sometimes yer cousin is cute enough...

we've had some amazing weather here in Nashvegas.  just the other day i was sitting in a parking lot in shorts and a tshirt with shep eating pie.  as far as i know, there was only one report of a bear in the area, but i never saw it.

now, this is how it works in this here part of north amurika.  in the winter, we'll have a couple warm days, then some cold ones, then unseasonably warm days which are actually seasonal but we don't remember it happening every year so it's called unseasonable, followed by ice.

yes, ice.  we get ice.  snow once in a great while, and typically no more than an inch or two to scratch the itch of missing the powdering happy.  and being from north of the Mason Dixon line gives one not only a completely different outlook on frozen precipitation, it also makes for a contrasting driving ability than the locals have honed.

so today... ice ice baby.

now, when there is ice on the horizon, these people go apeshit.  hell, after the flood a couple years ago, if we get heavy rain people start to worry.  so when team coverage of the four horsemen marching in armed with snow blowers and Icee machines floods the airwaves, it makes this:

look like this:

(cred for this photo belongs to somebody named Cody Biffle)

...and that's where i start to cock my head and get that confused puppy look.  sure, light snow is self explanitory, and i totally get the run for booze.  a run for booze has very little to do with the impending doom of 40hours of cold and wet, but if i'ma gunna be stuck in my home for enough days that i'm going to need to buy milk, milk ain't gunna solve a fucking thing and 100% of that money should be spent on booze, period.  in fact, should you not just have staples stocked up just in case it actually really is an emergency?

seriously, what if you find yourself trapped for a week with some fugly chick?  or you just happen to be a lady and the next seven days of your life are going to be spent in a 1300 square foot bungalow with some - still wearing a sweater vest even though he took his shirt off knuckle dragging neanderthal - that even after a shower still retains that musky aroma.  shit, what if it's your cute ass third cousin three times removed?

boredom will eventually set in, and there's a reason more babies are born nine months after a big winter storm than any other time of the year.  so no matter what the scenerio, you'll need some liquid courage loooong before you are ever going to need one single drop of moo juice.  unless you only drink white russains, then you'll puke before you get drunk enough to pinky swear you will never talk about this again.

cuz sometimes extreme circumstances calls for extreme measures, and i would hate to think a little ice cost you a limb.

cobblers kids get new shoes

did some work on my bikes the other night.  the 2speed needed front bearings, bad.  felt like gravel.  so bad it was embarrassing.  it was time.  and this is what it looked like.

 

if you made it this far, thank you.

the bearings on one side were so trashed, the removal tool failed to remove the entire cartridge leaving the outer race still in the hub shell.  the 12mm open end wrench did not damage the hub shell by prying around the clock.

dead mammals and elusive machines

i think this one is going to an aunt?  maybe?  can't remember, but shep and i ran into chris after finishing a couple slices and beers for his birthday.  chris was doing the same thing, just about a half hour behind.  he didn't know it was shep's burfday.  then he was heading to the post office to mail a pocket full of these puppies to people he loves enough to bestow these upon them.  we like chris.

later on, i took a picture of a smashed squirrel for you to enjoy.

someone will thinks it's art.

once the sun turned round the corner to heat up things on the other side, i teamed up with Glitter Gravel to check out the new B-cycle bike share bicycles.  slide yer card for $5.00 and get 24 hours of three speed, roller cam flavor, that works.  we rolled around downtown, hoping a few curbs, attempting a couple wall rides and grinds, and launching staircases with reckless abandon.  it wasn't until we pulled off the tandem power slide off the loading dock that we decided the bikes had had enough, and figured the bikes had as well.  not really.  but we did pedal around the downtown area, up and over the pedestrian bridge (took the elevator back up from the other side), and returned them to their rightful place at another station and walked back to where we started.

i have to say, the only thing about them that i could nit pick at all is the weight, but in order to be certain the bikes can handle whomever decides its a nice day for a bicycle ride, whether it be a couple hooligans looking for ramps, or elderly looking for an easier way to get around, they have to be way over built to withstand most anything.

we both agreed, as personally we would ride a the highest gear most of the time, the gearing is in fact low enough to accommodate most anyone with the ability to handle anything they're abilities will allow.  never mind the fact that with so many stations around the downtown area, and at the tops and bottoms of hills, you could get to the bottom of a hill or top, return it at the station there, and walk or bus to grab another bike down the road.  well thought out, planned and executed.

yesterday afternoon, on my way back from the motorcycle shop, i ran into some dude who lives in nashy and just jumped on one to check it out.  he was having an absolute blast!  good job nashville, bravo.  so get your lazy ass out there and drop $5.00 and go for a ride!

then there was Music City Cycling's impromptu Red Bench Ride celebrating Ben's burfday.  this is a regulalry scheduled program that happenes almost weekly during the warmer months.  they all meet at this single and particular red bench on the corner of two mainer type roads, then chase each other to the first beer stop, then the next, and this carries on until the last man standing decides its time to just go home, leaving a wake of tight pants and colorways in a wretched heap behind.

this was spacial.  besides the ass under glass, getting yelled out for swearing and smoking, then a regular all but trying to fight one of them fixie hipster kids about pissing the bathroom, it was a great night of riding bikes, drinking beer, and all around bicycle funs and stuffs.

tired of doing the same old team kit rides, chasing your powertap and strava KOM and just want to drink.ride.?  join these kids on sunday the 27th, unless you're Teen Wolf, for january's Full Moon Ride.

     "A monthly bike ride.
       Relaxed ride to a spot to enjoy the moon.
       Dress warm.
       Bring lights.
       Feel free to bring your flask."

probably not something you would want to miss.

then there's these robots.  they're around.  i want to figure it out...

keep it in the family

well, it turns out that my family tree has a few things that maybe might explain a few things.

the Hensley settlement, found in Harlen County Kentucky.  in 1903, the Hensley family settled atop Brush Mountain, forsaking settled areas for an entirely self-sufficient way of life. this truly rural Appalachian settlement continued, without electricity, indoor plumbing, roads or any modern conveniences until the last inhabitant left in 1951.  that's where my dad's dad grew up.and it turns out they weren't much for the tax man, the law, or anyone telling them what to do, where to go, or how to be.

kinda feel like that's just about right...

which leads us to this gentlemen.

meet George Went Hensley.  seems not only do i share the sirname of this individual, but he the same bloodline.  George was very religous, to the piont he came to believe that the New Testament commanded all Christians to handle venomous snakes.  yup, that's right.  this great uncle of mine brought to the forfront the belief that swingin' a viper above your head gets you closer to god, and by criekie, he died from a snake bite.  imagine that?  the fun part was asking my dad if this was true.  yeah, the shaking of his head, along with the smirk gave me all i needed to know.

so i've been trying to figure out how someone could convince me that between the sermon, the prayer, the tithe, and baptism, the one thing missing was a fistfull of cold blooded, slithering, fang adorned and armed with spit that will turn your blood into red crisco, and they are likely not only pissed off from bein' shaken like a tamborine, but full of piss and venom and every intent of getting that all over me and all in me in the largest amount of volume possible.

i just don't get it.  like, how awful does that have to be.  holy shit!  damn!  

well, now i am totally feaked out.  and with that, i'm gunna sit back, have myself a drink, and listen to a little something that can help take my mind off of it...

damnit!

straight up marketing

Music City Cycling's current leader bean, Dave Theanal, is the owner/operator/proprieter and dish washer of RUSH Bicycle Messengers, Nashvegas'ez ONE and ONLY 100% all bicycle messenger service.  RUSH just had their first anniversary, and i could not be happier.  and for the last year, they either walk it, or ride it, from where they snatch yer letter, to where they drop yer magazines.  yes, that is correct.  RUSH handles the distribution of Native Magazine... by bicycle.

Surly trailers and pumpin quads bring this publication to all over the city for you to enjoy, for free, every single time.  and both companies are growing like mold on a good piece of cheese hiding behind the spicy jelly, way on in the back of the fridge.

...and that's what i did friday afternoon.  i figured it'd be cool to help out once i got all my chores done and toys put away.  i jumped aboard the best tool for the job and headed over the river and through the hood depositing some here and some there and others everywheres.  like a bumble bee in a sea of dandelions, two loads haulin' 'em radial lace style throughout this fifth of town.  shortly after the start of the start of the second lap, you realize what yer in for.  you'll eat a sandwich or fourteen before you finish up.

the businesses that stock are all quite happy to see you show up, and a few times people would come over while i was unpacking them for display to grab one.  one time, i felt like i was doling out 99% pure crank around the corner from the clinic.  they sure were excited.  and i'm straight up not making fun, for once.  in fact, i think it is fuckin' awesome people were that excited.   ...but i wonder what it's like at their house when the spouse/room mate/boyfriend/girlfriend/goatfriend shows up with unexpected cake?  or even cake they knew was coming, but not exactly which day.  i bet it's fun.

was it fun?  well hell's yeah it was.  and like mowing the lawn, cutting down tress, or diggin' ditches, it was one of those things that makes beer just taste better.  the looks from people driving by, to the dude in the dump truck haulin' a caterpillar letting me know my load had shifted (people with trailers look out for people with trailers, like truckers), the looks and smiles from people thinking i was either completely stupid, homeless, or insane kept me going all damn day.

the evening closed in with a quick shit-shower-shave-shampoo, and a six pack of Yuengling Porter... which miraculously became a five pack shortly after i arrived home.

a moment of silence please.

thank you.

and with that, please, enjoy some cake.

its a long way, to the top if you want to rock and roll

yesterday morning was DK's "Buds and Buds Birthday Ride", taking place on his birthday, of all days.  This is the second annual, and i have been lucky to be a part of last years as well.  and last year, what shep brought to the party besides fun, was some blood from his nose and a few minutes of wondering what was going on.  good times indeed.  definately to be repeated.

this year had a little more meaning.  DK's 18 year old dog, buddy, loved one, partner in life, and savior, had to be put down wednesday after a long fight with cancer, and that pup fuckin' fought.  the ride was to honor Red Boy as well.  i like very few dogs, the ones i do either understand enough english that when you tell them no, they get it, or the ones that act like cats.  i really like cats.  that's why i'm on instagram like the rest of these feline fanatics.  dog's very rarely have a "fuck you look".  that's how cats wake up.  i respect that.  Red minded when it was important, but also did what he wanted.  perfect mix.

the laughter and air guitar to the original black bars kept the mood smooth, never mind the mimosas and chilled, creamy bourbon's ability to calm most any situation.  coffee and colorful bites brought smiles around the table as we prepared for the morning roll out under sunny skies and just above freezing temps.  with a familiar route, and extra time, we took the opportunity to do a little exploring, finding new things in old places, and destinations for future endeavors.

i. love. riding. with. DK.  many moons ago, when we were on the same schedule, we'd go mountain biking all the time.  chasing after each other with wreckless abandon, tearing through the woods like mad men.  pushing our speed, luck, and abilities until reaching the beginnings of crashing.

so far beyond reasonable measure, there would be this moment that everything just slowed down, as if impending pause was overcoming us.  a breath from complete and total loss of control, the motions of plummeting into whatever lay before us with the veracity of a trebuchet.  blood pressure and heart rate maxed, vision pulled taunt and piercing, an unconcious flex of a muscle would pull you from the cusp of disconnection.

exhale brought awaking from a dream.  colors would change to a more timid hue, breath would calm, and all tension would lift and float away.  a glance at each other, and without a word, it would end right there.  sometimes one lap, sometimes three, but we always pushed to that edge.  the goal was to reach this state, and remain as long as possible.  it was art.

we did not do that this day.  nope.  we just chatted and pedaled and hung out and played on a waterfall.  a couple charges, but they amounted to nothing more than waiting for the others to catch up.  there was to be none of that.  we were riding together.

once we arrived back from our loop, lunch was waiting on us, along with deserts, other amenities, and more booze.  it was a great way for friends to honor both DK and Red, and it meant more than words.

here is a pictorial of a few of the morning's enjoyments.

 

 

 

celebrate life.

starting the year off left

my new years eve started as i headed over to sheps to swap some booze and babysitting for a turn at the laundry facilities.  fair trade, trust me.  i ain't all that good at laundry, and it's much more fun to play with his kids instead of the children at the laundry mat.  you get the darn-dest glares when you do that.  not sure why that isn't acceptable, but whatever.  oddly enough, i get the same look at Chuck E Cheese.

i digress...  deep within the confines of a  4 and 8 year old that have been out of school for more than a week and always enjoy an audience, overfilling the dryer, having a few too many, and forgetting something else i still can't remember, i was introduced to something my red draped eyes had never witnessed:

that would be blackberry jam and honey glazed ham on wheat with the crust cut-off.  no, i did not try it.  the smaller of the two chill-rens seemed to enjoy the shit out of it.  as you can see, no shit in sight.  i wanted to share this, cuz i thought it was kinda gross.  and that was the highlight of that.

shortly after, i made my way outta his house, and on the way back to my huas.

rivaling kris kringle, i jumped on my coaster deuce and headed out for the new years eve late afternoon ride home.  luckily, it was around 4:00pm, and most everyone out was frantically attempting to procure food booze hookers drugs fireworks puppies diapers handsanitizer condoms and crack.  knowing better than to even think about getting involved with those lemmings on any main roads, i took the twisty turny safety route through the hood.  the temps had dropped and with a million pounds of hot laundry on my back, i was rather chipper to say the least.  ...and that's when it happened. 

some one lost their tree, right in the middle of... well, you know that exact spot.  dead center of the apex of a blind turn going downhill.  the location of the instant you stand up and charge into the transition, for it turns skyward just a few pedal strokes around the bend and losing momentum makes for a shitty ascent.  and with my bag exploding with the girth and weight of freshly cleaned and dried clothes, i was really haulin' ass.  oh what fun.  (photo is a recreation cuz ifin i had my camera in my hand, there would be a lot more red stuff and and torn stuff and hospital looking stuff in this here post)

the moral of this story:  tie your shit down you idiots.  it's a fucking tree.  not a mattress.

so i drug it out of the road and went on my merry way to complete the next task for the evening...

being smarter than the average bear when it comes to procuring libations, and knowing that there is an art to getting in and out quicker than the first time you got a chance with your girlfriend in her parents house, i took a brisk stroll down the road and collected the things that help me get through the day without choking the shit out of somebody that really needs it.  and seein' as how i get so much joy from those who publish job losing, marriage ending, incarcerating, gunna wake up with warts on yer junk pics, i know better than to share mine.  so that's all you get.

the first day of the new year i awoke to a short drive to a pleasant breakfast, followed by a long drive to the start of a gravel ride.  old buddy Bryan has been putting them together for quite some time, and his success is really making waves.  and as with most group rides composed of people that like to have fun more than they like to be assholes, it was just a great time.

the scenery was beautiful, the gravel slick and wet, and the air cold and drizzly.  it had rained on and on and on and off and on for the last few days making the typical quick splashes much more enjoyable in the summer.  the mud puddles were thick and zesty, the climbs slimy to the point walking happened, and the descents fast and thrilling.  whether weather worried weary souls, our mettle was metal and we all should get medals for meddling in the muddy messy menage. yeah, say that three times...

only once did we stop in our tracks with mother natures dirty shower water higher than bottom brackets.  and not only did i not want wet shoes, i'm riding record and am unemployed.  so two of us males decided it would make more sense to remove our dry and warm foot gear, save some money on bearings, and just saunter across.

and with all of the women plowing through like there was a clearance sale on the other side, our masculinity was challenged.  you ladies rock!  and don't you forget it.

all in all i started the next year of my life riding high and sinking low with people who like to do the same things, i guess.  well... they like riding bicycles and drinking beer, and that's good enough for me.

ifin you would like to join in with this here type of tom, dick and hairy foolery, just head on over to fakebook and give a shout to Bryan.   the more the merrier they say, whoever the hell they is.