Periodically Triple Or Double.

This Place Is A Prison.

Wake Me Up, It's Morning.

Flying In Circles Inside A Jar.

Bridge to Captain.

the aftermath of any successful event is marked by exhaustion. there are cleanups, thank-yous, and the slow shift back to normalcy. or in my case, the brief calm before the storm that this week will entail.

the next road race is july 15th’s olomana road race, a three mile course of rolling hills multiplied by twelve. that is approximately thirty-five miles at race pace - should be grand times.

working bicycle messenger scotty mcnally recently got a titanium front rack. similar to the rack on my commuter, scotty’s is designed with extra tubing to compensate for the lack of a front brake. scotty also happens to live nearby, and called me immediately to go ride bicycles with good beer resting on his contemporary rack.

I probably need to sweat out some toxins this week.

Long Way From Home.

photos from new cover art for old doors.

A Black House, A Coloured Home.

But You Still Had Friends.

there are very few people one can depend on in a moment a crisis. when I crashed my work/only bicycle and was left momentarily unemployed - being a bicycle messenger without a bicycle - john hamilton readily loaned me his bomber pro for nearly a week. john is terrible at responding to most inquiries but when necessary, he is the best goddamn friend to have on your side.

when I asked john to help out during The Great Kalihi Cargo Haul in march, he was at the warehouse before my party arrived at 6AM. and then john stayed until the conclusion of the event despite not sleeping at all the previous evening. he did so voluntarily - and without any visible incentive. gone are the days where the constructing bunk beds in frosh dorms was considered an achievement.

You Are A Tourist.

...only one more month of internet connection failures.

It Took A Life Span With No Cellmate.

(photo by ilana nimz)

It's Good To Hear Your Voice, You Know It's Been So Long.

the kid with the shaggy hair stood in front of the neighborhood coffee shop with his bicycle. it was a beautiful road bicycle - lugged steel, overtly long cables, and stocky 27-inch tires. he was soon joined by a girl, on an equally gorgeous fixed gear conversion bicycle - custom painted. the twosome reminded me of the friendships I made while in college. it was a time when all my friends built their bicycles out of miscellaneous parts and if it rolled forward we would ride throughout town as if the city were paved with golden bike lanes.

what the funk changed - at what point did we all stop riding hastily built and/or donated bicycles? the last time I ventured to the university many of the bicycle racks were adorned with boutique bicycles that seemed to be funded by the banks of dubai. there were still department store beach cruisers, but there was nary the sight of a bicycle put together in a garage.

since zebulon brown’s temporary relocation to san diego, I have been without a consistent riding partner. coupled with the purchase of a kinetic trainer, there has been minimal outdoor cycling besides commuting and the occasional cambiamento d’ andaturo team ride. this weekend I finally began doing laps on tantalus - having not done so since spring - and it was pure sufferfest. despite all the weeks zeb and I rode the hill, the prolonged departure had exposed the weakness of my condition.

but goodness gracious did the suffering feel good. and despite my fatigue I noticed that I had managed to do most of the laps with a much taller cog then previously. summer has arrived, and it's apparently time to take the bicycles off the trainers (photo by jorge portillo).

Up, Down, Turn Around.