tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-299081852024-03-13T21:13:07.667-06:00optimism, redefinedDagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comBlogger389125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-56089605320173625482012-07-17T12:50:00.000-06:002012-07-18T12:31:30.795-06:00post traumatic
war feet (image by lunar/solar)
The Crusher in the Tushar is
not meant to be embarked upon lightly. Claims of its extreme difficulty
are far from hyperbolic, as they are confidently verified by olympians
and professional cyclists alike. The race format is unique in that
riders are allowed to choose the bike upon which the punishment is doled
out. There isn't really a wrong choice, becauseDagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-34130272901072456212012-02-29T17:17:00.002-07:002012-02-29T19:24:29.300-07:0029 days hath intolerable monthsI feel somewhat obligated to take time out of my busy blogging/copywriting schedule (pursuits largely spent picking navel lint and staring at the wall) to haphazardly drum up a post for today, considering this super fun 24-hour extension to the calendar's least-favorite month, only rolls around once every four years.
Here's a fun fact about leap year: I once dated a girl who was born on Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-2383852028382428802012-02-26T21:26:00.002-07:002012-02-26T21:27:24.643-07:00jean's knees got holes, and there's gum on my shoe
into the blue, wild and cold
Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-52470061667047617622012-01-15T23:42:00.000-07:002012-01-15T23:52:44.423-07:00martial mixology: the DI reviews a filmConsidering I would rank it somewhere between watching shirtless rednecks drive homemade vehicles up steep hills, and betting on underground cockfights in dirty Mexican warehouses, I don't hold the practice of mixing martial arts (better known as "em-em-ayye," to the hyper-beefcake correctionists clad in TapOut-branded tees) in very high regard. A truly graceless sport for the graceless, if Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-83150380222604867042012-01-11T12:09:00.000-07:002012-01-11T18:59:28.045-07:00effing busyWay back in the year 2005, before fading into relative obscurity, the Beastie Boys handed out camcorders before a marquee show at The Garden, and instructed the recipients to shoot however, and whatever they wanted at the show. The resulting grainy, amateur footage turned in was compiled and used to create the aptly titled theatrical release...
"Awesome, I Fuckin' Shot That."
That's sort of Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-82032874104026580552011-11-28T23:57:00.001-07:002011-11-29T13:35:36.644-07:00illusions of speed
fast-twitch
You rise out of the saddle and tighten your grip on the bars. As your legs open the throttle, the drivetrain reacts sharply to the urgent request for acceleration, and the bike snaps forward, out from under you, as though it's trying to escape.
If that kind of euphoria ever wears thin, I'll take up golf.
Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-41063957083460558832011-11-21T01:17:00.000-07:002011-11-21T22:20:24.945-07:00cafe mcleanThe present-day grocery store is a warzone. A veritable hellhole of conspicuously edible chemicals, and cleverly disguised, genetically modified organisms in otherwise innocuous foods we've deemed safe, or healthy. But are they really? Granted, we're not buying napalm in the morning, or depleted uranium shell casings in the bulk aisle, but at the rate the modern digestive system is collectively Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-46946743890326758692011-11-06T22:27:00.004-07:002011-11-06T22:27:36.391-07:00mansion on the hill
Here, at the edge of town, in the summer, all the lights would shine and the music would play. But now, those joyous melodies are muffled, their guests chilled and reaching for warmer skin. Winter's creep caught even the foliage off guard, leaving the sun unsure whether to shine or vacation in more temperate climates.
Hell, I wouldn't blame him. Assuming, of course, that the sun is indeed a 'Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-66468125448971875642011-10-23T23:26:00.000-06:002011-10-28T09:39:11.165-06:00changing of the guard
ch'nelly
I remember with perfect clarity the evening we all gathered at Trees for a DVD premiere I knew nothing about. "Something about bicycles," I was made to understand. "The crew from San Francisco. They ride track bikes," Nobu told me. "And they just made a movie about it."
And an hour and a half later, I had definitely seen something about bicycles, but in the same way that Blind's Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-62619014127763606732011-10-19T23:21:00.000-06:002011-10-19T23:21:17.383-06:00velo narcissisté
fleeting summer lines
Goddamn tragedy, October's nearly expired.Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-21697052279995289772011-09-03T11:07:00.000-06:002011-09-03T11:10:26.802-06:00le tour of utah
cleft-chinned and exceedingly handsome PR specialist,
George Hincapie warms up for the prologue stage
One year ago, I did a fairly commendable job of completely missing out on the Tour of Utah, despite feeling genuinely interested when it rolled through town (and literally past my doorstep). Perhaps I was too busy being a totally radical bicycle messenger, or simply couldn't be arsed to Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-16269421739912405492011-08-31T23:31:00.001-06:002011-09-01T13:01:24.018-06:00one red thread
Cycling, just like any other wheeled pastime, is really just another glorified means of rolling around. There is no greater cause for which to strive, no lives to save, only rolling. But the truth is, it's saved me. Finding that indescribable sense of freedom in these mountains, through rolling and suffering, and suffering and rolling. Freedom saves. It is analogous to life in that through Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-8091253891565317212011-08-28T23:25:00.002-06:002011-08-29T09:08:08.758-06:00lightning rodBig storm tonight, rolled in fast out of the desert. Set the Nex3 up with a 30 second shutter, and sat back to wait for lighting to strike the Mormon anthill.
didn't take long
I think that one fired while I was brushing my teeth.
Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-3916523025363931502011-08-17T20:02:00.003-06:002011-08-17T21:04:58.202-06:00dime in the swear jar
shooty mcshooterson
I'll be the first to admit this isn't much of a game review, considering the multiplatform shooter Bulletstorm was released way back in February of this year - which, in the rapidly evolving world of video games, might as well have been February of 1956. Either way, it matters little - this is simply an observation that couldn't be ignored, after watching the end credits Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-53958218915503574822011-08-14T22:42:00.004-06:002011-08-14T23:02:12.643-06:00le tour recoveryThe Tour of Utah came to its spectacular conclusion today atop Snowbird Resort in the Little Cottonwood Canyon. Somewhere between the last week of zipping between waypoints, and swinging cowbells, I managed to sneak in a photograph or two thousand. Some of beautiful bicycles, some of suffering on climbs, and some of podium elation. But rather than sift through and post any number of the potentialDagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-32003202902693653152011-07-06T11:38:00.006-06:002011-08-14T22:55:19.077-06:00lot's sometimesBicycles are strange. And the people who ride them, even stranger. Fiercely communal, and fiercely maternal - almost to a fault. But the strangeness of the bicycle is more than a way of life; rather an extension of self-expression and freedom. And when our means to access the manifestations of those expressions are compromised - our bicycles are stolen, or our friends injured by a larger Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-75854249440741562632011-06-16T01:20:00.002-06:002011-06-16T01:23:25.198-06:00new drink for the old drunk
chased the sunset up capitol reef, and won
Home from St. George, I finally had a chance to wipe down the BMC. Dried droplets of sweat and Gatorade off the carbon top tube. Coffee stains on the white Easton stem. Simple evidences that the finish line came neither quickly, nor easily.
The above photo (check out a few more here) was snapped upon completion of my second stage. With my bike now Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-31064068628422759512011-03-31T21:26:00.007-06:002011-04-06T16:37:20.373-06:00devil is in the details
carefully curated
all aboard, off to the bike shop
It was suggested that I break a bottle of champagne over the top tube in celebration of the completion of my little project. I opted for a sprint up the canyon instead. Now that the BMC has been properly christened, a photo is in order:
bonner city
Every piece from the Force drivetrain, to the TRP calipers, right down to the bar tape, Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-31277459788718532052011-03-11T00:49:00.002-07:002011-03-11T12:08:29.258-07:00______ in the makingThe way I see it, there are understood to be two schools of thought in buying a bicycle. The foremost, would be to attend a prestigious law school, whereupon graduation, sauntering into a bike shop and dropping thirteen thousand dollars wouldn't seem like much, after having already spent ten years in academia, hemorrhaging cash and common sense. "Getting back in shape," a justifiable and highly Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-28828116946690570442011-03-02T15:47:00.002-07:002011-03-02T15:51:35.901-07:00wolves in wolves' clothingThe following is a real complaint email I sent to a small New York interior design company who (depending on the outcome) shall not, for the moment, be named. Years in front of a keyboard hammering out jaded responses to customers who allow themselves to be angry, often without rhyme or reason, seemingly conditioned to weasel and coerce CS representatives into getting what they want, when all Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-25388725221132681602011-02-14T19:10:00.004-07:002011-02-16T09:55:08.421-07:00sunday services in gnarniaWarm sun and smooth asphalt might remain the center of a particular two-wheeled universe, but how could one ever expect to appreciate his place in this world, without first taking the time to sample and appreciate the religions of fellow brethren?
schralp-worthy synagogue
"three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the gnar"
Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-55440580254640344942011-01-19T18:38:00.000-07:002011-01-19T18:38:16.925-07:00inspiring prose for '11Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-48557968014874345132011-01-12T23:02:00.005-07:002011-01-12T23:23:14.789-07:00send in the canaries
clean as a whistle above 8000
Utah is a beautiful place, home to the "best powder on earth." But the unique geography and climate here that give powderwhores the world over something to get radical in and write home about, is also responsible for a unique brand of "inversion" - something a little more sinister than a few powdery face shots. The legendary high-pressure systems over the Great Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-49617904778742599282011-01-04T20:26:00.003-07:002011-01-04T20:35:52.590-07:0014 degrees outside
...but inside? Kinda busy making summer plans.
Dagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29908185.post-72119416094722897172010-12-28T00:16:00.003-07:002010-12-28T00:21:31.161-07:00fixed on OKYThis project started organically, and as small as could possibly be imagined. With my Canon G10 riding shotgun, I'd snap random photographs of my friends riding their bikes, and scrawling shorthand notes about their character and style, in moleskine margins. And as I sat at Starbucks in the Omote-cho, hiding from the withering summer heat outside, those notes took shape on my laptop, growing intoDagberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10679659933687912718noreply@blogger.com