Sunday, December 13, 2009

It's looking a bit like Christmas

  • If finally snowed in Jackson. Quite a lot actually. 18 inches this morning and there looks to be more on the way. I've been working a bunch and the skiing is still abysmal so you'll have to wait awhile for reports. I did nordic ski up at Targhee on Friday and had a jolly time. If you have not skate skied at -20 with a poorly groomed track at 8000ft you haven't really lived. I made it 8k then though my lungs were going to prolapse out my mouth. Oscar 50K is going to be a real challenge if I keep training as little as I've been. Tourist are starting to move in and it looks to be a busy season. I just hope the folks from Jersey stay out east, they tend to be quite rude. No offense if you're from jersey, I'd be mad if I lived there too. That's all for now folks.

Dale

Monday, December 7, 2009

First update in nine months

Dear loyal readers (If I still have any?). It has been awhile since my last update. It seems in the summer there is too much to do and I'm with most of my readers so there is no need to write. I think from here on out I'll keep this a winter blog.

For those new to the blog a quick history lesson on the name "Old Man Coffee Chronicles." During the abnormally rainy month of June 2008 a group of aspiring entrepreneurs started meeting at the break espresso every morning to wait out the rain. As we grew in size we noticed the old men sitting at tables next to us. They would talk about the weather, their wives, and future plans. We found ourselves talking about the same things as the old men sitting around us. Before long we named the morning meetings "Old Man Coffee." "Old Man Coffee Chronicles" is just an online version of "Old Man Coffee" where anyone can talk about the weather, future plans, and noteworthy events of the day. I encourage anyone to send me posts and I will post them. As always, no subject is too crass or offensive for OMCC!

An update on Doug Dale:

As many of you know I left the great community of Missoula last week for my new wintering grounds in Jackson Hole Wyoming. Having spent my last two winters in the mountains of Colorado, Jackson has been quite a change. The first thing I noticed is the bone chilling cold. This place is an ice box! Wild Rockies Landscaping 1 (my 96 powerstroke diesel) has had a tough time adjusting. Every morning her 16 quarts of 15W-40 is frozen in the oil pan and she spits and sputters to life just pissed off as hell. Twice she's left me stranded at the ski area after a long day's work. I wonder if the ol' powerstroke makes it through the winter? Having a real job with real hours has been the second big adjustment. At Wild Rockies my hours fluctuate with the season, but here at the ski shop we rent skis day in and day out, all day long. It's a bit monotonous but once the season picks up I can see it will get quite hectic and should be quite exciting. That's all for now but I'll have much more in the near future.

Doug Dale

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Adam hits the stupid button..........and crashes




It's day three of the Doug and Adam ride all of California trip. Turns out I'm in awful shape and it's making Adam kind of grumpy. Adam's mood is directly correlated to his heart rate and apparently I haven't been riding fast enough to get his heart rate up. In his defense I'm riding really slow, almost embarrassingly so.

We're currently squatting at a buddies house in San Luis Obispo, which is a richer warmer version of Missoula that has traded skiing for surfing............this place rocks. Mountain biking along the coast of California has been quite a treat. Santa Cruz offers butter soft single track with large hips and stunts integrated into the trail, while San Luis is more exposed and rocky; think 100 Mt. Jumbo's in every direction, all lush and green, and you'll get the idea.
Today we met with a British fellow who offered to show us some local trail. The top of our first climb left us with two options: 1) Go down the fire road we had just climbed or 2) Blast down some super hair ball rocky single track/erosion path to the fire road below. Of course only a fool would descend the fire road so we pointed the ridgid 29ers down the sketchy path and held on. About half way down I started to lose control and hit a rock all cattywhompis, sending me into the brush. Not two seconds later Adam comes blazing by me, bouncing around like a rag doll. Anyone who knows Adam knows he can climb like a homesick angle. Unfortunately his descending prowess is akin to molasses in the freezer. To say I was surprised would be an understatement and as I watched him get close to the fire road all I could think is either he just got really really good at descending or he's completely out of control. As the last three feet of trail dropped straight vertical to the road it became apparent the latter was true. It's an awful sight to see someone go from 25mph to 0 in two feet, and watching it happen on a road full of football sized boulders only heightened the experience. Adam hit the road with such force that it cracked his helmet in two and made mince meet of his left arm and hip. I'm really surprised he got up and that neither he nor his bike suffered any catastrophic injuries. This is a warning to all of you out there, even the most calculated careful people a.k.a Adam Jensen, can be influenced by the primitive subconscious powers of the stupid button and fling themselves down a rocky slope for no apparent reason. There is no explanation for a man who normally descends in total control to suddenly try some Wade Simmons shit down a trail no ridged bike has any right to be on, let alone at the foolish speeds he was hitting. It just goes to show the stupid things men will do if given a goofy contraption (bike) and a steep hill. Personally, I'm kind of glad he fell because now he's really sore and has something other than my slow ascending to complain about.
Doug Dale

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Timmy Tuck Under

Often I hear a term I'm not familier with and have to look it up on Urban Dictionary. I heard this on the streets of Santa Cruz today

Timmy Tuck Under

A recommended way to deal with a NARB (no apparent reason boner) that won't go away. Tuck your hard on up under your belt and tighten down. If you don't have a belt, tighten your draw string. The NARB is most prevelant during a male's middleschool years. DO NOT USE this method if you aren't wearing a shirt......use the larry lash down instead.

Ex. Little Jimmy got a narb in geometry class and had to perform a covert timmy tuck under so his classmates wouldn't see.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

West Coast Goofery

I've been completely absent from the blog for no good reason. I take that back, i've been too busy skiing and surfing. Since the last installment of foolishness a lot has happened. Currently we are getting pounded into the ocean floor by waves too gnarly for novice goofs like us to be dicking around on, but oh well. Our accommodations consist of squatting in a friends back yard in Santa Cruz, CA. I picked up a mangy spring break traveler by the name of Ben Ruffatto complete with 20 stitches in his hamstring from a recent fall down some cliffs at bridger bowl. Funny story about those stitches; I had a bad sunburn yesterday and what else does the dingbat do but slap my back as hard as he could. In a rage of furry I retaliated with a roundhouse kick to his leg. He keeled over howling in pain and I realized I nailed him square in the stitches. Five minutes later he realized that if a swift kick in the leg couldn't open up the wound then he must be good to surf. I should start kicking people in their stitches more often.

Current injury report

Matt Johns: Fell biking home drunk from the bars last night decked out in st. patties green. Landed on his shoulder and head and thinks he may have a broken collar bone.
Treatment: Took a bunch of pain killers and tried to surf. Made it worse

Doug Dale: Reinjured a dormant shoulder injury having a snowball fight with some kids at Mt. Rose. A combination of surfing and beach volleyball has exasterbated it to the point where I can't paddle the board very well or spike the volleyball.
Treatment: I'll worry about it when I get back to missoula

Weasel: Sore from being a pussy.
Treatment: Nutting up

Ben Ruffatto: Twenty some stitches from a nasty fall at bridger bowl.
Treatment: Neosporin and a lot of surfing and beach volleyball. Good chance they will open up before the end of the trip

The end of our roadtrip adventure is near and it will be nice to be settled in Missoula for a bit. It looks like matty ice (i think that's his new name) is dominating the TTTT..........what a gnarly human specimen/lady magnet. I hope the team doesn't prematurely ejaculate and burn out by MTB season. We skied squaw last weekend and it was seventy degrees and sunny. The lovely Terry's made the trip from Missoula and we spent half the day skiing sketchy slush and the other half drinking corona's on the patio.......it was really fun.

Other stupid news

Matt Johns got bored one day and built a life sized naked woman out of snow on the porch of the rental property; he continues to be a constant liability.

A bear got into the cab of our truck and rummaged around. The sheriff had to get the shotgun out to scare it away. It didn't do any damage. Matt was headed out the door to beat it with a snow shovel but we warned him against such tom foolery.

Gabe Karenza is with the team and it's just a matter of time before he does something stupid.

I'm meeting up with Adam Jensen next week and he will make me ride five hours a day until I can't turn over one more pedal. He thinks shit like that is fun.

Tore my right binding out of my ski at full speed, still not sure how. Later that night I won a rock paper scissors contest at the bar and won a new snowboard........wtf?

Weasel got his first vericose vein and freaked out. I have some too. We think they're from sitting too much in the truck but really we have no clue. I don't like them one bit.

I could go on and on but I want a nap. I'll have pics soon.

Doug Dale and Crew

Monday, February 23, 2009

A lot of Snoooooooooooooooow

I think this is Eddy's long lost brother. Mick is a true backwoods Vermont dude.

I've been skiing world class powder on the east coast..........wtf? It's been snowing so much I haven't had time to do much else. Wi-Fi is about as common in Vermont as a sunny day in January so I'm having a tough time catching up the blog. I'll be in NYC tomorrow so if I don't get mugged I'll catch everyone up on the foolishness of the last week. Word on the street is Adam Jensen likes a girl in Seattle.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Mad River Glen Video

I'm too beat up and too whooped to finish a mangy review of Mad River Glen but let me tell ya, this place rocks. We got some serious video time on their website. Ryan Frey a.k.a Weasel is in the yellow jacket and white helmet and the one sliding backwards down the ravine, our Vermont buddy Mick is in the blue jacket and I'm in the red jacket making the occasional tele turn. A shout out to Eric, the marketing director at Mad River. He took the whole day off to show us around and did an amazing job. A full review is coming Thursday evening, going into a backcountry cabin so I won't get it out till then. Click on link then choose the video from Feb 17th called Fast and Firm. Enjoy



http://www.madriverglen.com/gallery_public/

Friday, February 13, 2009

The Creepiest Road in America?

It's 7:51 a.m and I'm filling my Kum & Go travel mug at Tuckers Box Coffee house in White River Junction, New Hampshire. They serve quite a good cup of drip courtesy of the quirky Vermont hippies who must run Green Mountain Roasters. The stiff cup along with a beautiful sunrise is quickly pulling me from the dour state I've been in since leaving Chicago and crossing through the first toll on the I80/90 toll road that runs east west from Chicago to somewhere in NY. I drove this stretch last year and experienced the same emotions. When you cross through the first booth you take a ticket and in return for access you give up your freedom and enter into a controlled and characterless world of claustrophobia. There is no private enterprise along the six hundred mile stretch, only an occasional state owned gas and rest area every forty to sixty miles. These state owned rest and refueling areas allow a few fast food corporations to conduct business within their feeding compounds, though every time I walked through one every vendor was shut up tight. There were hundreds of wary travelers pacing around the tiled great room, waiting in line to drink out of the turbid water fountain like strung out zombies. The gas pumps have no attendant controlling them, it's card only. What if a man only has cash and is running low on fossilised dinosaur? From what I can tell, this poor man is out of luck, for the next possible exit is most likely twenty miles away. On his quest for a gas station that will take cash he will drive under ten or twenty overpasses with cars and life on them but he will have no way to access them. There are very few ways to get out of the the toll road bubble and it's frustrating because life and freedom is literally a stones throw away. In Nebraska we got off the interstate, drove to a small town and took a run. In Iowa we did the same. Both places have a unique character, different that what I'm used to but still character. Looking back I don't have any idea what states I drove through yesturday. I think they were Illinois, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York, but how would I know. For ten hours I hardly saw a town as the sides of the road are built up quite high as to make sure no one sees what's beyond their boundaries. For ten hours I pointed the diesel east on a highly efficient transport system and now looking back I feel like I missed out on a whole section of country. And what do I get at the end of this transport portal? A $38 toll fee! I pulled off at the first exit and saw a sign that read, "free coffee with fill up." I jumped at the opportunity, topped off the truck and stumbled into the fill station. A nice, plump, mostly toothless attendant filled my cup and asked me in a strong eastern accent where I had come from. I told her I had been driving the 80/90 toll road all night and she smiled and laughed, "you look a little tired, most are by the time they get here." I think I'll take I70 on the way home. I look forward to having the option to exit the interstate and meet some fine Midwestern folk in the states that were taken from me last night.

Doug "haven't slept in 30 hours" Dale

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Great American Road Trip

Hello from the windy city. True fact, it's so damn windy and bitter cold here. I'm honored to be in the hometown of the great Joel Brown, Elliot Bassette, and of course, Horan. The great American road trip has begun. There are three of us in the F350; weasel, his girlfriend and me, the squeaky third wheel. Our first stop will be Killington Vermont where we will round up a gaggle of mangy east coast grunions. For now the foolishness has subsided, but I can guarantee you something stupid will happen upon our arrival. Till then I hope dearly that the rumors I've heard about the UM Cycling team riding hard in Early Feb training rides is false. I will be one angry ape if I return to a bunch of flaccid prematurely ejaculated riders who are already burnt out for the season. Take a lesson from our good buddy Horan.

Dale

Monday, February 9, 2009

Telluride: Dumber Than a Pencil With Two Erasers

Disclaimer: What you are about to read is true, possibly offensive and could be a bit funny. It was co written on our drive home from Telluride in the middle of a blizzard. Enjoy


Palmyra Peak. We skied the far left chute

Matt and Me atop Palmyra. 13,300ft

The bungee catapult apparatus

Working on our caveman imitations. Probably had a few beers at this point



Matt looks more like a baboon





Telluride: Dumber Than A Pencil With Two Erasers

To be able to fully immerse yourself in the content of this, one must first understand the anatomy and theory of the “Stupid Button”. A stupid button is a deranged switch of chemical imbalances in the brain, or lack thereof, which few people possess. It’s a Neanderthal trait stemming from the Sagittal Crest which has been weeded out through the correct happenings of evolution. Unfortunately, some morons still possess this crest, embedded in their thick noggins, giving them the prehistoric urge to batter and harvest woolly mammoths and elk with wooden rods or other caveman-esq utensils. What used to be a tribe’s greatest asset is now one of society’s biggest liabilities. Choices and intelligent decisions are bypassed altogether at a rapid rate and thrown out the window. The real problem does not lie with the mere presence of the stupid button but the ease with which it’s triggered and its ability to completely supersede all rational thought and judgment centers. A completely idiotic idea is pondered for a short period and immediately attempted if not carried out in full. Fuel this pre-historic foolishness with alcohol and you have a recipe for disaster that would never be considered for publishing in the Betty Crocker cookbook.

So what are a couple of men to do on a bluebird day in Telluride with their stupid buttons on hair trigger switches? Point your finger at the hairiest looking peak around, do what you gotta do to get up it, punch the stupid button and find the stupidest way down in the fastest way possible with no regard for the well being of your body.

With no snow in the last three weeks, conditions were less than optimal on day one and it didn’t take long to find ourselves bored to death with everyday runs. Access to Palmyra Peak had recently been opened to clowns who wanted to further push the thresholds of their personal limits and their time on earth. The summit is only a quick 2 hour boot pack from the top of the Prospect lift up steep steps of bullet-proof ice, scree-fields and rock. The 2 hr estimate assumes an average experienced hiker taking on the challenge in ski boots. Haggard enough to turn away most people, the two of us had a jolly laugh. “Let’s go, it’ll probably only take us 20 minutes anyways and I’m sick of the rest of this terrain.” We pointed our ambitions towards a rock outcropping at the summit resembling a Budweiser Clydesdale’s genitalia. We trucked straight up hill for about 50 minutes before the rarified air at 13,300 feet started to take its toll on our already walloped, hung-over bodies. We began to realize the seriousness of this asinine decision. The last 150 feet of treacherous hell was completed thinking of the reward that would be handed down to us upon summiting. We reached the top an hour and ten minutes after pondering this stupid idea of skulduggery. It was worth every calf-cramping step. With the amazing 14,000+ foot peaks of Mt. Snefles to the east and Mt. Wilson and El Diente to the west, we were caught standing in awe with our jaws dropped like a couple of dumb heifers. After a few pics and some cave-ape taking 20 minutes to lock into his tele-bindings, we started our decent. Nothing puckers up a sphincter like straight-lining a 45 degree chute full of shin-deep blower and rock patches scattered about with the intent of ripping you up like a cheese grater. An eternity to get up, 30 seconds of ridiculous tomfoolery to get down. Down is where we ran into our only issue. I hopped a small patch of harmless rocks only to be caught too far forward, landing in deep wind-blown crust and flipped like a rag doll bouncing off my head and landing in a mangled heap in the same position I came into the world, fetal. Here’s a shout-out to helmets, there is now a golf-ball sized dent in the front of my lid. How was I rewarded for that display of horsing around? Some Cro-Magnon ape comes up behind me, doubled over laughing like a drunken donkey. Palmyra Peak, cross it off the to-do list and go have a few frosty brews at Poachers Pub.

Day three found us in our most decrepit state of the trip, reeking like a distillery from a rowdy night out on the town that saw Dale causing a ruckus everywhere he went and Matt chasing war-pig cougars. We happened to run into another caveman from Missoula who was in Telluride doing Nordica Ski demos. For some ill-festooned reason, we thought it would be a great idea to lock our heels onto some race-bred Jet Fuel and Afterburner skis. The stupid button wasn’t pressed in this situation; it was nailed down by a fat, bald carnie in a striped leotard going for the giant stuffed panda. Telluride’s front side has some of the steepest, iciest, north facing groomers anyone could imagine pointing their skis down. Naturally the decision to tackle these runs on skis we were not familiar with was immediately bypassed faster than a famished bear puts a fish in his mouth.

We trekked to the blackdiamond groomer Milk Run for our first attempt. The 170cm Nordica GS skis underfoot felt more like snowblades and we looked at each other with stupid grins. I let out a primitive grunt, pushed off and was immediately forced into the backseat as my speed rapidly pushed deep into the red. As I began to lay the Jet Fuel’s on edge I was blown away; those Nordica’s edge better than a razor on fresh foliage. For a split second my judgement center took over and the realization hit me that should I lose it at this speed, serious body mangilation would occur and most likely parts of me would end up in a stretcher. The stupid button realized it had let another part of my brain function and immediately incapacitated the judgment center with a massive blow of adrenalin. I looked up just in time to see Matt balancing precariously on the back 5cm of his inside edge at speeds that would get you arrested on most highways. Having already put a massive dent in his helmet the day before on Palmyra peak, I was sure this awful looking flamingo balancing act would end up in the trees and give that lonely dent a sibling. His primal instincts must have taken over and somehow the baboon recovered and immediately proceeded to do something even dumber. The upcoming slope ended with a 90 degree boilerplate turn onto a cat track. Suddenly Matt comes flying by at unconscionable speeds, realizes his boneheaded error, tries to cut in early, skis chattering like a couple of chipmunks as he desperately tries to scrub speed and then drops a good ten feet onto a glare ice cat track still going mach 5. Somehow the stupid dingbat was fine. Runs two, three and four played out in much the same manner. So there you have it, a weekend in Telluride with the stupid button nailed down the majority of the time.

One more ridiculous thing to comment on. I strapped into one of those goofy dangling bungee medieval catapult apparatuses that kids normally get on. They’re fun but if you’re a male and want to reproduce later in life I wouldn’t recommend trying one more than once. Till next time that’s all we have.

Matt “dumber than a bucket of shrimp” Johns
Doug “dumber than a bucket of wet mice” Dale

Quote of the Day

My good buddy Chris Connelly has been using this one for a long time. Usually he does something stupid and gets away with it, laughs a bit, and then says, "Even a blind squirrel finds and acorn once in awhile."

Matt Johns and I have a doozy of a weekend recap on the way, just waiting for pics

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Jethro Tule


I just got back from lunch in Avon, CO, my temporary home. So here I am sitting on the deck of the Loaded Joe's coffee/pub soaking up some CO sun and sipping on a tasty double americano when a dude rolls up on a beater single speed commuter. He seemed a bit disgruntled and I noticed his chain was very loose. "What happened to your whip" I asked. "Dude, my rear hub nut things came loose, do you have a wrench bro." "No bro-bra, but in case you're not privy to rear hub nut thing sizing, what you'll need is a 15mm dude." The dude said thanks and moved along his way. After the amusing encounter I reminisced to my early days of single speeding before the advent of quick release compatible sliding reardroppouts. When our horizontal dropout redline monocog posse would go ride someone would always have to bring a 15mm craftsman open-end wrench in case of hub nut thing slippage or a flat. I remember always lusting for a Surly product called the Jethro Tule; a stubby unit with a 15mm wrench on one end and a bottle opener on the other. It fits in your back pouch and in traditional Surly tradition it's built like a tank. So for all you surly, mangy, hairy chested, beer swilling, unkept single speed bro bra dudes, I highly recommend the Jethro Tule. And after you finish with the business end, flip that bitch over and pop a beer with the party end.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Hard at Work


The Potent Heronito

Let me tell you a thing or two about a thing or two. Never drink a stiff cup of drip infused with three shots of espresso. It all started the morning of Jan 14th 2009 at Winter Park Colorado. My buddy Matt and I were having a heady organic breakfast burrito in the Coffee and Tea Market when he pointed out a drink option scribbled in chalk toward the bottom of the espresso menu. It read HERONITO……Espresso Infused Coffee. Of course anything that sounds a bit ridiculous catches my attention and my curiosity got the best of me on this one. I walked up to the counter and a dreaded out little stoner girl sloooowwwwllllllyyyyy asked me what I wanted. “I would like the strongest Heronito please.” She replied, “reeeeeaaaallllyyyyy, you know that has three shots of espresso in it. I didn’t actually know this but at this point I didn’t care, I was more curious if she would forget to ring me up or not. She didn’t and five minutes later I was back at the table sipping on 12 ounces of straight diesel fuel. To be precise, a triple shot Heronito is one cup of rich shade grown fair trade Guatemalan super roast enhanced with three shots of espresso. Needless to say, within three minutes of my first sip I stared feeling weird things happening to my body. I started to shake and talk real fast, my legs began to twitch and my sphincter started to dilate. All of a sudden it hit me, “I’M GOING TO SHIT MY PANTS!” I jumped up and ran to the little stoner girl. I must have had a terrified look in my eye. “Is soooommmmmethinnng wrooong sir?” I quickly replied, “I just drank half of the Heronito and I need to find the restroom.” Like the flip of a switch the little stoner girl snapped out of her enlightened state and all brain cells became one functioning unit. “Sir down the hall to your left, run past all the stalls to the last one, it’s the handicap stall with hand rails, you’re going to need them. HURRY SIR YOU DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME! It obviously wasn’t her first experience with the side effects of the Heronito. So I did just that. With the agility of a running back I sprinted, dipped, ducked and dodged my way through the masses to the restroom. At this point details get a bit sketchy, my mind started to go blurry and I blacked out momentarily. When I came to I was washing my hands at the sink, and I remember looking around at the other restroom patrons. It was like everyone in there had seen a ghost, it was eerily quiet and nobody was really moving. I thought nothing of it, finished washing up and headed back to the Coffee and Tea Market. I thanked the little stoner girl for her good directions and went about my day. I walked out knowing I was one of the lucky ones, having narrowly survived an encounter with the potent Heronito.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Can you relate?

I just purchased a bike (I know I'm a hypocrite but it's an investment in quality of life) and now I have no money to buy coffee so I hope this will suffice. I bet a few of you can relate to these

Stages of Drunkenness
0 - Stone cold sober. Brain as sharp as an army bayonet.
1 - Still sober. Pleasure senses activated. Feeling of well-being.
2 - Lager warming up head. Pretzles are ordered. Barmaid complimented on choice of blouse.
3 - Crossword in newspaper is filled in. After a while blanks are filled with random letters and numbers.
4 - Barmaid complimented on choice of bra. Partially visible when bending to get packets of crisps. Try to instigate conversation about bras. Order half a dozen packets of pretzles one by one.
5 - Have brilliant discussion with guy on the next bar stool. Devise fool-proof scheme for wining lottery, sort out Denver Broncos defense problems.
6 - Feel like a Demi-God. Map out rest of life on cocktail napkin. Realize that everybody loves you. Call parents and tell them you love them. Call girlfriend to tell her you love her and she still has an amazing ass.
7 - Send drinks over to woman sitting at table with boyfriend. No reaction. Scribble out message of love on five cocktail napkins and Frisbee them to her across the room. Boyfriend asks you outside. You buy him a Slim Panatela.
8 - Some slurring. Offer to buy drinks for everyone in room. Lots of people say yes. Go round the bar hugging them one by one. Fall over. Get up.
9 - Head-ache kicks in. Michelob tastes off. Send it back. Next bottle comes back tasting same. Say, "That's much better". Fight nausea by trying to play old Space Invaders game for ten minutes before seeing out of order sign.
10 - Some doubling of vision. Stand on table shouting abuse at all four bartenders. Talked down by bartender's wives, who you offer to give a baby to. Fall over. Get up. Fall over. Impale head on corner of table. Fail to notice oozing head wound.
11 - Speech no longer possible. Eventually manage to find door. Sit and take stock. Realize you are sitting in pub cellar, having taken a wrong turning. Vomit. Pass out.
12 - Put in cab by somebody. Give home address. Taken home. Can't get key in door. Realize you've given address of your local gym. Generally pleased at way evening has gone. Pass out again.

Quote of the Day

Single Speeders get off more!

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Good Calories, Bad Calories.....a new lease on life

I must say I was a bit skeptical when Adam gave me the book "Good calories, Bad calories." Hold your thoughts until you read Adam's overview. This book will change the way you live. Below in all his writing majesty I present Adam Jensen's new lease on life:

So, first of all, I don't drink coffee, I don't agree with wasting hours of the day, sitting and talking about what you could be doing,instead of actually doing it, I don't like blogs, and I used to not like fat people because I thought they were lazy. My view has drastically changed recently (about fat people, not coffee or blogs)to sympathizing with their ignorance, and to the hatred of the government, education system and companies that lie to us, and businesses that profit off it – like fast food and coffee shops. That said, I owe the discovery of the book to old man Shryock. I'm just more persistently persuasive, or annoying, depending on who you ask,at pushing my ideas on people. Not trying to convince people to change anything here, just want people to be aware of what you, society,politics, and mega-corporations are doing to the health of yourself and everyone else on the planet. Since the 50's, when government, the FDA and the American Heart Association, began vigorously promoting lowfat, high carb diets, for a plethora of idealistic and, at the time,common sense reasons, to improve Americas health, thing have gotten massively worse. Each decade, more and more are not only overweight,but obese, suffering from heart disease, high blood pressure, high LDLand VLDL cholesterol, diabetes, endocrine cancers, dementia,depression, Alzheimer's, and several other supposedly diet manageable or "genetic" diseases – as if we're recently evolving to express genes during the past 100 years we've been carrying for millions of years.Why then are we still following the same guidelines, which have been ambiguously "proven" for 100 years, to the point that the NIH just granted another $200 million to prove low fat, high carb diets will cause weight loss? If things were so clear, why are we still studyingwhy low fat diets aren't working? Unfortunately, since the powers that be, have chosen yet again, to fund the wrong studies, asking the wrong questions, due to pride, ego and political issues, or heavy corporate and pharmaceutical influence, seeking to clarify the low fat theory, in the mean time, assuming it is correct, while the right questions are assumed to be incorrect without even asking.Who has the most to lose? Big business, Coca-Cola, General Mills,GlaxoSmithKline, Pfizer, etc. Sound frighteningly like the tobacco industry? These companies know humans are addictable, and are successfully capitalizing off that little weakness. Food industries spend billions on advertising and research on maximizing taste vs.minimizing production costs, not what is beneficial to humans.Cheapest way to make something taste good, add sugar, or even cheaper,high fructose corn syrup. Pharmaceutical industry's billions of profit depends on people being unhealthy. Instead of researching how to prevent disease, it's more profitable to keep people sick,dependant on drugs. I saw a cartoon once, of a kid walking with his father by a huge factory kicking out sky filling plumes of smoke.After the son asked what the factory was for, his father explained that it was to make the little pills they have to take every morning,so they can breath the toxic smoke that fills the air… See the connection? WTF?Being immersed in oral health for the last 3 years, my obvious question is, although we are one of the most evolutionarily sophisticated beings, why would something that is apparently sobeneficial to your heart and brain so destructive to your teeth?Research has conclusively shown that acid-producing bacteria cause carious decay in teeth, only when fed fermentable carbohydrates, most notably sucrose. Sucrose, a.k.a. table sugar, is now being consumed by a typical American at 150 lbs. a year, versus 10 lbs/year 200 years ago. Why? Because we are led to believe that the only way to behealthy is to read labels, and avoid high fat foods. Look on cereal boxes, most say ADA or FDA or AHA approved to lower heart disease, or this product is a heart healthy choice. "Take the Special K challenge," eat massive amounts of carbohydrates, and still be hungry after an hour. Sweet. Point being, your body is smarter than you,and by dissolving your teeth away, it's trying to protect the vitalorgans that you are unknowingly damaging, causing high blood pressure,GI cancers, insulin resistance and obesity, from the insulin response instigated by those carbs. Ever asked why 90% of people at the gymare overweight? You think these people are there to justify overeating chunks of lard and trans fats? No, they see themselves gaining weight, so in addition to eating less fat and more carbohydrates, they workout, making themselves more hungry, feeding themselves with more"health" carbohydrates, and still getting bigger. I'm not saying carbs and exercise aren't good. Obviously fueling, refueling, and recovering with carbs during and after intense exercise is necessary.Why don't the bad side effects of eating sugar happen to elite athletes? Unlike when we are inactive, the way our body is incredibly designed, the working muscle does not need insulin to move sugar out of the blood into the cell. The problem develops when we eat mostly carbs while sedentary the remainder of the day, while in school, at the office, driving, or at home.Random thought, if fat is so fattening, and carbs are so good, then why do people get so fat drinking malt sugar filled beer? Ever thought that the starchy, high glycemic potatoes in French fries might be the problem, not the salt and oil? What about the unrefined flourin hamburger buns instead of the cheese and red meet? Or pizza crust and not the pepperoni and sausage? Or the example the writer uses,the toast and not the butter?Pippo pointed out that our ancestors lived to eat. Our only function in life was to find food, and reproduce of course. Thousands of years later, now that life is more modern and comfortable, we are obsessed with spending as little as possible on food, and as much as possible on cars, houses and toys. Crap thing is, after a while, we're sounhealthy, due to our innocent ignorance, that we can't even enjoy all those excess amenities.Last thought: why are herbivores like elephants and hippos so fat, and carnivores, like lions and tigers, so lean and fit, when both seem tolay around most of the day?I'm not trying to convince anyone to change anything, or even be persuaded by anything I wrote. I just want people to be aware thatthere is a book out there, backed by thousands of research papers,that will change your perspective about many things that influence your and everyone else's lives, and challenge you to educate yourself,in hopes to improve your quality of life - and prolong the life of your teeth. Come on, you knew as part of my growing responsibility of a soon to be dentist I had to throw that in.

Adam Jensen

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Update and Goals

It’s been awhile since my first and only post and I apologize. A quick update of my whereabouts: I’ve been in Colorado for about three weeks now, two of which were spent homeless with me moving from couch to couch, and occasionally sleeping in my car or the company truck. As one can imagine, my gumption for blogging (or anything for that matter) goes way down after a night in the passenger’s seat of my POS BMW325i. I’ll go ahead and answer your next question now. I travel around the country in a big truck and trailer and give away stuff at ski resorts from Vermont to California. Don’t ask for more detail because my job description is very nebulous and if I go into too much detail it might start to look like I don’t do much.

If you read my original post you may have gathered that I spend a majority of my time in a coffee shop bullshitting with friends about bullshit. While there may be some truth to this statement, I have come to realize since leaving Montana I haven’t spent near as much time in coffee shops and much more time in the office or on the hill. With most of my friends either in Missoula or traveling around I’ve had some extra time to contemplate life. Here is what I came up with: I’ve decided to set some goals for myself this winter, both personal and blogging related.

As many of you may have witnessed at the grizzly triathlon last year, my speedo didn’t quite fit as it should have. It really was a shame because just a few months earlier I was a member of the infamous 2000 mile bike torture test Giro D’iscovery and came out of it in the best shape of my life. Unfortunately, it’s easier to lose shape than gain it and last winters excessive drinking, rich food, and sedentary lifestyle erased any gains made during the previous summer. It took all year to regain any sort of shape and I have vowed not to do this again. So goal number 1 is to stay in at least mediocre shape. I will have more on this in a later post courtesy of Adam Jensen and his new bible “Good Calories, Bad Calories.”

On a completely different note, our country is in a bad ressession. With millions of adjustable rate mortgages (ARM’s) coming due in the next year, I suspect the next wave of home foreclosures will add insult to injury and dare I say it, possibly be the straw that breaks the camels back and sends us into a depression. For years now we Americans have been living beyond our means (myself included) and now we are going to pay the price. Thankfully my exceptional foresight has fostered a brilliant idea. I’m coining it “Operation Lean Burn.” The objective is simple: Buy what you need not what you want. I feel like the ultimate hypocrite right now because I’m the biggest consumer around, usually buying only what I want and never what I need. I’m asking for you the readers to help me on this one and I’m going to do something a bit unorthodox. Once I figure out how to use this blog, I’m going to post graphs and pie charts of my personal expenditures. I’m going to open my financial life up to you and let you control and regulate my spending. The goal is to spend as little as possible without greatly sacrificing my quality of life. We must succeed on saving money because with the housing market like it is, my company Wild Rockies Landscaping might have a tough couple of years and having a little extra saved away would be nice. So there you have it, goal number 2 is to save money

Last goal: To post entries at least a couple times a week. I don’t have the time to make daily entries but I’ll try to do three times a week, and if things are going well maybe more. Later bitches

DOUG DALE