Gut Chronicles is Officially Sponsored

Yes folks, that is a new helmet on my ruggedly handsome head and it was given to me by none other than Captain Tim himself.  I realized if this was the Huffington Post or Sp@nkwire or some other uber-well known and reputable site, a used helmet wouldn't constitute a sponsorship.  But this is The Gut Chronicles and we likes to keep it real here so the used helmet officially constitutes a corporate sponsorship by Captain Tim's Wine Country Air Tours "Where you get high BEFORE you drink!" (copyright 2012).

My previous helmet was a 17 year old jobber that looked like something you'd put on a hyperactive kid to keep him from smashing his noggin at the playground so this ultra cool Specialized S-Works Prevail helmet is a serious step up for me:

I don't know what the S in S Works stands for but I'm guessing it stands for 'Sextastic' because when I wore it this morning some hot chick saw me riding along and she took off her shirt and threw her bra at me!  True Story! (Ok, really it was a bum on the SART and he threw his dirty grundies at me but still..)

Captain Tim likes to do everything first class apparently because the reviews on this badass helmet are 4.5 out of 5 stars on Cycling News and BikeRadar.com.  BikeRadar.com showers the helmet with praises like:

"Superb ventilation, lightweight and an excellent fit, with keen styling to boot"

Yes, I have been accused of 'keen styling' in the past so this helmet is the right one for me!

Big shout out to Captain Tim!

Worst Ride Ever...

The goal today was to do a family bike ride and to get to see my buddy Jed's new bike.  Jed and I have been friends since the 2nd grade and back in the day, when I rode my bike to go meet him somewhere, it usually meant something was going to be set on fire in the Torrance/Lomita area.  Well, they say history repeats itself and today it did.  Turns out Jed got a new bike for his birthday so we agreed to meet at a park off the trail by both of our houses and have a family picnic.  Seemed like a great idea and we had a nice time but fuck me if it wasn't one of the coldest days in the history of planet earth.  If the cold and cloudy day wasn't bad enough (keep in mind folks, we're talking Southern California here so spare me with your dumbass winter stories.  Don't live where it snows, that's my advice), some old hag honked at my family and me on our ride home and it nearly caused my youngest daughter to crash.  I wanted to throw a brick through that crusty old bitch's rear window but I didn't think it would be a good idea for my daughters to see me go DEFCON 1 on some old lady so the best I could do was slowly mouth an extremely vulgar description to the old broad when we rode past her at a stop light.  Trust me, if that hag can read lips, she understands I don't mess around when it comes to profanity...everything is on the table with me.

Long story short, if anyone had told me back in 1982 that in 30 years, Madonna would be doing the half time show at the Superbowl, Whitney Houston would drop dead from too much booze and dope, and I'd still be riding my bike to the park to meet Jed, I'd tell them they were f&cking crazy.  Well...turns out its not so crazy after all.

Bonus material:

Here's me and Jed back in the day when they devoted an entire page to the two of us in the 87 page yearbook our school had our senior year (87 pages included K-12th grade):


Clockwise from the upper left:  Jed and me in Paris at L'arc de Triomphe, Jed and me after winning a football game...again, Jed and me back when it was still legal for two dudes to get married in California (I was the masculine one, Jed was the she-dude), and Jed and I hanging out with Maria at the Calico Country Fair (and no, Maria is not giving me an 'old fashioned', get your mind out of the gutter)

Serena is On the Disabled List

Well for f*cks sake, when I was almost home yesterday I blew out another spoke.  To say the spoke issue is depressing is a major understatement, that's the third one in a month.  For one, I didn't get to ride to work today.  For another, I had to pedal my bike the last half mile home with a wobbly wheel like some spazz.  Not as important but equally lame, I'm starting to feel like the dork kid who got a Huffy for Christmas when all of his friends got a Mongoose, Redline, or, the most badass 1980's BMX bike of them all, the PK Ripper.

Feeling dejected and like my bike sucks, I did some research online today and discovered the following:

• Spoke breakage is totally unrelated to weight so you comedians can save your comments about my ass being too big to ride a bike.
• Apparently, once you break one spoke, it causes stress on a bunch of the other spokes because the wheel tension is off so further broken spokes are almost certainly going to happen if you don't have a serious professional re-do the wheel
• I'm a well hung stud who ladies love (ok, that wasn't online but its true)

So, like all Americans, rather than taking any of the blame myself, I decided to blame my local bike store and find an authorized Specialized repair place and go there.  After a quick search on Google and Yelp, I found The Path Bike Shop in Tustin, CA.  Feeling like there might be some light at the end of the tunnel, I informed my co-workers that I'd be 'working from the road' and rushed home and went to The Path.  When I got there, I was surprised...simply put, this unassuming bike shop is seriously badass. 

I brought Serena inside and found the repair dude and, while trying not to cry, explained to him that I kept breaking spokes.  The guy assured me that even with my large size and fully loaded dual pannier bag, there's no way weight is an issue.  Apparently the stuff I read online is correct and once you break a spoke, its likely they'll keep breaking because of the uneven tension created by the first one.  He checked all the spokes and showed me that there were three other ones getting ready to go.  Bike repair guy suggested I get a new wheel and it would be sixty bucks.  I told him to get me a new wheel at once.  He then, sheepishly suggested that since I ride nearly every day, I may want to get a 'nicer' wheel.  I braced myself for the price tag of the 'nicer' wheel but then he said "That will be like....eighty-five dollars".  HOOK ME UP DUDE!!!  At this  point I was already thinking about how much I love The Path Bike Shop and then "Sappy" by Nirvana came on the sound system and it took my love of this heretofore unknown bike shop to a whole new level.  Unfortunately, my joy soon came to an end when bike repair guy told me he'd need to order the new wheel and it would be a week.  As soon as bike repair guy said I'd be waiting a weeek, Nancy Nofun at the cash register changed the song to something lame.  Long story short, Serena is in the hopefully capable hands of bike repair dude at The Path Bike Shop.  So far the gear, bikes, knowledgeable staff, etc. at this joint seem to be totally legit.  As long as they get Serena back to me in top shape, they'll have a customer for life.

The only part of this whole experience that made no sense to me whatsoever was the conversation I had with my wife when we were leaving the bike store.  It went as follows:

Me:  "Well, that place was cool and I think $85 sounds like a good deal.  Hopefully the new wheel will mean I don't get stranded anymore"

Wife:  "Hahaha...Serena's getting new shoes.  You spend more on her than you do on me!"

Me:  "Oh geez...you've gotta be shitting me"

Wife:  "No, if your bike's getting new shoes, I should get new shoes"

Me:  "What the f*ck are you talking about?"

Wife:  "I should get a new pair of Christian Louboutin shoes"

Me:  "Don't those things cost like eight hundred bucks a pair?"

Wife:  "Well, you're spending $85 on new shoes for Serena!"

Me:  "What??  That doesn't even make any sense.  What are you talking about?"

Wife:  "Yup, you'll see"

Me:  "I'll see what????"

Wife:  silence....

I'll miss you Serena, get well soon.