Bike racing, housing development, pea patches, stolen bikes and more!

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“Cry me a river Mr. Clenbuterol. Seriously, a contaminated steak? You’ve used the system to get your millions and now it seems to be catching up to you. Don’t threaten the cycling community with your “I just might leave cycling” comments. Please do. Run away. There’s no place for lying, cheating cyclists like yourself. Give him two years followed by life.” – (http://velonews.competitor.com/2010/10/news/locals-turn-out-to-support-alberto-contador_147540?news)

Apparently some people haven’t come to terms with the fact that professional athletes are human. People cheat. People try to enhance their performance in ways that are, at times, illegal. Is this a surprise? I’m sorry. . . boo hoo.

Cycling has never been clean, but then again, neither has any sport.

Go ride your bike and quit crying about the things people do to succeed when money and power is involved. I’m touched that AC’s friends and family are trying to support him, as I yours would do that same (regardless of whether you were guilty or not).

A lock on a bike.

Locking your bike. It seems so simple, but is it really?

Well. . . yes.

Click through for some tips.

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So I rode to Bellingham the other night with my friend Zack. We left at midnight and got in to Fairhaven a bit before 9:30 am. Here are some thoughts about the night. . .

It sucks to ride 100 miles in the pouring rain at night. Until you realize that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Shoe covers don’t keep your feet dry during 9 hours of riding in the rain, but they do keep them insulated!

My Light and Motion Stella runs for a really, really long time.

After being soaked for 9 hours straight, it’s a treat to only feel damp.

Continuous physical activity (to stay warm) is rather conducive to contemplation and introspection.

Boundary Bay Brewery doesn’t open until 11am. Ergo next time I will leave Seattle approximately two hours later (or ride a few mph faster).

A mimosa with breakfast does not sufficiently replace a beer.

Chuckanut is a beautiful (though hilly) stretch of highway.

A good measure of how hard it’s raining is the amount of water that drains from your glove when you make a fist.

Running my headlight on the “blink” mode reminds me how fortunate I am to not experience epileptic seizures.