Yesterday I cleaned up a bit and actually found some stuff. One of the stuff was the cord that lets me transfer pictures from the digital camera to the computer, and my joy is your gain. Above, here's Sweet Baboo riding the tractor at his mom's house in San Antonio during spring break. (Click to see larger pictures.
Above rught, I posted some time back about the trip Sweet Baboo and I made to Colorado Multisport back in early April, where Tim fitted us for bikes. He spent about 3-4 hours with each of us, measuring, adjusting, etc. We took our old bikes up there, and he fitted us for those.
Above rught, I posted some time back about the trip Sweet Baboo and I made to Colorado Multisport back in early April, where Tim fitted us for bikes. He spent about 3-4 hours with each of us, measuring, adjusting, etc. We took our old bikes up there, and he fitted us for those.
Sweet Baboo's bike arrived a few weeks later. Of course it did. I'll leave it to him to post his pictures on his own blog.
Mine, however, was delayed as Kestrel decided whether or not to get their heads out of their rear ends. It was maddening. First, they said my bike would be ready in mid-May. Then it was late May. Then it was "Gosh, we just don't know when we'll have it." :-(
Poor Tim - he did everything he could to speed things up.
Left - this is just a random picture from my hard drive, of Sweet Baboo and several other Outlaws about to start Ironman Arizona.
ANYHOO, Time dragged by, and I was able to view Baboo using his brand new toy but I could not.
I didn't post about it because I still stinging from the suggestion by Herself that my answer to life's little dilemas was to buy stuff and brag about it. That's not entirely true, after all. Sometimes I throw temper tantrums. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I go and get my nails done, or get flowers painted on my toes.
(Sometimes, I even stuff my emotions down to a deep, dark place from where, hopefully, they'll never emerge.) But do I get credit for that? Noooooooo.
Plus, with the genuine angst that goes on in the world, it just seemed superficial to complain because my brand new expensive toy wasn't arriving fast enough.
So I suffered in silence.
I even considered canceling my order with Kestrel and going with a different bike, but I was limited because I wanted 650 wheels and, being the manly woman that I am, I wear a 54cm frame.
Anyway, eventually, Tim was able to get me a frame and then built my bike. It arrived in a giant FedEx box last Thursday, and mini-Baboo called to let me know it had arrived. I threatened him with certain death if he attempted to open the cartons. Tim had fedexed it to me so that I'd have it in time to suffer mightily on it at the Duche-man.
Actually, I didn't completely suffer at the Douche-man. It's just that I didn't get to see everything that she could do.
That is, not until the truck (you know, the one that follows the last rider) pulled up along side me, a mile or so out from T2, and I was informed I had 4 minutes to get off the course. Then I force myself - and my sore butt - into an aero position and hammered away. I felt like I was flying. It was pure joy, I tell ya. The bike is a work of art and science.
May I present to you
the Rockette.
...
