Thick Head

I don't know how it got me, but man, Juancho is ill. Not so sick that I can't get out of bed, just sick enough to wish I was back in bed. It might have been sparked by standing around in the rain on Saturday, eating crawdads like I was going to find a pearl inside one and slurping rum in celebration of a friend attaining her PhD.

Maybe it is the Southwest Florida condo cooties?

I'm going to try to throw a saddle on Trigger and ride it out of me later today, but I just don't know.

I need to rest anyway since Mystery the Untameable Stallion aka Cupcake and I are heading north for our annual Spring adventure on Saturday. Being lost and miserable on rock or trail is exhausting and I can't afford to be sick when I'm scavenging for grub worms and building a shelter out of wilted rhododendrons.

Got to run, I taste a loogie coming on...

Juancho

Mulberry Tree

I laid Bird out on a cold marble slab of Chess death last night, taking advantage of him in a compromised state brought about by a touch of food poisoning. I tried to make gracious excuses for him, but he quoted former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld to me and said, "You go to war with the army you have, not the army you want."

And so you do.

I didn't grow up with Mulberry trees, and I still don't fully appreciate them as food. They drop their berries all over the porch, the car, everything- and I just watch them fall-detached like I am watching a television show about dropping mulberries.

Last week the boys were popping them in their mouths and remarking on the little red hairs growing from between their nodules of berry meat. It turned out those were the peeking legs of clover mites nestled deep within the folds of the Mulberries. This did nothing to improve my relationship with the Mulberry.

It seems ridiculous though, in this time of greater awareness of our food and where it comes from, to eschew the fruit that falls in your lap in favor of the bunched and bundled bounty of the grocery store- those Clementine oranges are just so appealing in their crates.

Standing underneath the Mulberry tree last night, I thought to myself, "Any day now I'm going to give one of those things a tug and pop it in my mouth."

-because it's a shame to watch fruit rot off the vine.

-Juancho

Fill in the Blank

I will be away for a few days this week. I hate to leave the circus untended, as the animals can really stink up the place, but I have a solution. The following is a template that should work for just about any given day here at the BRC, so check back and apply the necessary details as you see fit.

____________ said he did ___________ in ____________ minutes but I don't believe him. That crazy Sasquatch, we were riding the other day and he broke his ________ and I had to fix it with a ___________, then someone called the cops because he _____________.

I was going to ride today but instead I am _____________. If I had ridden I totally would have rolled those __________ out at ________.
Back in 19__, when mountain bikers were a lot tougher I used to ________ the __________ without a __________ in the rain. Nowadays everyone is soft.

This weekend there will be a __________ at the __________, but I'm not going because that thing is dumb.

Have a great ___________,

Juancho

Guess my age

No fair playing if you are my parents or otherwise related and already know my age. Here are some hints.

My first big concert event was the Prince, Purple Rain tour and I was probably slightly too young to be there.

The first president I remember is Jimmy Carter.

The last president I remember liking is Jimmy Carter.

I doubt I ever rode in a baby seat in the car, more likely I rode standing up in the back seat.

Good luck!

Juancho

.
Thanks to Tommy Torso for a perfectly wretched ride yesterday, I really needed it. Golf out-scored riding 2 to 1 this week, and it ain't looking good for riding today either. Fore!

This weekend brings another powerhouse of cultural events to the greater Capital City area. We are lousy with culture once again. The Scottish Highland games will be be going on north of town. I went once with the best intentions of sampling my native culture, but I was a bit off put by the staggeringly expensive beers (perhaps it was the exchange rate from Midtown to Bannerman?)

There were men throwing sheep over bales of hay and dogs herding a squealing gang of children around a field, and yet, it was all somehow lacking. Still, in theory it sounds like a good time and might be worth the $147.00.

If that doesn't blow your kilt up, there will be an art show in the Parks downtown, also advertising a beer garden, or garten? I do like the art so you might find me down there sneering and sniffing at people's life's work. Good fun.

Tallahassee is hardly distinguishable from the Upper East Side (of Tampa) these days. Wine bars in the Strip Malls, Starbucks in the Target, I just hope it doesn't affect the price of Arugula.

Tomorrow the bikeposse crew (Worm, Wreckin' Ball, and their Zombie army) are riding sometime in the middle of the night like 8:30 A:M and then they will be sitting in a garage waiting for us to come crush them at Ping Pong. Other than that, are there any good rides on the docket? What about you out-of-towners, where will the fun be for you this weekend? Maybe I'll join you in Uzbekistan or wherever.

And what exactly is a "docket?"

Juancho

The Flashback Episode

From Bonanza to the Brady Bunch, Star Trek to Seinfeld, eventually you are going to get a flashback episode. It is a simple technique used to fill space when the writers go on strike or the budget is in the red. In this case, the writer has a lot of work to do so please enjoy this episode of...364 days ago at the BRC.





Yesterday on the trail I pulled a tick the size of a small dog- (I think it's a Pomeranian) off of myself. The poison ivy is flourishing and thick. The recent windstorm ripped the Live Oak Connector into a mess, and that trail is always a mess anyway. It was hot too, muggy I should say.

How do I know all of this? Easy! I rode my bike.

Not very far, not very fast, but hard and with conviction and this my friends is extremely disappointing to my friend Sasquatch, who seems to think mountain biking was a passing fad. The Rubik's Cube of last summer. The My Little Pony of last fall. Are we now supposed to move on and take up pole dancing? I hear that is the hottest thing going for the exercise-minded.

Not me ladies and gentleman. I am scrubbing down the elephants, sobering up the clowns, and whitewashing the big top in preparation for the Geatest Show on Dirt.

I'm just not sure where we will open the season this year.

Any ideas?

Juancho

Posted by juancho at 8:46 AM 5 comments Links to this post
Monday, April 16, 2007
And So it Goes

Some things never change. I'm still picking on Sasquatch. I have posion ivy all over my right shin, and I'm still waiting to start my big "Season."

Consistency helps me sleep at night.

-Juancho

The Worm turns...?

So Big Worm has a birthday and I have to learn about it on the internet, right beneath the article telling me that yet another hack starlet is knocked up. The indignity is too much to bear.

Who knows how old the guy is, it doesn't really matter. Big Worm is Evergreen. Big Worm is Elvis, Checkerboard Van's, and Chili with Frito's- never out of style.

Amidst the partisan bickering (which I hope I can claim some credit for fomenting) Big Worm just rides along. Road, Mountain, or Motorcycle, Cobra Kai or Danny-san, technical or longbow, the Worm stands ready to ride.

He is a bike saint in waiting, if only for all the repairs he has made to Wrecking Ball's bike on the trail.

He speaks ill of nobody, trounces the cocky, and recovers the strays.

I'm sorry, I'm getting a little choked up here...

Happy Birthday 'Worm, we hope its a good one.

-Juancho

Ground up

The call came far too early yesterday morning. After a late night watching Son Volt fans push their bangs out of their eyes and nod into their beers I could have slept until Tiger's tee time at 2:22.
Instead

I answered the phone to an excited Hambone,

"What's up? Where are we meeting? Are you ready? Are you the ringleader?"

No sir I am not the ringleader. I am a clown, so just let me crawl into the backseat of my tiny car and go back to sleep.

Instead I lurched into the man-o-tard and eventually (after a cup of coffee and three deep sighs) the streets of Tallahassee. The air was crisp as a Bartlett pear and before I knew it I was glad to be out and about.

Once we hit the park, playtime was over and the boys were pinning the rivet, or tossing the trivet, or something like that. They were going fast. It took my entire catalogue of shortcuts to make it to the end in view of the group.

Hence the delicious burger, because I'm cooked.

-Juancho

Round Up

I visited our new log friend yesterday out on the Fern Trail. I thought by going solo I could session it with no pressure- and possibly die unconscious, face down in the mud. After a pedal to the shin and handlebars to the groin I am just as scared as when I had not yet attempted it. This is going to be a summer of many trials, and perhaps some sort of reckoning.

That's OK though because it is time to scuff up your Chuck Taylors, untuck that flannel and meet me at the Son Volt show Saturday night at the Moon.

Are you White?
Over 30?
Tend Liberal?
Talk of road trips West over cans of PBR?

If so, chances are good you are a Son Volt fan. Ma and Pa Ingalls are hitching up the donkey team and double-wrapping the hardtack for a big adventure to the Capital City. They may have to bivouac along the Suwanee to let the donkeys rest, but they will make it in time. They never miss a Rendevous.



I can't talk, I'm a fan too you see.

Thank God someone out there is interpreting and romanticizing so many of the bad decisions my generation made and lamenting about the alarming decay of our national fiber.

I will have a chance to get my indie cred warmed up at a party tomorrow night celebrating a new book by a former professor of mine who was known about town as the "Barmadillo" back in the early nineties. He reviewed bars of course, and drew pictures of stick armadillos drinking in them. His career has since faltered, as he no longer gets paid to go to bars, but must travel the world and do uncomfortable things to be paid for his writing.

I will probably spill my drink on him.




The best formerly racist and currently gender-bigoted golf event in the world occurs this weekend. That's right, dust off the green jackets because it is time for the Master's. Say what you want cyclists, it is the Tour de France of golf and a great excuse to enjoy a social Sunday, after a ride of course.

So Spring is reaching critical mass around here, as every hour brings word of some watershed or seminal event this weekend.

Wait for it, here comes the closing line...

With weather like this, what isn't special?

Juancho

Separated at Birth?

Thanks Silky for the photo...I'm the one on the left, and that is Bigworm on the right.

-Juancho

We Can't Have Nothin' Nice

We can't have nothing nice in this town. All of the work involved to plan the first ever in the history of all time Big Bend Cycling Festival and it coincides with monsoon season. It has not rained like that since February 22nd, 2008.

The scene downtown was strange, like a selective virus had eliminated all but the cyclists in the Capital City. Aside from the homeless, the crowd was either racing, with a racer, or on a bike. Cyclists are social isolationists. Next year I think the FAMU Marching 100 could add some flair to the proceedings. I hear they work cheap.

Seeing the streets of downtown cleared for bike racing was an astonishing thrill, and I congratulate the parties that attended thankless bureacratic proceedings to make it so. The weather turned so sour in the afternoon with multiple tornado warnings, lime-green skies and changing barometric pressure that made your ears pop-the events were cancelled. I hope this brings to rest the argument that road bikers are made of anything but sugar.
Poor darlings.

I met fellow online hack, RickySilk, or someone claiming to be him. He lost his race by 1/1000 of a second. Quitters never win Ricky, and winners never quit. Next time buddy.

Bigworm was lounging on his Kona Crumpy surrounded by his posse of loyal subjects (they are like monkeys, ready to be shot into space!)
I wouldn't be surprised if one of that crew got a trophy.

Friday night our bikes were blessed in two languages by a priest, a shaman, and a random Jewish lady- which was nice-

No, I did not see them walk into a bar.

Joe, of Joe's Bike Shop fame, received a Bike Saint of the Year award and his acceptance speech appears below in full text.


"Thank you. This is great!"

The fixed gear kids milled around like sharks because they do not have the ability to coast, and when the vegan pizza came out- they took the analogy one step further and frenzied on that shit.

The road race in Quincy had a bizarre finish for the Juniors with someone winning with a bunny hop at the line. Not bad after 84 miles of putting the hammer down. A professional from Trinidad & Tobago won the pro race and I can't help but think of the Jamaican Bobsled Team on that note.

For those wondering where Trinidad and Tobago is located: find Brigadoon on a map, go North to Narnia, and look west.

For those wondering why the place has two names: I have no idea.

The Twilight trail is open for business, although I slept through the inaugural ride. Contrary to what I depict on this website I have ridden that trail more than most of you, so I accept my pass thank you. Now go out there and get lost like you're supposed to do.

The Robot Army drones returned from their North Carolina mission a bit soggy and rusty in the joints from a steady 55 degree mist. We prescribed a little Ping Pong therapy last night and they seem to be working fine.

And that, my friends, is all the news that's fit to print.

-Juancho

Kittens in Teacups

It is Friday everybody, unless you are in Australia, where it might already be Saturday. I feel too good and loose from last night's ride to bother fretting with you people, so please enjoy these two kittens happily ensconced in their cups, as some of you no doubt will be this weekend as well.

See you locals at the RR2 tonight.

Juancho

The Round-Up

Big times this weekend. Two of my favorite things are converging. That's right, peanut butter and marshmallow fluff! That's beside the point, I'm actually talking about Art and Bicycles. The First Friday Gallery Hop (I prefer to simply stroll it) will coincide with the blessing of the bikes and an outdoor movie festival hosted by Krank it Up, our local counter-cultural jihadi bike movement.

Saturday there will be tours and races and bikes, bikes, bikes downtown up to and including a beer tent. There will be roadies racing in the streets, undoubtedly banging elbows and yelling "Dude!" a lot. Sunday morning will see a menagerie of suckers lining up to get lost in the forest on the accursed twilight zone trail. I will pedal slowly in the back of the field muttering "I told you so" and scavenging for dropped loot.

On other fronts, a battle royale is brewing.



Maybe it won't be an adversarial conflict, but a convergence of talent. That's right, if you play your cards correctly you will be around in August to witness Uncle Todd Simmler and Pete "Huck Shins" Burchell loose in the streets. I predict that at any given time there will only be two out of four wheels touching the ground. Todd reports he is at the top of his game and he is coming back to pass out demerits to all of us who ever put a bike in a car or eat cheese.


Robot Army Update

Two riders will be launched to North Carolina today in order to take trail samples in preparation for upcoming races. The BRC wishes Torso and Bushy an excellent trip. Don't forget to bring the 10 survival essentials.

What were they again?

Juancho

Spritzer Season

It is 84 degrees in the Capital City today and that means it is time to crush some citrus, uncork the Franzia, and pour yourself a spritzer.

When I am not out there crushing the miles I like to unwind with a delightful white wine spritzer. To follow up on yesterday's excellent travelogue segment I must ask you: What food or beverages do you associate with time and place?

I can think of so many places I have been and how certain flavors and customs sanctify the moment of truly arriving "there."

Turkish coffee when Tim comes to town from Bosnia.
Young red wine on ice in Barcelona.
Lemonade at Chik-Fil-A.
Sharing a Corona Light with Mom.
Una chupita con Bighorn.
A pint of Guiness anywhere,

-and spritzers all summer long.

Aaaahhhhh, refreshing!

Juancho

Where Would You Go?

You have just woken up from a great night's sleep. You realize that life is short and the clock is ticking. You call in sick, cash in your 401k (whatever the hell that is) and you start packing.

Where exactly are you headed?

I'm still thinking myself.

-Juancho