Lance Armstrong Hates Satirical Costumes

...and those who wear them.

Generally, I respect Lance as a cyclist, even though I have no doubt that he dopes ("Most Tested Athelete in History notwithstanding). But doping doesn't create a champion. Obviously it helps, but his path to dominance over the rest of the (also doping field) is insane, machine-like, monomaniacal discipline and work ethic. The man has earned his titles, I would never dispute that. Beyond that, he's definitely used his fame and money for a good cause- the man has pretty much single-handedly raised millions for cancer research and treatment.

However, I don't think much of Lance the person at all- he is, by all accounts, an arrogant, domineering, diva-prick. But that very prickishness is what leads to awesome hilariousness like this scene from the Tour of Cali, where Lance confronts his doping demon:



(photographic denouement after the jump)









You can't see it in this sequence, but the syringe pitchfork-toting devil is emblazoned with "Live Clean" on the back. Take that, cancer patients!
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Light Painting

Self-portrait at a wine bar in NYC, where our awesome Siberian bartender did me the favor of understanding my stilted, mushy Russian. Practice!


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Probably my one ski adventure of this year :(

Not gonna lie...probably not going to get to any other Holiday Odyssey chapters. >.<

But as consolation, here are some pics.


Darco picking his line through the trees at Ski Santa Fe.



Me parsing the (annoyingly irregular) mogul fields.

And, to induce straight-up jealousy, this is Darco's sister's backyard:



Hidden in that cloud is the back of the ski mountain. So. Un. Fair. READ MORE! READ MORE!

Holiday Odyssey, Part One

Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story
of that (wo)man skilled in all ways of contending,
the wanderer, harried for years on end,
after (s)he plundered the stronghold
on the proud height of Troy Delta Airlines.


Yeah, yeah. It's hyperbole until you're the one spending the night in the Atlanta Airport Best Western East with bonus food poisoning courtesy of Juanito's "Mexican" "Grill" (or possibly IHOP).


Freezing rain in Philly...


Led to 1.5 hr de-icing...

(with some seriously noxious looking chemicals, including a gelatinous green liquid that came right out of TMNT...I could see the drain they all went down. Wonder how many three-eyed simpsons-esque fish live down there?)

Led to a missed connection to NM in Atlanta and the aforementioned Best Western.

The best part was when they put us into a customer service line hundreds of people long and after waiting for nearly an hour we got close enough to see that it only led to a phone bank and one (one!) Delta rep. Nice!

Darco's Mom was shocked shocked! that they weren't going to pay for our hotel room. We tried to tell her unless the airline itself (not the weather, not air traffic control) mucks up- like only if the engine falls off your plane while you're taxiing or the pilot kicks your puppy or something-will they pay for your hotel room. And with the amount of people travelling before x-mas (and their total lack of alternatives), maybe not even then.

As one might guess, the industrial area around the Atlanta Airport Best Western East does not present much diversion. We did pass a decomissioned Ford factory that was half torn down, and I would have LOVED to go shoot photos there, but it was pretty well guarded. Other than that, there's the TV, IHOP and (brrr) Juanito's. The evening passed slowly, but I felt the worst for Darco's son (at least until my digestive system revolted) as he was stuck with Darco's mum who decided that she HAD to spend all day and night watching Fox News. At one point he burst into our room, moaned "Mike Huckabee has been on TV talking for TWO HOURS" and then turned around and walked sadly back to his (admittedly unbearable) torture.

Anyway. Atlanta led to Chicago (where the temp was 18 below!)...


Led to Salt Lake (where we just snuck in ahead of a snow storm), led (finally) to Albuquerque. And then the hour+ drive to Santa Fe (in a fucking ridiculous rented Dodge SUV that was humongous and didn't even have four-wheel drive), where we enjoyed the local law enforcement!



"Super Blitz" is pretty damn accurate- they stopped every car on the highway. Our cop even commented on Darco's perpetually red eyes. He bought the story that Darco is part albino rat, however, so we went on our way unmolested. No walking lines or backwards alphabets or anything.

Icing on the cake, we ascended the Santa Fe plateau in a blinding blizzard that would dump about 2' of snow over the next 12 hours. But we finally made it to Darco's sister's beatiful house nestled in the hills at the tail end of the rockies. And it was good.

Ah, but the Odyssey is not over (although it is a hell of a lot better from here on out, rough return journey notwithstanding). Part two soon!
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A Fair Day at Fair Hill

Mountain biking! Gorgeous fall day! Well-maintained single-track! NO CRASHES! Heaven?

Let me say this: MD spends alot of money on their state parks and recreation areas...and I am totally down with that priority. These were the nicest trails I've been on (not that I've been on a whole lot, but hey). Lots of miles, lots of range in difficulty, nice climbs, fun descents (that I would bomb down if I weren't still a mtn bike wuss...as it is, I do more of a slinky). They were well-marked for the most part, except when it mattered unfortunately! We found ourselves with the sun setting, in the muck down by the river and dwindling hours before the ALL IMPORTANT birthday Eagle's game and nary a trail blaze to be seen. Don't ask me whose jersey that is. Its a child's large and Darco got it for $10.

Below are some more pictures. One of these days I'm going to bring my real camera to get some nicer riding shots. I'll make Darco ride back and forth in front of something picturesque and look like a Legitimate Mountain Biker. Or alternatively, a Mountain Biker Who Crashes Dynamically.

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