Monday, November 29, 2010

Belated Thanks

We are thankful for so much these days. All you doors flying open. Thank you, gas station kid. And you, customers from Bozeman who came back to sit at the counter. I sure enjoyed our talk.

Thankful for the Market, where if you order lamb shanks on a Monday, to be had on Wednesday, more than likely those shanks were still walking around somewhere. They put your name in a little book and it's just another reason that my world is becoming evermore complete.

Put them in Oatis and onions and star anise for 4 hours on simmer. Thank you New Scandinavia.


Thank you projects. Thank you stress. It's all good. We'll get there.

Oh, and thank you guy who bought a Big Pink Bike brand new in 1986, found it was too big and hung it up until the saddle, bar tape, and tires rotted off of it. Thanks for sprucing it up and selling it to me so I can go a-touring next summer.


This is as I unloaded it from the car. Dia-Compe cantis, 27" wheels, and Biopace triple. Ya, basically useless in this condition, but I have big plans.

Ladies, this is Big Pink.

Ransom and Blenheims. If you have access to these two things, mix them together and crush half a lime over the top.

Something to be thankful for.



  1. Fix the angle of that goddamned saddle before you push any more pictures at us. I still hate you. I was going to say I hated your spawn, but I. Could. Not. I love those lads. I never had a male offspring. A male to corrupt. Say nothing of a twofer.

  2. I left it just as it was bought so I could later Wow you with "after" pictures with all the add-on's. Honjo/Brooks/Mookstache bars/the same old rigamarole.

    And, I know it's big and pink, and everything I've always wished I could find, but it's just a Miyata/Univega with a bunch of wortless parts on it.

    That said, this machine will crush and trump any Rivendell that's ever been built when it's finished.

    It's pink. Pale, dusky rose pink. Don't forget it.

  3. It still says Cinelli on the tube.

    Have you ever actually tried moustache bars? I don't like them. The feel. I like old Frenchy city bars. Or even drops mounted a tad high.

  4. Berg drinks when he reads this blog...I don't feel so bad that he knew about it and I did not, knowing that.

    If you ride that big pink lipstick down this way you let me know.