THE LOCALS ARE PAINTING MY NAME ON THE ROADS

slamthatstem: @kingnate, of UCI International Elite Team Pat...

Sun, 21 Apr 2013 22:43:02 -0600

@kingnate, of UCI International Elite Team Pat McQuaid’s Anal Lesions p/b Festina, has an Allez that he gave internal Di2 wiring with the help of drill.

It also doesn’t have a bearing cover.

I’m still alive. And this is my bike.

castellicycling: Last day to get a @manualforspeed T...

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 21:07:28 -0600

castellicycling:

Last day to get a @manualforspeed T shirt!!

Oh, hey, go get one, look dashing like this bloke. You know, like me. http://manualforspeed.com/shop/speed/

30% grades in switchbacks. Unearth the inner Tommeke.

Mon, 14 Jan 2013 18:41:00 -0700

30% grades in switchbacks. Unearth the inner Tommeke.

— W. Somerset Maugham So swings the pendulum.

Sun, 13 Jan 2013 20:37:00 -0700

— W. Somerset Maugham

So swings the pendulum.

Not-Colombian cuisine in Colombia.

Sat, 12 Jan 2013 20:40:56 -0700

Nate: less melting pot, more Colombian food Japanese-style
Nate: it's like, look, we took Chicharron and cooked it in SOY SAUCE!
Christy: So gross.
Nate: ish
Nate: it's the original fusion.

My day. Basically.

Fri, 11 Jan 2013 16:58:04 -0700

My day. Basically.

People who disrespect the glory of breakfast deserve no place in...

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 09:10:06 -0700

People who disrespect the glory of breakfast deserve no place in history.

Whimsical suffering.

Tue, 08 Jan 2013 09:47:01 -0700

Whimsical suffering.

Pivlo…wait.

Sun, 06 Jan 2013 20:59:36 -0700

Pivlo…wait.

Truly, another world to behold at 12,500ft. Color bleeds from...

Thu, 03 Jan 2013 15:59:49 -0700

Truly, another world to behold at 12,500ft. Color bleeds from the landscape like an Ansel Adams shot, as unrequisite as the thin foliage of the air-starved peaks. The lungs and legs scream for oxygen, if for nothing but the mental solace of pushing forward at some speed more befitting an “elite” cyclist. Elite or not, when the sky touches the ground, and when one visits that juncture, experience, training, weight, and all things that should matter? They don’t. Survival here is a laborious, sedentary business, and the insignificance of pedaling a bicycle is far down a long laundry list of more pressing import.

Episode VII is drawing to a close…my taskmaster says bye.

Mon, 31 Dec 2012 19:17:35 -0700

Episode VII is drawing to a close…my taskmaster says bye.

Driving and cycling tend to occupy separate spheres of the...

Sat, 29 Dec 2012 08:52:10 -0700

Driving and cycling tend to occupy separate spheres of the time/space continuum in my mind, but in Caldas, they’re starting to meld. I was invited to a party at a finca (a country house) on Christmas Eve by some ever-hospitable Colombianos, who proceeded to treat the two lonely gringos like their own familia. I came away from the experience with two thoughts unaffected by the aguardiente and copious volumes of deep-fried deliciousness:

One, Utah Mormons (my upbringing, though no longer) and Colombian Catholics are not terribly different, save I might wager those that swing towards the Vatican vs. Salt Lake City know how to have a touch more fun. Remarkably strong family ties transcend culture, ethnicity, theology, and income. People are people, and tradition is tradition. It’s a comforting fact.

Two, and back to my original thoughts on driving; it’s impossible to get anywhere quickly in a vehicle in Caldas. As we rolled down the La Cabana climb to the finca in the two-door Landcruiser packed with seven adults, Christian and I were both cognizant that we could reach our destination twice as fast on a bicycle. In the US, distances become skewed by the vast interstate highway system, covering hundreds of kilometers in the space of a few short hours. It makes “huge” rides seem far less expeditionary and a bit more pedestrian. In Caldas, riding a mere 70km from home is considered a very long distance, even to those who own automobiles - many people I’ve met don’t know the pueblitas I ride to inside their own department. The social changes as one crosses from one cell of habitation to another 15km away are considerably vast, far more so than in the interconnected sprawl I call my home. It’s astonishing.

And on a total non-sequitur: Rare moments when the ubiquitous green box mode is the best mode - or maybe the algorithms that make the little Canon estimate sunny-16 solo are getting that good. In any case, I’d kill for a rest week with a motorcycle and my old Pentax 6x7 right about now. Or even a 5D with a 50mm, if I’m not being picky.

Christmas morning, two days late, thanks to...

Fri, 28 Dec 2012 06:27:00 -0700

Christmas morning, two days late, thanks to @rapharacing. Festive timing could have been achieved, but seems other countries aren’t so lax about customs on small shipments as the US.

Life goes on. At heart, I’m a minimalist. As such, high-end and team-edition kits tend to…well, most slightly irk my aesthetic sensibilities to a certain degree. The Pro Team kit I now have is not only visually stunning, but it’s one of the most well-made garments I own, and supremely comfortable. While Rapha initially distinguished themselves to me by utilizing marketing strategies unbeknownst to the industry, they now set themselves apart based on sheer quality as well. Consider me sold.

Not feeling very verdant today.

Thu, 27 Dec 2012 08:09:10 -0700

Not feeling very verdant today.

Staring at the summit of the Nevado del Ruiz, touching the sky...

Sun, 23 Dec 2012 20:17:00 -0700

Staring at the summit of the Nevado del Ruiz, touching the sky at almost 17,500ft, brings a sense of serene insignificance. The lofty peaks of the Andes, obscured for much of the day, reveal themselves in the early morning hours - like, as a boy, seeing my mother before she put her makeup on for the day. Unveiled, the crest of Nevado will retreat to its throne in the clouds in little more than sixty minutes, and the unenlightened will remain as such, snoring in blissful ignorance.

Sundays are for tipica, y montar a tranquilo. Mazamorra. Chicharron. Bandeja Paisa.

Cycling is my life. It’s not a bad one. In fact, it’s one I’d never dreamed of. Even scraping by on a daily basis, I feel like one of the most fortunate people on earth to be able to share it with anyone who cares to listen.

Cycling Inquisition - An American Professional's Retreat

Sat, 22 Dec 2012 09:12:13 -0700

Cycling Inquisition - An American Professional's Retreat:

I’m honored to have been interviewed by Cycling Inquisition (one of my favorite online cycling publications) about my winter adventure in Colombia. Klaus, author of the blog/native Colombian residing in the US and I share a common desire to scream to the whole world praises of this forgotten cycling paradise.

Colomiabano Evangelicos.

Give Letras an inch, and she’ll take a mile. Or just your...

Fri, 21 Dec 2012 17:26:06 -0700

Give Letras an inch, and she’ll take a mile. Or just your saddlebag.

Most of the time we just gape like awestruck kindergarteners on...

Thu, 20 Dec 2012 20:10:00 -0700

Most of the time we just gape like awestruck kindergarteners on their first Disneyland visit.

Bike riding in paradise is serious business. Flat tires are...

Thu, 20 Dec 2012 19:51:38 -0700

Bike riding in paradise is serious business. Flat tires are especially serious.

Smells like desperation. When an invite is extended to a...

Mon, 17 Dec 2012 15:20:49 -0700

Smells like desperation.

When an invite is extended to a Christmas party, my initial instinct is to bake enough cookies to fill a small UHaul. When an invite is extended to a Christmas party in a country that doesn’t believe in ovens, my second instinct is to kludge it ‘till it works. Presenting My Colombian Oven™, made possible by an abandoned (inverted) electric griddle, judicious buttering of a skillet and a gas stovetop.

Pan-sized chocolate chunk cookie not included.