Monday, October 15, 2007

Water Bottles: Scotch & Water [bottles] Edition

I attended the Scottish Highland Games on Saturday with Gen. Reginald, the lass and the wee bairn. Heard the pipes, watched the marching bands, marvelled at the men heaving great big stones and trees through the air, but not so much as I marvelled at the sheep dog trials demonstration. Saw some lovely livestock, ate some meat pies and some shortbread cookies, and had a great time. I also got to fuss some lovely livestock, including a charming Highland Cow calf, and a couple Clydesdales. Oh yeah, and I was sportin' the tartan, representin' for Clan Cameron. What's there to say? It was a great time.

A Great Big Hairy Clydesdale
and a Horse


There is apparently a big stink going down about Nat Ross taking a beer handup during the recent CX Vegas cyclocross race that was held as a centerpiece of Interbike. Some of the Powers What Be are upset at Mr. Ross for making a mockery of this most serious of cycling disciplines (giggle. snort). Some folks in the Boulder CO crowd are telling Mr. Ross they aren't going to use his race announcing services in retaliation. That kinda sucks - I think they are missing out on the levity and joy that surrounds cross. Shit, they sound like the kind of people who would pull riders who are on the lead lap for supposed 'safety' reasons - total killjoys. For supposed free spirits, a lot of these cycling folks are awfully frickin' uptight and puritannical.

Cankle Update - the Cankle is doing alright, there's some residual pain in the big toe and arch, but I'm at about 90% right now. With a little luck I'll be healed up by Saturday.

I'm considering hooking up with Trevor and John and trying to join the cross practice session that Harshman heads up on Wednesday night. I've heard it's pretty good and it might make a nice change from the usual. That, and I'd be able to sleep in until nearly 6:00 AM for a change...

Want to read a kind of interesting bike blog written from a different perspective? Check out Itchy Bits. Guaranteed to make you boys squirm a bit.

5 comments:

Chuck Wagon said...

Clan Colquhoun representing here - I guess it should probably be "The Bagpipe Chuckwagon," although that would deny my mother's Kraut contribution to my bloodstream, which would of course make it "The Waltzing Chuckwagon."

So did you have enough sack to get married in drag - er, I mean, a kilt?

Jim said...

F***in A right I did.

Anonymous said...

1)I think you need to reread the letters....

"Now that I think about it, I do recall the hint of fun coming across the mic. Racing bikes should not be associated with the F word."

All tongue in cheek.

2)Shit happens in racing. Sorry you got pulled, it sucks, but get over it.

3)Don't be the yank in a kilt. Leave it to guys that talk funny and can polish off a litre on first night.

Uncle Bob said...

Whatever happened to the maxim "What happens in Vagas, stays in Vegas"?

Jim said...

Those letters in the linked article are cheeky and in jest. The actual uproar - there is one in the real world - is not in jest. Some promoters and official types are talking about taking action against Ross.

I'm not getting over the getting pulled thing because a number of people in points contention in succeeding weeks have been pulled. My club is promoting a race in a few weeks and I'm one of the organizers. Local refs continue to have this idea that that cross is like crits and you need to pull anybody not in the "lead group," which in cross is inevitably a little cluster. As a result they are pulling lapped riders, and nailing a good few people who are among the lapped riders but on the lead lap and in contention for points in the series standings. It's not a "get over it" type situation. It's a "keep bitching until they fix what they are doing wrong" situation.

On the final point, I'll wear whatever teh f*** I want, including the kilt that was passed down to me. We had a revolution in part because we didn't like Her Majesty's subjects telling what clothes we could wear. Sumptuary laws went out in Samuel Johnson's time.