*not NORBA sanctioned.

Anyway, so you think you’re fast?  Fancy yourself a ringer?  Hope you can aim a slingshot, because after each lap you’ll have to dismount your bike, grab a slingshot and nail an aluminum can from 6 meters with a small marble.  Good luck.

Dirtbags invade Starbucks.

Friend or Foe?

We arrived at the trailhead, embrocated our shorn legs, spun for 12 minutes on the trainers to some Kanye then got PUMPED  for some slingshot action.  Actually no, we just dumped out bikes on the ground and listened to Atomic’s Paul give us the day’s rundown: 10 laps, 10 kills.

"breathe between your heartbeats."

"Special Victims Unit"

I’m always torn at these events between participant or documenter-arian.  Race or report? Sprint or shoot?  Fortunately I don’t take my bike racing career too seriously, which allows me to attempt the best of both worlds here: I can place horribly in the standings, AND take mediocre photos with my smartphone while I’m supposed to be racing.

Starting line queueing up

GO!

All out, stay left.

Stop, drop, and draw...

Full release. (photo: Paul)

Grabbing the slingshot on the first lap was a harbinger of doom.  It became evident very quickly that I must have skipped the slingshot period of my youth and replaced it with taking pictures of the other neighborhood kids shooting slingshots. Five marbles in and no kill.  Now 6.  Then 7.  The shooting range became filled with random “BITCH!” or other colorful expletives, or with the sound of the successful riders shouting their racer number out and continuing on, post-plink.  But then I quickly discovered a secret!  Shouting random movie quotes before releasing the shot turned much better results.  ”Yippee ki yay. motherfucker.” BAM! Next lap!  ”I know what you’re thinking. ‘Did he fire six shots or only five?’ Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself.” POW!

Quotes aside, I still got my ass handed to me over the mostly flat, one mile loop.  A couple of quick climbs, some dicey rock gardens and some spun-out asphalt sections made up the quick course. “John” has been crushing the series so far, winning every race up until today, with most everyone hoping that the slingshot variable would throw a pump in his works and level the playing field.  Apparently “John” was a Navy SEAL sniper, as his Drop, Shoot, Kill routine destroyed the field once again, bringing him a 4 for 4 sweep. Unbelievable.

Post-race carnage & sights

Shot.

Yours truly, bringing the spicy.

The CBC returns in July. See you then -

http://www.atomiccycles.com/coaster.html

I finally got my ass in gear and built up my old 26″ Curtlo mountain bike, one that had been my primary singlespeed MTB in the early 2000′s before I got the 29er bug.  Most recently the Curtlo had been assigned to cargo-bike duty with an Xtracycle kit attached for grocery runs. A stop or two at Atomic for a complete new rear wheel and some necessary parts and I was in business.

6am Sunday morning is usually reserved for a pee-run to the bathroom then right back to bed.  Today it was a pee-run followed by turning lights on and getting dressed for the race.  At the start by 7, coffee’d up and ready to go I discreetly sized up my fellow racers.  Someone pointed to a fit looking guy, commenting “he won it last week.”  I paid the $20 for the 4-race season which covered my entry, a t-shirt and souvenir patch.  Such a deal!

The bikes at the start were all over the place, varying from complete pieces of shit, to amazing vintage cruisers with a few nicer custom builds thrown in.  But the majority of the bikes were worth less than the Chris King headset on my bike.  And yet I knew that this would be the last time I’d see most of the riders until the finish. Super.

We all gathered around, got the layout of the course, maps were handed out for those who wanted one and we were off, buzzing about a mile of pavement before seeing the road end and turn to dirt – the official start of the tough stuff.  It wasn’t long after this that my chain decided to drop off the gears, leaving me unable to pedal or brake.  I pulled over to tighten the chain tension and glanced up just in time to see the last of the riders disappearing down the trail.  I was now dead last with a broken bike.  SHIT!  I fixed the chain, rode a bit further and it dropped again.  I pulled off once more and dug out the tools again.  Fixed it and hopped back on, but now my head was messed with, confidence shot as I couldn’t rely on the chain to save my ass when I needed it: braking on the descents.  I baby’d the bike for a while, occasionally stopping to test the chain tension. Total mind-f*ck. Just a 1/4″ wide piece of chain can mean the difference between a carefree ride, the front of a tree trunk or the back of an ambulance.

I rode for several miles by myself, not seeing any other riders on the trail.  I had given in to a DFL finish (Dead F-ing Last) so I enjoyed the scenery and stopped to take pictures. The course had a ton of climbing and I rode as much of it as I could, but was forced to walk the steeper sections.  I was quickly reminded about the suffering smack-down that a singlespeed bike will give you when there is much climbing to do.  I was a lovely slobbering, snotty-nosed mess for all of the ascending we were put through.

And then It happened – I spotted another rider up ahead.  I dug deep and sped up, knowing that he was the difference between my name on the bottom of the list, and … not.  I caught him then spotted another ahead and repeated the effort.  I had caught and passed maybe 3 or 4 guys and started to feel much better about the day.  That was about the time I rode right through a switchback turn and down the side of the mountain, clipped into my pedals and completely unable to stop. I target-fixated on the rocks and brush down below and away I went, cartwheeling ass over ass-kettle, coming to a stop on my back with the bike above me, still clipped in to one pedal. I heard someone above me on the trail yelling “You ok man?”.  Fortunately I was ok and was able to laugh the whole thing off.  The concerned racer put his bike down and helped me and bike back up the hill to the trail.  I had a few scrapes and some bloodshed but nothing race-ending.  Back on the bike and back to the sketchy switchbacks, now paying much more attention to my braking.

We made it safely down the mountain and returned to the paved streets of upscale Calabasas, a bunch of dirty out of place cyclists contrasting nicely with the gated McMansions and country club guard shacks. Power-skidding to a stop at the finish, I realized that I had made up 7 or so spots to put me safely out of DFL range and I couldn’t be happier!  As I had suspected though, there were beater Huffys laying about that had long since finished.  After lots of post-race chatter and tales from the trail, my buddy Frank and I were on our way back home, in search of much needed food and beer, ultimately toasting each other for a great day out in the mountains with a great group of psychopaths on bicycles.

If you find yourself in L.A. in January or July, I highly recommend getting in touch with Atomic and trying out a race.  They also have several loaner bikes that they will provide if you don’t have one of your own.

For a photo slideshow of all the photos from the race, click here for my Flickr images.

Instead of just asking the tired request for an autograph or photo, we turned things around a bit by asking for a “group photo”.  Robin said ‘sure’ so I handed him my camera, showed him the button to push and I walked back to line up with my friends.

And at that moment, “Photo By:” was born.  Photo By: Robin Williams.

(pardon my mustache, I was in Portland so I was required to have it.)

We didn’t ask for a photo with Robin.  That was the end of it and we all walked on.  Which brings us to some of the rules of Photo By:

1. Never acknowledge their celebrity.  You are simply asking for a favor by having your photo taken.

2. No autographs or photos with or of your subject.  No “I loved you in Look Who’s Talking 6.”

3. Get in, get the shot, say ‘thanks’, and get out.

There was an extremely long hiatus in the Photo By: series for various mostly unknown reasons. Maybe I put it on the back burner, maybe I didn’t encounter too many celebs.  Regardless, its back now and I’ll keep updating my gallery as opportunity allows. And as far as my therapist and I have been able to determine, this isn’t an exercise in narcissism, more just an unorthodox way of interacting with people who get bugged for photos and autographs on a daily basis. With my technique they don’t have to be concerned with how they look, if they’re having a bad hair day, if they feel fat, or if they have that “fresh out of rehab” face.

Fast-forward to May of 2010 in Malibu, CA at a Starbucks stop along our 100+ mile ride up the coast to Santa Barbara.  We spotted Kevin Dillon aka Johnny Drama from Entourage sitting outside with some friends.  I asked him the scripted “Would you mind a group photo?”  and he jumped up and agreed.  However, before I could stop him he lined up with my riding buddies and posed for the photo he thought I was about to take.  “Sorry man” I told him, “I need you over here behind the camera.”

His friends hit the floor with laughter and I got a bunch of shit from Kevin, asking why I couldn’t have just asked anyone closer to us.  In the end he was a good sport and gave us what we wanted, and we got back on our bikes and continued onward, mission accomplished.

Photo By: Kevin Dillon

Shrine Auditorium in L.A. for an Arcade Fire show.  Photo By: Zach Galifianakis.

Private home. Los Angeles, CA.  This one was too easy and maybe cheating*, as I was at the party with him all night. But ultimately I asked him to take our photo just like everyone else.

Photo By: Larry Hagman

*see cheating: photo of me and my mother.

Largo Theater, L.A. Dec. 2010. Photo By: Jeff Goldblum

Christmas 2010. Photo By: Andy Garcia

comedian Doug Benson Valentine’s Night.

Summer 2011 Photo By: Jennifer Love Hewitt

Being an avid bike rider and part-time Pro cyclist stalker, I’ve found myself in a few situations that helped fill out the Photo By: gallery.

Photo By: Andy Schleck. Downtown L.A. 2011 ToC

Photo By: Chris Horner, after winning the 2011 Tour of CA

Photo By: Mark Cavendish 2010 Tour of CA

Photo By: Dave Zabriskie. 2010 Brentwood Gran Prix, CA

Photo By: George Hincapie. 2010 Interbike, Las Vegas.

Photo By: Jonathan Vaughters. (Vegas. don’t ask.)

More to come – stay tuned!

My friend Joe initiated the enrollment and I followed his lead, neither one of us being quite sure what we were getting ourselves into.  The entry fee runs $50-$75 per person depending on discounts that may be available and each participant is required to raise a minimum of $3000 to show up and ride.

Joe and I commenced fundraising and training for the average 80 mile days that we’d be faced with on the ride.  At some point during the decision-making process, I decided to push myself a little and commit to doing the ride on a fixed gear bicycle.  For the non-cyclist readers, that means there is only one gear on the bike, and it’s “fixed” in place, meaning the bike cannot coast.  So I would be pedaling the entire 545 mile route, including all of the descents.  My friend Mark Kiecker had done the AIDS ride on a fixed gear bike a few years ago, so I used him as my inspiration.

Fundraising had began slowly but surely. I had reached about $500 when things dried up and I had a mild panic attack. “What if that’s all I can raise?”.  I had reached out via mass email to friends & family, Facebook and online cycling forums.  Money was coming in but I still had a long way to go.  Fortunately the networking paid off and the big bucks started rolling in.  By the time the fundraising period had ended I had raised over $6000, twice the required amount.  If you donated to my ride and are reading this – thank you so much once again.

Joe and I traveled north to San Francisco the Friday before the ride departed, along with a few other friends from L.A.  Saturday was spent standing in line, signing waiver after waiver, and watching the mandatory safety video.  Turns out they frown on riding how we’re all used to riding in the city; assertively, taking a lane, etc.  Things were going to slow way down for the upcoming week.

The alarm clock came much too early at 3am Sunday morning.  We got dressed, finished packing our duffels one last time and headed downstairs to stand in line for the coaches that shuttled everyone to the Cow Palace in Daly City for the start.

Here’s a breakdown of the schedule for the week:
Day 1: San Francisco to Santa Cruz. 79 miles
Day 2: Santa Cruz to King City. 107 miles
Day 3: King City to Paso Robles. 67 miles
Day 4: Paso Robles to Santa Maria. 98 miles
Day 5: Santa Maria to Lompoc. 68 miles
Day 6: Lompoc to Ventura. 86 miles
Day 7: Ventura to Los Angeles. 62 miles

I won’t babble on and on with all the minutiae of 7 days on the road, but I will summarize with a few photos:

Weapon of choice – steel Bianchi cyclocross frame converted to fixed gear.  (gearing @ 44×16. 72 gear-inches)

A huge thank you to White Industries for their generous donation towards my ride.

Daily motivation:

I was also honoring Collin Marsh on this ride, who lost his battle with Leukemia in May of this year at the age of 2 years young.  Our online cycling community had followed Collin’s ups and downs via his father, and we were all totally devastated at the news of his passing.  RIP Collin.

Day 1: (no camera) Foggy & misty leaving San Francisco.  Lots of nervous energy, getting the feel for riding in a pack of 2000 strangers, all with varying degrees of fitness and cycling skills.  We got introduced to the themed rest stops and realized how well taken care of we would be for the week.  No shortage of food, water, electrolyte drinks, medical needs, etc.  All available within 15-20 mile distances at the most. Santa Cruz was the first introduction to camp life and figuring out the flow of getting your luggage, setting up your tent, showering, eating, and “quiet time” before bed.  No one who’s new to ALC knows what to do first, so there are many people wandering around camp with lost looks on their faces trying to find the shower trucks or dinner. Thanks to Wendy and Eric for dropping by camp to visit!

Day 2: Traffic Jam leaving Santa Cruz.

Day 2: Longest day on the road at 107 miles. Pictured is Lisa, also riding fixed. Tough girl.

And out of nowhere the Cookie Lady appears on the side of the road, having baked thousands of cookies for all the riders, preparing in April for the ride in June.

Day 3: Lunch stop in Bradley.  This one day alone is Bradley High School’s biggest source of revenue for the entire year.  2000 cyclists buying burgers, cookies, and snacks pays for a lot of supplies and equipment!

What would Rest Stop #4 be without a little Price is Right?

Day 4: The daily search for your tent and luggage at the fleet of gear trucks.

Half-way to L.A.!

Fueling up at Old West Cinnamon Rolls in Pismo Beach.  Calories?  You bet!

Back at camp, looks like someone found the coveted AC plug! (yes, some riders travel with power strips just for this reason).

Oh Shit! If its Day 5, it must be Red Dress Day (adopted from “Dress Red Day”)

Joe and I, ready for 68 miles of fabulous.

Yes these were ridden on the bike, and…

…yes they have cleats.

Cher the Road.

Day 6:  Ah yes, sunburnt and cranky setting in.  “Just take the f-ing picture.”

No shortage of snacks. Ever.

Free ice cream party in Santa Barbara.

Back to the grind; 101 Freeway South.

Done.

The candlelight vigil in Ventura is something not to be missed.  Thousands of people and thousands of candles on the beach in complete silence.  Very moving.

Day 7: The final day! L.A. was still over 60 miles away, but felt like it was right around the corner.  The last 10 miles into Brentwood were excruciating for me.

My buddy Ron came and met us for lunch at the Malibu rest stop.

And I had mom waiting to greet me at the finish line. Made it!!

I bought a plain white jersey and had it signed by as many of my sponsors as I could, and saved it for the last day in. A great way to wrap up a great ride.

For more info on the ride, or to donate to ALC, see:

http://www.aidslifecycle.org/

Leave it to the Langin’s – Bobby Sr. & Jr. and family to throw the mother of all bike events with their annual Langtown Cyclocross race held at their home in Thousand Oaks, CA. The bedroom community with ranch-style homes that would otherwise be just another Southern California neighborhood gets transformed for one day into Bike Racing and Beer Drinking HQ.

I discovered Langtown just last year and am eternally grateful that I managed to stumble upon this.  2010 however finds me on crutches with a bum knee from a roadie wreck, so I am relegated to non-racing status this year. Even still, on pain meds and crutches and the chance that I may twist my knee into even worse shape, I wouldn’t miss it for all the chai in Tina.

2009 Photos here

The races are open class; CX, MTB, BMX, gears, singlespeed, fixed… run what ya brung.  Register in the Langin’s garage, sign a waiver, get a number, drink a pre-race beer.

The first race is the “Elite” race, riders taking themselves and their results entirely too seriously with no sight of a beer hand-up.  Eyes on the prize as it were. They may indeed be in full costume on a singlespeed ‘cross bike, but there’s no denying the underlying feeling of competition.  Racers stage on the paved driveway that runs from the street along side the house to the backyard. The backyard that has been meticulously crafted into an amazing sweeping, pumping, jumping, step-upping dirt shortrack. Due to complaints from the neighbors about the shocking amount of mud that was strewn about the streets last year, this year’s event was dry and mud-free, saving most riders from stopping at the DIY carwash on the way home to uncover their bike’s true color from the layers of mud. I have to say honestly – the mud was missed this year.

The second race is where the shit hits the fan.  Four laps with a mandatory beer stop during each lap.  Cute red party cup full of beer, shotgun a can, or grab one of several pre-loaded beer bongs.  Your call. Gladly enabling your intoxication will be one of two beer wenches, serving up beer with a smile.  If you’re (un)lucky enough you may even get a beer handed to you that’s been spiked with tequila by none other than Langin Jr.  That realization will probably hit you just as you’re dismounting your bike to hump it up the steep climb up to the bridge that crosses the track.  Or perhaps you’ve already thrown up by now.

Stage 3: The Beer Mile.  A foot race around the neighborhood and dirt track with nary a bike in sight.  Stage yourself with a full can of beer on your head, drink it down then get to running!  This race is four laps as well, with four mandatory cans of beer being consumed in the duration.  If you’ve somehow managed to race all three races and are still standing, congratulations! You may find yourself on the podium for this year’s Langtown.  And you will probably find yourself in Bobby’s Azalea bush the next morning.

In between races, feel free to recover with your rendition of MJ’s “I Wanna Rock With You” on the karaoke machine, grill some fine meats on the red-hot grill or grab a cold one and chat up some of the many interesting people that are drawn to this event.

The race takes place only once a year. I whole-heartily recommend that you beg, borrow or steal your way to SoCal this time next year to participate.

Some images from 2010 (click to enlarge):

2010 Slideshow here

My weekly SmarterTravel email subscription then alerted me to a $95 round-trip special from L.A. to Monterey.  How could I pass that up?  Bought the ticket,  booked a taxi and packed a knapsack.

The rigid singlespeed equivalent of air travel.  You feel every bump, get tossed around and are pretty stoked you made it when its over.

Travel Tip #8: A name tag on your clothing that doesn’t match your ID will result in “interest” from the TSA folks. Twice.

I arrived in Monterey without a lift to the venue, so I asked the only guy I saw carrying a bike helmet if he wanted to share a cab to Sea Otter.  He replied that he already had a ride lined up, but I was welcome to join. Nice!  We waited outside for a minute until a Team GT dually pulled up.  Turns out he rides for GT. Turns out Pro Downhill. Turns out my ride is with Eric Carter.

Taxi!

We pulled right in to the GT booth in the pits and I wished him luck and hit the venue.  The weather was amazing this year; warm temps, no wind, no flash floods.

Then I spread out a map of the venue, got my camera gear in order, prioritized my list of vendors to see and got down to business.  First stop, Bike Mag.

Next stop: MTBR.com

Ran into my friend Cooper aka “flask-hog”.

Porta-Potty Still Life

Oh right – the bike stuff.  File these two under “Things I Can’t Do”:

File these under Neat Bike Stuff:

Titanium Salsa La Cruz CX in the pipeline

Serotta partnering with Catlike helmets to bring them to US by summer.

Crank Bros “Candy” pedal cages go alloy. Hot.

More hot from Crank Bros with their solid, clampless stems.

Custom fab’d Di2 shifter on a sub-16 pound Cannondale MTB.

This can’t be good.

Sexy Niner carbon singlespeed.

Continental 2.4″ Trail King, coming soon in 29er.  Beefy.

Amazing leather shoes from Dromarti.  The “Sportivo” model is SPD compatible!

Martin of Dromarti models the new black “Race” model. Look compatible and badass.

Can’t have nice shoes without nice socks.

In closing -

Five of us piled into the wagon and carpooled south from Los Angeles, saving the planet in the process.

Having attended the now 5 year old NAHBS, the San Diego show is obviously much smaller, but was actually originally only supposed to be the 5 or 6 local San Diego builders taking over an art gallery type of space for a weekend.  The show has become much more than that since the original concept, now with builders such as Stephen Bilenky flying out from Philadelphia, PA to exhibit. The amount of talent in one room was a sight to behold.

With tons of show coverage available online from the pros at sites like Roadbikereview.com, I decided to take a different angle of show coverage.  Below are some pics from Sunday.  Click links to see more on the builders.

Stephen Bilenky

Paul Sadoff of Rock Lobster

Custom rear dropout with opener from Santa Cruz’s Caletti Cycles

Bruce Gordon and his handmade ti lugs

Mauricio Rebolledo

Megan Dean of L.A.’s Moth Attack

Fred Cuthbert of Wolfhound

Mike DeSalvo

Baylis

Sean Walling of Soulcraft

The San Diego show will be back in 2011 and NAHBS will be in Austin, TX. Support your local framebuilder!

http://monkeylikeshiny.blogspot.com/2010/01/spinning-some-parts.html

Its gonna be a fun one to follow.  Not like anything I’ve seen, he’s seen, you’ve seen before.

1/21/10 Update:
http://monkeylikeshiny.blogspot.com/2010/01/she-is-half-done-jeff.html

Concert-goers were welcome to come and camp on the cemetery lawn (not on grave sites) with food & drink and stay up with the various media provided; Planet Earth video loops, background DJ music and a screening of the film Bottle Rocket at 2am. All for $25.

I packed the Xtracycle full of pillows, blankets, fleece, a thermos full of hot coffee and a bottle of Kahlua. We claimed our spot in front of the sound techs for a dead-center view and unpacked our take-out dinner at 1:00am.

The coffee helped as the fog settled in and dew began to coat everything with moisture. About halfway through the film, somewhere around 3am I passed out, surrounded by strangers.

Bedtime views

At around 5:30am I woke up to an unfamiliar sound.  They had brought in a group of Buddhist monks to chant a prayer for the living (us) and for the non (everyone else).  What a bizarre, fantastic way to enter the day.

Justin aka Bon Iver took the stage at 6 as billed. Still dark out. He eased into his set with a mellow tune or two but the mellowness didn’t last long. He then tore into the rest of his set list at full-amp with his 3 bandmates.  Electric guitars ripping, drums pounded. Wake up neighbors! Awesome.

I have reserved Space #3a on the Cooper living room floor for sleeping purposes. I have my road bike, fireproof topical gel, beer from Belgium, and requisite duffel bag full of my signature attire. Weekend is go!

Out for a little coastal spin with 20 of my closest bike-forum-screen-name-people I’ve never met-friends. (click on pics = big)

Rolling out

Heading inland into the redwoods

Back home and changed into proper party-wear with our host.

Let the games begin!

Cooper admires one of his creations

“Need a light?”

Alcohol and Fire go well together

Shit’s getting serious now. Westvleteren 12 from my luggage stash returning from Belgique

Reacharound

JB documents Mrs. Cooper’s burning ring of fire

Getting flamed

Mrs. Coop & Eddy

Nightfolk

Sunday welcomes a mellow brunch cruise down the street to the always excellent Harbor Cafe.

My posse’s getting big and my posse’s getting bigger.

Until next year….Happy trails