How one man does his part

One in from our man Pistol. We could all learn a thing or two from this cat.

From: Pistol Pete
Subject: serious cyclists
I saw some serious cyclists today. They were serious. They might have been from Boulder. Or maybe their butts hurt. They sure were serious.

Me? I had a great day. Day off. I woke up late, kinda, and jumped onna Eastern Sierra bus. I was slightly hung. Mammoth “395” sage flavored ale last night to commemorate bein’ back from another ten days on the Hill. They dropped us off at the highway so we could pull the hill(me an’ El Coyotero)and we soaked at the Hot Ditch.

Then I rode into Bishop, got a spinach, artichoke and feta cheese croissant, talked to a pretty girl and scored a brand new fly fishing reel at the Bargain House for 50 cents. After that I got a chicken breast and a half liter of chocolate milk at Josephs Market and rode out to the river. We went swimming with the Artesians and talked to some old naked girls who were cute a long time ago. I showed’m my root, they seemed mildly interested. Maybe they were just being polite.

On my way back to town I saw an older Toyota PU with Oregon plates. From that point on all I could sing (out loud, full voice, natch) was “Pride of Cucamonga” from the Dead. Everyone I passed was smiling at me. In town again I got a locally brewed cup o’ joe an’ a big ol’ cookie. Sittin’ on the porch, sippin’ an’ munchin’, I noticed I had a flat on the rear. Pop the nuts with Jethro an’ I’ve got one piece of glass, two little pieces of cable type wire, three biggish chunks of unidentified metal shavings and four or five goathead spikes(heads gone)in the tire. I pull the tube and only have one puncture! Properly installed Tuffys are worth the weight penalty, for me at least.

I got all my shit layin’ out an’ Mr.Serotta pilot stops to see if I’m cool. People here are nice. We talk hotrod bikes (his) and humble bikes (mine) My tire’s fixed, my cookie an’ coffee’r gone an’ it’s time to roll. Hit National Chain grocery store, buy frozen pizza an’ two big ol’ Double Barrel ales an’ just in time jump onna last bus back down valley. Talk fishin’ an’ hikin’ with the driver for the hour ride, drop off, ride back to camp an’ give Thanks an’ Praises…I’m off tomorrow too!
Pistol out!

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About big jonny

The man, the legend. The guy who started it all back in the Year of Our Lord Beer, 2000, with a couple of pages worth of idiotic ranting hardcoded on some random porn site that would host anything you uploaded, a book called HTML for Dummies (which was completely appropriate), a bad attitude (which hasn’t much changed), and a Dell desktop running Win95 with 64 mgs of ram and a six gig hard drive. Those were the days. Then he went to law school. Go figure. Flagstaff, Arizona, USA

7 thoughts on “How one man does his part

  1. Man, so is that what it is like to be a pro cyclist? I need to give up this family and work stuff. Never heard of the tuffy’s. I stan prep my tubes. And go tubeless off road with very few issues. Doesn’t always work but has saved me from getting my hands dirty many times.

  2. been off the bike for 12 days and counting. I gotta believe again that just an hour or 45 min is better than none. busy as fuck now days

    dolla dolla bill you

    why I think it is not worth it if it is not over 40 miles I don’t know anymore

    and with santa ana winds in so cal i dont go near the mountains for shit. no matter how fit I will never spin as fast as these fucking fires burn.

    basically I don’t do dick till Feb

    fuck cyclocross