Paris Mountain Downhill Race and Dagwood Is Executed For War Crimes

Attention local shops who deal with inside sales-playboy Colin on a weekly basis: the man who never met a McDonald's menu item he didn't like is throwing his hat into the expert class ring at this weekend's Paris Mountain downhill race. His Kona is tuned, his helmet is freshly polished, Schwarzenegger impersonation is dialed in and his trousers are 80 percent excrement free! This looks like it's shaping up to be a gnartastic happening. Put down that hot pocket grandpa and go get your heckle on! Better yet, step up to the plate and sign up for what could be the race/epic never-ending crash of your life! Just look at the Brado-styled graphic! Just look at that sponsor list! Jeepers creepers!

Treeshaken

For the ladies...

Another weekend has come and gone and we're looking eye to eye with our old friend Monday. "Hello Monday. Allow me to introduce myself" KARATE CHOP TO THE SCAPULA! SCISSOR KICK TO THE THROAT! Now that we've gotten the sucker-chop pleasantries out of the way, let me re-cap Saturday's 12 Hour Treeshaker Race:
Joshie, Will, Teenwolf and The Blog showed up at Anne Spring Greenway with racing on the agenda and bald eagle freedom with a photoshopped american flag in the background on our minds. Wolf and Joshie were in the 12 hour solo while Will and myself were in single speed, on the smooth tip. Conditions were "tricky" during the first few laps as moisture the evening/morning before had made every off-camber root an exercise in split second corrections and "that was close" inner exclamations. During the first lap, I could tell my legs weren't close to 100 percent. They were tired and sluggish from commuting to work and my personal masseuse quitting because of "creative differences". Same thing happened to Queensryche. Oh well, no worries as most of the crew had already started to transition to cyclocross season and what better way to train for compressed intensity than a 12 hour race? The rest of the day is a blur, including the Queensryche. It was humid and warm. I ate two gels in the first 5 hours then binged on Pringles, pita bread, brownies and luke warm Pepsi. My camelback nozzle kept a slow drip of Heed going throughout the day so after 8 hours, my legs were caked in a black, putty-like substance coated with a nacreous finish that resembled freshly paved asphalt. Fellow blogger Billy was so taken by the way the light was reflecting off the accumulated resin that he took a few snaps. For more insanity, check out Billy's blog. There's also some bike-related stuff on there too but mostly insanity. Jim (purchasing fauntleroy) showed up for a few hours with his wonderdog Annabelle. Then Eric from Cane Creek resigned as our director sportif. After that bit of drama, former Hawler Brandon rode 13 laps and snagged 3rd place! Then everybody left. The end? Not quite. On the drive home, I stopped at a Starbucks and paid 1.87 for a cup of coffee that tasted like it was brewed during the Eisenhower presidency. It was black and had the viscosity of tar, but it tasted like a nine year old dish sponge in a high school cafeteria's sink. In other words, they scraped the crud off my leg, strained some hot water through it and served it to me, after taking my money. All in all, it was a grand day of racing. Here are some pics of Joshie and my leg-crud. Thanks to Billy for some of these... Oh yeah, it was fun chatting with all the good folk racing, like the cat on the Niner from Appalachian State, the guy in the Cape Fear cycling jersey who ping ponged off the trees and the kid on the 24 inch wheeled Scott. Good times!


Of note: Brandi's debut on the blog. Metallica font on the trailer:

A Brief Reminder....

Treeshaker 12 Hour is in horrible, er beautiful (?) Fort Mill, SC tomorrow morning. The weather looks like it could turn crappy so come out and heckle the "mud people" riding around in circles. Also come by and hob nob with Hawley glitterati and some riff-raff from Cane Creek and a few others who are of little to no importance. There won't be schawg but there may be hamburgers and root beer! The big question is, will Colin Tice represent the Hawley inside sales department and register at the least second or sit in his cold, lonely, feculent apartment all weekend watching Schwarzenegger movies???

Andy Hale, knee-deep in East Coast demo madness with Smokey Mountain Red sent The Blog this blurry snapshot of the new Thomson colored stem faceplates. They look snazzy Andy! By they way, could you send a picture that isn't blurry for once???

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A Non-Double Down Post

Thursday is usually the slowest day in the Hawley offices. Steve's favorite animal is the three-toed sloth and demands his employees pay tribute to its uh, slothfulness. "Quit typing so fast!" "You there, walk like you're moving in slow motion!" "Jiminy Crickets! For the love of sloth, will you please slow dowwwwnnnn!" are often heard ringing through the hall ways. To prepare for this day, we try and do activities that require some sort of "fast movement" the night before. In our case last night, it was a solid 45 minutes of cyclocross practice at Joshie's crib. Joshie lives in the middle of nowhere on several acres of sandy grass so it makes a great spot to work on our cross skills.

Joshie negotiates bamboo barrier number 1:
And easily over number 2:
Pink Lizard Skins handlebar tape, the new hotness for October (HDTP1607 for those of you playing along in our online/print catalog):

The Blog is still having issues managing barriers and sure enough, an arm muscle was strained on a botched barrier attempt. I really need to remember to get some stretching in before these masochism sessions. Perhaps we'll have better luck at this weekend's Treeshaker 12 hour race. Maybe not! Former Hawley stooge Brandon Caskey is flying in from Tahoe after setting the west coast single speed scene on fire this year. Should be interesting to see how he copes with things like roots,moisture and CHUDs. Oh man, my arm sure does hurt!!!! So yeah, Julie sent me a link to one of the better websites out there devoted to food and those who push its limits. All that talk of the DOUBLE DOWN must've stirred something within her. Perhaps some of these wonderful dishes will stir something in you, other than abject disgust for all things food-related...

THE QUADRUPLE DOWN!

"It puts the Troy in the box."

Yeah, Troy, you know what time it is....It's time to get in a box.

Step 1: You put a Troy in a box

Step 2: You ask him if likes the box

Step 3: You watch him talk in circles in the Box....



Now, not being one to be outdone, Tony "oolaak (Mayan for "almost")" Zanca had to see if he could fit in the glass cube of enlightenment. Little did he he know, his trials had only just begun....

I ran outside and caught the first baby Black Mamba I could find. Good thing I had my polo helmet on in case of a head strike.

Knowing how much the Canis Adolesentus fears venomous snakes, I tossed it in and let the fireworks begin. Now dont be fooled. He is not laughing in the picture. He is showing his teeth in fear. The strain on his hummingbird heart was too much. He had a nervous breakdown right there on the floor, with Michael still blowing mouthfuls of smoke from his opium pipe.

I finally wrestled him out of his "woom ub scawy phings" and we lobotomized him. He now sits at his desk and stares at an image of Chuck Norris or "My Heeeewoooo" in his slurred speech. Rest easy Sweet Zanca. Soon you will be back to normal. You'll be processing web orders and doing your "one-handed clap" trick in no time.

During is recovery, he will be riding this sweet little budget ride from Workman Cycles. The low seat and coaster brake should make this marginally operable for Zanca during recovery.

Tim "Action" Welborn had a special message for Tony to inspire him:

"meow, meow-meow, meow meow meows' meow meow..........meow!!!"

Thank you Tim, you know how to cut me to the core. By the way, that jersey rocks!!

What Killed Luther Vandross? Thomson Seatpost Collars?

(possible murder weapons)

Well, this is just a guess and probably contrary to the autopsies and "medical data" provided by so-called "professionals", but The Blog thinks the cause of Mr Vandross's untimely demise was the LUTHER BURGER, which was freaking named after the guy because he apparently invented it, no doubt through some sort of black magic or alchemy. What planet is this thing from? Why would this thing "occur"? Vandross was a huge music superstar, why would he need to etch his name in the annals of culinary infamy??? I only stumbled upon this was after a fruitless search for bona fide nutritional information about my beloved mythological DOUBLE DOWN!

Behold, some quasi-concrete numbers from a bunch of freaks in Vancouver (of all places). No nutritional information for this abomination, but the photo has raised several eyebrows (in addition to cholesterol).

Sadly, while the DOUBLE DOWN is a work of art, a creation born of labor and love, the McGangbang is nothing more than a Frankenstein-ian amalgam-hodgepodge lacking the creativity and inspiration that elevates the mundane to the sublime. It displeases me. HEAVE HO! On a related note, The Blog has been suffering though a chest cold all weekend so yesterday's post was preempted because I was lying in bed manufacturing thoracic milkshakes for 13 hours. Best way to get rid of the lung butter? Ride into work. The ride took 45 minutes longer than usual, but I was soon launching loogie after loogie (type A. compacted bolus). Rolling up the Knox Abbott bike lane, a kindly business was nice enough to have its sprinklers shooting directly into traffic.

We won't name the business, but isn't there a law against this kind of buffoonery? First, it was raining and their sprinklers were going full blast. Second, they were going full blast into any pedestrian or bike rider who happened to be passing by (me!). Prepare the full blast email complaint.


By the way, the much-delayed Thomson seat post collars have started to trickle in. Lots of tinkering and jiggering followed by re-jiggering went into these seemingly innocuous trinkets (the reason for the delay, one would assume). If you ride a Thomson seat post, there is absolutely no reason not to have this girding its shaft. It weighs 29 grams, which is only 2 grams less than the total fat in a DOUBLE DOWN! Scissor me timbers!

"I said sram, be it! Get outta here!"

Thank the maker it's Friday! On the ride into work this morning, The Blog found its cassette copy of New Order's "Low Life" and decided that it really isn't that bad and has a few hidden gems on it besides the "Love Vigilantes" tune which is played out as far as all things New Order go. Although we don't distribute cassette tape rock, we distribute the parts that have been imbued with cassette tape rock properties and as was alluded to yesterday, that would include the new Sram XX group.


(Machined goodness. The cassette is the baby, numba one stunna of this group)

Wind of it travelled to the graphics department and Joshie was soon admiring the new bits. What can I say, they're beyond awesome and when my knees finally give out from single speeding, it might be time to invest in the Rolls Royce of geared grouping. Also, Joshie was caught admiring some sales office baby shower madness later that day in honor of Mr and Mrs D-Rod. What can you do? That bespectacled fella is everywhere!


The New World Order in dollar bill form:The New Order in audio form:

You Can't Spell "XXX" Without "XX"; Old World Cyclocross

Well, let's get to the heart of the matter from the get go and quit beating around the proverbial bush. Sram XX just arrived off of a giant truck 'pert near 30 seconds ago and as these nimble fingers type these words, our crack receiving staff is busily stowing them away in our cavernous warehouse. All hands on deck shop owners as this fresh batch of goodies will go quick. Heed the blaring sirens of the Srambulance and acquaint thyselves with the future... the future of componentry.

In addition to all this Sramsense, the cyclocross season arrives in full force this weekend with races cranking up in Tennessee and Georgia. So this means if you haven't ponied up the dough for your Grifos or Flexus Cubus(s) and FSA canti's then time is a-tickin'. Handmade tires take a long time to make. Each one is carved from a huge slab of rubber by Eastern European craftsmen with courageous handlebar mustaches and eyeglasses with 1X10,000 magnification capabilities. They drink milk with vodka, eat cod herring for breakfast and laugh at bawdy songs about stout-hearted women who wear kerchiefs and carry firewood upon their backs as their youngest child practices his cross dismount in 6 inches of snow and mud. 'Tis a hard but rewarding life! Reward their hard work by donning a pair on your cross wheelset and immerse yourself in the Euro-goodness.
European Craftsmanship for Lazy American Pretty Boy:Before The Blog scream-types "GOOD DAY SIR!", a tiny nugget of anti-bicycle insanity sent to me by Lil' E up at The Creek. Seriously, there is nothing to say about this screed because it is so laughably insane but a bit unsettling as you know there are maniacs like this populating our roads. Click the pic to read the rant...

Recent findings.....

Behind Bridal Veil Falls at Dupont after 3 inches of rain.

"Raja", the Dwarf Lioness. (Pre-shapeshift)

The new fraternity fashion: Velcro laces. Spied at Great Clips.


Mermaid hood-art done completely in White-Out. Awesome!

"you need a manicure, Jose Carlo"

Interpysche: i Did Not Attend

Well gentle reader, stories of Interbike debauch have been trickling in. The general theme has something to do with meeting people by coincidence, ingesting foodstuffs provided free of charge, and not having time to visit all the booths. After a cursory verbal survey of the purchasing department, it looks like Hawley might be adding a handful of very interesting vendors for 2010. Does the name GENERAL FREAKIN' MOTORS ring any bells? Just kidding, we didn't buy them but have profound admiration for the town that Robocop built (and subsequently destroyed). But enough about imaginary corporate acquisitions and Peter Weller. It appears Dave G. espied a Storck out west... on top of a ROLLS ROYCE!

Did The Blog just blow your mind? Carmen and Jose espied Dave J. from Jett and Mafia Racing and subsequently chowed down on hamburgers at Crossvegas. Then the Hawley crew espied the V'Kittens at the Thursday night crit race. They took the team overall for the season (I think). Lots of high fives and Andy slapping all around.

Eleven81 sponsored Team Mountain Khaki rider Mark Hekman won the US national Crit series overall. How about that? Pretty wacky! Big thanks to Bruce and Brittany for not knowing that I was lifting these photos from thier harddrive.

Brittany tries her first Bug Guts at Crossvegas. She is making the "I want to shoot myself in the head" hand gesture and not the Highlander "In the end there can be only one" gang sign:

Teenwolf exchanges paper money for goods and services... FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS LIFE:
Bob Roll and Andy, 5 seconds before the second best pepper spraying of 2009 occured:
The VK crew with Andy and Brittany.I think I see some Singleworks font in the background!
The Hawley Crew: L to R: Fibinacci the Mentalist, Nurse Flamingo, Spruce Goose, Knuckle Sandwich McGee, Lonnie the Landlubber From Another Dimension, Professor Radical The Woman Whose Hair Catches Fire: