors?
Demons are slow. I out-maneuvered them with my special ET powers.
Can’t you ever be serious?
I don't answer questions framed in the negative.
How many girls did you get because of your role in ET?
Surprisingly, none at all. Chicks just aren't that impressed by a runt stuffed into a latex suit.
After directing Jaws, Close Encounters, and Raiders of the Lost Ark, E.T. seemed like a directorial disappointment for Spielberg. What was the morale like on the set like during the filming of ET?
It was jovial and positive, fueled mainly by an inexhaustible supply of Reese's Pieces and beer.
In 1985 Spielberg bounced back with accolades as the executive producer of The Goonies. Are you bitter for not getting the opportunity to work on that project?
I DID work on that project. I played the mutant's (Chunk) son, but ended up on the cutting room floor.
You don’t expect me to believe that, do you? I’ve told people the same thing about my deleted scenes in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Tell me about the ET 20-year reunion cast party that took place in 2002.
There was a 20-year reunion cast party that took place in 2002?
How did you go from “acting” to becoming one of America’s leading writers on the topics of caves, karst, and coal?
A Faustian bargain facilitated that leap.
You’re going to Hell, you know that right?
I went to the Lavendar Festival. Hell couldn't be much worse than that?
You've obviously never sat through the 100 Greatest Family Films TV show or the movie Cyborg 2.
Jun 1, 2009
Apparently there’s no iPhone app for image stabilization
As you may or may not know, I like blog race reports about as much as I like a sharp stick in the eye, so here’s the quick and dirty:
There may have been a round of the Pro XCT in Alabama on the same day, meaning some of California’s heavy hitters were bumping ‘n grinding in the deep southern woods instead of Big Bear, but I’ll take what I can get. And what I got was third, behind John Nobil and Chuck Jenkins. This, after I did Saturday’s entire Rain Cross ride aboard my Gary Fisher full-suspension mountain bike clad with 26 x 1.25 slicks. I’m not sure which day hurt worse.
There may have been a round of the Pro XCT in Alabama on the same day, meaning some of California’s heavy hitters were bumping ‘n grinding in the deep southern woods instead of Big Bear, but I’ll take what I can get. And what I got was third, behind John Nobil and Chuck Jenkins. This, after I did Saturday’s entire Rain Cross ride aboard my Gary Fisher full-suspension mountain bike clad with 26 x 1.25 slicks. I’m not sure which day hurt worse.
The End.
If you squint and look real close you can see me standing on the podium in the 3rd position. Concentrate on the middle left side of the photo.
May 29, 2009
May 21, 2009
On second thought, all of his columns were about the incompetency of the AMA
A Nepalese Sherpa guide has once again broken his own record, scaling Mount Everest for the 19th time, according to MSN.com. Appa, who like Madonna goes by one name, reached the 29,035-foot peak early today, guiding rich foreign clients and accompanied by several other fellow guides.
Appa, 48, first climbed Everest in 1989 and has done so almost every year since. His closest rival is fellow Sherpa guide Chhewang Nima, who has made 15 trips.
15 trips? Is that it? Some rival that is. That reminds me of the rivalry between the Beatles and the Beach Boys where after hearing the Sgt. Pepper album for the first time, Brian Wilson threw in the towel and wouldn’t leave his bedroom because he felt that his band couldn’t equal or outdo the Fab Four’s new release. Meanwhile, Sgt. Pepper summited to the US, UK, Australian, and even the hotly contested Norwegian charts. So much for that rivalry.
Or there was the editorial rivalry I had with Scott Rousseau when we both worked at Cycle News. He’d write a hard-hitting column and then I’d answer a week later with an equally as pungent or even better column. Then Rousseau would barricade himself in his office and come out with yet another one of his masterpieces. This went on for months until he wrote one that was so poignant, so dexterous, so moving that it blew my socks off. I don’t even recall what it was about – probably some tirade about the incompetency of the AMA – but in my mind it was genius and it would never be surpassed. So, I gave up and the rivalry ended and now I write for a software company and occasionally update this hack blog.
Let my story be a lesson for Chhewang Nima. He needs to strap on that oxygen mask and crampons so he can summit at least another 4 times and make this a real race. Somebody needs to be a worthy rival for that prima donna Appa and 15 times up the mountain just isn’t going to cut it. If you give up Chhewang Nima, you could very well end up giving guided tours of the Erie County Botanical Gardens in Buffalo, NY instead of guiding the rich up the South Col.
Or mabye Appa could be doping...
Appa, 48, first climbed Everest in 1989 and has done so almost every year since. His closest rival is fellow Sherpa guide Chhewang Nima, who has made 15 trips.
15 trips? Is that it? Some rival that is. That reminds me of the rivalry between the Beatles and the Beach Boys where after hearing the Sgt. Pepper album for the first time, Brian Wilson threw in the towel and wouldn’t leave his bedroom because he felt that his band couldn’t equal or outdo the Fab Four’s new release. Meanwhile, Sgt. Pepper summited to the US, UK, Australian, and even the hotly contested Norwegian charts. So much for that rivalry.
Or there was the editorial rivalry I had with Scott Rousseau when we both worked at Cycle News. He’d write a hard-hitting column and then I’d answer a week later with an equally as pungent or even better column. Then Rousseau would barricade himself in his office and come out with yet another one of his masterpieces. This went on for months until he wrote one that was so poignant, so dexterous, so moving that it blew my socks off. I don’t even recall what it was about – probably some tirade about the incompetency of the AMA – but in my mind it was genius and it would never be surpassed. So, I gave up and the rivalry ended and now I write for a software company and occasionally update this hack blog.
Let my story be a lesson for Chhewang Nima. He needs to strap on that oxygen mask and crampons so he can summit at least another 4 times and make this a real race. Somebody needs to be a worthy rival for that prima donna Appa and 15 times up the mountain just isn’t going to cut it. If you give up Chhewang Nima, you could very well end up giving guided tours of the Erie County Botanical Gardens in Buffalo, NY instead of guiding the rich up the South Col.
Or mabye Appa could be doping...
May 11, 2009
May 4, 2009
A couple weeks ago I got a bad haircut so in order to divert attention away from my pea head of bad hair, I stopped shaving my face. Due to the topic of facial hair, some old photos surfaced on Face Book (or as I like to call it, the Death of My Blog). Now that she's blown my cover, I'm going to uncover photographic evidence from the Great Mustache Ride of '07.
Exhibit A: Trevor, Joy, & me enjoy a drink (or ten) after the Great Mustache Ride of '07 at the Vault. Trevor, by the way, won the mustache growing competition. For his efforts he got shame and ridicule.
Since National Mustache Month is in November, the actual ride was cold. I remember snot running down my face and freezing to my pencil thin mustache. It thawed out and melted into my second post-ride pint. If you think this photo is creepy, it's because you never saw my beard.
This chick, we'll call her Sheena (extra credit to anyone understanding the reference), won the women's division. Her stache was made from the hair on her head. Pfff. Like I had to tell you that. For her efforts she got gawked at for the next few months. I suggested she grow a beard to divert attention from her head. She didn't think that was funny.
Exhibit A: Trevor, Joy, & me enjoy a drink (or ten) after the Great Mustache Ride of '07 at the Vault. Trevor, by the way, won the mustache growing competition. For his efforts he got shame and ridicule.
Since National Mustache Month is in November, the actual ride was cold. I remember snot running down my face and freezing to my pencil thin mustache. It thawed out and melted into my second post-ride pint. If you think this photo is creepy, it's because you never saw my beard.
This chick, we'll call her Sheena (extra credit to anyone understanding the reference), won the women's division. Her stache was made from the hair on her head. Pfff. Like I had to tell you that. For her efforts she got gawked at for the next few months. I suggested she grow a beard to divert attention from her head. She didn't think that was funny.On the night of the Great Mustache Ride of '07 I vowed that I would only honor National Mustache Month on odd years. That means this November I will once again throw my (red cowboy) hat into the ring and grow a mustache. Ew!
Apr 26, 2009
...and tomorrow is Monday.
Just got back from Santa Ynez for U.S. Cup #5. It was another rough one, but at least temps weren't near triple digits. It was windy and even a little cold at times instead. The Aussie, Sid Taberlay, stuck to us all again, but Aaron Olson and Andy Schultz kept him a little honest this time, or so I heard. I was too busy duking it out for another 15th place finish. Seems to be my magic number at the none ProXCT U.S. Cup races. I think if I could have gotten a better start, I may have been good for 12th place. But hey, 12th, 15th; what's the difference if it ain't a top 10.
Ryder and Denise came up with me this weekend. I got good feeds from D and it's always really cool to hear Ryder screaming, "Go Daddy!" as I ride by. The poor little dude roughed the elements for me this weekend with a cough, which eventually turned into an ear ache. I'm a horrible father for putting my kid through a weekend like that.
Next weekend is the Idyllwild Spring Challenge and then I finally get a well-deserved break. Actually, everyone deserves a break after riding the Spring Challenge. That's one helluva mountain bike race and with a thousand bucks going to the overall winner, you can bet it will be as fast as today's race.
I feel like a huge looser after this weekend and not because I finished 15th. Because I came home, yet again, with no photos and I didn't take a single drink of wine despite spending two days in wine country. Lame.
How about Andy Schleck at Liège-Bastogne-Liège? The Schlecks are insane. And how about the Dart finishing 4th at the World Cup in Germany this weekend after flatting on the first lap? The Dart is insane too.
I got a Blackberry Storm, but I'm having a hard time getting used to the touchscreen. It takes me twice as long to send a text than it used to, so if you're not recieving texts from me, don't take it personal.
Let's see, what esle do I have to bitch about tonight? It's 11:00 PM and I still haven't showered...
Ryder and Denise came up with me this weekend. I got good feeds from D and it's always really cool to hear Ryder screaming, "Go Daddy!" as I ride by. The poor little dude roughed the elements for me this weekend with a cough, which eventually turned into an ear ache. I'm a horrible father for putting my kid through a weekend like that.
Next weekend is the Idyllwild Spring Challenge and then I finally get a well-deserved break. Actually, everyone deserves a break after riding the Spring Challenge. That's one helluva mountain bike race and with a thousand bucks going to the overall winner, you can bet it will be as fast as today's race.
I feel like a huge looser after this weekend and not because I finished 15th. Because I came home, yet again, with no photos and I didn't take a single drink of wine despite spending two days in wine country. Lame.
How about Andy Schleck at Liège-Bastogne-Liège? The Schlecks are insane. And how about the Dart finishing 4th at the World Cup in Germany this weekend after flatting on the first lap? The Dart is insane too.
I got a Blackberry Storm, but I'm having a hard time getting used to the touchscreen. It takes me twice as long to send a text than it used to, so if you're not recieving texts from me, don't take it personal.
Let's see, what esle do I have to bitch about tonight? It's 11:00 PM and I still haven't showered...
Apr 21, 2009
I'll take mine on the rocks
Four years ago last night I drank an entire bottle of wine for dinner and I remember that because it was the night before Ryder was born. Yep, the little dude turned Brett Favre's number today and celebrated with a party at school and another party tonight at Jump Zone. You'd think packing a bunch of kids into a warehouse full of inflatable jumpers woule be a bad idea, but no one bones were broken, no one bled, and I only saw two or three dozen tears shed throughout the night. Unlike my trip up to Monterey last weekend, the party was a success.
I came home from Sea Otter with no good results, no photos, but more importantly, no poison oak or no speeding tickets. I limited my chances of getting poison oak by taking bum baths in the Laguna Seca restrooms with Technu soap. And I almost completely eliminated the chances of getting a speeding ticket by driving my gutless four-banger Mazda 5 to the race. Knock on wood.
Saturday's Short Track was your usual deal only with World Champ Christoph Sauser and World Xterra Triathlon World Champ, Conrad Stoltz. Oh, and the Dart was there too. If the Dart is there, you know it's going to hurt. So 70-some of us lined up for what has become known as Frosty's Arbitrary Short Track Pulling and guess what? Frosty didn't pull me! Some UCI official did instead. Anyway, Sauser, the Dart & Wells got away early on and turned it into a Specialized photo shoot until Sauser burped a tire and had to pull out. With a lap to go, Wells rode away from the Dart (you probably won't see that happen many more times) and took the win. I got to see it all because, as I mentioned before, I got pulled.
On Sunday temps heated up, so the race was cut down from 40 miles to 30, but it didn't really matter to me because I miscalculated the amount of time it would take me to do the first lap and the amount of liquid I would actually take in under dusty and hot conditions. It's not rocket science, but for some reason I came up with all the wrong answers and spent a good 30 minutes riding without any liquids. Rookie move.
The final nail in the coffin was when I got a water bottle in the neutral feed and when it came time to chuck my empty bottle, I got caught in the heat of battle (pun intended) and ditched the wrong bottle. I know, I know. It doesn't make any since to me either. Rookie move again. Instead of suffering heat stroke like a ton of other fools did, I pulled the plug after just 20 miles. Too bad too, because I think I was running about 60th in a 155-man field. Around a third of the men's field DNF'd, but that didn't include Sauser. The rainbow jersey won with a nice cushion. Meanwhile, the carnage out on the course was a sight for sore eyes - people puking (Wendy Simms!), passed out, crashing, walking out, and crying. Elite mountain bike racing is so rad.
Thanks to Shelly and Jesse for letting me crash on their hotel floor, Shelly's dad for buying me dinner one night, and to Joy and Garnet for putting up with my music on the drive home. One of the highlights of the weekend was getting to pre-ride with Country James Williams. Those were the days, weren't they Jimmy?
The funniest thing I heard all weekend was that after Alex Boone finished, he was covered in salt from head to toe. He told Joy that he was going to be making margaritas later. I was so thirsty, I would have drank one, or ten.
I came home from Sea Otter with no good results, no photos, but more importantly, no poison oak or no speeding tickets. I limited my chances of getting poison oak by taking bum baths in the Laguna Seca restrooms with Technu soap. And I almost completely eliminated the chances of getting a speeding ticket by driving my gutless four-banger Mazda 5 to the race. Knock on wood.
Saturday's Short Track was your usual deal only with World Champ Christoph Sauser and World Xterra Triathlon World Champ, Conrad Stoltz. Oh, and the Dart was there too. If the Dart is there, you know it's going to hurt. So 70-some of us lined up for what has become known as Frosty's Arbitrary Short Track Pulling and guess what? Frosty didn't pull me! Some UCI official did instead. Anyway, Sauser, the Dart & Wells got away early on and turned it into a Specialized photo shoot until Sauser burped a tire and had to pull out. With a lap to go, Wells rode away from the Dart (you probably won't see that happen many more times) and took the win. I got to see it all because, as I mentioned before, I got pulled.
On Sunday temps heated up, so the race was cut down from 40 miles to 30, but it didn't really matter to me because I miscalculated the amount of time it would take me to do the first lap and the amount of liquid I would actually take in under dusty and hot conditions. It's not rocket science, but for some reason I came up with all the wrong answers and spent a good 30 minutes riding without any liquids. Rookie move.
The final nail in the coffin was when I got a water bottle in the neutral feed and when it came time to chuck my empty bottle, I got caught in the heat of battle (pun intended) and ditched the wrong bottle. I know, I know. It doesn't make any since to me either. Rookie move again. Instead of suffering heat stroke like a ton of other fools did, I pulled the plug after just 20 miles. Too bad too, because I think I was running about 60th in a 155-man field. Around a third of the men's field DNF'd, but that didn't include Sauser. The rainbow jersey won with a nice cushion. Meanwhile, the carnage out on the course was a sight for sore eyes - people puking (Wendy Simms!), passed out, crashing, walking out, and crying. Elite mountain bike racing is so rad.
Thanks to Shelly and Jesse for letting me crash on their hotel floor, Shelly's dad for buying me dinner one night, and to Joy and Garnet for putting up with my music on the drive home. One of the highlights of the weekend was getting to pre-ride with Country James Williams. Those were the days, weren't they Jimmy?
The funniest thing I heard all weekend was that after Alex Boone finished, he was covered in salt from head to toe. He told Joy that he was going to be making margaritas later. I was so thirsty, I would have drank one, or ten.
Apr 15, 2009
Bruce Ogilvie 1952-2009
I first met Bruce Ogilvie around 1997, but believe me, I knew all about him long before we ever shook hands. As a kid growing up aboard Honda XR motorcycles in the desert, Bruce was a god to me. I wanted to be just like Bruce Ogilvie.
In 1998 when I was going to make a serious attempt at qualifying for the International Six Day Enduro (ISDE) in Australia, Bruce gave me a new XR250 to take to the Idaho and Washington Qualifiers. The only catch was I had to ride the bike virtually bone stock, but to help, Bruce sent out Johnny Campbell to test with me on multiple occassions so we could get the little Honda up-to-speed. As it turned out, it wasn't the XR that needed a power boost, it was me. But Bruce was just doing his job and I was honored that he was allowing me to help with the realiability and endurance testing of the bike. After my Pacific West Qualifier campaign, I let Bruce know the bike needed a much beefier clutch. He probably could have told me that I needed a much beefier riding style, but instead he took note of it and agreed.
In the years that followed I spent a lot of time sitting on the back of an un-marked white Honda box van with Bruce talking about racing and our favorite Mexican food joint in Riverside, Gay and Larry's. Bruce was a quiet guy, but something about him demanded respect, and it may sound vain, but I think I earned his respect somehow.
Days after the press launch of the new water-cooled XR650, Bruce gave me permission to ride the yet-to-be released motorcycle as the hare at the Dirt Diggers Winter Hare Scrambles. It was a big deal because the bike was a Honda and Honda didn't want any hiccups with a long anticipated model in front of hundreds and hundres of potential customers. Not long after that, Bruce got word that I was going to let Jim Rios at BRP fit the new XR650 with billet aluminum triple-clamps. I got a call from Bruce on that one. When you get a call from Bruce Ogilvie, you best take it and you best do what he says. In the end Jim and Bruce talked and the triple-clamps got Bruce's approval. Bruce had his eye on everything and somehow seemed to get everything handled.
My relationship with Bruce didn't change any when I went to work for Honda's PR and Ad agency. He didn't treat me like a vendor. He treated me as he always had. And when I left that positition, for a new world of life outside of the motorcycle industry, Bruce told me that I was always welcome at Honda. And those were the last words that I had with Bruce O. That put a lump in my throat then and puts an even bigger lump in my throat now.
Bruce O. was my hero.
In 1998 when I was going to make a serious attempt at qualifying for the International Six Day Enduro (ISDE) in Australia, Bruce gave me a new XR250 to take to the Idaho and Washington Qualifiers. The only catch was I had to ride the bike virtually bone stock, but to help, Bruce sent out Johnny Campbell to test with me on multiple occassions so we could get the little Honda up-to-speed. As it turned out, it wasn't the XR that needed a power boost, it was me. But Bruce was just doing his job and I was honored that he was allowing me to help with the realiability and endurance testing of the bike. After my Pacific West Qualifier campaign, I let Bruce know the bike needed a much beefier clutch. He probably could have told me that I needed a much beefier riding style, but instead he took note of it and agreed.
In the years that followed I spent a lot of time sitting on the back of an un-marked white Honda box van with Bruce talking about racing and our favorite Mexican food joint in Riverside, Gay and Larry's. Bruce was a quiet guy, but something about him demanded respect, and it may sound vain, but I think I earned his respect somehow.
Days after the press launch of the new water-cooled XR650, Bruce gave me permission to ride the yet-to-be released motorcycle as the hare at the Dirt Diggers Winter Hare Scrambles. It was a big deal because the bike was a Honda and Honda didn't want any hiccups with a long anticipated model in front of hundreds and hundres of potential customers. Not long after that, Bruce got word that I was going to let Jim Rios at BRP fit the new XR650 with billet aluminum triple-clamps. I got a call from Bruce on that one. When you get a call from Bruce Ogilvie, you best take it and you best do what he says. In the end Jim and Bruce talked and the triple-clamps got Bruce's approval. Bruce had his eye on everything and somehow seemed to get everything handled.
My relationship with Bruce didn't change any when I went to work for Honda's PR and Ad agency. He didn't treat me like a vendor. He treated me as he always had. And when I left that positition, for a new world of life outside of the motorcycle industry, Bruce told me that I was always welcome at Honda. And those were the last words that I had with Bruce O. That put a lump in my throat then and puts an even bigger lump in my throat now.
Bruce was a quiet badass.
Here's a slightly edited version of Honda's press release:
Bruce Ogilvie passed away on April 13, 2009 after a two-year battle with cancer. Ogilvie fought cancer the same way he raced motorcycles all his life: with everything he had.
Most enthusiasts know Bruce Ogilvie as a master Baja racer - a champion whose personal victories in the San Felipe 250, Baja 500 and Baja 1000 spread out over four decades. The first was a Baja 500 win in 1975, with another victory in the 1000 later that year. Bruce was the only man in history to win the Baja 1000 overall in four different decades. Bruce also earned three ISDE medals.
Bruce O's talents and accomplishments behind a handlebar are indisputable and well known. But there was another side to Ogilvie that was equally impressive. For more than 20 years, Bruce was in charge of coordinating Honda's racing efforts in Baja. He led an army of racers and support team members for years while he applied his own personal philosophy to the challenge.
In 1984, Bruce was hired full-time at American Honda. He served in many capacities over the years. In addition to being in charge of everything off-road at Honda - including motorcycle and ATV racing - Bruce was most recently the Senior Test Evaluator for Honda's Product Evaluation department. In this role, Bruce's contributions to the direction and development of all Honda's off-road and motocross products was unparalleled. If you can't imagine racing or riding anything but your Honda off-road motorcycle or ATV, it is because Bruce Ogilvie helped make it that way.
Godspeed Bruce. You will always be remembered as our leader with that calm, assuring voice in our head guiding us through obstacles you conquered long ago.
Bruce Ogilvie was born on April 4, 1952. He died on April 13, 2009. He is survived by his wife Marcia, his 14-year-old son Nick and nine-year-old daughter Isabella. Bruce's family will have a private service, and because blood transfusions were so important to Bruce's battle with cancer for the past two years the family has asked for people to donate blood in Bruce's honor.
Bruce O. was my hero.Apr 12, 2009
Thom Blaine
Thom Blaine passed away yesterday. I can't even begin to count how many hours the guy stood around in a hot (or sometimes freezing) and dirty feed zone for all of us.
It didn't occur to me until last night that Thom was selfless.
When Thom wasn't handing me bottles in the feed zone, he was handing me beer bottles back at the car after the race. It was quality beer too - none of that light beer junk. That in itself speaks volumes about the man.
It didn't occur to me until last night that Thom was selfless.
When Thom wasn't handing me bottles in the feed zone, he was handing me beer bottles back at the car after the race. It was quality beer too - none of that light beer junk. That in itself speaks volumes about the man.
Apr 10, 2009
Things are happening
Stijn Devolder thinks he can do the Flanders-Roubaix double?
Stoner fastest in Qatar?
I made and stayed in the break at crit?
Manning drunk dialed Turner from Flanders?
Ben is going to follow Locke's lead?
What?
What is the world coming to?
Stoner fastest in Qatar?
I made and stayed in the break at crit?
Manning drunk dialed Turner from Flanders?
Ben is going to follow Locke's lead?
What?
What is the world coming to?
Apr 6, 2009
Apr 2, 2009
I'm going to give it a go
Previously on Lost…
Isn’t that lawyer the dad from My So Called Life?
That’s a crime burning up a perfectly good Volkswagen bus like that.
Sayid is rad.
Now, on to tonight’s episode.
VW buses make great ambulances.
How could anyone follow directions from a guy Horace? How could anyone name their child Horace?
Jack’s trying to take charge again. Just can’t leave well enough alone, can you Jack?
Now Ben’s drunkard dad is going to hit on Kate. Get in line Roger.
“That’s my kid.” – Roger Linus after seeing a young Ben Linus with a bullet wound. That’ll sober you up.
Now we’re back to the present with Kate and Aaron.
Cassidy is back! You know, the same floozy that Sawyer conned out of thousands before coming to the island. He couldn’t have conned her out of too much because Cassidy lives in a beautiful stucco box track home now and is raising Sawyer’s illegitimate daughter.
Take care of my illegitimate daughter!? That’s the big secret that Sawyer told Kate before jumping out of the helicopter? Big deal! What a disappointment.
Cassidy is smarter than she looks.
What do you want to bet that Kate leaves Aaron with Cassidy before she comes back to the island?
Horace needs a haircut. So does LaFluer, or Sawyer or James, or whatever he calls himself now.
Relax Roger. Have a Dharma Beer (or 12).
“Sawyer is just doing his job Jack.” – Kate. Freckles is already back to defending Sawyer.
I think Hurley wants to eat his own hand.
Decision time Jack! Save little Ben Linus’ life or let him bleed to death.
“Then he dies.” - Jack Shepherd. That’s brutal Jack.
Damn, a commercial.
Okay, we’re back on.
I’m beginning to dislike Kate as every minute passes. So is Jack now that Juliet is back in the picture. I don’t blame him.
Roger just interrupted Kate and Juliet’s conversation about Kate once being engaged to Jack. I’m beginning to like Roger.
“Roger, have a seat.” – Juliet. She can tell me what to do any day. However, what she should have said is, “Roger, have a Dharma beer (or 12)." That’s more like it.
Little Ben is still alive. His sucking chest wound hasn’t killed him yet.
Where did they get a Dharma jumpsuit big enough to fit Hurley? BTW, Hurley needs a haircut too. The island obviously needs a good barber.
Shoot him Hurley! Shoot him! Then you can eat him.
Don’t tell me Hurley is becoming the brains behind this operation.
Now Roger Linus is hitting on Juliet. I like your style Roger. Have a Dharma beer (or 12).
“Maybe there is something they (the “Others”) can do.” – Juliet. Does that mean Kate is going to take little Ben to the never-aging prince of the eyeliner?
Back to 2008 at the Marina in Los Angeles. Damn, we’ve only seen this scene like 10 times since this season started.
Of course he wants chocolate milk you amateur mother. What kid doesn’t? Hell, even I want chocolate milk.
Oh, he wants a juice box instead. I didn’t see that coming.
Aaron is lost! No pun intended. Way to keep an eye on your non-child Kate. That used to happen to me at FedCo all the time. I was always wondering off and getting lost.
False alarm. She’s got Aaron back. My God, that blonde is ugly. Is that Claire? Who was that chick?
Commercial. Carl’s Junior commercials are the worst. Nobody likes getting food all over their face when they’re eating.
We’re back on.
I knew it! Kate is going to leave Aaron with Cassidy! I’m good.
But I don’t trust this Cassidy broad any further than I can throw her.
Back to the island.
And now, a moment with Kate and Sawyer. Who cares?
Where’s Desmond? I miss Desmond.
Juliet and Jack are having a standoff in the bathroom. Take her Jack! Take her! Undress her and pull her intro the shower with you. Actually, she doesn’t seem to be in the mood.
“We didn’t need saving. We’ve been here for 3 years. You came back here for you.” – Juliet to Jack. She’s right you’re a selfish bastard Jack. Grow a beard, take some pills, and go jump off a bridge for real this time.
Back to a moment with Kate and Sawyer. Yawn.
Where’s Sayid? I could sure use some of Sayid and his killer instincts right about now.
This show is turning into a damn love story.
Thank God! The “Others” have come to our rescue with guns to interrupt a moment with Kate and Sawyer. Now I’m wide awake.
Back to L.A.
Kate is at the hotel room of Claire’s mother! Could I have been wrong? Does this mean Kate is going to leave Aaron with Claire’s mom? Kate is spilling the beans all over town.
There’s too much Kate in this episode. Show us more Juliet. We want Juliet! Remember when Juliet did that bedroom scene with Goodwin, because I do?
Yep, Kate is leaving Aaron with Claire’s mother. It’s official. Kate is lame. And I was wrong.
Richard Alpert is back! Or is that Dick Clark? I know a guy named Richard Albert. He crashed once over by the airport and knocked himself out cold. It was ugly.
Okay back to the show. Little Ben Linus looks like he’s wearing a tube top, but it’s just a bandage.
“… and his innocence will be gone.” – Richard Alpert about Ben. Wrong Richard! His innocence was gone when he stole his father’s keys and let Sayid out of the clink.
“If Charles finds out…” What? Would that be one Charles Whitmore? The plot thickens.
Now we’re back to adult Ben in the present on the island, which means either little Ben lives or… I’m so confused.
Adult Ben is waking up, but someone is there with him. Who could it be? Holy cow, it’s Locke! That’s worse than waking up next to a horse head.
“Hello Ben. Welcome back to the land of the living.” – John Locke.
The End.
This show is stressful. And documenting it like this was a lot of work. I’m never doing this again. I can’t wait to read the real Lost Diary this morning.
Isn’t that lawyer the dad from My So Called Life?
That’s a crime burning up a perfectly good Volkswagen bus like that.
Sayid is rad.
Now, on to tonight’s episode.
VW buses make great ambulances.
How could anyone follow directions from a guy Horace? How could anyone name their child Horace?
Jack’s trying to take charge again. Just can’t leave well enough alone, can you Jack?
Now Ben’s drunkard dad is going to hit on Kate. Get in line Roger.
“That’s my kid.” – Roger Linus after seeing a young Ben Linus with a bullet wound. That’ll sober you up.
Now we’re back to the present with Kate and Aaron.
Cassidy is back! You know, the same floozy that Sawyer conned out of thousands before coming to the island. He couldn’t have conned her out of too much because Cassidy lives in a beautiful stucco box track home now and is raising Sawyer’s illegitimate daughter.
Take care of my illegitimate daughter!? That’s the big secret that Sawyer told Kate before jumping out of the helicopter? Big deal! What a disappointment.
Cassidy is smarter than she looks.
What do you want to bet that Kate leaves Aaron with Cassidy before she comes back to the island?
Horace needs a haircut. So does LaFluer, or Sawyer or James, or whatever he calls himself now.
Relax Roger. Have a Dharma Beer (or 12).
“Sawyer is just doing his job Jack.” – Kate. Freckles is already back to defending Sawyer.
I think Hurley wants to eat his own hand.
Decision time Jack! Save little Ben Linus’ life or let him bleed to death.
“Then he dies.” - Jack Shepherd. That’s brutal Jack.
Damn, a commercial.
Okay, we’re back on.
I’m beginning to dislike Kate as every minute passes. So is Jack now that Juliet is back in the picture. I don’t blame him.
Roger just interrupted Kate and Juliet’s conversation about Kate once being engaged to Jack. I’m beginning to like Roger.
“Roger, have a seat.” – Juliet. She can tell me what to do any day. However, what she should have said is, “Roger, have a Dharma beer (or 12)." That’s more like it.
Little Ben is still alive. His sucking chest wound hasn’t killed him yet.
Where did they get a Dharma jumpsuit big enough to fit Hurley? BTW, Hurley needs a haircut too. The island obviously needs a good barber.
Shoot him Hurley! Shoot him! Then you can eat him.
Don’t tell me Hurley is becoming the brains behind this operation.
Now Roger Linus is hitting on Juliet. I like your style Roger. Have a Dharma beer (or 12).
“Maybe there is something they (the “Others”) can do.” – Juliet. Does that mean Kate is going to take little Ben to the never-aging prince of the eyeliner?
Back to 2008 at the Marina in Los Angeles. Damn, we’ve only seen this scene like 10 times since this season started.
Of course he wants chocolate milk you amateur mother. What kid doesn’t? Hell, even I want chocolate milk.
Oh, he wants a juice box instead. I didn’t see that coming.
Aaron is lost! No pun intended. Way to keep an eye on your non-child Kate. That used to happen to me at FedCo all the time. I was always wondering off and getting lost.
False alarm. She’s got Aaron back. My God, that blonde is ugly. Is that Claire? Who was that chick?
Commercial. Carl’s Junior commercials are the worst. Nobody likes getting food all over their face when they’re eating.
We’re back on.
I knew it! Kate is going to leave Aaron with Cassidy! I’m good.
But I don’t trust this Cassidy broad any further than I can throw her.
Back to the island.
And now, a moment with Kate and Sawyer. Who cares?
Where’s Desmond? I miss Desmond.
Juliet and Jack are having a standoff in the bathroom. Take her Jack! Take her! Undress her and pull her intro the shower with you. Actually, she doesn’t seem to be in the mood.
“We didn’t need saving. We’ve been here for 3 years. You came back here for you.” – Juliet to Jack. She’s right you’re a selfish bastard Jack. Grow a beard, take some pills, and go jump off a bridge for real this time.
Back to a moment with Kate and Sawyer. Yawn.
Where’s Sayid? I could sure use some of Sayid and his killer instincts right about now.
This show is turning into a damn love story.
Thank God! The “Others” have come to our rescue with guns to interrupt a moment with Kate and Sawyer. Now I’m wide awake.
Back to L.A.
Kate is at the hotel room of Claire’s mother! Could I have been wrong? Does this mean Kate is going to leave Aaron with Claire’s mom? Kate is spilling the beans all over town.
There’s too much Kate in this episode. Show us more Juliet. We want Juliet! Remember when Juliet did that bedroom scene with Goodwin, because I do?
Yep, Kate is leaving Aaron with Claire’s mother. It’s official. Kate is lame. And I was wrong.
Richard Alpert is back! Or is that Dick Clark? I know a guy named Richard Albert. He crashed once over by the airport and knocked himself out cold. It was ugly.
Okay back to the show. Little Ben Linus looks like he’s wearing a tube top, but it’s just a bandage.
“… and his innocence will be gone.” – Richard Alpert about Ben. Wrong Richard! His innocence was gone when he stole his father’s keys and let Sayid out of the clink.
“If Charles finds out…” What? Would that be one Charles Whitmore? The plot thickens.
Now we’re back to adult Ben in the present on the island, which means either little Ben lives or… I’m so confused.
Adult Ben is waking up, but someone is there with him. Who could it be? Holy cow, it’s Locke! That’s worse than waking up next to a horse head.
“Hello Ben. Welcome back to the land of the living.” – John Locke.
The End.
This show is stressful. And documenting it like this was a lot of work. I’m never doing this again. I can’t wait to read the real Lost Diary this morning.
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