A Perfect Day That Ends in Unspeakable Tragedy

07.16.2007 | 8:00 pm

Fate conspires. I am convinced this is true. The thing is, it usually conspires against us, to the point where we look askance at fate when it conspires for us. And yet, once in a while, fate lends a hand.

This past weekend, fate must’ve felt I was due.

Intervention 1
The plan for the weekend was that my family and I would be out of town. As it turns out, though, Thursday evening we decided Susan isn’t quite ready to travel.

Abracadabra: suddenly we had a free weekend at home.

And within moments, I had latched on to the Nebo Loop ride Kenny was planning. Saturday, 6:00am, starting at Kenny’s house. 6.5 hours of riding, 110 miles, one giant climb, one giant descent, a 40-mile paceline on lonely roads.

Seriously, there is no better possible hometown road epic in the world than the Nebo Loop.

Intervention 2
In short order, I pinged the rest of the core team to see if they could do the ride, too. Rick Sunderlage (not his real name) got an approval — no mean feat considering how late in the week this was coming together — but that was about it. Everyone else either was out of town, had a race they had committed to, or had other stuff going on.

And then Dug sent a text message. He was reversing himself; he was in.

This has never happened before. Ever. Over the course of 15 years of ride invites, I’ve learned: If Dug says he’s out, he’s out. It’s not negotiable. You can argue and try to work things out on his behalf, but it does no good. If Dug says he’s out, that’s final.

But here we were, nevertheless. Dug had said he was out. And now he was in.

“Kim says I need the miles,” was his simple explanation.

I did not pry further.

The Best of All Possible Riding Buddies
I’d like you to conduct an intellectual exercise. If you could put together a list of attributes that would make up the perfect riding buddy, what would they be?

I’d make this buddy male, first of all, because otherwise this list starts to sound like I’m writing a new verse to the “If You Like Pina Coladas” song. Next, I’d make this riding buddy highly available. And I’d make him just slightly faster than I am. I’d make him interesting, but not an incessant chatterbox on the road (after about half an hour of talking on the bike, I’m usually in the mood to shut up and ride).

You probably have other attributes you’d build in to your perfect riding buddy. Think about them for a moment.

Now let’s change things up for a second. Which would be the better riding buddy: the person you just dreamed up, or a strong rider / nice guy who also happens to own a Ben and Jerry’s franchise?

Yeah, me too.

And that, my friends, is Bill Freedman. Now, just in case you have a picture in your mind of a soft, lazy ice cream-eating schlub, let me point out: one year, Bill did the Leadville 100. Unfortunately, someone crashed into him within four miles of the beginning of the race, breaking one of his pedals and giving Bill an enormous case of road rash (and an entirely exposed butt cheek). Did Bill bail out of the race? Nope. He did the whole 100 miles anyway.

That’s one hardcore ice cream guy.

Anyway, courtesy of my totally non-subtle prodding, Bill volunteered that at the end of the ride, we’d stop at his shop for ice cream, his treat.

Since it was already hot by 7:00am and the high temperature for the day was slated to go to 102, I wholeheartedly endorsed Bill’s idea.

Clown of the Paceline
Drue and Larry rounded out the group, making seven of us — right at the sweet spot for a group road ride — large enough that you’ve got a good long break between turns pulling, and small enough that it doesn’t take forever to get the group rolling again once it’s stopped.

We got started right around 6:20 (just a few minutes late). We were doing the Nebo Loop a little different this time: counterclockwise. This meant we’d be doing the 40-mile flat section at the beginning of the ride — before the big climb — instead of after. It also meant we’d be going up the South side of Nebo, which only Larry had done before, but which we all agreed was going to be a steeper climb than going up the North side.

I was feeling good as the paceline got rolling. Not as good as Larry, I guess, because he kept rolling up to the front and pushing the pace. i didn’t mind, though. He wasn’t pushing it much, and we were all staying together really well.

I, on the other hand, was being a complete goofball. Any time there was a tiny hill or overpass, I’d jump out of the paceline and attack it hard, celebrating with a victory salute each time I rolled across first. I’m pretty sure everyone thought it was funny the first time I did it. The group might’ve even thought it was mildly amusing the second and third time I did it. I’m sure that by the fourth time, though, I was the only one who found myself entertaining.

I couldn’t help myself, though. I was in such a great mood that I was willing to try out the “incessant repetition” comedy gambit: the theory that any joke, repeated often enough, goes from funny to unfunny to — eventually — absurdly funny.

I am not sure that the gambit succeeded, but I was having fun anyway.

Attack on the Climb
We all stayed together up to the beginning of the climb, and even for a mile or two beyond. And then Rick started pushing the pace. This was no surprise since he had indicated, via instant message, the day before that he intended to drop me in the climb.

So I did the honorable thing: I grabbed his wheel and hunkered down. Dug and Larry grabbed on, too, seeing exactly how far the Sunderlage train would take us.

Kenny stayed back, riding with Bill and Drue. None of them had anything to prove.

Briefly, I thought to myself, “Hey, I should ride with Bill. After all, he’s the one who owns the ice cream store.” So I eased up, which must have looked like an early implosion to Rick, Dug, and Larry.

But I was not blown. In fact, I felt good. Real good.

As I got close to Bill, Kenny, and Drue, one of them shouted out, “Go at whatever pace you want. We’ll regroup at the top.” Kenny then started riding away from the group at the back, and would shortly catch me, tired legs from the Cascade Creampuff notwithstanding.

To me, that seemed like an invitation to test myself.

So I did some math, figured that I was fifteen miles from the summit, did a best guess as to how hard I could climb for fifteen miles, and then buried myself accordingly.

Before long, I was with Rick S, Dug, and Larry.

And then I was ahead of them.

And Kenny had not caught me.

Being fast up this climb had suddenly become important to me.

The Importance of 27
The climb up Mt. Nebo is difficult whether you go up the North side or South. The North side, however, has a near-non-finite number of false summits; it plays with your head like no other climb I’ve ever done (with the exception of the Powerline climb at Leadville, which is somehow even worse).

So while climbing up the South side was a steeper, more demanding cliimb, it was — from my point of view — paradoxically also an easier climb, because it doesn’t toy with you nearly as much.

As I climbed, I had time to think and look around. Here are some of the things I thought and observed:

  • I really like my 27 cog. Dug was riding on a borrowed bike with a 23-tooth cog in the back being his easiest gear. Since I was in my granny gear — 27 teeth — for most of the climb and still barely able to turn the cranks, I thought several times about how hard this ride must have been on Dug, especially since he had never done this ride at all before and so didn’t know when (or if) the climbing ends. As it turns out, Dug compensated for the 23 cog by serpentining whenever he was out of view of others.
  • Cows are big. At the very beginning of the climb, I saw a couple of cows tussling at the side of the road. As I got closer, they stopped and stood very still, eyeing me. To me, they seemed to be saying, “Hey, we should quit beating each other up and go attack that guy who smells of beef.” You know, of all the ways in the world there are to die, being attacked by cattle is probably pretty high up there in the “embarassing” zone.
  • Cows startle easily. At another point in the climb, I came across several cows in the middle of the road, lazily staring at me. I yelled and hollered (there is a difference between yelling and hollering, right?) and got them running ahead of me. I drove them forward until the next hairpin in the road, at which point I turned and they kept going straight. This may have been the most fun I have ever had on a road bike.

The Best Time to Check How You’re Doing Is at a Hairpin
Being the guy out front creates a dilemma. You want to know if anyone’s catching up to you, but you don’t want anyone to know you care whether anyone’s catching up to you. So that’s what hairpin turns are for. At first, I could see Rick and Kenny close behind me. 

And then I couldn’t.

That was a good moment.

I got to the top first and — goober that I am — immediately checked my stopwatch so I’d know how much I beat Rick and Kenny by. (Nevermind that Kenny was still cooked from Cascade Creampuff, and Rick S had no idea how to mete out his climbing effort, having never been on Mt. Nebo before.)

Five minutes and seven minutes, respectively.

I tell you what: The pink jersey makes you fast.

Left to right: Rick S, Kenny, and me. Dug took this (not posed, since none of us knew he was taking a picture) photo with his cool iPhone. I’m closest because I’m walking over to Dug to tell him I beat him up the climb by twelve minutes.

The Ride Ends in Tragedy
We regrouped at the top, all of us thirsty beyond belief in the brutal heat — more than 100 degrees in the valley, and probably 90+ even up top on the mountain. We loaded up on water at Payson Lakes — Kenny drew a small crowd when he stripped down to his shorts and went for a short swim.

Next up was the big downhill. Fifteen miles or so of it. And I tried to keep Dug in sight as we flew down. Really, I did. But I couldn’t. The fact is, nobody can stay with Dug on the descents. Dug has some secret gravity distortion field gizmo — coupled with a bizarre disdain for potential consequences — that allows him to rocket downhill faster than you and I can even contemplate.

Sadly, before long Dug had to slow, caught behind a slow-descending truck. Before long, the entire group was backed up behind this truck, and there was no passing it — the road was that twisty, and none of us were feeling so suicidal as to try passing a truck in a blind corner.

So we spent the downhill behind a truck, riding our brakes. Would it really have been so hard for this guy to pull over for us, just for a second?

It may seem to you that this was the tragedy I was speaking of. But no. That comes next.

As we exited the shadow of Mt. Nebo and rode the final 20 miles back toward Kenny’s house, we started looking at our watches, checking to see how closely the predicted finish time we had told our respective spouses matched with reality.

It turns out that Dug, Rick S., and I — who had carpooled together to Kenny’s house — all needed to get to our respective homes, ASAP. We were already late, in fact.

There was no way around it: we’d have to skip going to Ben and Jerry’s.

Yes, it’s true. We were riding with the owner of a Ben and Jerry’s store, with an offer of free ice cream. We were riding past that store. It was more than 100 degrees outside. We had all been on our bikes for 105 miles. Nothing in the world sounded better than New York Super Fudge Chunk.

And yet, we did not stop for ice cream.

I am still crying, even three days later.


  1. Comment by UltraRob | 07.16.2007 | 8:24 pm

    Surely you could have gotten a scoop of ice cream in a couple minutes. You can eat ice cream and ride your bike, can’t you? I don’t remember every doing it but it can’t be harder than eating a burrito or brushing teeth while riding and I have done those things.

  2. Comment by dug | 07.16.2007 | 8:25 pm

    “goober that i am”

    AMEN brother.

  3. Comment by 2Phat | 07.16.2007 | 8:36 pm


    I know how Fatty has been doing so well in all of those Sundance Mountain Biking races…sabotage! Yes, it is true! Don’t believe me? Fine, I have proof. Look at this picture: http://www.flickr.com/photos/67019671@N00/831711530/

    Notice anyone familiar lurking in the background? Yes, it’s our very own Fatty! Of course, he wants to make sure his covert operation on this “favorite to win” racer’s frame worked. I especially like his coy, nonchalant sideways glance. He is not looking directly at the damage, but making sure the dastardly deed was a complete success!

    Remember: To Splam is human, to Splorp, divine. Especially on Ben and Jerry’s!

    Nice work on the Nebo Loop Elden. Maybe some day I will be as fast as you. Yah, right! Look out Super Chocolate Chunk, here I come!

  4. Comment by Little1 | 07.16.2007 | 10:14 pm

    what no ice-cream??? here befalls our hero a travesty of justice!

  5. Comment by TheLurker | 07.16.2007 | 11:30 pm

    Nah, you’re looking at it wrong. It’s not tragic, it’s _heroic_. You rode 100+ miles up stupidly steep hills in brain-boiling heat and were tough enough to not need an ice-cream. Ice-cream? Pah! It’s fer jessies. :)

  6. Comment by Tim D | 07.17.2007 | 12:46 am

    Surely the tragedy was the untimely death of those two poor mountain goats, whose only crime was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Splorpped dry by a rampaging Fatty.

  7. Comment by MAJ Mike | 07.17.2007 | 3:31 am

    Good ride, but surely whatever awaited at home could continue a-waitin’ in the face of free ice cream.

    Got the pink jerseys upon arrival at home last night. Both are to be gifts…my girlfriend loves her’s!

  8. Comment by Al Maviva | 07.17.2007 | 4:30 am

    Rob is correct. No wonder your rides are all so hard and epic – you don’t know how to eat on the bike. That you didn’t stop and eat is pathetic, and all too typical of that weird genetic mutant, the mountain biker doing road training. Heck, I bet you can’t even get your leg warmers, jacket, and base layers on and off while riding. Weeeeaaaakkk! True, I may be weak like a little girl on the bicycle, but at least I can manage proper nutrition when I ride – this has included sandwiches, pizza, McDonalds, anything that can be purchased at a 7-11, tequila, bourbon and scotch out of a metal flask, and anything else you might have. The only thing I won’t eat or drink while riding is… Um… well…

    Gosh darnit, I am honestly trying pretty hard to think of something I wouldn’t eat in my quest to keep properly fueled on long rides, but I can’t think of anything. I’ll stop back later and let everybody know if something comes to mind. Maybe raw tofu…

  9. Comment by FliesOnly | 07.17.2007 | 4:40 am

    Ya know…I often ask myself why I continually come back to this site. And then I read that days story and my question is answered. You never disappoint.

    By the way, I received both jerseys (and my socks) yesterday and am looking forward to my first ride in my fancy new attire.

  10. Comment by Boz | 07.17.2007 | 7:07 am

    The guys riding the big tours in Euro-land often had the domestiques stop and get ice cream, pastries, ect… during the lulls in the attacks, but did stop short of stopping and swimming. Sounds like you guys have your priorities backwards as compared to the PROs. But you probably don’t smell as bad.

  11. Comment by Sophia | 07.17.2007 | 7:09 am

    “Kenny drew a small crowd when he stripped down to his shorts and went for a short swim.”

    And not a one of you thought to take out your camera phones??? Seriously, this is why you need more women riding buddies.

    Great story, FC and good luck on Friday, Susan.

  12. Comment by Luther Vandross | 07.17.2007 | 8:22 am

    Did anyone see the piece in the New York Times today on fat cyclists being just as fast as thin ones?

  13. Comment by Clydesteve | 07.17.2007 | 8:34 am

    Drafting cattle uphill… THAT, my friends, is class.

    I am with the others, though, Fatty – You must have been fried more than you are letting on to skip the ice cream. Al – Have you eaten spaghetti on a bike?

  14. Comment by MAJ Mike | 07.17.2007 | 9:01 am

    “Did anyone see the piece in the New York Times today on fat cyclists being just as fast as thin ones?”

    Somebody tell Michael Rassmussen.

    Can you link or paste this fabled article? I really have to see that.

  15. Comment by Anonymous | 07.17.2007 | 9:10 am

    Clydesteve…i’ve drafted behind amish buggies before in a fierce wind. does that compare?

  16. Comment by cheapie | 07.17.2007 | 9:10 am

    Clydesteve…i’ve drafted behind amish buggies before in a fierce wind. does that compare?

  17. Comment by Al Maviva | 07.17.2007 | 9:26 am

    Clydesteve – yes, but only from a can. I’ve read of RAAM competitors eating plates of spaghetti, hands off the bars wielding fork & spoon. I am not worthy…

    And Luther, of course we’re faster, under certain conditions, such as descending hills, or beating the skinny little runts to the fridge at halftime.

  18. Comment by buckythedonkey | 07.17.2007 | 9:31 am

    You skipped free ice cream? A new low! Shame!

  19. Comment by Rick S. | 07.17.2007 | 9:33 am

    that was a huge climb. At one point, thinking we were close to the top, I asked Kenny if we were almost there. He looked over at me and just laughed. I knew I was in trouble.

  20. Comment by Megan | 07.17.2007 | 10:01 am

    The article:


  21. Comment by Bitter (formerly known as Lissee) | 07.17.2007 | 10:09 am

    Dang, I got stuck in a moderation loop… Now Megan beat me to posting the link.

    Nice azspritzen Cheapie.

  22. Comment by TimK | 07.17.2007 | 10:41 am

    What’s wrong with a Chunky Monkey milkshake in the CamelBak or water bottle? You apparently don’t like ice cream enough.

  23. Comment by sans auto | 07.17.2007 | 10:43 am

    Riding through Wyoming I once spooked a bunch of cattle (~6-12) and started herding them down the highway. They were afraid of the bikes, but stuck between the fence on each side of the highway. So we rode along, afraid to pass the cows as they darted from one side of the road to the other. At a few points we even had traffic backed up because they didn’t want to get hit by a cow.

    I think I was fast enough to pass the cows, but I certainly lacked the courage to rub elbows with a running cow. Eventaully the farmer caught us in his pick-up and herded the cows back to their field… he didn’t seem real happy with the situation.

    Al- have you ever eaten a giant handful of sour patch kids on a bike? If you have that would explain your writting talent since I don’t think you would be able to get the goo out of your mouth for years.

    Susan- We’re praying for you.

  24. Comment by Eufemiano Fuentes | 07.17.2007 | 11:30 am



    Beef jerky? (I think that the head thrust generated my tearing off a peice with your teeth would send you headlong into oncoming traffic or conversely a roadside ditch)

    Corn on the Cob?

    eggs benedict?

  25. Comment by Eufemiano Fuentes | 07.17.2007 | 11:31 am


  26. Comment by rexinsea | 07.17.2007 | 12:00 pm

    Surely you could have used your cell phone and begged for 15 more minutes to get FREE ice cream.

    Or perhaps is this your secret plan to get all B7 competitors obsessing about how delicious ice cream would be RIGHT NOW, knock them off their diets and allow you to cruise to victory. B7 competitors – beware of this post!

    Nice ride post. These are why I come back to this site often. Thanks!

  27. Comment by bradk | 07.17.2007 | 12:39 pm

    that’s the gayest group photo i’ve ever seen! the only thing wrong with it is that i’m not in it. love it!

  28. Comment by AMG in Texas | 07.17.2007 | 1:24 pm

    I am sure you could have bought extra time if you told Susan that you are bringing her a bowl of Ben and Jerrys!!! It works for me like a champ!! This is why I am still a fat cyclist!

    Al, have you ever ate tortilla soup while riding a bike??? How about chips and salsa?? Haven’t been to Texas lately? You are missing out on todays special at Chuys restaurant “Carne Montado”… Steak fajitas covered in spicy cheese sauce with their rice and refried beans and super hot chili sauce… Yum Yum. In fact the wife called to remind me to bring 2 plates home today… Yes I know you are drooling… I am going to splorp when I get home. Dont worry, my new pink lemonade jersey will still fit on friday.

    Best wishes Susan. How mad were you when Fatty told you about not bringing you some Ben and Jerry’s home??? What??? He is still sleeping in the garage??? Be kind to the FC, he loves you.

  29. Comment by Al Maviva | 07.17.2007 | 1:31 pm

    Wow. This is turning into an eating-food-on-the-bike dare kind of thing. I’ll address the questions raised, in order, and then address a few likely suggestions. Sans – Sour Patch Kids – yes. I have. And most other candies you could name, including Atomic Fireballs. I don’t like candy very much but after four or five hard hours on the bike, I’d eat roadkill if I sensed carbs.

    Eufemiano – I haven’t eaten paella, but I would. A huevos rancheros burrito would be awesome on a randonee… I have eaten a burrito with chorizo and eggs and salsa in it, along with some other lesser burritos (i.e. the 7-11 Bean & Gristle Burrito) on the bike – does that count? It’s like paella without the rice… I haven’t eaten corn on the cob on the bike, but have eaten corn nuts a few times on hot days (mmm… very salty) and once ate a corn dog on the bike, so corn on the cob wouldn’t be much of a stretch. It would have to be heavily salted though. No Clamato, but plenty of V-8… we don’t really get Clamato that much where I live. You ever get crampy and have a salt craving during a long ride on a hot day? Hit up a bag of pretzels instead of your Clif bar and see if you don’t feel better. See, the thing is, I don’t normally eat this garbagey stuff, usually I’m a model of good nutritive blah, chunking down action food bars, nuts, maybe a piece of fruit and gallons of energy drink – but about once every month or so, I’ll be on an epic (5-6+ hours) ride, get totally gassed, and load up on about a thousand calories of ‘real’ food, or at least as real as you can buy from a gas station shop 30 miles from nowhere. I try to stick to big muffins and oatmeal cookies and sandwiches, but you take what the store offers, and more often than not it is sheer crap. Heck, some day I may be reduced to grabbing a couple 40’s of Colt Malt Liquor. Don’t knock it – that’s like 800 calories! Yeah, a thousand calories of randomly assembled carbs & fats sounds bad, but when you’re bordering on Bonkland, and your powermeter tells you you’re 3400 calories into the ride, and you know you’ve only refueled with about 1600, you best listen to your gut and not worry about it. The weird thing is when I’m riding along and reasonably well-fueled, my stomach is a little sensitive – some sports drinks upset it, some foods give me the bloat. When I’m gassed – the stomach goes into cast iron-mode and I can eat anything without fear of reprisal, like the little bugger is grateful for the attention, even if it is tantamount to abuse. Strange. It’s like a dog that’s been beaten.

    Now, before anybody asks, yes, I’d eat anchovies, but not on a really hard ride. Grossest stuff I ever ate on rides? Years ago in Germany, I ate lovely things like blutwurst, schmalzbrot, and mett on long rides with buddies out in the German countryside. Same reasoning – you’re 60 miles out, and the trail or roadside biergarten only has one thing that you could possibly stuff in a jersey pocket when you roll in, so that’s what you buy. Other than the mett (ground raw pork/horse/beef on a buttered hard roll) I’m not sure that I’d still go for the blutwurst or schmalzbrot now. And I’d have to be d@mned hungry to eat cockles or pickled eggs on a ride though I bet Tim-D isn’t above whacking a jarful.

    As for eggs benedict, Eufemiano… Oh my God, they’re disgusting but I’d eat them because I hear they are like EPO, but instead of improving your climbing, they help with descending.

    Any of y’all have disgusting, weird, or offbeat things you’ve eaten on rides?

  30. Comment by Jsun | 07.17.2007 | 1:39 pm


  31. Comment by mark | 07.17.2007 | 1:57 pm

    On my last century, they had chips and salsa at the aid station at mile 82. Best salsa I have ever eaten. I have not ventured back to the Mexican restaurant it came from to see if it really was that good. Didn’t have any negative side effects, either. In fact, it was a windy day and on my turn to pull, the whole pack save one person fell off. They should’ve eaten more salsa.

    Al M, I about fell out of my chair over the eggs benedict comment. No wonder I like eggs benedict so much. Is eggs florentine any better (for you, not tasting, duh) because it has spinach in it? Just wondering.

  32. Comment by Clydesteve | 07.17.2007 | 2:15 pm

    cheapie – Amish horse n’ buggy is pretty good, but they generally don’t travel at good 20 mph+ drafting speeds, do they? But the word play with drafting and draft horses is fairly irresistable.

    my best drafting things are farm equipment. I have drafted behind a wind-rower (swather), a combine (harvester), and, of course, a large tractor pulling implements down the highway. They all have high quality draft, because they are wider than a lane and high as a house, but usually only the tractors go faster than 20 mph. OTOH, passing a house on wheels that is going 14 mph down the highway with a bicycle is a thrill, as well. I have never gotten a trifecta (combine, windrower and tractor) on the same ride yet, and I have never eaten a burrito no hands while passing a combine, either.

  33. Comment by barry1021 | 07.17.2007 | 2:56 pm

    How about Sushi? With wasabi of course. Extra credit for using chopsticks.

    I once picked up sushi takeout when the family was away, and was so hungry driving home that I opened the container and grabbed a piece. Unbeknownst to me the blob of wasabi stuck to it, and because my jaw is double hinged (best reference would be the movie “Alien”), I dropped the whole kit and caboodle in. ‘Course the best time to eat a whole chunk of wasabi is probably not when you’re driving. I actually went blind for a moment, but did manage to keep the truck on the road. Fun times.
    NO WHINING FOR ME!! Got the pink package today. Wifey and I are ready to roll, they are really nice and pink is such a good color for me, it brings out the color in my bloodshot eyes so well


  34. Comment by Born4Lycra | 07.17.2007 | 3:20 pm

    Pink has made it to South Australia! Not sure if it is the only one here but I’ll be wearing it with pride fighting for and winning with Susan on Friday.
    Bought the T-shirt too – very smart but the orange on the back is a little washed out – suppose it’s not that easy putting orange on black.
    Whatever – Good job Twin6 and best wishes Susan.

  35. Comment by RoadChica | 07.17.2007 | 4:05 pm

    Holy smokes. Pink jerseys arrived to South Australia the same day they made it to my northern California hamlet!?!? What kind of time warp did my jersey enter? Like B21, I will shut up now because it has finally arrived! Hooray!

  36. Comment by TG | 07.17.2007 | 5:11 pm

    Susan–Sending love and prayers your way. I hope that you get only good news from your test on Friday. WIN!

  37. Comment by TIMK | 07.18.2007 | 4:18 am

    Alright, Al, since the food discussion came up and the host of this blog is based in the great, wild west – I have to ask, would you, could you, eat Rocky Mountain oysters on a bike? Could you eat them at all?

    Talk about testing positive for testosterone!

    I guess the German foods you mentioned answer any questions about whether or not you would eat pork rinds.

  38. Comment by cheapie | 07.18.2007 | 4:42 am

    Clydesteve….you’re right. they were probably only moving 15-18mph but in that brutal wind, we were happy for any reprieve, however brief. we’d see a buggy in the distance and sprint to catch up and get out of the wind. unfortunately, they all seemed to turn off the road shortly after we sought their shelter.

  39. Comment by Al Maviva | 07.18.2007 | 4:48 am

    I have eaten pork rinds, but not the fluffy ones, the hard, crispy crackle. As for Rocky Mountain Oysters… Man, if I ever ride with Fatty, I know he’s going to make me pay, but compared to schmalzbrot… No problem.

    I would eat them in the rain,
    I’d eat them in the Disco train.
    I would eat them in the sun,
    Munch them down, so much fun.
    I would eat them in the fall,
    Yes TimK, I’d eat bull ball.

    *I reserve the right to not eat disgusting foods if the ride is high tempo-level or harder.

  40. Comment by MAJ Mike | 07.18.2007 | 4:55 am

    How about monkey brains, a la “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom?”

  41. Comment by Boz | 07.18.2007 | 5:00 am

    I limped home in diabetic bonk last night – blood sugar 35- and grabbed some glucose tabs, ate them, then headed straight to the fridge. Chose the left over Hormel roast beef hash w/ 3 eggs over easy, the left over chicken breast which I thin sliced and sauted w/ broccolli, garlic and onion. Washed it down w/ 2 Plymouth g&t’s. SWMBO came home and found me crashed out watching the TDF and assumed I had a hard ride and was just wiped. She broke out the left over Kettle Corn from Sunday’s fair. Funny wheat a guy chooses when his mind is shut off. This morning I felt like I was on a 3 day bender. Nice.

  42. Comment by Boz | 07.18.2007 | 5:22 am

    Al – maybe after starting this topic, you should organize and group ride featuring Andrew Zimmerman, Tony Bourdain, and a tribe of pigmey’s. I’m sure a lot of culinary delights would get shot out the back of that pelaton.

  43. Comment by Susan (another one) | 07.18.2007 | 5:36 am

    Did it ever occur to call home and say, “Hon, I’m stopping and getting US some ice cream?”

  44. Comment by Al Maviva | 07.18.2007 | 7:30 am

    Okay, Major Mike, you got me there. I guess I do have a rule, and that is to not eat food on a bike trip, if the trip is occurring in a place only reachable via Surly Pugsley. In places like that I’ve eaten and drunk things that I am ashamed to admit I have eaten, including some drinks (the mere mention of which make most people’s stomach heave). These include merely shameful and disgusting meats (camel, rat, dog, and apparently rotten), and the stomach-tossing variety of drinks (e.g. fermented anise, and curdled goat’s blood). I’ve had dysentary twice as a result of playing culinary Marco Polo (Greaaaattt weight loss program, dysentary – takes off 50 pounds in a matter of a couple weeks. Great if you don’t die from it or blow out your ringpiece, anyhow). Suffice to say, I won’t be filling my water bottles with the goats blood, and putting some rotten meat of unidentifiable provenance in my hind pockets on the club ride. So I guess you’ve got me there, Mike, I probably wouldn’t eat the indigenous foods of the OomBapa Maumaus while riding my bike.

  45. Comment by Bill F (Kenny Groupie) | 07.18.2007 | 8:44 pm

    I made the blog and all it took was the offer for free ice cream which I didn’t even have to make good on. Actually, I hope you take the entire familily over to B&J after Susan’s scan on Friday and carbo load as much as you can for Saturday’s ride. Instead of waiting 35 minutes for me at the top, maybe it will be more like 30 minutes this time around.

  46. Pingback by Fat Cyclist » Blog Archive » The Tell | 06.11.2009 | 11:33 am

    [...] “Hey, remember how you were talking about riding a Nebo loop (more about past Nebo rides here, here, and here) sometime? My Saturday just opened [...]


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