5.13.2012

It's not what you ride, it's how you ride it

Sold:  My five year old Redline Monocog 29er 
If web searches for drugs (doping) and sex (around Easter this blog was getting search traffic for terms like "Dirty Easter Pictures") - because of this post -- I hope all that clicked through were disappointed) are seen as illicit, or at least tawdry, then the main source of legitimate search traffic to this blog through the years was my steel, rigid, 1x9, 29er mountain bike.  There appeared to be quite a bit of interest in this particular bicycle configuration.

Anyhow May is bike swap season and I put my old Redline into a local swap and someone snapped it up.  I hope that the bike's new owner appreciates its simplicity and unforgiving precision.  No suspension will teach one to choose a line carefully and to think twice before doing anything dramatically foolish.

I tend not to get emotionally connected to things (cars, bikes, etc.) but I have to say that this bike proved to be an excellent value and something that provided lots of entertainment and fitness for me through the years.

The bike was five years old, however and pretty worn -- have endured lots of hard riding, with relatively little maintenance -- so I decided it was time for something new, although what exactly this may be has not been decided yet.


5.05.2012

Looping and recursive

Walking in the spring woods, I came upon this:

What is it?  See here

Which made me think of this figure, the narrative line, illustrated -- because words on a page form a very imperfect reflection of reality --  from Tristram Shandy:


-- a somewhat appropriate allusion to the looping and digressive nature of this blog, except that it is still too linear, and implies forward motion and progress, something that seems mostly lacking in my penurious, precarious and middle-aged life.  

These thoughts in turn hurled me back in space and time and reminded me of my days in college where I obstinately followed a course of study distinguished mostly by its deliberate obscurity and utter lack of utility in the workplace.   Although it could argued that reading lots of Boswell -- who I see as a kind of ur-blogger, a prototype of today's self-made, self-promoting social media celebrity -- is good preparation for living in the 21st century. 

But the closer and more immediate triggers for these thoughts and considerations was the fact that my 25th college reunion draws near and I'm not at all sure I want to go.  I'll see if I summon up the nerve to return to the scene many awkward encounters and discomfiting situations.