I Can’t Keep That Up For Long

I have this very annoying squeak in my dash that I have tried to fix (not real hard yet, see April 20th) I can make it stop if I hold the toe of my left foot against the bottom of the dash, but I can’t keep that up for long. Got to use the left foot for the clutch and it is an awkward stretch. The temperatures are warming up and soon my mysterious over 85 degrees glove box rattle will be back. I wonder if the squeak will disappear as the rattle appears? I call it the glove box rattle but that is not what is causing it, as I removed the box entirely last summer, but the rattle is still there. It was getting louder by the day, but once the temperatures cooled down it went away. I was waiting for a real hot day and have it suddenly stop, so I could look in my rearview mirror and see the part that was rattling fade away into the sunset.

Purchased Today: nothing
Money spent since 03/03/03: $142.33
Started down, still down.
Top Transitions since 02/02/03: 66

Hudson Hawk

Borrowed Hudson Hawk on DVD from a friend at work, I think I deserve either a medal or some commitment papers for lasting 1 hour and 1 minute into this movie before hitting the eject button. I like Bruce Willis usually, but this must have been something he shot during a hiatus of Moonlighting, back when he was grasping with being a “star.” As a bonus bit of ugliness it had my least favorite movie actress of all time in it, Sandra Bernhard.

Giant Stop Signs

When came back from the weekend trip we noticed that they had replaced the puny new stop signs on Two Notch Road with King Kong sized stop signs. I guess people were still cruising through them so to help out our no-account, not paying attention drivers to notice the signs. For reference standard stop signs are 30 inches across, these puppies are 48″ and require two posts to support them. They have even put two orange flags on the “Warning Stop Ahead” signs.

PCC Hat

I try to be polite by taking my hat off while eating. It is kind of like not putting your elbows on the table, not always practiced anymore, but just a small nicety that I hope people appreciate. I either hang the hat over the back of the chair or try to hang it off my knee and invariably it falls to the floor in the normal dining movements. Most of the time I remember it and search the floor or I don’t remember and get lucky by accidentally kicking it when getting up to leave. For the second time in 3 months I left my Palmetto Cycling Coalition hat behind in a restaurant. The first time we were near Charlotte, NC so we could go shopping at a big ol’ mall. When I got back to the hotel and realized that the cap was gone we called them and they had it. Rather than make a return trip that evening I told them I’d get it the next day when we were over there again. This time we were in northern Georgia following a bicycle race. We had dinner at the fine establishment of Pruett’s BBQ, so I didn’t even really need to take it off, but did. When I got back to the motel this time and realized I’d left it behind again, I just said forget it. It was raining and I didn’t want to drive back the 10 miles to get the hat. Tomorrow we were leaving town early and weren’t coming back, so that option was out. Figuring it must be fate that I don’t have that hat, I abandoned it in rural western Georgia. Anyway, I’ve got a spiffy new Master’s Miata Club hat to start wearing around waiting for me at home.

No Trespassing

We had downloaded the route directions for yesterday’s and today’s stages from the Tour web site and used this to plan our viewing strategy. Using it and the Georgia state map we had, worked out real good for Friday, but for the life of us we couldn’t follow all of Saturday’s route. They had to be using some roads that weren’t on the map. We decided to get up earlier and drive the route from just past Ellijay to pick our first viewing spot. Using the printed directions and the orange arrow signs that get put out early, tracing the route was easy. Sure enough they were riding on roads that were not on the big state map. When we stopped for a soda break on the drive there was a Georgia Mountains map that showed the roads they were riding, so we bought it. Our original plan was to find a spot on the second King Of The Mountain climb to watch them pass, but realized if we did that there was no way to leapfrog the rolling blockade and make it to the finish before the riders. Plan B was devised. There was a cool little one-lane bridge the riders crossed outside of Ellijay that looked like a nice spot and it also had quick access to GA52 so we could get by the riders and make it to Gainesville to see the finish.

We made it back to the bridge with about an hour to kill waiting. We spent the time chatting some locals who had come out to watch thinking it was going to be like one of those charity rides. After we indoctrinated them a van of race volunteers showed up to sweep the gravel off the bridge. We tried to get them to come back with us and sweep the course of our next bike ride, but they would only do it if we would drive them around and feed them too. After a breakaway group of 6 cyclists passed over the bridge a couple of motorcycles skidded to a stop just past us. The official Tour photographer was on one and the official Tour videographer was on the other. The video guy hopped a fence, oblivious to the “No Trespassing” sign, and set up shop to the right. The photographer must have thought we were in a good spot as he came over and stood next to me. He was actually balanced on the guardrail to avoid the poison ivy I was standing in (I’m not allergic, so it doesn’t bother me) and needed to lean up against Donna to keep from falling off.

After the race passed, we got on GA52 and headed towards to finishing city. About 10 minutes into the trip a GA State Trooper car comes flying up from behind with his flashers and siren going. I slowed and pulled half off the road expecting him to zip on by as the road ahead was clear, but instead he stayed right behind me until I got all the way off the road. Then he took off around me. WTF? So I got back on the road and started driving again. 30 seconds later I found out why he wanted me off the road. A line of about 25 state patrol cars with lights flashing and sirens going came careening by at 70+. They were doing the same thing I was, leapfrogging around the race, only unlike me, I’m sure they were off to block the roads somewhere ahead of the pack.

Because the cyclists still had a mountain to climb we got to Gainesville with plenty of time to kill. We had a leisurely lunch, toured the festival area (again not going for official Tour jerseys at $70) walked back to where we had lunch and had an ice cream dessert before setting up shop on the 3rd floor of a parking garage 20 feet from the finish line. We watched the breakaway group of 6 charge the line with Fred Rodrigeuz winning the sprint, for his second stage win in a row. About 5-1/2 minutes later a chase group of 12 or so finished up. It was then about 10 more minutes before the rest of the peleton arrived. Of course they had to sprint to the line in a testosterone induced and meaningless fight for 20th place.

When the dust settled we hoped back in the car and drove back north to a town the riders had passed through earlier in the day to spend the night. If you are ever in Dahlonega, GA, I highly recommend Caruso’s Italian Restaurant, their pizza is excellent.

Purchased Today: $12.00 in gas
Money spent since 03/03/03: $130.82
Started up, went down, went up, still up.
Top Transitions since 02/02/03: 63

Concrete Parking Stops

You know those 6″ high things that are there to prevent you from pulling to far in? Well because of the lowered stance of the Miata I have to be very careful how close I pull in and park anywhere. This one snuck up on me in a restaurant parking lot. It was the first in a line in the middle of a run. The usual visual clues were misleading as the car to my left could actually pull up closer because of the staggered shape of the sidewalk. Fortunately this one was short enough that it only scraped the bottom of the spoiler on the way in. On the way out, because that was now against the shape of the spoiler it made an ugly noise, but didn’t do any more damage. Luckily all these bits are made of flexible space-age polymers, if they had been custom fiberglass parts I’m sure shards of my front end would still be lying there in the parking space.

Rolling Party

We were in western Georgia to follow the Tour de Georgia professional bike race. We used to do this back in the early/middle 90s for the Tour DuPont in North Carolina and we were looking forward to doing it again. Our plan is to try and catch the race as it passes by in one or two spots then heading to the finish line to see the riders come in. Today’s plan was to drive south and catch them near Franklin, leapfrog around them to see a sprint in Cedartown, leapfrog again and end up in Rome for the circuit finish.

Our timing in Franklin was near perfect. We were the 4th car back when the State Troopers shut the intersection in front of us. The riders were going to the left and our escape route was back the way we came in. We got out of line and parked in a local eatery’s parking lot. Donna and I picked a good spot near the apex of the turn to watch them come around that curve. While we waited we chatted with a fellow from Rome who had talked the local paper into letting him cover the race as a freelancer. As it turned out our spot was about a 100 yards after a feed zone for the riders and after a while he headed down there to try and get a picture or two. Pro racers don’t pull into a country store and get a bottle of Gatorade like we do on a Club ride, each rider gets a bag with water bottles of water and/or fruit juice, some power bar things and/or the snacks of their choice. They ride right by, while team support members hand them a little bag while they pass. The riders then take what they want and ditch the rest. Apparently it is good fun to try and toss this stuff near spectators as they pass because they make nice souvenirs. Here I am looking through a viewfinder trying to take pictures and all of a sudden water bottles and mussets start landing around my feet with splats. I felt a little like one of those guys in those old western movies that the gunslinger fires bullets at the ground near him and says, “Dance.” We picked up three bags and about 7 water bottles to take home. After they passed we went in to Buddy’s where we parked and had some lunch. Figured that was the least we could do for parking there. Besides it would take a few minutes before the traffic would clear. Donna and I split a fried catfish dinner and it was pretty darn good.

Because we had a sit down lunch we were going to be too late for the sprint in Cedartown, so we just headed up the road to Rome. About the time we got into town, just as they were closing the streets, it started to rain lightly. The rain only slows the cyclists a bit on turns, nothing stops these guys. After zigging and zagging around the closed roads we finally made it into downtown by blind luck and ended up parking just a block or two from the finish line. There was a three lap circuit around the streets of Rome before they actually crossed the finish line, so we would get a few good chances to see the racers flash by. While we waited for the rolling party to arrive we checked out the festival area near the finish were they always have sponsor booths and a souvenir stand and of course the jumbo TV for watching highlights of yesterday’s stage. At the Tour DuPont (or France) it would have real time race coverage, but this is only the first year, maybe after this Tour is established they’ll get that too. After we watched the racers do the initial pass of the finish line, Donna and I then made our way towards the Clock Tower to see these guys struggle up a mean assed little hill that we learned about earlier. I don’t know what the grade was but it looked like a climb of about 100′ of elevation at about a 50 degree angle. These guys are awesome machines who usually average near 30 miles an hour for a 130-150 mile ride, but they were reduced to 8 or 9 MPH by this bump in the road. We even saw one rider resort to tacking up the hill like a weekend duffer.

Because it was still raining we didn’t stick around much, we just headed back to our hotel in Cartersville about 25 miles away. Fortunately the cable was back on so we could check the Weather Channel to see that tomorrow looked like a nice sunny day for the riders (and us spectators) in the mountains.

Purchased Today: $12.25 in gas
Money spent since 03/03/03: $118.82
Started up, went down, went up, back down, back up, still up.
Top Transitions since 02/02/03: 61