Update.

At this point I hoped I could talk at length & in depth about the progress of the Trek Store of Santa Rosa. I would talk to you about which colors I had chosen for the building, and where I was putting the tech center. The fact is that I am in the same place I was in 6 months ago. The fact is that things just move super slowly here. The fact is that there are just no acceptable retail locations here. There is no new construction, no real city planning, no parking & no money to invest into new projects. This has left deep impressions on my patience.

For lack of a better word, “faith” has replaced optimism.

It’s not that just the Commercial real estate market is abysmal here; the Residential situation is arguable worse. Trying to find a reasonable sized dwelling for at or below what my mortgage was in Madison is near impossible. I have been told that, because the College just went into session, this was the WORST time to be looking for affordable living. I have spent about $600 in hotel fees just looking for a place to live. Everyday, up at 7, on the fixie and about town checking up on Craig’s List postings and looking for newly posted For Rent signs.

In California’s defense, I am not the easiest fellow to please when it comes to a) living quarters and b) business real estate. I refuse to live in an apartment “complex” & will not accept wall to wall carpeting as a “perk”. I will not accept that Californians are “use to” having to pay for parking and walk a block to get anywhere.

So agreed, a lot of my troubles are self inflected. It’s not that I am some glutton for punishment or that I like taking antacids. I just like what I like and have for the first time in my professional life, the opportunity to do things as much my way as I ever have.

Some say that I cannot make decisions. I say that not making a decision is indeed a decision to be made.


I will beat California. I will not let it win.

-gg

The Gates of Hell

Albeit for me to say, Great America is about half as cool and twice as dirty as I recall from my youth. My right arm still hurts from getting slammed around from the classic rides of my adolescents, such as the Eagle, the Demon & the Viper; all wooden rides that should have been torn down a decade ago.

My three day headache and future aneurysm were worth it, as I was able to spend quality time with the nieces and nephew.


Get use to this view girls. Anyone with this much energy will definately be going to jail at some point in their lives.


Pretty much the coolest uncle ever made.

1st, 2nd & 3rd place loser.

Mo' and I took some PBR's and headed out to watch ID take on Silicon Valley's best 4's in a do or die race around a research park. They say knowledge is power, and from experience comes knowledge. If I had known the experience of what it was like to go to an amatuer bicycle race, on a 110 degree day, sit in a parking lot and watch over priveledged white men ride in circles for hours, and not actually be a participant; I could have saved half of my relationships by not asking my girlfreinds come along.

Lesson learned; I need to be a participant next time.

Well, atleast Mo' and I had the foresite to bring some beers' along for the ride. Although we got caught up people watching and admiring the size of a horses hum hum, missing the finish of the race all together, we did get to snap a shot or two and re-live EVERY SECOND post race with ID himself.

I'll give it to him; he rode a smart ride, sitting in back the whole time only to react that split second to late to get beat by himself, but also to just nip himself at the line. A 1,2,3 finish for the Dew-man!!

Very exciting stuff!

road kill

Mar' had a bunch of North Facers meet at the Ranch at 6am (thanks for that) for the LiveStrong Ride out of San Jose. About 15 of them showed up between 6 & 7am. Luckily Ian had woken me up at 5am (thanks again) to watch the Tour so I already had 3 cups of Joe and was bright eyed & bushy tailed by the time the livestronger's arrived.

A bunch of energetic 30 & 40 somethings milled around the compound airing up, changing & josling for attention & recognition. None for you; especially so early.

Ian & I decided to poach about 20 miles of the ride heading down to the hole on our way to Coe & a 1 hour march up & up & up. 6 hours later I had run out of water twice and Ian had 6 bottles in him. Hard day in the saddle, but super sweet. I lost 6lbs to get under 170 for the 1st time since Highschool.

Upon arriving home Ian & I discoverd an unearthed mummy sitting on Mary's 50's era revival recliner. Imagine our suprise when said mummy began to speak to us! Poor Laura, it must have been like dipping herself into acid for that first bath. I asked her to send me pictures of her scab collection & told her to buy stock in neosporin. In case you have never seen it, this is what it looks like to go down at 40MPH with a litte tank top and tri shorts.

manual labor

Another visit to the Dewar/Mohagen compound & I am put to work immediately. 200lbs of indoor/outdoor carpet, rocks, gravel, plain ol' dirt and cinder blocks loaded up into the Canyonero: straight to the land fill. If you have never been to a full blown American landfill you are missing something existential. The remains of the unwanted, piled hundreds of feet into the blue cloudless skies of the Central Valley. Enormous cranes collect one man's treasure and drag it to an untimely death. Metal drums out of a Kubrik film regurgitate the mess until unrecognizable as methan gas spews uninhibited. You literally drive up and onto the pile of waste until you come to what looks like a reasonable spot to park and discharge your wares.

Thanks for the experience Mar'; and the emphysema.

Flat my ass.

6 miles long with the last 2 at about 13%.

Happy Birthday buddy.

6 on the 4th.

I will be the first one to say that cycling is the most humbling sport in the world. 48 year old dudes turning the pain screws; 11-25's just not even close. So, that being said I thought it would be a good idea and except an offer to ride with the King of the Mountains. LITERALLY.

So me and Giampaolo (the 48yr old screw-driver) meet up with a coupla Cat 2's and Scott Nydum and go for a ride to the coast. I am not kidding, these guys were doing intervals up and down climbs that I found myself in the 28. You heard me right friends; I purchased an 11-28.

Necessity is the father of all creation.

60 miles use to mean something to me in Wisconsin. It usually meant I would be out on my bike for 3 1/2 hours or so. 60 miles here means something totally different now. 60 miles took 6 hours.

Happy 4th y'all.

Wasted.

It's been awhile, I know. Traveling, sleeping on floors, air up matresses, pull out beds and anything else I can find is not condusive for the creative gene. Not that it takes that much creativity to post a picture and write about some mundane experience, but try to relate, will you?

I spent a solid week entertaining mom (thurs-tues), and two Trek dudes (tues-thurs) & (thurs-fri). All both exhausting and welcome. It was nice to see familiar faces & I had not really had the family guilt trip laid down thick in about 6 months, so I was due. I got my mom wasted at dinner one night. Hilarious. My siblings have never seen Janet drunk, and I have twice now. We did some Wine Tasting, tourist stuff and a TON of driving.

I bought a new camera for my mom's visit; and so that I could take some pics while out riding. More pics to come.

MPG.

Mine sucks. Obviously. This was the most $$ in gas I have ever put into my car. Very disturbing. I am here in California to work on my dream. A part of that dream is a new lifestyle. This lifestyle consists of living a distance from the store that gives me no exuces not to ride. Riding has never let me down & I have more passion for it now that I did when I was a 15 year old punk kid racing bmx in my friends back yard.

I cannot wait to get going.

Mare Bear.

Stopped by Ian and Mary Mohegan's pad in little Mexico a few weeks ago & I am just getting around to post it. I wish I had an awesome story about me whoop'n Mary's ass in Ueker or something, but it was just a nice dinner and nice conversation with great friends.

However, I will dominate on the card table if provoked.

I was about to call Greg Trek or what eva his name is.

Could this be the new Trek Store of Santa Rosa? Inquiring minds want to know.

Busbee Berkeley Blues

Hipsters, hippies and the asian invasion inflatrate the streets of berkeley ca, all I can do is grin as I snap a few unkown shots of the unbeknownst.

Not as granola as I had imagined but that is par for the course...things not being what I imagined them to be.

Took a ride with a Berkeley freind on a killer saturday afternoon. Kick things off with a 5 mile climb to break up the morning latte & bagel and then we are off to a 50mph descent. The biggest trees I have ever seen a blur as the weekend warriors fill my peripheral.

What a day. 18 miles up and 18 down. That is how they roll in Berkeley.

Missive.

Memorandum, datum, dictum or what have you, it was the start of something; now it's a celebration. I leave San Jose this weekend and head back to the north bay to get to it.

Santa Rosa is back where it belongs...in my hands.

Whether I start 1 store or 5, the chance is again mine and I will not vacillate. I will go about this like a maniac (see AOM w/Mathis, Champ w/pictures of his knee, Marko w/triskets, Griff w/D, & Shaw w/beers).

Thanks for the support everyone. I think I got 4 "it's about fucking time" emails or texts.

LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

Nah.

I'd rather not. 8 months after visiting Santa Rosa and 2 months of waiting for other people to make up their minds, I am calling it quits. I informed those who make the decisions that I was not longer available for consideration in a Trek Store with Levi Leipheimer. I will know by next Friday whether or not I am the "guy" or if I am the guy who is doing his own thing, with or without Trek.

I think I have been patient enough & will no longer negotiate my passion & vision.

Santa Cruz.

I sent my self packing down to Santa Cruz for the day. Nineteen twelve hour days in a row will put anyone in the mood to hang out with a bunch of Surfers, vagrants & homeless break dancers.

Well, at least in the mood for a break.

I make the 45 minute jaunt over from San Jose, where I have been staying for the last 3 weeks. The roads packed & in-direct I try my best to be a good Californian and talk on my phone, drink my Starbucks, read my map & navigate all while searching for the talk radio show that will broadcast the Badgers Final Four bid.

I get into Santa Cruz safely & first things first, I find the local Trek dealer. Right, what a fucking joke. My standards are just too high I guess. I was in and out in less than 5 minutes.

Off to the beach & I know I would regret not getting sun tan lotion for my bald head.

The beaches of Santa Cruz are dirtier than I thought they would be, but the drive there more beautiful. I watched some surfers do their thing then broke down towards Capitola where I was told I could get some good grub. I watched some of the Sconni’ game & ate a chicken sambo in a joint just off the beach. Sunny & 70, just like the day before and the day before that. You might think that would get old, but it has yet to.

Back to Santa Cruz for some Bad Ass coffee, a pay toilet & chicks in two piece swim suits. I tried not to wish I had someone else to share these experiences with, but the thought was relentless & I gave into it more than once.

Now, back in my hotel, skin blushed by the day’s sun, I stream “This American Life” & look forward to a nice ride in the morning followed by an enjoyable Easter day with friends Mary & Ian.

Make the most of this experience gg…and I plan to.

I bought a 500gb harddrive to save my memories and two bottles of wine to forget them.

The crawl home contentious, the drive home weary and dreadful, the walk home always is.

Get home, sit there and stare into the television that you have for 8 months not. Get home and do not feel sorry for yourself, like you have for the past 8 months. Where you get is not home of course, you left home.

This bed is not mine. It has not been made concave by my body. It will not slide Jules into its center. It will not slide anyone. These sheets are not mine. They are cleaned way more often than mine ever were. This carpet is not mine. I hate carpet. This refrigerator is not mine. It is half the size of mine.

I had three bowls of cereal for dinner, in a bowl that is not mine & with a spoon that is way too big and makes me regret the amount of Honey Bunches of Oats I can fit into my mouth.

I pretend that I am ok here by myself with nothing to do. I don’t want to be a professional cyclist. My femurs aren’t long enough anyway.