Most cyclists. At most events. Most of the time, are men. Most calendars. On most walls. Most of the time, are women. Scantily and all. MudBunnies. Misfit Psycles decided to change this. By not changing it. Because scantily clad men are of no use to anyone if everyone is being honest. Instead. By reintroducing the MISFIT MVP trading card series. Our choices for 2012 are...lesser...in variety, stature, appeal, charisma, ...
Earlier, I found my(personal)self embroiled, ensnared by entangulation even, in the violent clutches of a Corporate Psycles drama. The culmination of a (month long) battle over tolerance, compliance and general dis-order. A drama so dramatized that feelings, feelings I knew not I had, were awoken. Some were agitated. Others, violated. Many merely wandered the hallowed halls seeking refuge within memories of past triumphs gone (less) awry. A struggle ...
Not because I had one. 2012 Peter was entirely unhung. Facts being as they were (or where not dependant on perspective), what my leisurely solo stroll up 4 O'Clock Rd didn't flush out - my swim to the front door certainly did. Further validating a prior Darwinian order, I shall not ever (perhaps and forever never) be left all and alone to face life-like-tasks. Incapable of simplicity, I will and do, find ...
Fin. Ordinarily there'd be much to say about this. As the beer stands. There isn't. Nothing that can't wait. Basically. "PETER PACE" for the stage. Save a few elites that is. Peter pace? That's where people with significantly more talent ride at the outer limits of my maximum velocity for a few hours. They ride, they wait. I chase. Chase some more. All things being of the equal this was ...
Wheeler Stage. Big hiking. Big descending. In between, a pristine alpine (marsh) wilderness...inexplicably placed and entirely unappreciable. But. Generally rideable. In a fit of typicality, I unintentionally (and abruptly) dismounted. Uninjured, I dusted off and pedalled towards the next wall. Not until I attempted to document the second peak did I notice mi-iPhone had been ejected. I looked down. To the spot. Way down. I considered replacement cost. Hassle ...
This well and could be a long (stage) report. But it won't be. If it was, left to it's own devices that is, it'd be so full of bullshit that you wouldn't believe a word of the real shit that follows. You'll just have to take my word for it. Stage 4 was a big-boy day. A stage which, in the past, I have excelled at (of course I use this ...
I'm le tired. No rain. No shit. The people in the following photo looked stupid. As such, they have been removed. What remains is the view from 12,100'. In bigger news: Stage Three 2012 saw the successful completion of Broke Hip Mountain. In a moment of fleeting honesty, I will admit, it wasn't all and entirely intentional. As the deathy black gulch approached with near lightening speed, I veered slightly to ...
The Good - Emergency measures were enacted to ensure favourable ventilation of our room. Little to no fecal gas was inhaled. I no longer needed to struggle haplessly down from the top bunk, with practice and a flip and a flitter I dismounted directly into an ill-placed pile of wet gear. Thrice. After adding an additional washer to the HIVE/E13 POS (and crushing the living fuck out of the ...
Short Wind: Stage One of the BRECK EPIC is done. Not the most climbing and not the longest day of what's to come. Essentially, some time passed, most of which I made the worst of. In the end, many and many people better than I went faster. Long Wind: I slept on a bunk, on a tiny mattress, without a ladder. By no means am I an active sleeper. But. ...
Like the most, I have grown accustomed to enduring tales of whoa whilst travelling. Todays adventures where of the not sort. No lines. No attitudes. No problems. Aside from the majority of this time, which I invested in boredom, I had an opportunity to finalize most all the necessary calculations. Calculations that, while meaningless, would result in thoughts, some of which motivated me towards a process of action that would (...
I have been asked. Requested. Required. To submit THREE to FIVE selected writings for further consideration. These submitted works will determine if and how much the occupants of Wright can eat for the next six months. These submitted works will be hosted on the great and official PETER-PAGE for forever and posterity. These submitted works... Should be original - at least in the sense that they were not entirely cut ...
Officially and openly speaking. There is no singular part of me or my that is ready to depart for Breckenridge this up and coming Saturday morning. Save perhaps my vastly improved tolerance to clear alcohols. My lack of preparedness has even (very recently) been challenged by the enactment of the ultimately impending in advance of any opportunity. Better the now as they say... Foremostly. The four of you FacePeople that ...
The Genuine, Official and Exclusive Misfit Psycles Corporate FacePage has earned yet and another follower worthy of note this week: What does this all mean? FREE SHIPPING TO GOTHAM.
We (being I) have entered the final stage of preparations for this months impending trifecta; BRECK EPIC SSSRWC CELEBRITY ROAST Flights, acquired. Accommodations, made. Equipment, well in process... As you might recall, on July 31 I appealed for assistance, hours later actions were enacted and by August 3 I can affirmatively confirm that I indeed have (most) of what I need in order to be done. Most. Most because the wheels were (...
Within an hour of yesterdays post, Stan's NoTubes answered. Introductions made, digits exchanged, words spoken, questions asked and heads scratched. Stan-service was most knowledgable, predictably, but they also proved excellent in the art of (re)direction. Repeatedly and oft (re)focusing my stabby wit back and unto the more relevant Stan-facts of note. This epic Corporate summit ultimately culminated in decisions being decided and declarations being declared. Mere hours thereafter, ...