Dear God, last nights ride was really bad. Please, in the future, if you could never let me feel that way again, I promise I will try to be a better person. The part I really never want to feel never, ever, again , is the part where my mind and my legs are not connected, and that dizzy feeling that would not allow me to control my bike, that was bad. Also I never want to see Big Worm, Jim Slade, and Porn Stash, go by me that fast ever, ever, again. God, why would you let two guys with no skills drop me on wet rooty trails? I just don't understand. There I was in the valley of death, with a very serious fear of evil, and..... well you know the rest. Also could you wipe that snide smerk off of Big Worm's face?

Thanks for listening.

w.b.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Many of you young whipper snappers may not remember "Slade". They wrote "C'mon Feel The Noise" which was covered by the very lame hair band, "Quiet Riot". Big Jim Slade (the bands name sake) is the dark haired one in the back. He wrote all the hit songs. He was/is a very competent musician, and yet he relegated himself to the back. He believed he wasn't good enough to be up front. It is a problem that still haunts him on our rides....tragic. Humble? Yes. Shy? Maybe. Insecure? Well, he wasn't breast fed, and I think we all know the damage that can cause. It was a genetic twist (no pun) that his wet nurse had inverted nipples. It really sucked (pun) for Jim, but for his wet nurse, it was an occupational nightmare.

Sunday, Jim had a bad ride. Bad like Lincolns night at the Ford theatre. First, he rode off a cliff, and then he tried to see what would happen if he went into a corner real fast, locked his front brake, and turned the bars. After that, he had to lay down for a little bit. Later in the ride, he tried to kill Big Worm by throwing his body in front of him. Worm seemed to think it was funny, but the rest of our gentile crew was horrified. Darien got the vapors!

Now the back story is, we made a pre-spring trade for the Slade. We shipped off one of our MVP's to Cali (because he was an uncaring twit) and in return we got the kind, likable, Slade. Now our crew is a lot like the Mob. We decide who comes in, and there is only one way out DEATH! That, moving, or not riding with us anymore.

Now Slade had a bad outing, and this is to be expected in the pre-season. Call it jitters, jinx or something else that starts with J. Crash (no pun) said it best in Bull Durham; "You gotta a million dollar arm and a nickle brain!" Now that has nothing to do with Slade, but it's my favorite quote from the movie.

Slade, you will suit up tomorrow, and you will ride, because you are with us now! Lube your chain, straighten out that puss (no pun) and we'll see ya tomorrow! We know where you live!

By the way, "Slade's" other big hit?

"Run, Run, Away".

Not this time Jim!

W.B.Z.N.

Might As Well Jump

The hardest thing about surfing in Hawaii (for me) was getting in and out of the water. It could be the difference between a magical day or a trip to the hospital. I had surfed the North shore the year before. Now I found myself at the jump off spot on Maili Point, feeling as though I had never been in the water. For some reason, my whole year was coming to a head. I was in a band I hated, my father had died that winter, I had just married, and now I was unable to get in the water. Some big decisions had to be made and made now. The boys in the parking lot were starting to notice my lack of resolve. I felt the pressure of their stares and the clock ticking on my life. I was thinking of what I would say to my brothers, also surfers, if I backed out. I was thinking of what I would say to my wife, if I got into trouble out there. The reef in front of me rose and sank away again. I watched the the white water hiss up to the ledge and draw back. I put my cord in my teeth, so it wouldn't snag on the rocks, and on the next wave, I jumped.

Once in the water, I paddled hard to get off the ledge and followed some guys out to the point. The next two hours were a blur. I was in and out of position, I had to fight the current to get back into a safe take off zone. I caught a few waves in between the bigger sets. Then a huge set came through while I was too far in. I looked up and all I could see was a big Hawaiian looking down at me on the first wave. I hesitated to see if he was going right or left. When I finally paddled left, he angled toward me and I panicked, pushed my board away, and dove for the bottom. When we came up our boards were tangled by the cords. He was giving me the Nanakuli death stare so, I took my cord off, pushed my board away to free him and hopefully, stop the inevitable beating. He sat between me and my board until a wave came through and took it away. He told me I was dangerous, invited me to leave, and paddled off. There was a lull, so I swam to my board and went in.

When you do something that scares you, everyday stuff doesn't seem like that big a deal anymore. It could be a century bike ride, quitting a job, a bully, pick your poison. In the end you have an arrow in your quiver no one can take away.

W.B.Z.N.

Dude, That's Sick

The Worm is fighting off the plague, I hope he makes it. His denial may be stronger than mine. He's hitting the Zicam, like a bong before a Phish concert. The curse has swept through our ranks like, well... a plague. It started with M-dub, then B.D.S., and Ice Berg always has a cold. All I know is, our lines have been broken and our flag is danger of falling to the enemy. Moral is at an all time low. Our days, once filled with battle plans, lights on chargers, and heated debates about where and when we would ride.....distant memories all. When the Worm is out of commission, the troops lay down their arms and scatter to the winds.
I suppose if a virus can end WWI, it can open a can of whoop ass on a cycling crew and still get home in time for dinner.
I haven't been on a bike in five days.
He that hath no stomach for this fight , let him depart!
I will never forget you, my brothers in arms.
W.B.Z.N.

Sinop, Turkey

Guam

Okinawa