Come Ride in France with Andy Freaking Hampsten and Me

02.24.2011 | 5:23 pm

A Note from Fatty: The good folks at the Leadville Trail 100 have asked me to spread the word that if you’re following them on Facebook, the best page to connect up with them is here. And, just out of curiosity, I’m wondering: how many Fat Cyclist readers have sent in applications? And should we organize a meetup in Leadville this year? Cuz I kinda think we should.

Back in December, I did a contest where we raised money to help Andreas Knickman in his fight against bone cancer. The prize on offer was incredible: an entry in one of the tours Andy Hampsten is organizing in France and Italy this year.

We raised a ton of money, and helped Andreas out, both financially and with an incredible show of moral support to him and his family.

And then I never announced who the winner is.

Sure, I had my reasons. Which I will explain shortly. But first, I’d like to gloat just a little bit.

Gloat

Last night, The Runner and I were invited up to Ogden, to join Chuck Ibis and ANDY FREAKING HAMPSTEN for dinner.

The thing is, we didn’t go to a restaurant. Nope.

Instead, Andy and his wife Elaine cooked. A delicious Italian meal. And they gave us a really incredible gift: a five-liter tin of olive oil from their Extra Virgin Olive Oil Co.

And then we talked about biking. And food. And more biking.

And I, being who I am, just would not shut up.

Yes, that’s right: I’m sitting across the table from ANDY FREAKING HAMPSTEN and I’m monopolizing the conversation, talking about riding the Kokopelli Trail and riding the Leadville 100, and riding the trail network in American Fork Canyon.

All good rides, sure, but you’d think that maybe — just this once, seeing as how I was sitting across the table from the only American to ever win the Giro d’Italia — I’d have asked him about his stories.

Nope. I went on and on. Because I was having a hard time grasping the fact that I was in the presence of a couple of cycling legends and I was about to swoon.

And cuz I’m a dope.

However, in one moment of lucidity, I did produce some Fat Cyclist-related merchandise for Andy, and even got him to put on one particular item:

I’m pretty sure that Andy is — with the exception of Dr. Lammler, of course — the only person who has ever worn this t-shirt who knows the exact extent to which this statement is true.

Oh, by the way, if you’d like to have one of these shirts for your very own, Twin Six still has some. Men’s here, women’s here.

Meet the Winner

So now I’d like you to meet the winner of the trip for the bike tour with Andy: Laura, from the San Francisco Bay area:

Here’s what Laura had to say about winning:

I’m 40 yrs old, an orthopaedic surgeon, and I’m from the San Francisco Bay Area. Been riding bikes forever (never been fast but I keep trucking).

My husband and I have been doing self-guided bike trips with friends the last couple years. Last year, we rented a villa between Radda in Chianti and Castellina, and rode out and backs each day for a week.

I’ve been following Fatty’s blog for quite some time since I have a very prominent family history of breast cancer; his stories of Susan hit close to home. When I saw he had a fund raiser on for a kid with osteosarcoma, I had to donate. Really didn’t think I’d win!

OK, so now the reason I haven’t mentioned the winner of the Andreas Knickman contest until now. It’s because The Runner and I have been trying to figure out whether it’s possible for us to join that winner on the tour she selected.

Well, we’ve figured out the timing, my Mom has agreed to watch the kids, we’ve pulled together the money, and we are doing it.

So, we’ll be joining Laura for the Alps & Gorges trip in France August 27 – September 4.

Oh, and there’s a good chance Chuck will join us, too.

So yeah: we’ll be riding L’Halpe d’Huez with ANDY FREAKING HAMPSTEN this Summer.

Or at least, in the same general vicinity.

So, Why Don’t You Come Join Us?

Last night, I asked Andy if that tour’s full yet. It’s not. In fact, there are 10 slots still open. So, if you’ve got the time and money and think it might be fun to come ride with ANDY FREAKING HAMPSTEN and Chuck Ibis and Laura and her husband (sorry guys) and The Runner and me, well, I can’t imagine a more awesome thing in the world than having Team Fatty totally own this tour.

(Full Disclosure: I’m saying this ‘cuz I want to. I have no financial interest whatsoever in this or any other Cinghiale tour).

There’ll be tough rides — amazingly tough, actually — but I can vouch for the people. Seriously, this is going to be about the dreamiest dream vacation ever.

And Andy’s a darn good cook.

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The HelmetCam Gourmet: A Self-Critique

02.22.2011 | 12:05 pm

About a week ago, I had an awesome idea. I thought to myself, “Hey, people are always telling me how good my guacamole is, and asking me how I make it. I should do a blog post about how to make guacamole.”

Then, I had an additional idea: “Hey, I haven’t done a video with my helmetcam for a while. What if I wore my helmetcam and just narrated while I made guacamole?”

At the time, it seemed like a can’t-miss idea. Me! Wearing a helmet! While cooking! And being funny!

What could possibly go wrong?

Well, here’s what went wrong.

First of all, the way I think is probably much better suited for writing than for extemporaneous talking. When I write, I edit a lot on the fly — by the time I get to the end of most sentences, I’ve had an idea of how the beginning of the sentence might work better. A couple of tweaks later and I’ve got a perfectly usable sentence.

That doesn’t work quite so well when you’re talking off-the-cuff. Oh sure, when I get to the end of a sentence I’m saying, I still have the idea of how I might improve the beginning of that selfsame sentence, but it’s kinda too late to fix it, what with my having said it and all.

Next, guacamole — while almost certainly the most amazingly delicious use of what is almost certainly one of the three most perfect foods on the planet — is kinda gross-looking when filmed from above, without special lighting, by a guy who has no experience making food look good on film (or the electronic equivalent thereof).

Third, I forgot to use my radio announcer voice, and so what you hear is my actual, normal, nasal voice. I’m so sorry.

Fourth, yesterday was not a school day, and so I had to contend with my kids in a couple of different ways.

• I had told the twins I’d be filming in the kitchen and so I needed them to go to a friend’s house or go play outside or something. This backfired beautifully; they kept coming inside to tell me what they were doing, which friend’s house they were going to next, and so forth. If I ever do a director’s cut of this video (very, very likely), I’ll include (and commentate) the part of the video where I yell at the kids to please, please, please, stop coming in and yelling, and to just go outside for ten minutes and let me get through this.
• I had a vivid mental picture in my head of how ridiculous I looked — talking to myself about how to make guacamole, while wearing a mountain biking helmet — and how uncomfortable I’d be trying to explain myself to any of the three teenagers that might wander into the kitchen.

Fifth, I take guacamole very seriously indeed, and so had very few hilarious things to say. Instead, I listened to myself in horror as I found myself giving an earnest rundown of how to make guacamole.

Wherein I Force Myself to Continue

Halfway through making this video, I nearly stopped. I didn’t, though, because I considered two things:

1. If I don’t ever try new things just because I think I suck, I’ll never get good at anything new.
2. Thanks to the miracle of electronic media, I could always just delete the whole thing if I decided I just couldn’t bear to put it on the blog.

And so I watched the video, and then edited it. Thinking, the whole time, “Well, it’s not quite bad enough to abandon the project.”

[Note to self: A good way to tell that a project should be abandoned is if you have to repeatedly tell yourself that the project isn't quite bad enough to abandon.]

After about 45 minutes of editing work, I had a video. Here it is:

Why put it up, when — obviously — I’m not exactly a fan of how it turned out? A couple reasons:

1. It was an experiment. While it didn’t turn out great, there’s a chance that something I learned will be useful in another project I do. Or in a project someone else does. Who knows?
2. This blog was built on a foundation of self-humiliation. So this fits right in.
3. There’s a fair chance that someone will make and enjoy some guacamole after watching this video. In which case I will be partially responsible for an increase in the amount of happiness in the universe.

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Start Getting Ready for the 2011 100 Miles of Nowhere

02.17.2011 | 7:39 am

Hey, remember how I got LASIKs a few months ago? Well guess what? i AM NOW COMPLETELY BLIND.

Ok, that’s not true. But my left eye doesn’t see a lot better now than it did pre-surgery. So today I’m headed under the blade-o’-light again to see if this time things go better.

I’m headed over to Al’s House of BBQ and LASIK in twenty minutes. I’m very, very excited.

Sadly, though, this means I don’t have a ton of time to write right now, and I’m supposed to lay off the computerin’ tomorrow, too.

So I’m just going to quickly go through a (fairly short) laundry list of a few things I’d like you to consider, weigh in on, and otherwise hobnob about for the next couple of days.

Item The First: The 100 Miles of Nowhere

I’ve been getting a lot of questions about the Fourth Annual 100 Miles of Nowhere. Well, it’s definitely going to be on, and I’m tentatively planning on June 4 as the “race” day.

Related to that, I’m happy to say that Twin Six will be designing the T-Shirt (again). I wanted to get your thoughts around other aspects of the race.

• Call for Sponsors: Do you work for or know a company that would like to be a part of the most ridiculous event ever created? Considering that you’ll get lots of good coverage in my blog, you’ll be doing something good in the fight against cancer, and you’ll get your product out in front of hundreds of people, maybe you should want to sponsor the 100 Miles of Nowhere. If you’re interested, email me. Pronto.
• How important is the swag bag to you? Which is to say, if I said, “First 500 people to register get a swag bag, everyone else gets a t-shirt and a nameplate,” would you register even if you didn’t make the first 500 cutoff?
• What can we do to make this more of a community event? My original 100 Miles of Nowhere was just me, alone in a room. Since then, it’s become much more entertaining, with people winning it on cul-de-sacs, unicycles, and aircraft carriers, just to name a few extremely strange divisions. It’s become a fun thing to do with people you like (or hold a grudge against). So what can I do to make it a way for you to include more people, and raise more money?

I look forward to your ideas. This is gonna be fun.

Item The Second: I Want Some New Header Photos

I’ve been using the same photo in my blog header for so long now. And while the “Approved by UCI” logo gives it a touch of new hilarity, I’d really like to start rotating some new photos in.

So, do me a favor. Email me your bike-related photos you think might make a good blog header. Use the subject line “Header Photo.”

What can you win? Um, nothing. Sorry. You just get the satisfaction of having your photo be at the top of my blog for a while. And photo credit for sure. And — if you like — a link to your site.

Oh, and please don’t send me anything you don’t have the right to loan me (You of course retain ownership of the photo; you just need to have the rights to let me use it).

OK, I’m off to get lasified. I’ll be back Monday.

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I Have An Important Announcement to Make

02.16.2011 | 12:48 pm

Comments (48)

Bike Stuff is a Gas

02.14.2011 | 12:55 pm

Today’s post is about luggage, and some very persuasive and scientific theories I have about luggage. Cycling road trip luggage, to be precise.

To set the stage for my theories, I offer to you the following photographs as evidence.

First, here is a photograph — taken yesterday — of the backseat area of my BikeMobile:

As you can clearly see, two road bikes fit in that area easily, without the necessity of removing any wheels.

Next, here is a photograph — also taken yesterday — of the bed of my truck:

And here is another, to give you a bird’s-eye view of the contents of that truck bed:

Looking at all that, please take a moment to answer the following questions:

1. How many people are on this trip?
2. How long is this trip?

I know that you’re waiting on tenterhooks for the answer, so I’ll get straight to it.

It was a two-day trip (to Saint George, UT) for two people: The Runner and me. Here’s. Here’s a picture of us somewhere on the Goulds / Jem / Hurricane Rim loop yesterday:

Don’t we look happy? Well, of course we look happy, because we are happy. How could we not be happy? After all, by driving for 3.5 short hours we got away from winter to a sunny, warm pavement and desert-singletrack paradise.

But still. All that luggage? For just two people? For just two days?

Which is what brings us to the heart of today’s post.

Bike Stuff Is A Gas

As anyone who has ever farted in a room knows, gas expands to fill all available space. Which is why I have to believe that bike stuff is a gas. I mean, a few months ago, I went to the Ride for the Roses weekend in Austin, then directly from there to work for a week in Chicago, and I fit everything I needed into a single suitcase.

Because that was the amount of space that was available.

Last weekend, on the other hand, The Runner and I had The BikeMobile all to ourselves and — sure enough — our stuff exactly filled the truck.

Hence: bike stuff is a gas.

A Closer Look

Let’s look a little deeper into what what, exactly, filled the truck. This time, however, we’ll number the various items, for easy identification.

Item 1: The Backpack. This contains food items, such as PRO Bars and Fruition bars, and Honey Stinger fruit chews. And Salted Nut Rolls. And Dried Mangoes. And cashews. It’s also got a number of non-bike-specific food items, such as Chex Party Mix. And chips. And Oreos. Gee, I wonder why I’m not losing weight very fast this Winter?

Item 2: The Large Black Samsonite. This suitcase contains all of The Runner’s clothes for the trip, both for cycling and for non-cycling. I’m a little bit embarrassed to admit that The Runner is a more efficient packer than I am.

Item 3: The Small Yellow Tote Bag. This bag contains The Runner’s non-clothes-related items for the weekend. And now suddenly I’m not feeling so bad about the fact that all her clothes fit into a single bag.

Item 4: The Large Grey Tote Bag. This bag contains all my biking clothes for the weekend, and is almost certainly the most perfect example of my theory. Since I knew I had plenty of room, I filled this bag with a pair of bib tights, knee warmers, arm warmers, three pair of bib shorts, three long-sleeved jerseys, three short-sleeved jerseys, a wool base layer jersey, three pair of lightweight wool cycling socks, two pair heavy wool socks, shoe covers, one pair lightweight cycling gloves, one pair middleweight cycling gloves, and one pair cold-weather cycling gloves. And three different beanies, of varying weights and colors.

The thing is, when all was said and done, what I actually wore, cycling-wise, was two different pair of bibshorts (one each for the two rides we did), one long-sleeved jersey (I wore the same jersey for both rides, because I love my new Fat Cyclist Long Sleeve jersey so much), two pair of socks, and one pair of gloves. In other words, the cycling clothes I actually used could have fit in the side pocket of The Runner’s suitcase.

Item 5: The Purple-and-Brown Tote Bag of Hideousness: I have owned two very ugly nylon tote bags for about 17 years. I’d get rid of them but they are pretty much bombproof, and incredibly practical. For this trip, the purple-and-brown bag contained four pair of cycling shoes (two each for The Runner and me) and two helmets. The side pocket contained spare tubes (both road and mountain), lube, CO2 cartridges, a triangle hex wrench, and an oil rag.

Item 6: Ice Chest. I make no apologies for this item. There’s nothing better than a cold drink after a ride.

Item 7: The Purple-and-Teal Tote Bag of Hideousness: This bag contained all my non-cycling clothes. This, embarrassingly, contains enough clothing to last me a full two weeks. I threw in multiple pairs of pants and about half the t-shirts I own. I could have done just fine by bringing two t-shirts (and the second one would have been just in case I spilled salsa on the first). I mean, it’s a biking trip, after all. Not a fashion show.

Items 8 & 9: Gary Fisher Superfly, Superfly SS: Our bikes, plus of course the road bikes (Orbea Orcas for both of us) inside the truck. I don’t feel bad about bringing these, because we did in fact go on both a road ride and a mountain bike ride. But if we had less space, it would have been easy to just bring one bike per person.

Item 10: My foot. As I perched precariously on the top of the bed of the truck and taking photos of the contents therein, looking like a fool to anyone in the parking lot who might be curious as to what I was doing.

The Consolidation of Stuff

So, suppose we hadn’t had all that room? Well, Item 1 could have been eliminated altogether, by stuffing whatever food we wanted into our helmets for the trip. Item 2 — OK, Item 2 stays as-is, but Item 3 could maybe have been pared down?

Okay, maybe not. I don’t want to go there.

Items 4, 5, and 7, however, could easily have been combined into a single bag, as long as The Runner was willing to share her toothbrush. And doesn’t mind me smelling a little bit bad by day 2 of the trip.

I’ll have to ask her about that.

So sure, we could have easily fit everything we needed into a smaller space for the trip. But you know, there’s something luxurious about lazy packing — just throwing stuff in there, so you know you’re covered, no matter what the weather or your mood.

And besides, there’s no fighting physics.

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