Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Dear Lord,


It's me...Sally.
I'll never ask anything from you ever again...if you could PLEASE stop pictures from SSCXWC from showing up on the Internet.
Thank you.

{Boy do I know how to debate!}



{it felt this trippy...}


{when they say run up...they mean it}


{I can still hear this body slam when I close my eyes}

{ummmmmm....yeah.....}



{Enouragement for the ladies?}


My good friend (????) Kelsey is responsible for ALL of this. You can see more pictures and his write up here or if your smart...you'll skip that debauchery and check out his amazing book Kwa Zulu and place an order.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Five On Each



In a previous life I was a USA Cycling Team mechanic.
Specifically, Iwas the US National Sprint Team mechanic.

I was the guy at the Velodrome 2 hours before everyone else, and 2 hours after everyone left.
I was the guy who set up the pit area. Hauling in (and out) all the tools, rollers, wheels, and necessary equipment needed by hand. Everyday.
I was the guy pumping up 20 sets of tires to 180psi, everyday, one handed, by myself. (no one has made a pump 'chuck' yet that'll stay on by itself at that pressure)
I often spent hours working on a bike...for 10 seconds of racing.
I was the guy gluing tires till 3am. Glue in one hand. Beer in the other. Glazed look on my face provided by all three.
I was an international traveler and a master of getting through customs with 20 pieces of checked baggage.
I kept an extra bag at my apartment that was pre-packed and ready to go out the door as soon as I walked in.
I had the stamina of Semi-Truck driver all goofed up on Amphetamines as I drove bikes across the country to the next race.
I was a friend.
I was a "soccer mom" to the athletes because I had the keys to the only vehicle where ever we went.
I was a villain.
I took verbal lashings for no other reason than "I was there".
I endured the stress of knowing a lifetime of training and dreams could be undone in the fraction of a second if something broke.


In 2 1/2 years I helped riders obtain National, World Championship, and Olympic titles.
After 2 1/2 years, I walked away with all of my fingers.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Breaking Leaves


Leaves have fallen.

Nights are colder.

Layers are thicker.

Beer is darker.

And I'm in love with the sound of leaves shattering under my tires.