Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert

“The screen door opens and a pathway becomes clear
The smell and taste of yesterday… did I ever care?
The inevitable failure that fear haunts with success
The boy in the bubble…enabled or blessed?”

It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This

Two of the greatest skateboarders of all time "ripping" the Soul Bowl in Rio a couple of weeks ago. Christian Hosoi with his trademark rocket air, and Steve Caballero with a massive frontside air.

Mongo respects both of the guys immensely...skating talent aside.

Booty Sweat

Every serious road cyclist out there knows that there's no better feeling on your bike than to have your saddle dialed in properly.

Oh, you can have a professional fitting where measurements are taken, angles and positions are set, and money leaves your wallet, but true satisfaction only comes after a nightmarish, OCD obsession, manifesting itself in hundreds of micro-adjustments over an infinite period of time. Until finally...it's perfect!

Mongo affectionately calls this..."A little slice of Heaven." No matter what else is going on with your riding that day, ass problems won't be a factor.

Mongo's been rocking a Specialized Alias saddle for a couple of years. Once it got dialed in, I never had a problem with it. It was the perfect combination of a light race saddle with just enough padding. Then I crashed a couple of times, broke the saddle, repaired the saddle with electrical tape and Macgyver know-how, and eventually lost my "little slice of Heaven."

I've known for a while that I need a new saddle, but I haven't really wanted to drop a hundy on on a new Alias...with times being tough and all. So what did I do?

Mongo, as always, found himself a deal. Being a Masters cyclist, my prostate and my package are always a priority when choosing a saddle. For that reason, I am a lifetime Specialized user. Unfortunately, I am not made of money, so economics always play a factor in my cycling purchases.

I got myself a Specialized Phenom saddle.(Pictured above) It is based on the Toupe, but is marketed as a racing MTB saddle. It is lighter that the Alias, but with cro-mo rails versus the ti rails found on the Alias. The only way to make up for the weight is to remove practically all the padding. This sucker is hard as a rock. My butt hasn't been this uncomfortable since someone slipped me a mickey at Backstreets in '97.

Oh well. As a famous French philosopher once said..."If you ain't sufferin', you ain't cyclin'."

Where's Snuffleupagus?

"Our father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done. On earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; And forgive us our debts As we have forgiven our debtors; And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, And the power, And the glory, Forever....Amen."

Shredtastic

As the only action sports outlet on television, Fuel TV has to be all things to all people. Because of this, the message gets diluted and the product suffers.

That being said, there are a few gems to be found in this pile of rubble.

My second favorite show on Fuel, behind Drive, (W/ Mike Vah-la-lee. Not Va-lay-lee...for all you young punks out there) is Built To Shred.

Jeff King and his crew prove every week that any obstacle can be made skateable, and most importantly, fun.

Rocket Man

Mongo learned something new today. Team Katyusha, formerly Tinkoff Credit Systems, is named after a Russian mobile rocket launcher system.

Though it came to prominence during WWII against the Nazis, many modern versions of the Katyusha have been sold to, and used by, terrorist states and organizations.

I wonder if an American team could get away with calling themselves Team Enola Gay?

These Four Guys Are...

A: Just coming back from a Peace Corps mission in Somalia.

B: An under-nourished boy band from Brazil.

C: Members of the Spanish Olympic cycling team.

D: Freakin' starving.

You Da Man

Congratulations to "Shady" Brady Rogers...2008 State Cyclocross Champion in the Masters Division.

For an exciting action photo of Brady, click ... Here

The Tao

"To be a cyclist is to be a student of pain....at cycling's core lies pain, hard and bitter as the pit inside a juicy peach. It doesn't matter if you're sprinting for an Olympic medal, a town sign, a trailhead, or the rest stop with the homemade brownies. If you never confront pain, you're missing the essence of the sport. Without pain, there's no adversity. Without adversity, no challenge. Without challenge, no improvement. No improvement, no sense of accomplishment and no deep-down joy."

(Scott Martin)

The Bell Curve Through Life

Of the many benefits of Mongo's DIRECTV service, the Biorhythm Calculator has to rank right up there. As a child of the '70's, I remember well when this pseudo-science became as trendy as the Pet Rock and Abba.

Here's the deal...I don't necessarily believe in this crap, but... many times when I've had a particularly bad ride or done something really stupid or found myself getting over-emotional for no particular reason, when I check out my biorhythms for that day...my readings are in the toilet.

This has happened far too often for me to believe it's just a coincidence, but I feel like I'll lose some intellectual credibility if I buy into it.

Ouch

As time passes, I'm not so sure anymore how I feel about Floyd Landis. Either he got railroaded by WADA and the UCI, or he cheated outside the parameters of what would be considered "traditional" doping.

Either way, he and his new hip will be back early next year riding for the Continental team formerly known as Health Net-Maxxis.

Let's see what happens...

Move Over Rover

"Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race."
(H. G. Wells )

Rockstar

"No, you can't have any Cheetos...and you're blocking my sun."

You're Embarrassing The Team

The only way Vaughters could look more dorky would be if he was rocking the sweater-vest on top of the kit.

Running Like A Blade

“Live or pretend is the question I feel
What happens when truth is presented
Default to cynics or engage in the moment
Crossing the boundary into personal enlightenment”

If You Have To Wear A Name Tag...

Mongo's choice of riding attire during the Winter months has often been described as Unabomber-like...due to my propensity toward heavy jackets, balaclavas, large sunglasses, and of course, blowin' shit up!...Just kidding about the last part.

After Mongo's near death experience on Thursday, I sent myself to my room without cycling for a couple of days to think about what I had done. I emerged thankful, yet hungry, and deemed myself fit once again to ride.

I did 30 on the mt. bike yesterday when it was sub 50 degrees, and Ol' Lightnin' and I have some hill work to get in today.

Cyclocross Haiku

Fucking craziness

All of my shit got dirty

Which way to the car?

That's What I'm Talkin' About

I'm sure that there's some intelligent feminist statement being made here...But if you're looking to get around in Helsinki Finland, the vagina-bike-taxi is always an option...Made with monocoque construction.

Horseplay Leads To Tragedy

Mongo was going to write about me getting fat over the winter and the interval hill training I've been doing to try to combat the inevitable...but that all changed this evening.

The fact is, I came as close as I ever have in my life as a cyclist to being run over, and possibly killed. And here's the kicker...it was totally my fault.

It was dusk, I was wearing Oakleys, (I did have my "blinky" light on) and I was attempting to cross a four lane road with a median. As I waited at the stop sign, all the cars that passed me had their lights on. So when I looked left and saw no lights, I thought it was all clear...I was wrong.

Once again...it was getting dark, and my dumb ass was wearing sunglasses.

The black Cadillac CTS with tinted windows and it's lights off passed in front of me as I clipped in and put the first down stroke to the pedal. It was so close that I could feel the heat of the exhaust on my leg. I never saw him coming!

Those of us who feel we are skilled and experienced cyclists have a tendency to get overconfident and oblivious with our surroundings. Today, I almost paid dearly.

Though we are at the mercy of motorists when we enter their domain, we as cyclists need to make sure we are not only protecting ourselves, but not doing stupid shit like I did today.

SAFETY FIRST !!!

Dude Looks Like A Lady

This is a photo of Tammy Thomas taken in 2008. If you are not familiar with her face, it's probably because she looked a little different back in the day.

In the late '90's, Tammy was a track cyclist for the USA in the 500m and TT disciplines, and was quite a dominating force...then she got busted for elevated levels of testosterone and was banned for a year.

When she came off of her ban, nothing changed and she continued to win. Then she got busted for an outdated, "toxic" steroid...ultimately leading to her becoming the only cyclist ever to receive a lifetime ban from the sport.

Thomas was later caught up in the BALCO scandal, (remember Barry Bonds?) lied about her involvement, and was finally convicted of perjury. All of that leads me to this...

This is what Tammy Thomas looked like at the height of her cycling career.

Numb Belligerence

"Unless you try to do something beyond what you have already mastered, you will never grow."

(Ralph Waldo Emerson)

All Dressed Up With No One To Fight

Mongo was feeling good this morning and was itching for a smackdown. Well rested with strong legs, I was ready to take on the weekend warriors. Treks, Cervelos, Litespeeds, Colnagos...Whatever was biting, I had the bait.

I put on the team colors proudly, mounted up on Ol' Lightnin', and headed out into battle...and nothing happened!

In forty five miles of riding, I wasn't challenged once...Obviously my street cred is on the rise.

Stiff Upper Lip

Mongo got some international love recenly when he was given a mention on a British cycling blog. In the spirit of Bi-lateral cooperation, I will return the favor.

Check it out... Here

Oh No You Didn't

I am now absolutely convinced that the best is yet to come in the ongoing saga that is the "Mellow Johnny Comeback".

To say that the reception to the comeback from all corners of pro cycling has been mediocre at best, would actually be a knock on mediocrity.

Now, Mr. Vanilla Wheelsucker has thrown in his two shillings, and in general terms is very dismissive of the possible threat from MJ in the 2009 Tour.

Slow down mate...You better hope that MJ re-retires before the Tour. Because if he doesn't, and decides to go to France, you better believe he's coming prepared.

Que Cera, Cera!

A Fleeting Glimpse

"As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives".

(Henry David Thoreau)

You Want A Piece Of Me?

Though many of Mongo's exploits and adventures as a cyclist have been well chronicled, not only in this blog but in several sub-regional community free periodicals, what has not been revealed heretofore is Mongo's true prowess on a bicycle.

I am happy to announce that Mongo has been awarded the coveted #1 ranking in the Masters Division (w/o "Blinky" lights) by the Suburban Amateur Nighttime Highway Riders Association...I am very proud!

Shine On You Crazy Diamond

Yes...we can!

It's All About The Carve

Mongo, who has been suffering with a self-diagnosed case of Carbohydranucleosis, mainly due to ingesting sixteen chocolate chip bagels over the course of three days, layed down a monster shred on the Alva today.

LB and the Z-Boys would be proud.

Winning Is For Sandbaggers

It's no 12 Hours of Snowmass, but Mellow Johnny and an old guy named John Korioth win the coveted TTT at the Tour de Gruene. MJ also won the individual TT.

Please...have some dignity. Do you miss the attention that much?

Slappy Hour

Mongo has always been able to spot talent when he sees it. This came in handy for me when I was searching for fresh arms as a minor league scout for the Expos back in the early '90's.

My point is this...Chaz Ortiz wins the AST Dew Tour Cup in his first season as a professional...and he's fourteen years old...and Mongo predicted it.

This kid has some Rodney Mullen mojo. It might be all but over for P-Rod(who I like) and Sheckler.(who I don't)

Forty Acres On A Mule

Mongo worked on specific training with his heart rate monitor today. I focused on the range that would let me burn the most fat...accumulated from gas station honey buns, pizza, high-fructose weed, and Karmel Sutra ice cream.

Using a complicated formula involving actual math, it was determined that a HR between 125 and 140 was what I was looking for.

I rode forty miles in this range today, and out of respect for Mongo's kilogram shedding ride, no one challenged El Gordo.