Soldier

One of the last products of the old East German sports system still competing, Voigt is the antithesis of the stereotypical robotic athlete who came off that assembly line. Born in a small town north of Hamburg, Voigt said he had a warm, communal childhood where doors were left unlocked and "everyone took care of each other." His father worked for a manufacturer of agricultural equipment.

Voigt was bored in school, and he speculates that today, he would be diagnosed with attention deficit disorder. Instead, his parents encouraged him to burn off energy in sports, and he tested off the charts for endurance potential. At age 14, he went to a national sports school in Berlin and spent the rest of his high school years building on his raw talent in cycling and track and field. He still holds a grudge against a high jump coach who dared to say he hadn't given his full effort....

For the full story click here.

To see the crash click here.

Big Rock Candy Mountain

One evening as the sun went down and the jungle fire was burning
Down the track came a hobo hiking and he said boys I'm not turning
I'm headin for a land that's far away beside the crystal fountains
So come with me we'll go and see the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains there's a land that's fair and bright
Where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
Where the boxcars are all empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees
Where the lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains all the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hens lay soft boiled eggs
The farmer's trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh, I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains you never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats and the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey too
You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains the jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again as soon as you are in
There ain't no short handled shovels, no axes saws or picks
I'm a goin to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

I'll see you all this coming fall in the Big Rock Candy Mountains

17 days

It's takes 17 days to perform at the previous level after getting inebriated.

The Cold Within

Six humans trapped by happenstance
In dark and bitter cold
Each possessed a stick of wood--
Or so the story's told.

Their dying fire in need of logs,
But the first one held hers back,
For, of the faces around the fire,
She noticed one was black.

The next one looked cross the way
Saw one not of his church,
And could not bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.

The third one sat in tattered clothes
He gave his coat a hitch,
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the idle rich?

The rich man just sat back and thought
Of wealth he had in store,
And keeping all that he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.

The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight,
For he saw in his stick of wood
A chance to spite the white.

And the last man of this forlorn group
Did nought except for gain,
Giving just to those who gave
Was how he played the game,

Their sticks held tight in death's stilled hands
Was proof enough of sin;
They did not die from cold without--
They died from cold within.

-- James Patrick Kinney

This is a photo from the Stars and Stripes 2008 article in Issue 5 of Cyclocross Magazine about the 2008 cyclocross national championships. The photo is of the Masters Men 45-50 coming out of the first turn after the sprint start. A nice image for our Team Kaos sponsor Chipotle. It's often said by people in the know, the position you're in at the first turn is going to be close to the position you finish. I can't count all the riders ahead of me #1370, but I'll bet there's close to 62 of them up there. I started in 62nd and finished in 63rd. This was a great race experience. I had Monsignor Tucker as my Pit Man. Talk about serving the flock, wow, I'm humbled and very fortunate be a part of this.

The "D" Streeter's will rock you.

Kicking my can all over the place.

2008 in review