Here’s my race number from Hood. Ahhh lucky number 13. Everyone’s favorite. I told myself that I’m not superstitious and that it therefore won’t have a negative effect on me. It seemed to work because I had a successful time in Oregon. Then right before the crit, one of the officials said to me, “Don’t you know that you’re supposed to wear 13 upsidedown?” Of course I know that! But I was in the midst of bunking this trend. Moreover, I was thinking, “Don’t you know that you’re supposed to fine me if I wear my number incorrectly?” No harm, no foul, no fine, and a good result. BAM!

We celebrated an excellent week in Hood River with a delicious BBQ, highlighted with tasty smores over an open fire… well, a screened in open fire, so the fire still leapt out. I frequently opt for the PUT-IT-IN-THE-FIRE-TIL-IT-CATCHES-ON-FIRE method with my marshmellows, and did the same on this occasion. Sadly for the first time ever, the smokey/charred flavor overpowered the delicious caramelized sugar so I left with a bitter taste in my mouth… literally. I guess that’s bound to happen when I’ve downed a dozen marshmellows. Lesson learned.

Otherwise, things were awesome in Hood! We had very good results (3rd and 4th on GC, 1st Team GC, Best Young Rider, yellow jersey for a day, and a 1st and 2nd on two stages), incredibly generous hosts who conveniently all lived within a stone’s throw of each other, a smorgasbord of food including something in the area of 36 chicken breasts, and remarkable weather that averaged in the mid 90s. A wicked scoa’cha!  Thankfully Graham-O and I shared a bedroom in the basement where the temperature hovered in the 50s. I think he put on his jacket when his teeth started chattering. I, on the other hand, basked in the cold since just standing upstairs put me into a sweat.

Among other highlights at our hosts’ house were the scooter and the almost-tandem bicycle. The scooter was a handsome steed that apparently hadn’t worked in many weeks. However with the mechanical prowess possessed by Graham (spinning the oil tank cap for no apparent reason) and Becca (pushing wires around randomly, also for no apparent reason), the scooter fired up with fury! It was very pleasant to go fetch lunch in the suffocating heat on the scooter.

Then there’s the almost-tandem bicycle. “Almost” because the person on the back doesn’t have handlebars nor pedals and doesn’t really offer anything to the person on front besides encouraging words of support and excessive weight. But she’s a beaut all the same, so Graham and I took her for a spin once or twice.

Bu’bye now.

Here are the NATION & WORLD headlines from the newspaper I picked up yesterday:
Number of Diabled Vets Increasing
Relief Boat Sinks
Chopper Crash Kills Pilot
Many Indian Farmers Commit Suicide
Coyote Attacks on the Rise
Thefts Rise With Copper Prices
Nepal Detains Protesters

…and so forth. And this doesn’t even include the recent attrocities in Myanmar, tornadoes in the southeast, and earthquake in China. Sure you get the idea that there is hardly any good news this day in age, but it’s just plain insane that this entire 10 page section honestly does not have a single piece of uplifting news! I just happened to make this observation while absorbing the irate travelers in the airport all around me. Seemingly everyone has a frown on their face and stomps around the airport angry at life.

Just today my teamates and I grabbed a quick lunch at Subway where they have a selection of five dollar footlong subs - keyword “selection”. That is, not all footlongs are just five bucks. However, the woman in front of us threw a tantrum because she was being charged a dollar-and-a-half more for her twelve inch sammy. You see, the sign specifically said which subs were five dollars and which were not. Her’s was clearly not. She even went as far as to leave without the sandwich and an aggressive bout of head shaking, exclaiming, “Well then I’m not paying for it!” Sure, we all got a kick out of it and weren’t quite sure why she was so up in arms about it, but that’s besides the point.

THE POINT IS that there’s too much bad news in the world today to be so angry! Moreover a smile, a thank you and corresponding please are enough to make a person’s day. In fact, I told the overworked Subway employee that they’re running a very efficient operation and gave him a very sincere “Have a nice day.”

So giddy up my loyal readers, put on a smile, and have a nice day!

The “Temple of Doom” is what I’ve nicknamed Scott and Garrett’s
hotel room. No further comment, although garrettpeltonen.missingsaddle.com might offer more details. Particularly pay attention to the comments.

The only thing better than winning my first NRC here in Arkansas at Joe Martin is winning it, finishing by noon, then watching the entire Indiana Jones trilogy on TV. Thanks USA Television Network for nine hours of viewing pleasure!

Indiana Jones is one BAMF. He’s a bit like McGiver but with a PhD and a pimp for a father. I mean seriously, the guy just took down a Nazi tank with a horse and his whip!

Good tough crit tomorrow. Wish me luck.

Oh yeah, a huge round of applause goes out to Slipstream for winning the Giro’s opening TTT. That’s phenomenal.

The timing of my last blog entry entitled “Bathroom Humor” and dealing
with poop (the non-bodily type) made me laugh since my college put out
a young alumni newsletter with a feature article about me as well as a
link to my blog. I immediately got a handful of emails from friends
whom I hadn’t spoken to in a while who were entertained that I spend
my time musing over bathroom-talk. LIVING THE DREAM!

So in order to raise the sophistication of my blog, this entry
pertains to gardening. Namely my new potted garden that’s located on
my front steps. I’m a vegetable gardener growing tomatoes, peppers
(red and hot), and basil. I have six plants in all and they’re green,
lush, and beautiful! They say that only smart people garden, so I
certainly agree with that statement.

…even if it means that I just made up that saying now.