022: Sierra Road San José...and a Calf.

Sierra Road from Carey S-H on Vimeo.

Carey shot this video of yours truly climbing Sierra Road in San José, CA. (ps..if you want a real treat, check out her trip photos on Flickr) This is one of the better climbs that I've ever been on. I think that it has something to do with the fact that both times I've ridden this road the weather has been absolutely perfect. When it starts to hurt, lactic acid screaming at you from the depths of your legs, just take a look to your right, or left depending on which switchback you happen to be on and you'll be treated with some of the most achingly beautiful vistas in the country.

Well, it just so happened that there was a loose calf on the road that day and as Carey drove support she also pulled off the PRO manuever of shooting video whilst driving. Its a manuever that I don't recommend on busy highways, but the other nature of this climb that makes it wonderful is the complete lack of vehicular traffic on it.

This is one of my personal favorites of the photos that she took. We were riding along Hwy 1, I think, or 101, or something spectacular (don't ask me to follow cue sheets either, because that's when we get lost.) Dave, who's a pretty rad cat as well, was shooting some video as we cruised along on our bicycles, but he was set up with the ocean behind him when she snapped this off on her handy little Canon G10.


I keep forgetting to put up the list of roadkill that I saw on this trip, but was wondering how to tie it in to the screening of My Best Fiend that I saw the other night. I guess they kind of go hand in hand, because, as was apparent throughout the film Werner Herzog and the star of his films Klaus Kinski stopped at nothing to get their films made, leaving behind a veritable wreckage of not only broken human lives but a little bloodshed as well. So, that's kind of like roadkill on the road of life, right?

I'll leave you with this photo I took inside a bathroom in Santa Cruz.
Mind you, I took the photo, I did not write the writing.

021: T-Shirts Are Ready to Ship to You.

With the help of my man James the T-shirts are up on the site and ready for purchase.

I know, I know...great timing, economic downturn and all, yet I can't help but try to impress upon you just how great these two shirts are. The purple...or Aubergine one was designed by reader/Embrocation enthusiast Keith Plunkett. If he had a website that I knew about I would totally put a link right there. I would even make it a bold link, so Keith, when you see this don't hesitate for a moment, because the world wants to see your art.


The second one, green as can be, was designed by Jesse LaLonde. Who coincidentally (or not) wrote a piece that was featured in Embrocation Vol2.5 (sold out) about how he bunny hopped some barriers and thrashed his collar bone at the same time. "Boo." That's what I have to say to that. Mr. LaLonde has some amazing graphics though on his site. I'm looking forward to meeting up with Jesse at the North American Handmade Bicycle Show late in February to see what he's got cooking up for graphics and racing this coming summer.

And I love Luchador masks. They have a special place in my heart and I don't know why. Maybe it is this idea that not only are these wrestlers the Mexican equivalent to our WWF, but they don't show their faces. Once you take away their identity in that way they can be whomever they choose and I've always felt akin to this idea. This idea of being able to reinvent yourself time after time.

More than a few people commented that while they liked the Mask T-shirt it just didn't fit in with the brand image that has come to be Embrocation Cycling Journal. I disagree for just this reason. Why else would people put on these fantastical lycra costumes than to reinvent themselves? To step out of whatever it is that you're wearing or doing to put on a superhero costume and ride around town or country.

It is a good feeling. Go with it.

020: Jarmusch

I'm usually not a big fan of posting things from other people. Yet, all last week, as we rode through the different terrains that are California we talked about Jim Jarmusch frequently. Don't know why he kept coming up, but he did. Maybe it was the desolation of the land, maybe it was the ex-cons and samurai that we were hanging out with, or even possibly the amount of coffee and cigarettes that we consumed? I can't be sure. Yet, either way, this film director was spoken of and discussed quite a bit.

Maybe its because I feel like I'm on a permanent vacation? Seriously, I've been on the move for over a month now trying to keep projects rolling. Moving.

So, here's to being on the move...

and while I'm at it...If I don't get down by law then I can ride this mystery train until my last night on earth, you know, cause otherwise I'm a dead man.

019: Intrepidity

Intrepidity is the name of the game here with the Rapha boys.
And Dan Action is no exception to the rule.




Why would Mr. Action go and place himself in harms way like this?

I don't actually know, but my guess?
Because he saw Neil's Booties.

018: Documentation

The riding may be over, but the documenting is never over.

You'll have to wait a little while to see the photos that come back from this little "adventure" that isn't entirely over. As they were shot with these antiquated cameras. Apparently they take real film not just digital memory cards. They tend to look amazing-er than the digital stuff as well. Although, Velodramatic may beg to differ as he's pretty amazing behind the lens of a digital camera. Check out his most recent post as he put up a gallery of images that he shot during his time with the Conti-Crew.

Also check out Daniel's write up's on Bicycling.com.



I don't even know where to begin in telling the tale of the Rapha Continental Tour of California preview. So, I made a list of the food that I ate this morning. Yesterday we climbed over Palomar mountain. Was not too hungry after the 100 mile ride, but this morning was another story.

1 Grande coffee from starbucks
1 sausage egg and cheese from the same
2 packages of lucky charms from hotel lobby
2 mini blueberry muffins
1 cinnamon roll

Then we headed over to Auntie Em's for an amazing breakfast (no, the above wasn't breakfast, it was more of a precursor.)

2 coffees Intelligentsia this time
1 order of biscuits and gravy with
3 over easy eggs on top
1 coconut cupcake

disgusting I know.
but it held me over for hours.

I've also made a list of the roadkill that I've seen, but I figured that the two probably wouldn't go together that well and decided to save that for another post.
or at least an hour.

017: Richard Sachs Rapha Continental Ride.

016: On the Road With Rapha.

Day One.
Rode out of Sacremento. Actually we first rode the time trail loop. Which took all of 10 minutes around the capital building. It's strange to go out on such an intimate ride with new people. Usually you ride with people in larger groups before you would head out on something "epic," or even close to it with other riders. Yet, here we are trucking along at 26 miles an hour and I'm tucked in behind Benito like we've been riding together for years.

The way that this man climbs is inhuman.

This isn't Ben by the way. It is Cole. We first rode together last year before the Tour of California, so I guess it is fitting that we should meet up again to do this ride. His beard is out of control this year.

I'm trying to get some of this stuff down before I forget it. Days are starting to blend together. Did the big climb with the trees on the side happen yesterday, or the day before...the one with the raptors pulling apart a dead skunk.
(I've got a list of roadkill for later.)

Day Two.


I'm starting to lose myself in some of these climbs. I didn't know that they had climbs like this in California. They go up, and up and never stop....you need to take yourself and put it away for a while to get to the top of them. Head into the Hurt Locker Room and pick out a locker for yourself....then just fucking climb in and hang out. Hopefully some of the people you came with with pick lockers next to you so that you can at least have a conversation or two while you're in there.

Michael from Velodramatic is with us. His Audi makes a nice rabbit for us to catch and the throaty growl of the engine makes me smile as I attempt to catch a draft up Tunidas Creek. However, landspeeder's would have made a better choice as the Redwoods leaning out over the path are very reminiscent of the ewok scenes in Return of the Jedi. Plus, he's got a good post about our little adventure going on at his site right now.



This isn't like any other Rapha Conti ride I've done. Most of them have been one, maybe two days at the most. But Six. Shit. Jesus, take it easy on me. My body is starting to fall apart. Pain is creeping up my right side and I don't like it. Not one bit.

Brian from the Washingmachinepost also put something up today. Be careful over there though. This man doesn't use capital letters.

Day Three.



Out of San Jose. Up the first climb.
I realized soon out of San Jose that we were heading to a climb that I've actually done before. Two years ago the North American Handmade Bicycle show was in San Jose, CA. I snuck out early one morning to ride with Kent Erickson and his crew. Mr. Erickson was the founder of Moots Cycles but broke off to form Erikson Cycles. We left early in the morning to head out to the climb. It was like nothing that I'd ever climbed before. The climb seems to go on for days, and just when you're about to give up. To pull over to the side of the road and get off your bike, you catch a glance below you...a glance that produces phrases like "Go Levi!" or "George Hincapie, Do It!" As you see these spray painted messages, they quite literally propel you forward. Some of them are still there...

The Sachs road bike is holding up well. Climbs like a dream and tracks downhill like nothing I've ever ridden on the road. Ira claims he knows the secret as to why the bike is so smooth. But so far he isn't telling (instead he's out looking for Ritchey Breakaway bits.) We miss you Ira.

Day Four.


It's 2pm. Hahn and I are already in the van. My IT band has officially exploded so I'm ultimately relegated to the van. The only thing I would be doing if I was out there would be slowing people down, as the 14 mph that I can push is too slow for this stage. Flat and fast. The morning was kept cool by some early showers (broken only by the SRAM support car that showed up a couple days ago.)



"Can you radio back to that team that I got that county line sprint"
-Hahn from the car.

015: On the Road Again.

Seriously.
It was two days home (to pack up the apartment) and now I'm back on the road.
I love it.

Should be good though. A nice little ride with the Rapha Continental boys, a chance to do hammer away with the likes of Dan Action, Ira Ryan and apparently a guy named Evil Ryan. DWP shooting photos and Carey covering pretty much every angle possible. Should be good times all around.

Adventure is the name of the game with this crew. Apparently we're doing something like 120 miles a day for a week or so. Good thing that I haven't touched this little beauty in weeks. Nothing like a little winter training to keep the legs fresh. And I ask you...why wouldn't you want to go to California to do it? I would.

The theme of the ride is to capture all the roads from the upcoming Tour of California before that goes off in a month. I think I should have brought my Rapha time trial bike....usually I only use it for the Triathalon season, but I would have broken it out for this.

My time trial bike, just so you know is a pair of clip on carbon bar extensions that Colin Murphy gave me a couple years ago. They make this nice crackily sound when you really lean into them... I use them one time a year. Fitchburg Stage Race. But, I'm just saying, had I know I would have brought them.

Its always something though, isn't it. New friends, old friends, adventure abounds. This is why we do this people. Right? Even the ride to the airport is bound to be an adventure.

The driver, when he stopped twitching all over the front seat, seriously I thought his face was going to explode right there. He then proceeded to pull out some elegant leather gloves (hell, they could have been Rapha for all I know) and after satisfying himself with a rather lengthy hair combing (the true sign of a gentleman, a comb handy at all times ) he used those delicately gloved digits to light up a cigarette.

Let it be known that I do not smoke cigarettes, but I found myself enthused to come across a man who knows what he wants and despite what may be considered a social faux-pa, he's going for it anyway. Who am I to judge anyones leisure activities anyway?

This is going to be a good trip.

014: Tea for Thought.

I was reading this post on Tea by friend J.P. and it reminded me that I haven't just been doing bicycle related stuff while I've been traveling. Sometimes I get caught up in the cycling end of things as far as this website goes and I forget that I actually do other stuff worth mentioning. Ok, maybe not really worth mentioning, but I do other stuff besides think about bikes.

Sometimes.

I really like food, for instance, and almost more than that, I enjoy taking photos of food and the dining experience.

Well, Jen's post got me thinking about Tea as well and the interesting encounters that I had with it in the last few weeks. The first was a couple weeks ago at a Dim Sum restaurant in London and the other was the past few days when I was deathly ill and drinking it like it was going out of style. Ok, I wasn't deathly ill, just a little under the weather, but its so much more dramatic if you say "deathly ill," I've found.

Dim-Sum
Was led through the underground network of tunnels called "the Tube" to Ping-Pong, a nice little tea house and dim-sum restaurant in London's SoHo district that boasts "Little steamed parcels of deliciousness." How can you go wrong with a tag line like that? The food was amazing, but what struck me more were the "flowering pearls" of tea that we ordered. I haven't been privy to this style of tea before and my mind was almost entirely blown as I sat there watching the "pearl" of tea literally unfold, or blossom in front of me.

The tea came to the table looking like a tightly rolled ball of field grass. Which, I guess in a way, it is. Then when hot water is poured over the "pearl" it starts to unwind itself. Almost creepily unraveling as you sit and stare. Slowly moving through the steaming water. There were a few levels to this unraveling as well, the first opened to reveal a bright pink blossom, which then opened further with a brilliant white flower at the top. At this point, being the delicate tea lover that I am, I jammed the pearl down to the bottom of the glass, hoping something really spectacular would happen. It didn't, but it looked nice.

Up until this point I'd thought of tea in a few very different ways:

1) as something that my mother and grandmother would give me when I couldn't sleep, usually in the vein of "Sleepytime Tea" or "Lemon Zest" or something to that effect.

2) the dark, smoky teas that Mr. P. Rubijono introduced me to when I started racing cyclocross "to keep you healthy and in the sporting lifestyle." Perfect post race or just in from a cold training ride.

3) as something you order at a coffee shop to either
a) look smarter than you are, or
b) when you've just had too much coffee for one day

4) as a Russian Tea Embrocation. Hint: its near the bottom, and I've used it, its near amazing.

What I didn't realize is that there is a whole world of Tea out there. And this world involves not only a bizarre mixture of flavors for your palate, but something for most of your senses...apparently including sight as well.

Cheers to you, Tea,

013: Americans in Belgium.

I was surprised by the number of Americans, or North American's if you prefer, that were racing their bicycles over in Belgium. I tried to capture them the best I could with me little camera, but some of these bike racers are so damn elusive. Especially the women. For some reason not every race has a woman's race, or it goes off hours before the men. Strange?

In any case, here they are....and yes, I'm fully aware that I didn't capture everyone. I'm sorry, I'm only one guy here.

From Left to Right in a Clockwise Fashion:

Jonathan "the Hammer" Page: I don't think that's his nickname, since I gave it to him, but after watching him race over there it seems fitting. Plus he's kind of the "working man's" racer who's been over there doing it the longest.

Gavin Manion: Only got to see him race once, but he did pretty well. Pucci would be proud, yes he would. I bet Toby would too. I half expected to see Toby lurking at any corner, but alas...no go.

Jamey "stache" Driscoll: Was kind of disappointed that the 'stache went away during the course of the few weeks that I saw him race. This must be the penance you pay for not being in one of these cycling camps and having to take care of yourself.

Molly "the MC" Cameron: Of Course. Third year in Belgium. No big deal. Schooling everyone on the ice at Turvuren, no big deal. Doing it bigger and better next year. Big deal.

Ryan "Treefarm" Trebon: Haven't really had that much interaction with this guy. But he sure remains calm and cool in the start box. He even took the time to joke around with me before he got crashed out at the first race we were attended.

Georgia Gould: This woman is on fire. I saw her handily put away fields that not only included Wendy Simms (my heart skips a beat every time I type that) but Marrianne Vos (and Molly's skips a beat there.)

So, this is Yash and his lovely friend (or can we say finace now?) Meg. They're from the New World as well. In fact they live right down the street from me. That's what I call superfans, coming all the way across the pond to watch a few dudes get dirty. Yes Please.

Matt Shriver: Ok, don't really know much about this guy. Or anything. I'm sure he's nice though. Molly says so.

Jeremy Powers: He let me listen to his ipod once. I wasn't the same. I was a changed man after that. Jeremy had a few really great rides over there. Killing it. Kiiiiiling it. I'm psyched to see how he does at Worlds. And, as I do, he has a thing for Speculoos. Good man.

012: Belgium's A Wrap.

I left my homeland Monday.

Let me explain.

The concept behind the "homeland" is simple. While traveling in S. America a couple of years ago, my good friend Aimee commented, after a nasty round in the ring with Chile, that she missed our "homeland" of Argentina. We spent well over two months traveling around AR, and when we got to Chile, it just didn't cut it. The food was not as good, the people were angry, and the weather was shit. On that trip Argentina became our "homeland." As we crossed the border the sun was shining and finally once again, the beer was cold. See here, if you're interested. (its under the one titled "Don't trust long skinny countries.")

In any case. Sorry Aims, but I've got a new Homeland and it's called Belgium.

Not to worry though, I didn't just pull it out of thin air.
I've got a few reasons for this:

1) The Best Fucking Host in all the World. Peter Tachelet. He's mine. Don't try to contact him. He will not help you. Seriously thinking of putting him on the Embrocation Payroll for the European Campaign of 09-10.

2) Frites (pronounced free-ches).

3) Cyclocross. Duh.

4) Belgian Radio. On one road trip we heard. 10 Radiohead songs, 2 Rage Against the Machine, Bon Iver, Guns n Roses, Queen, Tool, and enough 90's punk to satisfy Molly AND Chris Distefano (who was there in spirit.)

5) Condiments. Can you say World Capital of Mayonnaise? I can.

6) Cycling Culture. Met enough Cycling World Champions to last a lifetime.

7) The toilets are not in the bathrooms. At first I thought this was a bad thing. Then some explaining happened and now I'm into it, for a couple of reasons. One, if someone is showering, you can still use the toilet. Two, as it was so eloquently put to me "why would you want to shit where you bathe?" Cheers.

8) Pro Cyclists in Belgium are the equivalent of our baseball or football players. You see them in Nissan ads. It cracks me up every time. See Bart Wellens above in a Sauna ad, or the plethora of Boonen postcards.

9) Braadworst. Being from Wisconsin I have subjected many of my friends to the Beer Brat over the years. And damn if they aren't fine in Belgium.

10) I was interviewing Guy Andrews of Rouleur yesterday and talking about cycling, as it were, and somehow (and I can't imagine how) the talk turned to Belgians and their love of cycling. "They just get it." Guy said, and I think that sums it up better than I ever could.

011: This Happened Yesterday.

010: One More For You.

009: GP De Ster: Sint Niklaas, Belgium

008: Cross In Luxembourg