Paris-Rubiax - Mavic Behind The Scenes

A Touch Of Evil! -or- The Packaged Package

Got a package from the fart knockers over at Evil Cycling today. 

I excitedly opened the package and confirmed that it was indeed the jersey I ordered and not a pile of entrails or steaming poo, or any other type of pile for that matter. 

Why the rubber gloves you ask? The buttholes at Evil Cycling have a strict handling policy which they detail here, here, and here... and to rule out any confusion regarding their intentions, they said this and finally drove the point home here.

After unpacking the jersey it was off to the patented Cycle Jerk Centrifuge where any particles or wiffs of sackage will be removed before it's ready to wear.

I think it's rather fetching, brings out the black in my eyes.

A Cyclist's Guide To Impressing Your Coworkers

My first and only rule on how to impress coworkers in to occasionally take your work shoes home and forget them the next day.



Nothing says "I'm a take charge kind of guy" like wearing Specialized mountain bike shoes around the office.

Also, turning your office space into a shanty town doesn't hurt either.

Yep the next few rungs on the ole' corporate ladder just got a little closer.

Friday and I have not reached an agreement but will continue to negotiate.

Wrecked: Walking Speed Wipe Out

In my last post I mentioned that the LHT was out of commission and I would be commuting on my road bike for the time being. I've put thousands of miles on my road bike and have never come close to falling off... until this week.

I was waiting to cross over Georgia Ave. on Forest Glen and if timed right I can get across before traffic from the oncoming turning lane entered the intersection. When the opportunity arose I mashed down putting all my force into the pedals. I hadn't gotten past walking speed when on my second stroke the chain slipped off the ring and I was sent over the bars and onto my back in the middle of Georgia Ave. I was stunned, in less than two strokes I had managed to launch myself out of the saddle and over the bars. WTF?!

I rolled out of the fall, grabbed my bike and sprinted out of the intersection. Before I could make it to the sidewalk a gaggle of pedestrians had gathered to see if I was ok, which was cool. However I was still pretty shocked and trying to figure out what happened and if I damaged the bike. As people commiserated and recommended holistic solutions for cuts and scrapes I noticed I bashed the shit out of my shifters.

This combined with a rear blowout the next morning was enough to make me yearn for my LHT.

Maybe I can find some cheap replacement shifters at the Pedal Pushers Swap Meet in Eastern Market tomorrow.

Lastly, it's April 1st, 2011 and we all know what that means.

Happy Friday mother fuckers!