newyorkunicycleblog

The Cycle of Life

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Packing up the Car


We had to take more unicycles than laundry for this trip. I brought my Coker and my 29" geared uni for the long rides as well as my Qu-Ax racing uni for the races and my freestyle for some other stuff. Fiona and Emmett have their own unis, and Shirra can borrow my freestyle. There was actually more room in the car, but we decided to pack lightly! We even packed some clothing and food. What was really helpful is that we didn't need to waste space with Maeve's portable crib -- she likes sleeping in bed with the big kids, and we're happy to oblige!

The Trip to the Memphis Unicycle Convention

We've safely arrived in Memphis. I should specify that we're physically safe. Mentally, I'm not so sure. The billboards don't come in many flavors. So far, half of the roadside ads we saw were for fireworks stores or Chrismas supply stores (there are an equal number of them). Of the remaining billboards, most are for Shoney's (there is no northern equivalent, but it's like a Denny's). A good portion of billboards featured Christian themes, including a bunch of Best Western billboards that just had their name and a big Jesus fish. Almost as many were touting either Dollywood OR the Loretta Lynn compound (which includes a Coal Miner's Daughter Museum). Then there were two billboards advertising adult bookstores. Make up your mind, South!

My attempt to listen to something on the radio was met with an equally bizarre and narrow spectrum of choices. The music selections were either country (50%) or hard rock (45%), with a sprinkling of Christian music (40% -- imagine a Venn diagram, ok?). The talk radio was nonexistent except for this scary ultra-conservative station where the hosts talked about the evils of the ACLU, Planned Parenthood, and those mean people who want to get the Ten Commandments plaques out of courtrooms. It was the auditory equivalent of the Tilt-a-Whirl: scary and nauseating.

The really good news about this necka is that the speed limit is gen'ly around 65 or 70. This means that you can usually drive 74 or 79, at least if you use my calculus of speed limit + 9 = safe. We even bought a radar detector (christened Chipper) for the long drives, and it came in handy a few times (go, Chipper!) except in Virginia, where it's illegal to operate a radar detector. Apparently they even thwart you with their own radar detector detectors; I think our model comes with a radar detector detector detector, tho I wasn't sure, so I turned off the unit. The other great thing about these parts is that there's virtually no traffic, so we made the 1100-mile trip in about 1100 minutes including breaks. Well, not including the overnight we spent in the north-eastern-most corner of Tennessee last night. We drove 650 miles yesterday (from 9:30am-9:30pm) and 450 miles today (8:30-3:30). Chipper didn't come in handy in Maryland, where a trooper literally stepped into the road, hand outraised, to pull me over for 79 in a 65. See, I wasn't using my caluculus. He'd clocked me with binocs and two white lines, so Chipper had no chance to help. At least the ticket was only $80, or the equivalent of a little more than a tank of gas.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Off to the Races

Speaking of the upcoming uni convention (the North American Unicycle Competition and Convention, or NAUCC), one of the things I always look forward to is the racing. I've never taken part in the skills competitions; I'd love to put together a 3-minute routine, but I've never taken the time or put in the effort to pull one off.

Racing, on the other hand, requires little more than preregistration. On several occasions I have even shown up at the track without a unicycle (there are always so many to borrow and so many friends and acquaintances to borrow from). The one downside to borrowing is that the uni on loan is not necessarily the best cycle for the job. Still, most people don't take racing too seriously, especially in my age bracket (unlike the testy 18-24 year-old male demographic). The few of us who race in our late 30s and beyond are usually content to cross the finish line while still on a unicycle.

I, on the other hand, have always enjoyed and excelled at racing. When I was but a lad, I was the fastest runner in my small elementary school. I developed a taste for winning that was barely squelched by a lackluster semester on my high school track team. For years I enjoyed being the fastest runner on my pick-up softball teams in Central Park; since I rarely displayed any hitting prowess, it was always nice to leg out an infield single and then go first-to-third on a ground-ball out. But after high school. it seemed I'd never get a chance to race again. Then I discovered the NAUCCs.

In some upcoming entry I'll have to list all of my racing results, but I know that I've always done well within my age category. In fact, by some odd luck, I've ridden faster in each race from year to year to the point where I was the oldest competitor in the Expert heat of the 100m race last year (Expert heats have no age cutoffs), and I even finished ahead of some younger bucks. But in a few weeks, I'll be arriving in Memphis with an advantage: my Qu-Ax racing uni! I have a feeling I'll be breaking my old records again. I also have the guni (stuck in high gear) for the unlimited 10k race, which I have always done well with.

I'm definitely looking forward to the races. It will be interesting to see how I do this year since I'll be the oldest member of my age bracket (30-39). After this year, I join the 'geezer' group. The funny thing is, there aren't too many speedsters in their 30s, but there are quite a few fast riders in the 40+ group.

Guni Kaput Redux

Apparently I'm the first person to have the new hub break. The 1st generation hub had a defect that was corrected in the 2nd generation, but the problem that was fixed (accidental gear slippage) was only slightly better than the problem created by the fix (a hub stuck in high gear). OK, true, I'd rather have a fixed gear that allows me to travel fast rather than a usable gear that occasionally (and disastrously) disengages, but for $1300, I'm supposed to have the best of both worlds. Happily, I'll be exchanging my broken hub at the upcoming uni convention, but it means that I have to take apart my uni and then put it together again with the new hub. Ah well. That's what I get for being at the cutting edge of technology.

Casey at the Ball

According to Brian Lehrer's comments on NPR recently, soccer is poised to become the next baseball as the intellectual set turns its attention away from the Major Leagues and towards the world's favorite sport.

With that thought in mind, I give you:

Casey at the Ball, by David K. Stone (6/22/06)

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the US team that day;
The score stood two to three, with but four minutes left to play,
And then when Cooney got fouled out, and Barrows did the same,
A death-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
"If only Casey could but get a whack at that," they thought,
"We'd put up even money now, if Casey had a shot."

But the sphere avoided Casey and the 'mainder of his nine,
Heading for a group of green-shirts as it bounced along the line;
So upon that stricken multitude was cast a dreary pall,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the ball.

But Flynn let fly a throw-in, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, kicked the cover off the ball;
Then Zantzy passed it blindly, and old Frank gave it his most,
And when the dust was finally gone, the ball was in the post.

Then from a hundred thousand throats there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the sea,
For the US team, the underdog, had tied the game at three.

With but a minute left to go, the fans, their voices raw,
Screamed for the team to press on, not content to have a draw.
The ball was intercepted, and soon the players scowled,
For their captain, poised to take a shot, was violently fouled.

A billion eyes were on the ref, who gazed about the yard,
And millions shouted as he raised his hand to show a card,
It matched the blood shown round the world on every TV set,
And Casey knew 'twas just the keeper twixt the ball and net.

And now th'official placed the sphere upon the verdant jade,
And the keeper started pacing, as Casey moved one blade.
Close by each team stood lips in teeth, in hopefulness and dread,
"Whenever you are ready," the nervous umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted some one on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled he was ready, as the 90th minute passed,
"Here I go," said mighty Casey. Said the umpire: "Make it fast."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that chance go by again.

The sneer has fled from Casey's lip, the teeth are clenched in gall;
He pounds with cruel violence his foot upon the ball.
And now the keeper guesses left, but then he twitches right,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's might.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and children skip and roll;
But there is no joy in World Cup — mighty Casey missed the goal.

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