Bikes. Parts. Chaos.
Frostbike, the QBP open house thing, is in full swing, complete with a Tyr tri clothing fashion show. What? In spite of that, and in spite of the colder-than-a-witch's-tittie-in-a-brass-bra climate which descended upon our fair city one day before the event (from upper twenties to 10 below zero in a couple of days), everybody seems to be having a good time. The crue from Japan wanted to ride Pugsleys so we took them out friday morning. My ear lobe got frostbitten (peeling skin!!) but we saw a bald eagle by the river and the morning was just plain sunny and beautiful. And then last night was the latest BrauSovCor disaster of an event (and by disaster I mean success): The Get Fat In Winter Pugsley Thrillzilla race extravanganza. The six empty beer cans on my keyboard this morning, none of them mine, is an indication of the sort of event this turned out to be. Props to Christ, Zito! for being who he is and to BrauPow and The Meiser for wrestling. And to Bender for staying as long as he did, complaining the whole time about the cold and how soon he would be leaving, then staying for hours anyway. And to the people who rode through the fire, always as entertaining as it is stupid. And to Sovern, who despite being loud already, decided he needed a megaphone. Oh! I almost forgot the best part: in trying to get Mr. Tom Ritchey, Inventor of Mountain Biking (or was it Gary Fisher?), to come out and ride with the rest of the class, I gave him no quarter for excuses. Me: You gonna come out? It'll be fun, I promise. TR: No, it's too cold. Me: I brought extra sweaters. TR: Oh, I'd need long johns. Me: I have those. I brought extra. TR: It's cold. Me: I brought extra hats, gloves, even scarves. You'll be warm enough. C'mon, if you don't ride I don't know who you are anymore. TR: You have the messiest sty of a cube in this place, don't you? (this is probably true, and especially telling since I actually cleaned up quite a bit for the visiting dignitaries and various cycling luminaries) Yeah! I win! Also managed to alienate Hans Rey in similar fashion, and probably everybody else I came into contact with, but hey, there's a reason our name is SURLY, get it? Ok, gotta go be real at the remainder of the show. If you're here for it, thank you. It has truly been fun to hang out with you. If you're not here, you're missing out on some good fun and a whole lotta cold. Seacrest out. -----