Well after wrestling with an increasingly bum wing for the last couple of months, I finally paid the doctor a visit to find out just what the hell was taking place inside of me. The good news is they wont have to amputate, but the bad news is that due to an increased strain from hucking hundreds of pounds of bike boxes off of our pallet shelving day in and day out, Im now proudly diagnosed with some possible nerve damage, basically a bunch of compacted wrist bones, and acute arthritis, though from where I stand, can see nothing cute about it at all.

The most amazing conversation took place in the P.T.s office however, which concluded with her telling me that it would be best if I took a break from none other than riding bikes off road and drinking alcohol.

Stunned, the best analogy I could come up with was that the only other thing she could have told me that made less sense was that it would serve me well to spend the duration of my healing process walking on backwards my hands, naked and only breathing out of my ass.

But realistically, the long and the short of it is maintaining a schedule away from these things that, in effect, construct nearly the whole of who I am, will only serve to ensure that I can hopefully do them for many more years.

So that being said, it looks like Ill be seeing you riding on the road for some weeks to come.

You will be able to recognize me by my dayglo vest and barrage of helmet mirrors.

And you know, as long as Im at this life change, Im not ashamed to admit that Im now attempting to maintain a regular schedule of something I never thought would pass my lips, or as the case may be, strain my hips....

Ahem..Palates.

Jesus, if Loudass thought hed struck gold with last years pool party, then we havent seen anything yet.

But as Ive embarked on this new and totally queer journey, Im just now beginning to realize that due to the fact that Ive done next to nothing else for my body but ride bikes for almost 20 years, my upper body has nearly atrophied, while my lower body has over developed to the point that watching me do the various stretches, is not alot unlike watching someone attempt to balance a medicine ball on a golf tee.

Im not ashamed to admit that if I dont start doing something about my physical state now, Im afraid Ill literally be crippled in another five years, so if that means being a target of the kinds of world class carpet bomb heckling that only my friends can dish out, then so be it.

Now while were on the topic of various states of physical abilities, Im sure youre all aware of our friend Bobby McMullen.

Well, after watching this entire film recently, the realization that my poor widdle wrist is not much more than a hangnail in comparison, squished me like a ton of bricks.
We actually have picked up a stack of the DVDs to give away to folks, so out of respect to just what a giant of a man Bobby is, Im not gonna throw a contest or anything. Im just going to say that the first folks who want to get a copy for themselves should send me an email to stevil@swobo.com and as long as I have them, Ill send you one.
(*Update- by the wee hours of the morning, my inbox was filled, and the DVDs are all spoken for- but you can still always get a copy for yourself here.)

This film is an absolute must see for the simple fact that it should serve as glaring inspiration that no matter what adversity life throws at us, we can all have the resolve to dig deep and make things better for ourselves.

The film will also have screenings at select venues in California in the coming weeks as well;

Bodies Exhibit
Redding, CA
Sunday, July 20th, 11am, 1pm, 3pm

Action on Film Festival (nominated for Best Docmentary Cinematography!)
Pasadena, CA
Tuesday, July 22nd, 1:00

Bicycle Film Festival
Hollywood, CA
Saturday, July 19th at 5:00pm

Bicycle Film Festival
San Francisco
Saturday, July 26th at 7:00pm

And lastly, as proud as I am to have the position as moderator on this here weblog, Bobby is absolutely, and undeniably the model for bummer life avoidance, and I tip my hat humbly at his perseverance and mettle.

So with all of that being said, lets venture back to the standard array of jackassery, shall we?
Like this, for example... Friday afternoon, Jenni took off her shoe and showed me how shes able to flip me off with her feet;

Or parhaps this shot that Dan sent in;

How about an email from El Gato in which he talks of the thing that Im not allowed to do anymore?

"Stevil,

I suspect at least part of the reason some of us choose 'cross bikes is the perverse pleasure we get when passing armor clad mountain huckers on single track. Ah, the joy in hearing "Dude, that guy just cleaned Braille on a ROAD bike".

I'm wondering what it would feel like to pass a few cars on Highway 17 wearing this this naughty little number..

El Gato"

I was lambasted by a bunch of paintball gear wearing bafoons not so very long ago for 'riding my road bike on a downhill trail'.
As I unleashed my 60 hour work week fury upon them, one of them called me Lance, and then they scurried away to their awaiting F350 shuttle.
Talk about giving douchebags a bad name.

Of course now in hindsight, riding my 'road bike' on 'their downhill trail' might possibly partially explain why Im currently unable to any longer, pick up a book, high five or turn a door knob with my left hand.

How about a sweet shot of Jamie and Hurl?

The story behind this shot is a good one. Hurl and Mac had just returned to the Bay Area from a bicycle trip around Vietnam, while I on the other hand had just been given a full year of disability from my job. To celebrate their return to the states, and my departure from any level of responsibility whatsoever, we embarked on a marathon run of beer drinking and debauchery. As sticky eyes began to slowly peel open on the morning in question, Ian shook me awake and urgently inquired, "doesnt Jamie live here.. I mean, hes got a bedroom in this house, right?" which was the truth. Why Jamie chose to snuggle up to Hurl, pole to hole, as they say, is a sweetly unresolved mystery that will forever live in the annals of history.

Also, as local lore has it, that red spot on the wall behind the sofa was a result of my Halloween costume many months earlier, shown here in the preliminary stages of totally killerness;

But in a eventual C.S.I. type of investigation shortly after the stain occured, Im reasonably certain that this theory was soundly debunked.

Have you got time for a long, and somewhat mathematically challenging email, with an end result of awesome?;

"Hey Stevil,

Love the site. Cuttin' to the chase. I was at work the other day (at the lbs) and it happens to be next to a grocery store. We are good friends with the manager of the store. Apparently, they have way to many pies because they are on sale 24/7. So our bud, the manager, brought us a few pies. Now, the same day I happened to have some relatives in town for dinner; so I took a pie to feed the out-of-towners. The only reason I took the pie is because I happened to take the basket off an old 1984 Free Spirit Greenbrier (Sears and Roebuck top of the line back then) and put it on my commuter - as opposed to my usual backpack. The basket was just big enough (Read: an inch too small) to hold the box that incarcerated the pie. This didn't seem like much of a problem until on the road. I hit a pothole and BOOM apple pie became apple crumble. I made it the rest of the way with the crumble in the box, and when I arrived, it was a hit with the family! The next morning I was in the garage painting the Free Spirit, when my younger brother was looking at my commuter bike. He noticed that the cycling computer's odometer said 1668 miles. I thought that was odd and paid it no mind until talking about the crumble later. I then ran to the PC and mapped my commute. I looked for the area where the pie-destroying pothole was and guess how far it was from my house. 2 miles, making the odometer reading 1666 when my pie kicked the bucket... or should I say kicked the basket.

Peace,
Ben R, Wilmington, NC"

Since I was provided with no visual aide for that saga, I was left to my own devices and came up with this shot of a sad pie;

Every time the devil makes you destroy a pie, an angel gets its wings.

And now as a final drop of the the science that Ive recently become inundated with, as Id mentioned before, our friend Joes written a really good book thats about to be released on Velopress called 'A Dog In a Hat', which of course I recommend each and every one of you read, but whats the very most especially exciting to me is that the publisher has actually quoted me at the foot of the books description on their website.

When requesting to use the quote, I replied with "you can quote the fu*king sh*t out of me, and you can quote me on that too" but it looks like they opted for the former.

It just goes to prove once again, that good things really can happen to bad people.

I believe it was Little Jewford that suggested I organize some sort of celebratory ride of the debauched/release party for the book when it finally drops later this summer, which I think to be a fantastic idea, and as the date approaches, look for details to develop. One things for sure- there will be alot of beer and mayonnaise involved, though not necessarily in that order.

And just as a tease, heres a clip of Joes 1988 Roubaix (check the results at the conclusion) in all of its yellowish, vintage porn looking glory.

.. A hugely epic battle, ultimately decided by a plastic bag.

And lastly, huge thanks go out to Tim for the use of this weeks banner shot. If youd like to see more of Tims photo set, all you gotta do is click here.

Alright, thats all Ive got for now. Like usual, we hope everybody had a nice couple of days off and are getting their groove on to shake away the Monday blues.