I Don’t Give a Rat’s Ass About Contador.

And that is why I, for one, have posted nothing about it.

Fin.

Here’s what I’d donate a grade-A rat’s ass to: 24 hours in the Old Pu. It’s happenin’ this weekend. In Tucson. The desert. Where it is always warm and sunny and dry.
The forecast?

Rain.

That cloud will mushroom stamp you into a cactus.
That cloud will mushroom stamp you into a cactus.

The pile of bike shit I am bringing to this race is obscene, especially considering the low bar I have set for myself for actual ride time. I am bringing the requisite booze both for before the race and after throwing in the towel, which, in my estimation, should happen sometime after 9 p.m. for this guy, just late enough for me to test out the frackin’ sweet EXPOSURE LIGHTS on loan to us DC riders.

Why?

Well, see, here’s the thing. I don’t like pain that much anymore. A few years ago, I’d be full of HELL YES and GNAR EPIC POW! Now I’m mostly full of booze and figurative shit. I’ll do what I can do. Have fun on the bike. When it’s not fun, I’ll stop, drink a beverage with my wife (who will be making the trek down to Tucson with me to witness the carnage and still love me despite my completely ravaged masculinity), maybe have a Coke and a smile and shut the fuck up.

That’s how I roll these days.

I’ve never ridden with a flask before. Maybe this is the opportunity.

So, as the fine mechanic I am, I gave my bike a tune up after a ride down in Sedona last week. It’s amazing: I spent years working on bicycles and the one that never works is my own. Not for lack of talent, mind you. More like a lack of motivation. You ever try working on fifteen bikes a day for most of your adult life and then go home, hands still grimy and swollen, and have to work on your own shit?

Slap some lube on that bitch and hit the trail. Squeaks are good for you. Frayed cables, too.

The bike is rideable. My body is serviceable, for the most part. Shee-itt, let’s ride two-wheelers past our bedtimes.

And if I fall asleep, well goddamn, it ain’t the END OF ZE WORLD!

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZMwKPmsbWE[/youtube]

About D2

I am a writer and a photographer. I never killed a man in Reno, but I once rode a bike through a casino in Vegas. Bikes are cool, huevos rancheros are for breakfast, whiskey is for dinner. Denver, Colorado, USA

91 Replies to “I Don’t Give a Rat’s Ass About Contador.”

  1. “Learn how to STOP RIDING when you need to instead of what appears to be a replacement addiction. How’d that slice of text hit you?”

    lj

    Missed this before but as someone who just checked out of detox last Wednesday, I have to say, you are a World class piece of shit. You should look in to a few days stay somewhere your self. Then a nice secular shrink like I’m heading for Monday.

    I can only hope I find a replacement addiction as judi has.

  2. Hey LJ, the game we are playin is called LIFE. The jobs are out there you just got to want it. So quit your bichin and go get one.

    Oh yea, I got your fuckstick, it’s right in front of my giant set of BALLS!!

  3. As far as replacing one addiction with another, I may be guilty, but I never went to jail for going on too many bike rides.

  4. …something to be said about a guy who can virtually disappear from the site for ages, come back & within two posts, stir up as much or more caustic shit than a diarrhea outbreak at a ‘hot karl’ convention…

    …you are a fucking piece of work, littlejar…i’d like to believe that the good things i just said about you are true but on second read, i don’t know if you deserve that much credit…

    …i will say this…you are unique, motherfucker…you are definitely fucking unique but not in a way that seems to serve you well or there wouldn’t be the need for so much complaint & vitriol…from you or at you…

    …just observing…

  5. Seriously, DB had a fine post, and simply made mention of something that many have come across either in their own lives or witnessed around them — the activity that one is paid to do for 9 or more hours a day often becomes the activity one is least interested in doing when they go home from said job. We’re not talking about some intricate absrtract notion, just your basic “DUH” statement.

    It has nothing to do with ingratitude for one’s job, its just a basic fact. I have a friend who is a carpenter for a remodeling biz, and his wife bitches on a regular basis of the 100 half-finished or untouched fix up jobs in their own home. Why? Because after he works on other people’s homes for 10, 12, 14 hours, he has little interest in picking up a hammer when he gets home. I have another friend who is an executive chef at a local fine dining establishment. I have yet to see him cook in his own home, unless you count the pizzas that we put in the microwave when we hang out and watch movies.

    I worked at the Red Cross for years, and would get many nurses in the door who wanted to volunteer. When I asked them what kind of volunteer work they wanted to do, more than half would respond, “anything but nursing work. Can I stuff envelopes? Drive a truck? Maybe cook food?”

    A basic and obvious concept (many of us want a break from the activity that we were doing all day when we get home) was twisted into an unecessary rant at a guy who likely couldn’t give a rat’s ass right now because he is either a.) kicking ass at the 24 race or b.) is done racing for the day and is currently snuggled up in a tent with a beer, his wife, or (if he’s lucky), both.

  6. Learn how to stop riding, LJ? Since you are apparently out here in 24 hr town, why don’t you start screaming STOP at all the lunatics out here freezing our asses off in the wind and rain right now. Oh, gotta go it’s tiime for a night lap. Won’t be seeing you out on the course.

  7. Degree in media.
    Worked in broadcasting awhile.
    Chucked it to become a land surveyor.
    Meanwhile, played off and on in rockabilly bands.
    Work dried up. Got my CDL and ran coast to coast for a year.
    Got the shits of being gone all the time. Talked my way into a job with an electrical contractor.
    Fifteen years later I’m a commercial electrician, proud to be part of a first-rate team of amazing people.
    Got too many bikes and am all thumbs around them, for all my skills in my trade. So I mostly ride fixed gear.
    Ain’t it peculiar how you know what you want, but then you never really do.

  8. KgT@22 +1
    bgw@45 +1

    lj, from what I’ve seen, I seriously doubt that you can turn the PMA on for very long. You say caustic shit, and then attack anyone who points it out.

    I managed a big shop for 7 years, was in the business for 15, I’ve hired a number of people. I don’t think I ever hired someone because they had UBI or BBI certification. I had a couple of guys go get the certification as a way to improve their shot at getting team jobs. I looked for aptitude, potential, honesty, and attitude. I never expected anyone to have an encyclopedic knowledge at the start. I had a number guys (young and old) who’s only experience was working on their own bikes. They started out doing the simple repairs, stocking, sweeping and writing estimates. As their knowledge grew, so did their responsibility. Had to work through a couple of rough patches with a few of my guys. A couple made it, and they have become better managers and mechanics than i was. But, I had to fire a couple of really talented mechanics because they couldn’t get it together. Working in a shop isn’t all rainbows and unicorns. There’s a lot about it I miss, but then there’s the customers that want you to do unreasonable or dangerous things to their bike, then get irate when your creative solution doesn’t work perfectly.

    If you really wanted a job in a shop, you could get one. Hell, I even had a guy or two that lived in their vans. As near as I can tell you just want to bitch about not having one. PMA, brother. It’ll make a huge difference.

  9. I think this whole thing can be summed up in two, articulate sentences.

    Dan, you are a great fucking writer and your posts help to make this site what it is.

    Littlejar, well…put down the booze ya koot.

  10. Jesus, judi. Do you need a “Lighten up Francis”? I don’t want to give you one, but I fucking will.

  11. DERKA DERKA MUHAMMED ALI!

    To think I wasted over a week, camping in inland B.C. ski area parking lots, when I could have been doing this.

  12. Eight days: Big White, Kicking Horse X2, Revelstoke, Red Mtn., Whitewater, Schweitzer, Hyak. My legs are cooked. I leave for Tahoe in three days. Keep the waxy side down, y’all.

  13. Waxy side of what? We’re waxing our bikes now? Don’t even wash mine, thankyouverymuch. Waxing legs, maybe? Don’t do that either. Or even wash them as much as I should.

  14. @72.

    Naw. You ain’t.

    Just traveling a different road from lj and not interested in his bull-shit about it.

    Tightly wound ? Yea. That you are.

    We’ll start a club eh ??

  15. “team madness”

    That sounds like your team name for the next Old Pueblo.

    If I stay on track, I’ll be there at the start passing out sarsaparilla’s and encouragement.

    Then sleeping the night away while you idiots ride.

    It’ll be fun.

  16. …that hadda fucking hurt…

    …’course, ‘when i was a boy’ we would a’ eschewed surgery for a little splinter like that & just bent around & pulled that sucker out using our teeth…

    …why, i ‘member the time when me n’ my good pal paul bunyan clear cut a forest with swiss army knives…but times was different back then…

  17. …& dammit, mikey…you keep rubbin’ that shit in & i’m gonna be hopin’ you get snow in your mittens & a frozen typing finger…

    …wax on, wax off, amigo…

  18. I turned wrenches off and on for a good while ( two decades ). One thing i pulled from it (other than knowing how to fix bikes) was that there is an ultimate sadness and anger that runs in all shops. Perhaps because the dream of working in a shop is a fools dream. Ride time dries up, you learn that even the best bike candy really isnt that great. Fixing huffys is more common than working on Colnagos. Lets not forget the pay. Very few make a living. Even fewer a good living. Then there is the fact that every other person you work with would also rather be riding. I would never discourage anyone from doing it, it has provided me with some of my best memories. I just think its a bit different than most people think. The anger in these posts reminds me alot of working in a shop.. Ill leave it at that…

  19. Makes volunteering at your local co-op sound like a much more satisfying use of the skills, yes?

  20. first tracks on the MTB with stud tars tonight in the SNOWPOCALYPSE ™ that has descended like the white right fist of god upon the East Bellevue Savannah. There’s a good 1″ of freshie and it’s almost cold enough to freeze water. Be careful out there, boyz.

  21. gildas, got an error:

    “This video contains content from UMG, who has blocked it in your country on copyright grounds.”

  22. Damn… Works in Spain, France and Belgium… Flamenco must be against the second ammendement or someth…

    Go on Youtube and search: “el torta viviendo sin frenos “

  23. I am usually not one to comment on these things, but maybe this should be said. LJ, the reason you can’t get hired is because you are a self-righteous, negative asshole. Give me someone with no experience, a little aptitude, and a positive attitude anytime over some prick who thinks he’s better than everyone else. The people who blame everyone else for their problems need to look within. Furthermore, D2 was just making an observation. I didn’t take it as whining or complaining, it wasn’t even the crux of the post. Still you had to drop a “Fuck you” and make it about yourself. Fucking narcissistic pussy.
    I will admit though, your post about selling that LandShark awhile back was awesome. Perfect satire of a douchebag bike dork who wants to interview the person buying his bike….priceless.
    That said, this site really makes me miss Flag., Sedona and AZ desert as well as the good people there who will drink you under the table, ride you into the ground and call you a pussy when you are being a pussy. Peace.

  24. Funny how people who don’t know me or what I do call me a pussy. It doesn’t bother me one bit. People that do know me say other things. Have your opinion, have the last word – we all make mistakes and typing into a box allows for a lot of stupid stuff to be written. Who cares. I’ve had “Fuck you” dropped on me so often, by nearly everyone on this site, and also had praise. I put some effort toward making articles that are read-able and will make someone smile. You can imagine someone to be anything you want based upon your assumptions after reading comments… but until you meet, hang out with, drink, or ride with someone, you don’t know who they are. Assume all you want.
    The Landshark is not for sale, anymore, by the way. The time trial bike is, though. $350 on Craigslist.

  25. …littlejar…the last thing in the world you are, is a pussy, okay ???…you man up, ride your bike for fun & transport through all kinds of shit, so you definitely don’t come anywhere near being a pussy…

    …these days, i come closer to being a pussy than you (i didn’t own a car until i was 40 – i’m 61 now) but the fact remains that when you put on your ‘crusader rabbit’ costume, you have a remarkable propensity for losing the message through the manner in which you deliver it…

    …’member the old adage “don’t kill the messenger” ???…if you’d been a courier in days of old, you would a’ be killed every time…over n’ over…

  26. bgw, I believe your compatriot Mr. McLuhan addressed that point most eloquently and succinctly. Just sayin’…