How Trish Saved Christmas

Compact Discs
Floor Pump
Gift Cards
Black Vest

These are some of the gifts given to me on Christmas, although two days before the holiday I nearly froze to death and almost didn’t get to give or receive a damn thing.

I believe that there is no suffering worse than the suffering from being cold so I checked Weather.com a day before meeting Tom Gardner in Joshua Tree. The Web site said ‘50s with winds 5-10 mph. I know some of you reading this are probably thinking, “You should have gone to WeatherUnderground.com.” And I say, why - so I have to waste 11 more keystrokes before finding out that the weather in JTree will be 55 with winds 8-11 mph? Do people actually go to WeatherUnderground.com because of its “underground” label and because they believe they’re getting some sort of insider information that the guys over at Weather.com aren’t privy to, or because WeatherUnderground.com actually has more precise climate info? I seriously doubt it’s the latter. I should start WeatherInsider.com or WeatherElite.com and see if “insider” and “elite” can outdo the nauseous popularity of “underground.”

Speaking of underground, Trevor has nothing to do with this story because while I was checking the weather, he was driving to Hollywood to hang out at a goth club. Now that’s underground.

Anyway, Weather.com says ‘50s with 5-10 mph. I can do that, so Eric, Joy, and I get up early drive to JTree and meet Tom and Blair at the visitor’s center. We were rolling by 10:00. The thing about JTree is that there is only water on the outskirts of the park, which is why we rode from the Yucca Valley/Joshua Tree entrance to Cottonwood, which is about 60 miles away near Interstate 10.

Now, as far as I can tell, here’s where I screwed myself on this Weather.com thing. The wind in Joshua Tree said 5-10 mph, but when you get on the other side of the national park and 60 miles away from the town of Joshua Tree, things can be drastically different. Things like the wind. I’ll try not to make this story any more long-winded (pun intended) than it needs to be, but the onset of Joy’s nagging stomach issue and strong wind made things slow-going. Things weren’t only windy and slow-going, but as the sun started to drop, things got cold. And when things get dark and cold, I get testy.

I hadn’t bothered to check the night temps on Weather.com or WeatherUndgergound.com because I hadn’t planned on going for a night ride.

No cell phone service. No lights. Little water and less food.

Remember the Saturday Night Live where Will Ferrell plays the character Terence Maddox and he can’t afford to buy his hepatitis medicine because he can’t sell his blood and he can’t sell his blood because he has hepatitis? Well, that’s kind of what happened to us, only Terence Maddox is much more funny than we are. We couldn’t ride fast to stay warm because Joy had stomach problems and we couldn’t ride slow because we were running out of daylight and it was getting colder.

We rode in the dark by moonlight until almost 6:00 when an angel driving a Ford F350 picked us up. It was Tom’s wife, Trish and that's how she saved Christmas.

The moral of the story? All the weather-related Web sites in the world will do you no good if you can’t afford to buy your hepatitis medicine because you can’t sell your blood and you can’t sell your blood because you have hepatitis. Or something like that.

Some Best & Worst of 2007

Best Ryder story: Towing him around at crit on Thursday nights. The actual act of towing the trailer at speed actually kind of sucks. It’ s like pulling a 50 pound parachute, but he loves it and he especially loves it when he gets to yell “Go Bikes!” as we get lapped.

Second best Ryder story: Taking him on It’s a Small World at Disneyland. I don’t know if I’ve ever witnessed more joy in his face. He’s ridden it an additional three times since then. Too bad the fatties are shutting down for a year.

Worst Ryder story: Leaving him at pre-school on his first day. It was going so well until we started to walk away.

Best mountain bike race: Firestone Walker, Santa Ynez NMBS – 4th Pro/Semi-pro Single-speed. I don’t consider fourth or fifth place a podium position because mountain bike racing is the only nancy-boy sport in the world that allows the third and fourth losers to share the limelight. Although, I did accept the giant Firestone Walker brewery mug for my efforts.

Worst mountain bike race: See 12-Hours of Temecula.

Best road race: CA State Championship – 5th, 30+. I initiated the break early in the race, but because I can’t sprint worth a damn, I only won enough money to buy lunch and drive home.

Worst road race: See Everest Challenge.

Best attempt at winning Everest Challenge: Even though the race ascends almost 30,000 feet in only two days, and even though I had never seen the race’s climbs, from the gun I went out hard and marked past Everest Challenge winners.

Worst attempt at winning Everest Challenge: Even though the race ascends almost 30,000 feet in only two days, and even though I had never seen the race’s climbs, from the gun I went out hard and marked past Everest Challenge winners. A smarter idea would have been to do a recon mission of the course, start conservative come race day, and actually put in the training required for an event of that magnitude.

Best attempt at winning the 12 Hours of Temecula: Even though my only prior attempt at winning the solo division in a 12-hour race ended early with heat exhaustion, from the gun I went out hard and fast and led for a while.

Worst attempt at winning the 12 Hours of Temecula: Even though my only prior attempt at winning the solo division in a 12-hour race ended early with heat exhaustion, from the gun I went out hard and fast and led for a while. A smarter idea would have been to go out slow and easy. It is a 12 hour race after all. What’s the hurry?

Best show: The Tossers, who played second fiddle to the Street Dogs at the Galaxy Theater. As expected, rad.

Worst show: The Street Dogs, who headlined the Tossers show at the Galaxy Theater. Brand new denim and Docs? Lame and so not punk rock.

Best drum solo: The dude with his drum set situated at the highest point of the Mt. Snow, VT race course. It’s a lot harder to keep up with the beat when you’re riding a single-speed, but nevertheless, it’s a very cool sound as it echoes through the forest.

Worst drum solo: The slow menacing drum beat I heard in my head as I was marched down the hallway and out the front door of K&N. Dead man walking.

Best place for a feed: On the road leading to Bishop’s South Lake as my mom hung out the window and did her best Johan to hand me much needed food and clothing.

Worst place for a feed: At the National Mountain Bike Series Finals in Snowmass, CO, it required a helicopter, a chairlift, or a week of travel to locate and then arrive at the feed station. Everything related to the NMBS is “behind the scenes,” including the spectators.

Worst short-track: NOVA’s twilight STX in Fountain Hills. Pavement and a rock-laden vacant lot with hairpin turns. Serious?

Best short-track: Mt. Snow STX, which I watched three sheets to the wind. I made a trip to win a Nat’l Single-speed XC Championship, and since that didn’t happen I turned to multiple bottles of Vermont’s finest. But what better way to watch a short track race?

Best crash: My text book low-side during the NOVA Super-D. It was a graceful and smooth slide that would have made Kenny Roberts proud.

Worst crash: Josh Bunz’s violent high-side at Raincross. Too ugly for words.

Here's to no crashes in 2008.

That's that.

The beautiful mistake that was the 12 Hours of Temecula.

I Feel Like Henry Hill

You know that scene in Goodfellas where Ray Liotta’s character has a busy day? That’s my life. Every day.

“I had a busy day. I had to drop guns off at Jimmy's to match some silencers he had. I had to pick up my brother at the hospital and pick up some stuff for Lois to fly down to some customers in Atlanta…

My Pittsburgh guys always wanted guns. Since I would see them in the afternoon I was pretty sure I'd get my money back…

My plan was to drop off my brother at the house and pick up Karen…

I was cooking dinner. I had to start braising the beef and veal shanks for the tomato sauce. It was Michael's favorite. I was making ziti with gravy, roasted peppers, string beans with olive oil, and beautiful cutlets that were cut just right that I was going to fry up as an appetizer. So I was home for about an hour. My plan was to start dinner early so I could unload the guns Jimmy didn't want. Then get the package for Lois to take to Atlanta later that night…

I asked my brother to watch the sauce and Karen and I started out…

I had to get home and get the package ready for Lois to take on her trip. I also had to get to Sandy's to give the package a whack with quinine. And I knew Sandy would get on my ass. I had cooking to finish, and I had to get Lois ready for her trip…

I got home and started cooking. I had a few hours before Lois' flight. I told my brother to watch the stove. All day long the poor guy's been watching helicopters and
tomato sauce. I had to drive over to Sandy's, mix the stuff, then get back to
the gravy…”

This is my life, only instead of guns and cocaine, its bikes, Accelerade, appointments, house chores, work, and family. As far as I know, you can’t get into the witness protection program for any of that. Something needs to get whacked. Maybe the house chores…