Monthly Archives: April 2008

Thick Head

I don’t know how it got me, but man, Juancho is ill. Not so sick that I can’t get out of bed, just sick enough to wish I was back in bed. It might have been sparked by standing around in the rain on Saturday, eating crawdads like I was going to find a pearl inside one and slurping rum in celebration of a friend attaining her PhD.

Maybe it is the Southwest Florida condo cooties?

I’m going to try to throw a saddle on Trigger and ride it out of me later today, but I just don’t know.

I need to rest anyway since Mystery the Untameable Stallion aka Cupcake and I are heading north for our annual Spring adventure on Saturday. Being lost and miserable on rock or trail is exhausting and I can’t afford to be sick when I’m scavenging for grub worms and building a shelter out of wilted rhododendrons.

Got to run, I taste a loogie coming on…


Mulberry Tree

I laid Bird out on a cold marble slab of Chess death last night, taking advantage of him in a compromised state brought about by a touch of food poisoning. I tried to make gracious excuses for him, but he quoted former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld to me and said, “You go to war with the army you have, not the army you want.”

And so you do.

I didn’t grow up with Mulberry trees, and I still don’t fully appreciate them as food. They drop their berries all over the porch, the car, everything- and I just watch them fall-detached like I am watching a television show about dropping mulberries.

Last week the boys were popping them in their mouths and remarking on the little red hairs growing from between their nodules of berry meat. It turned out those were the peeking legs of clover mites nestled deep within the folds of the Mulberries. This did nothing to improve my relationship with the Mulberry.

It seems ridiculous though, in this time of greater awareness of our food and where it comes from, to eschew the fruit that falls in your lap in favor of the bunched and bundled bounty of the grocery store- those Clementine oranges are just so appealing in their crates.

Standing underneath the Mulberry tree last night, I thought to myself, “Any day now I’m going to give one of those things a tug and pop it in my mouth.”

-because it’s a shame to watch fruit rot off the vine.


Fill in the Blank

I will be away for a few days this week. I hate to leave the circus untended, as the animals can really stink up the place, but I have a solution. The following is a template that should work for just about any given day here at the BRC, so check back and apply the necessary details as you see fit.

____________ said he did ___________ in ____________ minutes but I don’t believe him. That crazy Sasquatch, we were riding the other day and he broke his ________ and I had to fix it with a ___________, then someone called the cops because he _____________.

I was going to ride today but instead I am _____________. If I had ridden I totally would have rolled those __________ out at ________.
Back in 19__, when mountain bikers were a lot tougher I used to ________ the __________ without a __________ in the rain. Nowadays everyone is soft.

This weekend there will be a __________ at the __________, but I’m not going because that thing is dumb.

Have a great ___________,


Guess my age

No fair playing if you are my parents or otherwise related and already know my age. Here are some hints.

My first big concert event was the Prince, Purple Rain tour and I was probably slightly too young to be there.

The first president I remember is Jimmy Carter.

The last president I remember liking is Jimmy Carter.

I doubt I ever rode in a baby seat in the car, more likely I rode standing up in the back seat.

Good luck!


Thanks to Tommy Torso for a perfectly wretched ride yesterday, I really needed it. Golf out-scored riding 2 to 1 this week, and it ain’t looking good for riding today either. Fore!

This weekend brings another powerhouse of cultural events to the greater Capital City area. We are lousy with culture once again. The Scottish Highland games will be be going on north of town. I went once with the best intentions of sampling my native culture, but I was a bit off put by the staggeringly expensive beers (perhaps it was the exchange rate from Midtown to Bannerman?)

There were men throwing sheep over bales of hay and dogs herding a squealing gang of children around a field, and yet, it was all somehow lacking. Still, in theory it sounds like a good time and might be worth the $147.00.

If that doesn’t blow your kilt up, there will be an art show in the Parks downtown, also advertising a beer garden, or garten? I do like the art so you might find me down there sneering and sniffing at people’s life’s work. Good fun.

Tallahassee is hardly distinguishable from the Upper East Side (of Tampa) these days. Wine bars in the Strip Malls, Starbucks in the Target, I just hope it doesn’t affect the price of Arugula.

Tomorrow the bikeposse crew (Worm, Wreckin’ Ball, and their Zombie army) are riding sometime in the middle of the night like 8:30 A:M and then they will be sitting in a garage waiting for us to come crush them at Ping Pong. Other than that, are there any good rides on the docket? What about you out-of-towners, where will the fun be for you this weekend? Maybe I’ll join you in Uzbekistan or wherever.

And what exactly is a “docket?”


The Flashback Episode

From Bonanza to the Brady Bunch, Star Trek to Seinfeld, eventually you are going to get a flashback episode. It is a simple technique used to fill space when the writers go on strike or the budget is in the red. In this case, the writer has a lot of work to do so please enjoy this episode of…364 days ago at the BRC.

Yesterday on the trail I pulled a tick the size of a small dog- (I think it’s a Pomeranian) off of myself. The poison ivy is flourishing and thick. The recent windstorm ripped the Live Oak Connector into a mess, and that trail is always a mess anyway. It was hot too, muggy I should say.

How do I know all of this? Easy! I rode my bike.

Not very far, not very fast, but hard and with conviction and this my friends is extremely disappointing to my friend Sasquatch, who seems to think mountain biking was a passing fad. The Rubik’s Cube of last summer. The My Little Pony of last fall. Are we now supposed to move on and take up pole dancing? I hear that is the hottest thing going for the exercise-minded.

Not me ladies and gentleman. I am scrubbing down the elephants, sobering up the clowns, and whitewashing the big top in preparation for the Geatest Show on Dirt.

I’m just not sure where we will open the season this year.

Any ideas?


Posted by juancho at 8:46 AM 5 comments Links to this post
Monday, April 16, 2007
And So it Goes

Some things never change. I’m still picking on Sasquatch. I have posion ivy all over my right shin, and I’m still waiting to start my big “Season.”

Consistency helps me sleep at night.


The Worm turns…?

So Big Worm has a birthday and I have to learn about it on the internet, right beneath the article telling me that yet another hack starlet is knocked up. The indignity is too much to bear.

Who knows how old the guy is, it doesn’t really matter. Big Worm is Evergreen. Big Worm is Elvis, Checkerboard Van’s, and Chili with Frito’s- never out of style.

Amidst the partisan bickering (which I hope I can claim some credit for fomenting) Big Worm just rides along. Road, Mountain, or Motorcycle, Cobra Kai or Danny-san, technical or longbow, the Worm stands ready to ride.

He is a bike saint in waiting, if only for all the repairs he has made to Wrecking Ball’s bike on the trail.

He speaks ill of nobody, trounces the cocky, and recovers the strays.

I’m sorry, I’m getting a little choked up here…

Happy Birthday ‘Worm, we hope its a good one.


Ground up

The call came far too early yesterday morning. After a late night watching Son Volt fans push their bangs out of their eyes and nod into their beers I could have slept until Tiger’s tee time at 2:22.

I answered the phone to an excited Hambone,

“What’s up? Where are we meeting? Are you ready? Are you the ringleader?”

No sir I am not the ringleader. I am a clown, so just let me crawl into the backseat of my tiny car and go back to sleep.

Instead I lurched into the man-o-tard and eventually (after a cup of coffee and three deep sighs) the streets of Tallahassee. The air was crisp as a Bartlett pear and before I knew it I was glad to be out and about.

Once we hit the park, playtime was over and the boys were pinning the rivet, or tossing the trivet, or something like that. They were going fast. It took my entire catalogue of shortcuts to make it to the end in view of the group.

Hence the delicious burger, because I’m cooked.


Round Up

I visited our new log friend yesterday out on the Fern Trail. I thought by going solo I could session it with no pressure- and possibly die unconscious, face down in the mud. After a pedal to the shin and handlebars to the groin I am just as scared as when I had not yet attempted it. This is going to be a summer of many trials, and perhaps some sort of reckoning.

That’s OK though because it is time to scuff up your Chuck Taylors, untuck that flannel and meet me at the Son Volt show Saturday night at the Moon.

Are you White?
Over 30?
Tend Liberal?
Talk of road trips West over cans of PBR?

If so, chances are good you are a Son Volt fan. Ma and Pa Ingalls are hitching up the donkey team and double-wrapping the hardtack for a big adventure to the Capital City. They may have to bivouac along the Suwanee to let the donkeys rest, but they will make it in time. They never miss a Rendevous.

I can’t talk, I’m a fan too you see.

Thank God someone out there is interpreting and romanticizing so many of the bad decisions my generation made and lamenting about the alarming decay of our national fiber.

I will have a chance to get my indie cred warmed up at a party tomorrow night celebrating a new book by a former professor of mine who was known about town as the “Barmadillo” back in the early nineties. He reviewed bars of course, and drew pictures of stick armadillos drinking in them. His career has since faltered, as he no longer gets paid to go to bars, but must travel the world and do uncomfortable things to be paid for his writing.

I will probably spill my drink on him.

The best formerly racist and currently gender-bigoted golf event in the world occurs this weekend. That’s right, dust off the green jackets because it is time for the Master’s. Say what you want cyclists, it is the Tour de France of golf and a great excuse to enjoy a social Sunday, after a ride of course.

So Spring is reaching critical mass around here, as every hour brings word of some watershed or seminal event this weekend.

Wait for it, here comes the closing line…

With weather like this, what isn’t special?