Greetings campers
Safely back on my home planet, and starting to feel almost lifelike again. Another successful incursion into the land of tobacco, NASCAR, kudzu, and Pawlonia trees (the ones you saw along the road with the light purple flowers but no leaves yet, just in case you were wondering what the heck those were. Beautiful flowers, ugly tree, interesting wood. Who was I talking with about invasive plant species?). Sooooo, did ya'll miss us? That big empty in your email box was the sound of the rest of the cult members, on the road and laughing. Ya shoulda been there. Seems like the perfect solution to the occasional periods of high message volume on CR. All swap meets, all the time!
Bought a few things, sold a few. Probably broke even. Dale's beautifully repainted Carlton Flyer frame was, unfortunately, too small for me. Continued a long tradition of selling one accidentally purchased non-English threaded component, and then immediately accidentally buying another. Just maintaining some strange cosmic balance, in spite of myself. However, it was cheap enough that I could afford to be wrong. (Sleep deprived, swap frenzied individual will gladly trade Italian threaded Campy bb, model unknown, for something English threaded). Favorite item purchased was a used Suntour Superbe Tech sealed parallelogram rear derailleur. Beautiful little bit of mid-80s design weirdness. Cheap enough that I won't cry when the springs break. (And they will. It's what they do.). Then, and ONLY then, will I dissect it to see what's inside.
With so many new and old friends to see, average time to shuffle between car and motel room (or between car and swap table) was around 20 minutes. With a gargoyle's eye view of the parking lot from my room, I could see the conversations were still going on down there. Talked more in two days than I usually do in a month, and still didn't meet everyone. I'll let my fingers do the talking for a few days. Too much going on to see it all and hear it all, but glad to read other people's reports and find that others also saw some of the amusing, off topic weirdness that tends to divert my attention. I was almost starting to worry about that funky growth in the bottom of my water bottle.
However, there were several items and observations that just cannot go unmentioned:
Perhaps proving that there are no bad bikes, just "troubled" bikes looking for a loving home, the lovely and talented Mr. Meral 2001, Chris Beyer, was bold enough to ride the infamous Meral both days. The unbridled optimism award goes to him for leaving the bike sitting unlocked and unattended outside the Rec Center most of the day during the swap. Of course nobody was silly enough to steal it. Better luck next year pal.
As already mentioned by Tom Hayes, The "Golden bungee cord"award goes to Joe B-Z for fitting the most stuff in and on a Subaru. (the long time official car of the state of WV, and most of New England. And if the current trend continues, soon to be the official car of the Cirque du Cyclisme. Dale, maybe it's time to hit them up for some $$ for the website.). From what I heard, but did not actually see, second runner up was Mark Poore. I may have to get involved in this little game myself. Normally the spousal unit would be concerned that I might accidentally scratch the paint (on the car), but if I mention the potential for one or more bikes to fall off and never be seen again, she'll even help load.
In the "we don't need no stinkin bike rack" sub-category, I have to add an "Honorable mention" for the two goofs who rolled up to C d'O with their bikes thrown into the back seat of a huge Cadillac convertible. Extra style points for the Hawaiian shirt. I don't think they were CR members, but judging from their sense of fun, they appear to be likely candidates for assimilation.
What was that I thought I read about a ride at a "conversational pace"? Difficult for me to talk over that horrible noise emanating from my knees. No, that wasn't chain/cog/pulley chatter. I DO know how to shift without indexing. On the plus side, miles of smooth pavement on a gorgeous day with a bunch of kooks (whenever I caught up with the peloton in the feed zones) was more fun than I can afford to miss, but more than I can possibly stand on a regular basis. Nurse! More ice!!
Sitting in the motel lobby early Sunday morning before the swap, watching others devour Krispy Kreme donuts and other variations of the Round Death, just enjoying the enthusiastic bike/swap/ride discussions going on, with a televangelist doing his thing on the tube in the background. Kept scanning back and forth, from CRers to the tube, both crowds really wound up, talking with their hands, donut crumbs flying, .... the parallels were too frightening to ponder. I could almost hear the "Sisters of Steel" choir in the background.......
In a reference to the quotation that appeared in Mark Petry's message signature today: Often guilty of said behavior, but in this case, I know why I went. Thanks Dale.
I gotta go Larry "Counting the days 'til Larz-fest" Osborn Famed bottom feeder from between panhandles in the northeastern central, almost PA, almost MD, pavement prohibited, ATV infested, we don't like no candy-***ed bicycle riders 'round here, area of "Tom Haye's Approved" WV. (Often confused with, but not the same as, western VA).