i don’t want to be a hobo

we just got back from a weekend of bike racing followed by a bonus few- days-off-from-school camping trip. i think most folks that read this know we go camping & to races in our airstream motorhome.

i love our airstream. and i love my husband for being the driving force -both literally & figuratively behind it’s purchase and addition to our family. 

but it wasn’t always this way. in fact, when he first proposed the idea of it i was pretty convinced i had married the wrong guy. nice girls from darien, connecticut didn’t do rv’s. i wrote a fun little story about that a while back. read it. it’s a good one. i’ll wait.

that’s the thing about the airstream. it’s full of good stories.

just recently, i found a bunch of old pictures that reminded me of one of those good airstream stories. only, the thing about some of these stories is that they aren’t always ‘good’ while we are living them, cause many of them involve being broken down on the side of the road, and i usually have to drink a bottle of wine to make it through to the other side.

the airstream is old. way old. we’re just a few years away from historic vintage plates  seeing as its’ circa 1986 and 200K + miles.

we used to break down so often that we bought another car. a small, light car for the sole purpose of trailing behind the airstream. that 1971 car does have the dubious distinction of being officially ‘historic’  & as such needs a bunch of work. this is how we roll. old shit that needs a lotta work. like we have that kind of extra time on our hands. we call it the LEM. it has been our escape vehicle many times. the thing about the LEM though, is that it’s really only good for the emergency trip to the napa auto parts store for the 79 cent bolt that will save your vacation. it’s not good for going over 30 mph. 

i digress. but i’m trying to set the stage.

so we’re driving back east a few years ago – our oldest (now 13) may have been around 7 or 8 and we left kentucky the day after christmas to go visit family in connecticut.

all was well until we hit somewhere just outside youngstown, ohio that first night and around 11pm in the perfect twilight-zone-pitch-blackness, the water pump blew.

we coasted off an exit in east jesus and rolled into a gas station.               

i’m sure i was well into the wine by now and my husband went in to the station to explain the situation to mom & pop who said it was fine for us to park the night there.

we had to let the cops know when they knocked on our door at 3 am that mom and pop said it was ok.

the next day my husband took the LEM to a napa auto parts store to get a new pump. we moved the airstream across the street to a lovely spot so he could fix it and while he was under the airstream, the kids scootered in the parking lot and made ritz & cheese whiz sandwiches.

the fix took longer than expected & we had to stay another night in the parking lot of the ‘hot rod inn’. thank god for the LEM, the ruby tuesday a couple miles away and all that wine i packed.

the next day, my husband set about to finish the job he had started. i’ve blocked some bits out, but there’s a strong possibility i was being a nag about wanting to get the show on the road; and there was a lot of stress in the east jesus junkyard air and in a weak moment (and my husband never has weak moments) he accidentally poked a hole in the power steering and power brake pump with the tire iron he was using (and he has conceded this was stupid) to tighten the belts.

and we’re in for another night at the hot rod in parking lot.

the next morning, my husband drove the LEM back to napa auto parts to see a man about some new stuff, and naturally, it would have to be ordered and it was gonna take a while.

it was starting to look like we were gonna be in this parking lot for a while. and the kids were getting tired of card games in the airstream and scootering in the pot-holed parking lot and we were running out of cheez-whiz.

and my son was out in the pot-holed muddy parking lot in the same clothes he had been wearing for two days and all of a sudden he started to cry and he said “i don’t want to be a hobo”.

and i tried not to laugh and i explained that we still had a house back in kentucky and this stint at the junkyard was just temporary.

but i couldn’t help but wonder. and pour another glass of wine as we settled down for night number three after an afternoon and evening of trying to find a car rental place when we didn’t even know where we were. and this was way back in the day - before my snazzy 3G iphone and tomtoms and stuff.

on day three we found a car rental place not too far away – you might wonder why we had to rent a car what with that LEM we had with us; but this is where that previous reference to not being able to go over 30mph comes in. that, and the fact that it didn’t have the holding capacity for five homeless people, two dogs and all the stuff we were bringing back to connecticut for a belated family christmas.

so, we talk to the toothless manager of the junkyard hot rod parking lot and ask him how much he would charge us to leave the airstream in his lot for a week while we left to go celebrate a joyous holiday with our families. in their houses.

he said no charge. we wondered if it would still be there when we got back.we got our rental car and on the evening of day three stranded in east jesus, but not before the dog threw up in the rental car and flung her regurgitated food all over the kids; we were finally on our way to what had become an extremely short, belated christmas celebration in connecticut. which was lovely and joyous. and then we packed up the kids, the dogs and the rental car and headed back to east jesus with hopes that the airstream hadn’t been dismantled & sold for parts.

the airstream was still there, the parts were in and steven fixed everything. but not before celebrating new years’ eve as hobos in the street rod motors junkyard lot in east jesus ohio over some bad take out chinese food. these things make for fun family stories.

hey kids - remember when we were hobos?

i have seen the cyclocross light

sweet little tiny infant baby jesus i have seen the light. i get it now. i totally get it. i don’t have to be afraid anymore. truly a day for rejoicing.

i raced the first ‘cross race of the season today in the pouring rain and the mud and the off camber shit and mud and the rain and the mud. and last year i would have cried or dropped the f-bomb all day, but this year i totally loved it and had a blast. today, the ‘cross manifesto worked.and this is huge people. huge.

i got to the course late and barely eeked out a pre-ride on the (dry at the time) course. then instead of warming up any more (it was already puring by that point anyway) i watched the men’s 4 race where 3 out of 5 dudes did all variations on a theme of skidding out, 180’s, 360’s, and sliding under the yellow caution tape wall of doom; you name it - many did not make it down a very slippery downhill.

and then i lined up. with judi, who was doing her first ‘cross race ever (and by the way, rocked it) and she was asking me what in the hell i had gotten her into. and i didn’t really know cause i didn’t even always know why i did it, but i just hoped to hell she liked it; cause i was gonna feel really bad if she felt like i sometimes did at races, especially rainy muddy ones - all scared and sometimes wanting to cry before, during or when it was over.

they had call ups according to order of registration and out of 26 girls, i was number 24.

and then it was all just bunch of turns and crazy hard off camber ups and slippery downs and mud and rain and more mud and rain. and i moved up a couple of spots from my call up position, but not many.

i didn’t crash into or under the yellow caution tape wall of doom, but i did get stung by a bee and was convinced for half a lap that he was just stuck in my happy face sock stinging me over and over.

the course felt like the wide open prairie after riding singletrack for weeks on end. those trails taught me a thing or two about a thing or two.

i didn’t rock it or kick any ass out there today nor do i really care cause for me, today’s race was epic. in more ways than one.

bit of a ‘cross baptism i suppose what with all that water all over the place and stuff.

amen.

a cross manifesto of sorts

i’ve been dithering around since road season ended. i just didn’t want it to end. i’d be happy riding in a circle forever if i never had to get off my bike or worse - figure out how to get back on it. and don’t even mention sand pits.

anyhow. a while back i got tired of my schedule. and then i actually got tired of my road bike and there was a window of opportunity where i actually couldn’t wait to get on my ‘cross bike. which was good timing since ‘cross season is around the corner.

i figured it was time to maybe, i don’t know. practice.

so i jumped on it. the opportunity and the bike. and the two of us took to the trails. at first it was scary as shit. but now, its just fun as shit. i figured if me & the ‘cross bike can ride some kentucky singletrack, then a three meter wide ‘cross course isn’t gonna be as scary to us as it was last season.

i’ll let you know if this theory holds water. or mud. or sand.

sure, i’ve still got to figure out the whole remount thing and those pesky sandpits. evidently, my husband gave the whole damn town a kick ass and highly enlightening sand pit clinic which i missed. he assures me a private lesson.

i’m not gonna get sucked into the whole “i’m just here for the points” thing, or the promise of a wheel raffle entry if i do every damn race of the season. i’ve picked my races and i’m sticking to them.

and so mostly what i am saying here is that my goals for this ‘cross season are merely to suck less than last year and to have more fun - at both the sucking less and the ‘cross. it’s my hope that simply deciding to have more fun will automagically translate into sucking less.

so that’s it. i’m not really ‘training for ‘cross’. in fact, according to coach if i want a good road season i’m supposed to just be dithering around right now and having fun - which works out well, cause i want a good road season and dithering around is all i’ve been doing.

so there you have it. and you heard it here. i thought if i announced my intentions for the upcoming ‘cross season right here, out in the open for all to see – that' y’all could just remind me when i come off a course dropping the f bomb in front of small children and lovely women who have baked muffins for me and my airstream; about the mud or the course or the this or that -that i’m just here to have fun and roll some sweet knee socks.

remind me. please.

if you build it

you know the rest. but still. i was worried that even if we built it, gave it a go, did something new and tried it out; that they wouldn’t come.

one fairly recent summer night, a friend of mine, well schooled in the ways of event planning and race putting on and all that it entails; suggested putting on a women’s weekend race clinic.

i think, yeah! sweet. awesome idea. lets do it.

she talks about flying in a pro, and says words like clinic, registration, rides, races, usac, insurance, park fees, officials and a bunch of other stuff that made my eyes glaze over and excited me at the same time.

gulp. really? you mean we’re really gonna do this?

we checked the regional race calendar and contacted the pro to coordinate schedules and within days a date was picked and it was done.

yep. we’re doing it.

thus began my immersion into the world of bicycle racy event planning. it was a whirlwind of securing parks and venues, figuring out how to set up registration, contacting some awesome sponsors, grass-roots marketing, nail-biting, sleep losing and please-dear-god-i-hope-people sign-up-for-this-cause-it-could-really-be-awesome thoughts running through my head on a daily basis.

people signed up and it was indeed awesome.

nicola cranmer came to the ‘ville in support of women’s cycling, bike racing and grassroots efforts and to teach us a thing or two about racing our bikes and encouraging other women to race theirs. there was a full day of clinic discussions, breakfast, lunch, skills work, a long ride, a gelato stop and race course review. and the next day, there was a how to warm up like the pros clinic and on-the-spot racing instruction, primes, prizes and podium etiquette and there may have even been a little talent scouting.

the bikeclicks racer chicks were a diverse group of women in age and cycling experience, but all wanted to learn more about training, racing, and how to encourage more women to conquer their fears and line up at a race.

it’s a scary thing. to put on an event like this. to fly someone in, to hope people sign up to participate and support something that you believe in. it was a team effort all around; one that could not have been done without the sorts of folks who have done this sort of thing; without the incredibly cool companies that jumped at the chance to support the event, without partners to document the event & do all the dirty work of set ups & tear downs, drive pace cars, and sag wagons(yeah. that’s how we roll. we had a pace car. and let the records show that i thought webguy was having way too much fun in the pace car), but mostly it couldn’t have been done without nicola and the awesome women who came to the event.

so i’m super happy to say that the ‘shake-down’ inaugural clinic was a success. sure, we forgot pins for the race numbers and the gatorade mix was a little strong and the timing of the weekend may not have been ideal – but next year it’s going to be even better. we took notes.

nicola is coming back and she’s hoping to bring some of her hit squad along with her. 

we got a new dog

ya know. cause we’re kinda crazy like that. we already have a dog. and three kids. and work and websites and racing and just the general craziness of our life.

so of course, getting another dog totally makes sense. it’s just how we roll.

sometimes we’d joke, when our lives would get particularly hectic – that we should get a puppy or get pregnant. just to take the whole crazy up a notch.

we had been wanting a little dog for a while, but never really went officially looking for one. i figured when the time was right, we’d just sort of find the dog, or it would find us. or something like that.

the dog actually found judi first, and that’s how i found him and read about how he showed up on their doorstoop one day, and that they loved him, but that he needed to be with another family.

i thought perhaps this is it. the cosmic karma cyberspace way we’d find a dog. through bloggy friends. so, after a bunch of texts and emails and phone calls with judi; on my way up to mason, ohio for what i swear is my last road race of the season (really. i’m done. that’s it) - i visited ‘nani’ (named after giovanni ‘nani’ pinarello) and took him for a little get-to-know-ya walk that sealed the deal.

i picked him up the following day after my races and we headed back to louisville. i had lost sleep the night before – worried about the transition, worried about our dog mabel and hoping a new addition wouldn’t make her feel displaced or sad.  nani settled right into the seat and fell right asleep – as soon as i pulled off the highway, he woke up and poked his head out the window, and wagged his stubby little tail like he knew he was home.

he’s been here for 3 days now and it feels almost as if he’s been here all along, like this was just meant to be. the transition has been weirdly seamless. i expected some bumps. some random poops. some marking. some dog fighting over who’s in charge.

nothing.

i think he’s better behaved than our other dog. and i think our other dog, who is high energy and slightly crazy herself, has calmed down a bit. and her nose doesn’t appear bent out of shape at all. strangely enough, the introduction of a tiny little ten pound miniature pinscher has brought a certain calmness to the house. six walks a day and a big backyard for frolicking could have something to do with the doggie calmness too.  we don’t watch animal planet & the dog whisperer for the heck of it.

we’ve decided if he could talk it would be with an italian accent. he is  after all, named after an italian bike designer.

il benvenuto a casa, nani.