No Whining

Just when you think your life is sucky or annoying, you see this:



Cliff shot this last Sunday. Four families were made homeless by the fire, and no one knows yet what started it.

I followed up with the family whose apartment contained the fire a few nights ago:



Anjie Bull, right, checks out the boarded-up entrance to her family's apartment Monday night at 11th Street and Portland Place, which caught fire on Sunday afternoon. Left to right are Isaiah Danaher, 14, Matt Roper, and Oaklie Bull, 10. Danaher was seeing the damage for the first time, since he had been out of town when the fire happened.

They're holding up surprisingly well, but still, that is a huge drag. Luckily tons of people from the community are stepping up, offering them a place to stay, replacing their Christmas presents, etc.

This of course gave me memories back to my own house fire, in 2001. Thank god for renter's insurance! Too bad this family didn't have any.

On a happier note, the weather here is getting fabulous and warm! I'm hoping to have a fun weekend of riding around Boulder, seeing the family in Denver, and then perhaps taking off for Moab on Monday. Yahoo! Then I'll finally have some fun pix for the blog. ;-)

Yo, Word.

Dig this white-boy 'fro:



I know, I know. You all want my job.

Random Oddities

I know I've been slacking on my blog, but there just hasn't been much of interest going on. I'm on a later shift at work, which usually results in mind-numbing assignments like meetings and high school sports. Nobody wants to see that stuff.

There IS one picture from tonight's girls basketball game that's amusing, however:



For my friends that don't know about this, my brother nicknamed me "Biz" when we were really little. No one knows what it means. But dammit, I'm one of the team!!

In other corny but entertaining news, I have another wonderful commemorative item to add to my collection. This beauty came to me from our race team party after the State Championships, where I was awarded the "Best Teammate/Best Supporter" award (you know, the "jock strap" award). I probably got this award for all my hollering, hooting, cat-calling, and other annoying vocalizations at the summer short-track races. I also received a pound of coffee and a "growler" of beer from two of our team sponsors (nice sponsors, huh?). I gave the coffee to my roommate, who actually chokes down Folgers every morning, and the beer went to my friend, teammate, and coworker at the Daily Camera, Jeremy. But of course I kept this nugget for myself:



My teammate Cindy won a gorgeous engraved-Lucite golfer for "Most Improved Rider." It's pretty safe to guess that one of the team directors scored these things that morning at a thrift shop. The best part is that we have to hang onto them, to pass on to next year's winners.

Lastly, I've been reading the blog written by my friend Nick Martin, who runs the Trek Rocky Mountain racing team, and quite frankly, it's depressing. I want to be 24 years old, a sponsored mountain bike pro who has no other job but to ride all day, dammit!! (If you have time, check out his blog; naturally it's a lot more interesting than mine.)

So in a desperate attempt to imitate his fun-filled winter training rides, I cast around for someone to ride with this morning. Luckily I found "someone" -- Andy Hampsten. (The fat slacker who was the only American to win the Giro d'Italia... no big deal.) We did the coffee-shop meeting and then headed out on our 'cross bikes. While Andy's custom "Mud Pig" (so called because his bike-touring company is named after Italy's famed wild boar, the Cinghiale) has water bottle bosses, he doesn't have any cages on the bike. So he asked me to be his domestique and carry his water. As you might know, domestiques are the "helpers" in road racing, the underappreciated, ass-busting no-names who ferry water and food to the important guys as well as block the wind for them, wipe their butts, do their taxes, change their kids' diapers, etc. etc. But I digress. So I put Andy's bottle in my second cage and we set off, heading toward the dirt roads north of town. (I'm allergic to asphalt, as many of you know.)

The wind turned out to be HELL-acious, due to a cold front heading in. (Or is it just that Boulder is windy every god-forsaken day in the wintertime??) We had to literally yell at each other to be heard. We still managed to talk about movies, flying in small aircraft, Andy's plans to remake wool cycling jerseys as well as retro 40's and 50's clothing, and any number of other things. Of course, I talked in strategically small sentences to hide the fact that I was getting totally gasping from fighting into the wind.

And suddenly Andy's arm shoots into the air and he turns to look behind him while he's riding. It takes me a second, in this setting, to recognize the classic body language of a pro rider waiting for help from the team car -- needing water, a spare wheel, a pat on the ass, etc. I start cracking up, but let him hang there. Finally he bellows, "CAIVANO! Where's my water??"



This picture is after he was properly hydrated, of course. He went on to tell me a story about his days on the Motorola squad, when a cyclist named Raul Alcala was the big shot. Raul kept insisting that Andy and another domestique stay with him, even though they were at a good strategic point in the race (a flat spot) for one of them to go back to the team car for liquids. Of course, Raul waited until the road went steeply uphill to demand a Coke. (The riders drink them for the caffeine boost.) So Andy went back for the Coke and ferried it to Raul, without complaining about having to slog up the steep section of road twice. But Raul went postal, threw the Coke off the side of the road and screamed, "I wanted a COLD one!!!"

And you thought basketball players were prima donnas.

And dammit, that pesky Nick Martin doesn't have this story!

I'm a Champion!!

Sort of. Okay, not really. But kind of.

This past Saturday was the cyclocross State Championships, and even though I've been down with a cold for almost all of the past two weeks, I was feeling ready to race. Yeah baby! Last race of the year, last race of my season until late May 2006... gotta make the most of it. Even though it was a bit chilly and windy, it was a great day for racing in December.

I was feeling pretty decent and riding hard, but everyone pulls out all the stops at States, that's for sure. It was at Xilinx, the same joint as two weeks ago, with a slightly different course. This time it routed through the deep-sand volleyball pit, which is not very fun. But since Colorado 'cross is extremely dry compared to racing on the coasts, the promoters feel like they need to throw in whatever they can to worsen the conditions. It's a European sport, with a storied tradition of suffering in the cold and wet, so it's perceived as lame if the course is too dry or easy. Then they figure it's too similar to short-track mountain bike racing. Anyway, bike racers are masochists, there's no way around it. ;-)

Here's me not looking too wrecked:



(props to Beth Jordan for the sweet pix!)

So I busted ass as hard as I could, but could tell from the start that I was wasn't going as well as the last race. My fitness has definitely decreased due to illness and the onset of winter while I was working a very inconvenient shift at work. Damn jobs; why do we have them, anyway? But at least I didn't get passed by the women pros. They usually lap me right at the end of the race, but this time I managed to hold them off.

Is that a smile or a grimace?



I finished 5th in the 35+ category, which then brought me up to 3rd place for the series -- yahoo!! I was very happy. If I hadn't missed one of the races in late October, I might have done even better, but nonetheless I think that's a great finish for me. Cyclocross is very new to me; I only started doing it last year. Next year I'll actually DO the running workouts my coach prescribed for me, and I'll perfect my remount -- yeah! And then maybe I'll be able to haul the mail! ;-)

As I was hanging around with my teammate Cindy (who placed 4th in the series!) while we waited for our prizes, a friend of mine called out, "Hey Marty, you've got a medal over here." I went over to the official's table (these races are run by the American Cycling Association), and sure enough, there was a bronze medal in an envelope that had my name on it. Cool!... but I didn't get it. I came in 5th, not 3rd. The official had to explain to me that two of the women in the top 5 did not hold full ACA racing licenses, so for the State Championships their results are dropped, which moved me into third place. So basically, although I didn't literally earn my 3rd place medal, I got rewarded for kissing the ass of The Establishment, so to speak. ;-) Well, I've got very few tangible items to show off my racing results, so I guess I'll take it and try not to feel like an opportunist. Schwing!

Here's the medal, with Cyclocross Guy in full swing (and my still-dirty bike as the backdrop):



Cheesy, but still... it's a reward for many hours of blood, sweat and gears.

Happy Turkey Day, Everyone

I had originally planned to spend the weekend in Fruita, mountain biking with Zack, Cindy, and her husband Matt. But the cold I caught last weekend continued to smack me around, so I decided against traveling anywhere. Instead, Zack and I had Thanksgiving dinner with a couple who are also my teammates, Peter and Patsy Shaffer. They're funny people who sure know how to cook a good turkey, as well as a slam-dunk pumpkin pie. Yum!
We spent the rest of the weekend in a fairly mellow fashion; I had to ride at least a few times because the weather was so nice, even though I didn't feel 100%. Now is the time of year where I'll ride Hall Ranch a zillion times because it's always pretty warm and dry up there, plus the trail is a blast.

A man and his shadow:



Rippin' it up on the singlespeed:



Who doesn't like a cyclist's legs?? I ask you...



While we heard that the weather in Fruita was crappy, it didn't stop Zack and I from feeling restless. I wish we could fast-forward to summertime, and win the lottery so we could mountain bike in British Columbia for a month, and then spend a month riding through Italy. Dammit! Winter sucks. But then I have to remind myself: this isn't what Thanksgiving is about! It's about being happy with what you have. I live in a beautiful place; I have my health (for the moment, anyway!); I have family, friends and boyfriend that I adore; I have a job; I have my passion for cycling, which encompasses the joys of fitness, competition, friendship, and travel all in one; and I live very comfortably. I haven't a thing to complain about!
And best wishes to all of you, too!

Cyclocross Is Not For The Faint of Heart

Another great race, this time at the Xilinx campus out near Longmont. This course is a blast, with off-camber turns twisting through trees, the requisite steep run-up, and some really big log barriers. This company, whatever they are, is really great to hold races on their property. They even open one of their buildings for us, so we can use real restrooms instead of port-a-johns. And the registrars, who usually freeze their asses off under a tent in a parking lot, got to sit in front of a fireplace in their shirt sleeves. I've gotta say, it makes them a lot friendlier. So, on to the race...

Look out folks, we've got another shooter in our midst -- Zack took some awesome photos of my teammate Cindy and me:









Luckily, what you don't see in these photos is the fact that I dropped my chain on the first lap, trying to remount in a really choppy spot. I managed to chase back up a few more places as the race went on, but as usual, I didn't get a thorough warmup and wasn't feeling that hot. But I was really enjoying the technical aspects of the race, and that always keeps me smiling. I was duking it out with two women who were obviously road racers... they would speed up and pass me on the paved sections, and then slow to a crawl when the dirt sections arrived. I'd pass them back, and put some time into them, but as soon as I had to face the wind on the pavement, I couldn't stay ahead of them. The smaller you are, the more the wind pushes you, and both of these girls were bigger than me. It was motivating, having to pass them twice every lap. So finally, on the last lap, I passed them (both in turns, which is pretty cool, I thought) and managed to hold them off. It was really great to actually have some action within the race; usually I get isolated somewhere in the top ten and feel like I'm racing by myself.
The other motivator was Dave Towle, the announcer. He's very good at what he does, and in fact, he announces at many of the biggest races in the U.S. It's a pleasure to have him at a local race, because he keeps the energy up and makes everyone laugh with his funny comments. Zack got a picture of him:



He tends to announce my name a lot when I'm racing, because he knows me and I'm someone he can actually recognize and say something about. I mean, he's gotta fill a lot of air time during the 45 minutes of our race, and once the pro women go by, he's probably hard up for anything to say. One lap when I went by, I heard him say that I was "breaking legs all over the course" and Zack heard him call me the "wattage cottage," which cracks me up. He always tells everyone I'm a photographer for the Camera... I'm never sure if that makes people think less or more of me, ha ha.

Anyhow, I managed to pull off an 8th place in the combined Category 4/35+ group, which translated into 3rd place in the 35+ only. Yay, a podium finish! Hey, do I win anything?? I'm not sure. Doubtful. Just bragging rights among the other old chicks. ;-)

Then on Saturday night, Zack "The Pyro" Price and I enjoyed a fire in my fireplace, the first time I've had a fire in my house that wasn't accidentally set by a roommate. Unfortunately, I had only brought in some wood that morning, so it really wasn't dry enough to burn well. But hey, it was still pretty fun to light all those Daily Cameras on fire.
Here's what Zack thinks of my desire to document my first-ever (intentional) house fire:



I am extremely privileged to report that I now have a Christmas tree, courtesy of Zack as well. Not only that, it was decorated by him, too, with the only thing he could find around my house: cycling gloves.
Behold... and be awed by.... The Glove Tree:



Ahhhh... life is good. Even if I got sick within hours of that 'cross race... sore throat, congestion, etc., all over again. It's just hard on the body, I tell you. Joe is sick too, so I don't feel so bad. It happens to us all.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Making Cookies Out of Dog Shit

Do I have that right, Zack? I think this is the phrase one of his coworkers uses. And I plan to adopt it as the Daily Camera photographers' slogan because it's so amazingly appropriate.

I got sent over to this dorky little ice rink that opened today, with the added pressure of being asked to make a front-page picture, and guess what? Nobody knows it's open. Plus it's a gorgeous day, the kind that would motivate you to hike or run, not ice skate. For hours I sat by an empty ice rink, getting more and more bored. Finally a lone woman showed up, but she could barely stay upright on her skates. She was extremely slow-moving and tentative. Not that I could do any better, since I haven't ice skated since middle school, but she was not the best subject for a desperate photographer. Then I noticed that the warmth of the day had created a puddle of water on the surface, and I finally had a photograph:



It just figures that in the next day's paper it was the lead photo on the front page, but my co-worker Mark Leffingwell got credit for it. It's like a little microcosm of what happens in life sometimes... you bust your ass making cookies out of dog shit, and then someone else, usually someone who skates through life with very little effort, gets credit for your hard work. But hell, my job is still way better than most!!

Catching Up

Sorry folks, I had a busy week. Plus I kept forgetting to carry my little happy-snap camera to things over the weekend... rats!!

Anyway, here are some photos from work.... Friday was Veteran's Day, with a parade in Longmont. I really enjoy talking to all these old guys, who just light up when they see the parade.



Michael Benavidez, right, and Greg Emery, center, U.S. Navy recuiters from Longmont, thank Ed Yusko for his service in World War II during the Veteran's Day Parade on Friday in Longmont. Yusko survived a kamikazi attack on the USS Nashville on Dec. 13, 1941, an attack that killed 133 and wounded 190. That ship was part of the first U.S. attack on the Japanese mainland, called the Doolittle Raid, after Pearl Harbor in 1942.

And it's funny to watch the little kids go nuts, too:



Ethan Mitchell, 6, gets excited after spotting several military vehicles during the Veteran's Day Parade on Friday in Longmont. He and his classmates at the Longmont Christian Kindergarten stepped outside their school to see the parade of bands, marching veterans, military vehicles, and fire engines.

This kid was just stunned into silence by all the pomp and circumstance and really big machines:



I spent the weekend riding a lot -- did a two hour 'cross type ride on Saturday, and then an awesome mountain bike ride with Zack and my team on Sunday at Hall Ranch, one of my favorite technically challenging rides near Boulder. Even though I was feeling kind of tired, I perked up enough to do a decent job with all the rocks and ledges. Schwing! I wish I'd shot some photos, for sure. This weekend is a cyclocross race at Xilinx, an industrial park that actually provides a really fun course. I'll definitely get some photos from that!

Lung Biscuits Are Yummy

I spent Sunday afternoon doing the hardest cyclocross race of my life, and then all of Sunday night sounding like a chainsmoker. I haven't hacked up that much stuff since I had pneumonia as a kid. That CAN'T be good for your body. But everyone else was clearly suffering, too -- the contorted faces along the course can hardly be described as attractive.

Here's what I look like (overjoyed that I'm not tripping over the barrier in an oxygen-deprived stagger):


This hill doesn't look like much in a photograph, but it was one of those easiest-gear-you've-got, stand-and-grind kinds of pain in the ass:



The crowd was awesome -- lots of teammates and friends cheering and ringing cowbells, barbequeing and hanging out, having a good time. It felt like a par-tay. And Zack was amazing as always, giving Cindy and I handups as well as providing much-needed vocal support. I'm always astounded that he's so supportive... I must confess I don't see too many other boyfriends doing that! He's the man.
The course was full of tough spots, lots of running uphill, through sand, etc. and it's just Murphy's Freakin' Law that the only spot to slow down and try to recover was in full view of the spectators. So you're all hunched over, gasping for air and going about one mile an hour while everyone hollers at you to "go, go, go!" It's just lovely. But I loved the fast downhills, zooming along and whipping through the off-camber turns. Wheeee!

Here's what it looks like when the pros do it:


And here's an artsy way to look at it:


(None of these photos were shot by me, just so ya know. Beth Jordan gets props for the pix of me; Daily Camera freelancer Jonathan "Sexual Harassment Lawsuit Waiting to Happen" Castner took the other two.)

Daylight Is For Sissies

Once the time change happens, ya gotta do this:


As long as you're not freezing your tits off, it's a blast. It makes the boring trails around Boulder a lot more fun, and (close your eyes here, Zack!!) the other ones even MORE fun. There's no one else around, and it's amazingly peaceful. I love to stop somewhere along the way, shut off the lights, and check out the stars, city lights.... and the putrid glow of combusted fossil fuels that hangs over the Front Range. Sigh. But anyway, it's awesome. I'm hoping this funky warm trend we've got will allow me some more of these fun rides.

It was me, Zack, Cindy (left) and Beth (taking the picture). We're hoping the ride will turn into a regular Friday night fun-fest with more people each time as the word spreads. I already ran into a person today who knew about it, so it proves the insular nature of the Boulder cycling community.

I may also have to get used to this type of ride for my structured workouts... such is winter as a cyclist. I better cover myself in that reflective 3M tape you can buy at the hardware store so all the cell-phone-using motorists don't run me down. I could also try about fourteen of those little blinkie lights!

Today Was Raw, Baby

Eat your heart out, friends.... I got more free food!



My favorite...salmon roe with quail eggs.



The Colorado Roll -- filet mignon. Not super high on my list, but tasty nonetheless. And looks great, that's for sure.



Yup, they hack up big fishes there. With the eyeballs still on 'em.

Yummy.

(British accent:)" And now for something completely different!"

This is Tony Green, a Britisher who moved to America and has become, of all things, a police dispatcher. He said he wanted to do something to help his fellow man. I thought he was pretty damn cool. The mug's a nice touch, isn't it?

I Love Politicians.

The fact that they vie for office and propose referendums means that I get to ride. Cha-ching!! Due to late-night coverage of election stuff yesterday, I had the whole morning off on a beautiful day. Sometimes I love my job! So Beth and I took a fabulous cruise through the oh-so-scenic environs of the Gunbarrel trails. Sounds like a joke, but it's really not -- incredible views of the mountains and fall foliage were everywhere, and at least Beth was smart enough to bring a camera. (Really, I'm a professional.)


What a crappy view.


Beth's got a good eye.

Here she is:


While exiting the dirt jumps, we ran into some really slow people, har har:


Us having a wretched time:


After all of this, Beth's blog just kicks mine out of the water. Go read a better recap in her blog.

Bwa-ha-ha-ha!!! Happy Halloween!

A bunch of things went wrong today, actually, starting with an early-morning social blunder so painful that I can't even talk about it, promptly followed by me tripping up a flight of stairs and accidentally erasing two entire assignments from my digital image card. And due to my cold, I haven't had a good night's sleep in a week. Needless to say, I was entertaining thoughts of making an appointment with Freddie Kruger, just to put me out of my misery.

However, one thing I was happy about was this assignment:


Noah Kloor, 14, a student at Boulder High School, has been turning his family home into a haunted house since he was seven years old. This year's theme is the "Killer Karnival."

This kid was great. He hammed it up for my photos, but otherwise was totally mature, funny, enthusiastic, and smart. He was very entertaining to talk to... he made my day. I thought it was pretty damn cool that he owns a life-size Jason AND a smoke machine.

A Halloween staple around here is the Headless Horseman. He rides around this one neighborhood, scaring schoolkids and waving at passing motorists. Due to the craptastic day I was having, this picture is not what it could be. But at least you can see what he looks like.



Now I think I'll go home and go straight to bed before anything else screwy happens. ;-)

The Operation Was Successful!

I'm happy to report good news today: I'm feeling quite a bit better (knock on wood, but -- hooray!), and Zack fixed Spanky! My cyclocross bike, affectionately known to me as Spanky (I have a dorky habit of anthropomorphizing my bicycles), has suffered from a mysterious creaking/pinging sound for quite some time now. It eventually got loud enough to make me ride with an iPod, I'm sad to say. Now, Zack Vestal spent some time looking at various components, back in the day, and then gave up, saying it was probably the frame, but he didn't really seem to have time or inclination to look into it. (And I never quite wanted to take it to a bike shop, only to get charged a zillion dollars for labor while they wasted time looking at every damn component just to satisfy themselves that I knew what I was talking about when I said it's the frame.)

So: Zack P. took it upon himself to "beat the professional mechanic" in problem solving. Here he is inspecting the frame for hairline fractures (a VERY bad thing that had me worried):


After much flexing of the frame in every direction, he speculated that the riveted-on water bottle bosses were creaking against the frame. (The bosses are the holes in the frame that allow you to bolt on a water-bottle holder, or "cage" as they're called.) He used large amounts of every type of bike lube, grease and spray that I had in my toolbox, and after much wiping, jiggling and flipping the bike around, the sound was nearly gone. We stared at each other in elated disbelief, but then heard another ping as he torqued on the frame one more time. Ugh! But I was willing to guess that he was still right, and that it was just going to take time for the lube to penetrate the dry rivets. I took the bike outside and rode around, standing on the pedals in a big gear and applying as much torque as possible to the frame. No sound!!! I love it!! Zack is the man. My Spanky is a silent stealth machine once again.

Zack during our ride today:

Okay, I'm Over It

I'm sick of being sick!! I got this cold last Sunday, and then for the past four nights, at 2am like clockwork, my sinuses fill up like Hooters on a Saturday night, and I'm awake the rest of the night because I can barely breathe. And I've had to drag myself to work every day, too. Now it's finally the weekend, and I feel like crap. Great!!
So I guess I'll call the Waaaaambulance and have it park in front of my house so I can just curl up in there permanently. :-)
Needless to say, Brad and I are not doing my lactate threshold test anytime soon. AND I'm missing out on yet another cool cyclocross race! Double drat!!

Well, to keep this post from being a pathetic whine fest, I'll include the last of my decent photos from the summer:



Jim Forslund, a local attorney, reads a book while waiting for a client in the Boulder County Justice Center on Thursday morning.



David Hackett, of San Diego, Calif., performs a move called a "rock and roll" at the Boulder Skatepark on Monday afternoon. Hackett, current World Champion Bank Slalom skater, came through town after competing in a national championship skateboard race in Breckenridge last week.



Amy Self, center, relaxes while midwife Elizabeth Moore, right, and Self's husband, Ed, left, paint her belly at Moore's office recently. When mothers-to-be reach 37 weeks in their pregnancies, Moore paints their bellies to celebrate the fact that they are far enough along to safely give birth at home.

Yesterday's Stuff

Sometimes I really enjoy assignments like this. I can just mess around with light and try to make it as pretty as possible. But let's face it, what I liked even more is that they gave me the chocolate when I was done! I find that if I touch the food while "arranging it for the camera," they tend to give it to me afterwards. :-)



This Viognier from the Bookcliffs Vineyards pairs well with all-natural chocolates from the Belvedere Belgian Chocolate Shop in Boulder.


And then something completely different: the vigil for the 2,000 American soldiers killed in the Iraq war. Not to make fun of this event in any way, but I did find it slightly amusing that no one had the attention span to stay silent the whole time. People started talking, or leaving, or just getting fidgety. You know they were all thinking about what to make for dinner, or how their workday went, or some other thing. But I think it's just human nature that you can't totally relate to something unless it's happening to you directly. I was impressed that 350 people showed up, period.
This picture didn't run in the paper; I put it here so it will have an outlet.
I'm always wondering how much kids understand when they attend vigils like this.



Emerson Guy, 4, and Penny Guy, of Erie, participate in a candlelight vigil to mourn this week's tally of 2,000 American soldiers killed in the Iraq war. The vigil was one of many across the country.

I don't feel like I made a great photo at this event... the lighting conditions are so bad that it makes it hard, plus people are sometimes a bit uptight. Luckily these folks were nice to me. I feel like the Vigil Queen because I did one for the Katrina victims, too:



Charles Gilford, left, and Tynesha Matthews listen to the University of Colorado 's Umoja Gospel Choir during a candlelight vigil held to honor the victims of Hurricane Katrina at the University Memorial Center on Wednesday evening. Matthews had planned to attend Xavier University in New Orleans this fall. The event, held simultaneously with vigils at nine other universities, was organized by CU's Black Student Alliance and the Big XII Council on Black Student Government.

Plus all the other vigils I've attended throughout my ten years at the Daily Camera... but I can't complain. It's still a pretty interesting job!

Lucky Shit!

Check this guy out. I literally turned green with envy when I saw this.
He basically spent the entire summer traveling and riding his bike in all the most beautiful places in the West. Grrr!

And for your visual entertainment, a few more photos from the paper that I shot this summer:



Olga Marble, left, and Paola Gonzalez, right, dance as part of the grand opening celebration of Ballet Folklorico Mexicano "Tixtlequita Consentida," Marble's dance studio in Lafayette. Marble, a Mexican immigrant, focuses on traditional Mexican dance and includes history and cultural lessons as well.



Boulder Police officer Mike Pease watches as Kathy Arnold smells a plant that looks remarkably like marijuana, which he picked out of a flower bed on the Pearl Street Mall.

That one's a favorite for me, because the circumstances were so weird and the cop was so funny. Basically, someone planted some seeds of "something" that really did look like pot in the tulip bed on the mall. Everyone that saw it was convinced it was the real deal, but the cop was skeptical, saying that marajiuana needs a more humid environment. And there are other plants that have a close resemblance to the hippie herb. He took the plants back to the cop shop for testing, but we never found out what they really were.

No Need to Pimp This Ride

My friend Clay Watson of Kustom Kar Audio did this amazing car stereo install into the Volkswagen Touareg driven by my friend Nick Martin, who runs the Trek Rocky Mountain Regional mountain bike racing team, of which Volkswagen and the stereo company JBL are sponsors. (whew, that was a mouthful, or eyeful, whatever). Everyone involved wanted pictures, so I got hired to shoot them. They might end up in a local cycling magazine called VeloNews, and perhaps in other car stereo magazines as well.

So to cut to the chase -- this thing THUMPS. No surprise. Nick is going to be one of those morons who can never hear fire engines and ambulances approaching.

And Clay took out the spare tire to install this thing, so I guess if Nick gets a flat, he'll have some great tunes while he waits for AAA.




Here's the happy team, just waiting to bang their heads.