Oh Fall

Oh Fall, as if it ever had a chance.
hot and cold-cut the middle out
you are left with bare, bones
Orange leaves fall before they change
And buried under white
and buried under more white.
This is the product
of a completly desolate land.

"I don't tell lies just because people might be listening."
-Kawabata Snow Country
(I think I wrote this blog just to say that quote)

Odd and deserted bike trails/lanes took me all around Henderson. Black, apocalyptic rain clouds devoured the west and sunrise mountains. The sky in Henderson seemed to be in the eye of the storm, while I cowardly enjoyed seclusion. I could only hear the hum from my tired rolling down the pavement, the peaceful pants of my breath battling between fatigue and freezing. I needed this. A day of peace. But when I reach the bottom of a glass, or dig from the back of my brain; I am still waiting for that thunderstorm.

NEW Project. I will be here all day and night for a few months


bikes in alleyways

This photo reminds me of Fight Club. Man, you have no idea how hard it was to get this bike to stand up like that. Contrary to believe, very little Photoshop editing was used. Many good memories from this night, and this photo is only a mill-second of the whole endeavor. Fall is upon us.
This is me.


I AM 20

At 8:31 am Saturday morning, I was brought upon this world 20 years ago. It's been a solid week of celebration, but now it's official. My teenage years have come and past. The feeling of absolute restlessness has slowly come to an ease. The artificial goal I set for myself, to finish college as quick as possible, was only measured by the people around me. My feverish thirst for knowledge and untapped talents was in response to such thoughts. I've decided to take life as it is and not be in such a hurry to get through it. It's time to suck the marrow out of life. Time to get my head straight.

I was bombarded with text messages, phone calls, and e-mails; all wishing me a happy birthday. My mother's phone call woke me up, as expected, and she assured me that she was proud to have me as a son. She would stand behind any decision I make involving my immediate future- Cleveland or Vegas. The highlight was probably the BBQ a week prior. Everyone was there. The mood was exceptional and the food was top notch. Always a good idea.
New shoes, Toshi Double Straps, camera, shirt, hand-knit scarf, gloves, Ratatat "Classics", another turntable, and treats upon treats; I'd say I made out like a bandit.

What more could I wish for?

Good friends...

A better tomorrow...

Health and the means to do so...

and keep smiling through it all...



I'm a happy camper

USPS took pity on me. Turns out I forgot I sent it to my mom's house in Henderson. So the DVD was just chilling for a few days. It's a great film. Lots of scary and glorious moments.


stay in the loop

begin transmission...
In the past week, I have managed to obtain 20 hours of sleep. My eyelids feel heavier than my body. I think I will sleep until Saturday.

I just wrapped up my second research paper and consider myself an amateur Feng Shui artist.

If I lived in San Francisco, I would receive my mash dvd and shirt today, via bike messenger. I obviously live in the wrong town.

in music...
After one million downloads and gong platinum...kinda, thehoodinternet released Volume II on Monday morning. While it starts off slow, it picks up and doesn't let go. With a laundry list of hits from yesterday and today, the combinations will shock and amaze you. I personally love the track with Rick Ross vs Ghosthustler vs Wilco. That shit was ridiculous.

Demonoid.com went under again. And as usual, they left with a single line saying thanks for understanding and they hope to be back soon. With OiNK completely out of the picture, the future of torrent sites looks grim. Just as I was about to download Ratatat "Classics" I get the news, so if anyone has that album please send it to me via e-mail, aim, pando, etc...

on the come up:
Next week is Thanksgiving and my Birthday. Get hyped. Small little BBQ this Saturday, message me if you want to attend. Burgers, fajitas, veggie burgers, smoresss. dang. Count that as the third consecutive birthday my parents have been out of town for. Seems to be a bigger deal to my friends than myself.

Well, I think that's about everything that's been on my mind.
end transmission....


wings to take flite

It has been a good day. Sold my Bridgestone to a good friend of mine. I'm glad it will be going to some good use. Now I have to get a front brake working for him, and he should be golden. Thanks Fish. Still no luck on selling my EGO Drumset, it's just sitting taking up space. If you know of anyone who wants a great sounding, looking kit, let me know...or them.

Matt sold me his KHS Flite 100 Track Bike. "57 with 48X17 gear ratio! Good geometry. Moving up. A bit harder to stop but I will find that sweet spot soon enough. I'm just waiting on a matching machined Deep-V rim with Miche Primato hub. Then I will be set.

yeahh my license place says Ketel 1, do something about it.
more pictures soon. time to ride.


the most famous Ciocc pursuit bike.

Effectiveness. My days have been in steady progress. My brain is a mass of bright, neon-colored Things To Do stickie notes. My head is moving a billion miles an hour. It only hurts if I sit still.

Things to look forward to...
New track bike
Bjork with Ratatat
and travel adventures coming soon...

Garrett let me ride this bike and no one else! Thanks man. I was very gentle, it was like riding a small clown bike. He jumped on mine and couldn't reach the pedals! :) I finally found a few picture of it. Go MASH a bike.
Click Here for stats and story.



The revolution will not be televised. 1:24. Who is that in the center with the khaki/red chrome bag?



::Demonoid Users::

The popular Demonoid.com, a semi-private BitTorrent tracker, has been taken offline. Both the torrent tracker and the site have been unresponsive for over twenty-four hours. Although there has been no official word, or statement from the Demonoid administrators, TorrentFreak claims that the Canadian Recording Industry Association (CRIA) is responsible for the downtime, but the CRIA has refused to comment.

see rest of article


Buffalo 66

-A personal classic of mine, that I just watched for the first time in a year. If you haven't seen it I highly advise that you do so immediately. Vincent Gallo directed, starred, and wrote this film. Gallo plays Billy Brown, recently released from prison and unable to find so much as a decent bathroom in his cold hometown. Billy's parents are unaware that he's been locked up; in a pathetic attempt to impress them with how successful he's become, he hits on the novel plan of kidnapping young dance student Layla (Ricci) and forcing her to play the role of his wife.

As the movie unfolds, we learn more about Billy's tormented childhood and unfortunate tendency to bet on the Bills in the Super Bowl. Gallo boldly throws himself into the task of playing a complete sleazebag, and Ricci does lovely standout work as the one ray of hope in the grinding darkness of Billy's life. This odd little love story is just the thing to make you feel better about your own relationship--especially if you're not in one.

I've never seen a film with a similar despondent atmosphere and minimalist cinematography. Gallo's wardrobe and attitude is flawless. It reminds me of a taller Dov Charney. And I envy his deep red boots.



This town has been hyped up for a few years by Christopher McGuinness and Huey Lewis. I think I could probably find my way around the town based off of Chris's description of the city and it's surrounding suburbs. No date as of yet, but Chris got me very very ecstatic when he suggested a visit. Our original trip was postponed, David Gamble moved back to Vegas, and my Coastline Couch Tour took way. I still have that travel bug in me and I have to skip town before it spreads.

Teachers are just professional students.

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Bittersweet Ending

I'm afraid i left a big hole in my trip, but it took me a few days to gather my thoughts and drive a few hundred miles home. So I apologize ahead of time for the sudden burst of inspiration and stagnant train of thought. After a day spent in San Francisco's Haight/Ashbury Street record stores, thrift stores, coffee shops, and American Apparels; I ventured off towards Reno, NV. There is a certain comfort I feel when i roll through Virginia Street and University. It's a town where i know some people, and know some places to go. A home away from home. A town that will be the end of me. i can't really come to the conclusion if I could really be happy, or at-least entertained, in a city outside like that.

I did things I never thought I could
Went to places I never thought I would
I crossed the oceanside
and split the sea with my car
Trekked through the mountaintops and through the plains
Saw a distance forest
turn into bare desolate terrain
Watched side streets turn into Kodak moments
and feared forever that life wouldn't be as potent 
Years later I will learn this was a horrible fear.

I have developed a bad habit of driving too fast. A cop car should not be your back door. I nearly had a conniption fit when I got behind a car going only seventy miles and hour. I've gotten so used to going and going just to get somewhere, that I have forgotten the rule of travel: enjoy the destination. There isn't anything i wished I did differently, as I am often asked, on this voyage of mine. All plans where controlled by myself and that made for half the fun. i only wish I would of had more time to explore the great up north, but San Francisco took a stranglehold on me and my time. Dharma. Such is Life.

i promised myself that I would use this page strictly for travel purposes. I am going to try to adhear to my proposal and maybe post entries on places I would like to see, or at-least legitamitally plan on seeing. Michelle, Daman, and I said that we would meet again in Eygpt; well you never know. Maybe not so brash as something so foreign, but I have been talking about England and Ireland to my family with great interest. So on my bombardment of manifest destiny in search of my own, I tackeled the coast with the lone determination to make somethng, anything, make sense. In a later phase with recapitulation in full bloom, my actions will make sense to me, but historians never make the greatest fortune tellers.

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I got a late start at the highway but it was a Monday and most of the rush died the night before. I had made the decision a day earlier to drive straight to San Francisco, instead of my original plan to go to Vancouver. The whole reason i was going to go up there was for a Hey Fixie ride up in Canada. Well I would of had to drive from Vancouver to Vegas in two days!! I want to enjoy my way back home and take it as slow as possible. Besides, despite only being 49 square miles, there is still way too many things I want to see in San Francisco. I wanted to fall asleep in the fog of the bay so i can pretend to wake up in the clouds.

The road back to Northern California was a long one, I knew. I had to drive straight through Oregon and a few hours deep into the middle of the Golden State. Bob Dylan lead the soundtrack to my frantic drive back to see the bay. I gave a quick smirk when he mentioned-"getting stuck on the five forever."  Dylan would roar at the frenzied cluster fuck of SUV-soccer-mom's playing taxi cab driver on the 5. The scenery changed slowly from plains evergreen labyrinths to dry, flat farmland. I passed the usual homemade signs advertising family farms growing cherries, blueberries, stawberries, and every other berry you could think of. I arrived to the house in the dead of night and passed out on my makeshift bed- in my Uncle's home.

I woke up to the faint sound of Mexican laborers working on the extensive renovation project outside. When I first arrived to the house my Uncle Jon gave me a tour of the house and explained all the remodeling and landscaping that was in progress. it's going to be a pretty fascinating house. The kind to grow old in, the kind to retire in, and the kind that makes you truely proud of your life's hardwork. Applaud Applaud. But for the moment I was trying to sleep off an eleven hour drive I had to endure the day before.

No matter, I was off for the bay. I drove through the bay town of Sausalito and parked as soon as possible. Assembled my bike, grabbed my bag from my trunk and crushed it up the windy hills to the Golden Gate Bridge...finally. It isn't the hills that give me a struggle; it's the cold and freezing constant wind. There was a point coming up one of the hills that I would see clouds billowing down the mountaintops. it was like watching the weather channel in fast forward. I had forgotten how massive that bridge actually was. It was hard to tell and take it all in from the safety of a car. The bridge lies 4,200 feet across and connects the Marin County to San Francisco. Not a bad bike ride but with the freezing and high winds it was a bit of a challenge. i was just in shock that it's still like this in the middle of July, but then again a lot of things fascinate me. Well that's one goal you can cross of my list of things to do. For my next adventure I'm going to need a rocket, two magnets, and whole lot of will power.

Shitty photo. 'twas windy.

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i awoke to the sounds of seagulls outside my hotel window. I had to regain composure and lay there for a second to remember where i am. i seem to be doing a lot of that as of late. I repack what little items i took out of my bag and proceeded to checkout. The complimentary breakfast was as expected: a few mini muffins, apple/orange juice dispenser, coffee, and cold cereal. I took what i could hold in my hands and gave the key card to the man behind the counter.

I left the hotel to HWY-101 with the shield of fog still present. i decided before I left that I would head to Eugene, OR to check out one of the American Apparel's. It's a simple enough drive and it is actually on the way. I follow my mapquest-given directions and, of course, it tries to send me down a one-way street. I park a few blocks away and assemble my bicycle; that has been in my back seat for about a day now. I was so ecstatic that there was a trail of bike lanes everywhere. The AA is in the epicenter of university district. While the summer-school crowd is very small, I can only imagine what this town is like in full-fall-bloom.

After assessing the store and buying a striped hoodie i get back on the 5. Driving through Portland I felt disappointed for not stopping in Hawthorne or Downtown to say, "hello." to some old friends. There is a piece of my heart still in the city. Grace, I later find out has been in the mountains for a few days, has her phone go straight to answer machine. Matthew Gilbert, as always, is impossible to get a hold of. I heard he moved up there for recording or living or something or another; phone goes straight to an automated," The number you are trying to reach is not in service or has been disconnected." Great. Oh Matthew, why must you persist on being immobile. By the time I tried to call Frank my phone lost signal. Next time guys.

After passing a few quaint beach towns and tourist charm spots I arrive in Astoria, OR. A town on the very edge of Oregon beauty. A small (Columbia) river separates the town from the Washington border. I feverishly dial Michelle and she was waiting outside. Michelle offered to take me in last spring when I almost didn't have a place to stay in Portland, luckily Frank pulled through then. A bright, smart, independent, cultured, and strong woman showed me around her home and later the town. She said I looked hungry-major understatement- so she cooked up some crazy seafood dishes. White Salmon, found only in a few remote parts of the coast, caught only the day before by her fisherman friend was unbelievable. Michelle talked to me a lot about her kids, and how they are slowly doing their own thing in life. it's expected and she knows that; it's just a little hard to get used to after being a mother for so many years. Daman, another vacationing friend of hers was also staying in the house for a bit. Another important character in this little adventure of mine. Always walking around with a smile on my face and always wanting to show me new card games. He works with disabled children in his hometown, (Albany,OR) so he knows and is taught a lot of activities to keep the kids entertained.

After a few days of just lounging around on Michelle's sofa, staring at the view of the Columbia, reading the subterraneans, daydreaming of adventures to come, watching the clouds roll in and out over the valley, and listening to world eclectic music; it was time for me to hit the road. I was feeling a bit restless and wanted to get back on the highway; strangely. After Daman and Michelle got back 'clam digging' we made french toast and had breakfast together; not our last meal together we assured ourselves. Companion, Michelle taught me, means to break bread together. It was apropriate that our last meal together held true to the definition.The world is too small and time is too short for us not to meet again. Egypt, we joked, was where we will meet again.

We toasted to new friendships and to safe travels.

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I drove for seven hours straight just to wake up in Oregon. I left with the intentions of seeing the Golden Gate before I left. With a combination of bad directions and frustration from California traffic I took a left at the fork in the road that read: HWY-101 South (San Francisco) or HWY-101 North (Santa Rosa). I decided to venture up Northern California.

I'm not sure it gets much better listening to Pedro the Lion and being completely surrounded by trees the size of sky scrappers. There were some points going through the Redwood Forest that I was engulfed in an evergreen tunnel. i passed town after town with names all alike, soon to be forgotten, and all with their own heathen humans who take suspicious look at the red Chevy Lumina with the 'Ketel 1' license plate.

I crossed the Oregon border and my body and car had had enough. The road wears me out and it's taking it's toll on my mind. I turned into the first hotel i saw and spent more money on a hotel room than I had spend on any single item my whole trip. While the coffee is weak, and the internet goes on and off every two seconds, and the view of the trailer park across the street is not completely attractive; I am just happy to make it to another state. When the going gets tough, the tough go driving.

I'm too tired to write anymore. Tomorrow morning I will attack the complimentary breakfast because of the hotel's room ridiculous prices, it's what you get.



250.74 miles and roughly four hours later I arrived in Vallejo to greet my Uncle Jon. I hadn't seen him in a year and his daughter in eighteen: family right. But they couldn't of been better to me. Jon insisted that he show me everywhere inside, around, in between, about, and underneath the great city of San Francisco. He drove me through countless back roads and gave me minute history lessons on each town and area. i got to hand it to him, he sure does know his history and I was simply dumbfounded with all the trivia he knew on the area.

We all had dinner downtown where I finally got to see the rest of my cousins that I havent seen in years. Brenden and I talked as if we saw each other a week ago, when in reality it had been four years. It was good to talk to someone on my level, someone who knew what I came here for, someone who was sure to show me how, just someone. We ate more that evening than I had eaten all trip. Afterwards it was dark and the city turned on their lights. For a second I forgot where I was and had to back track a bit. Jon wanted me to see all of SF so I can go off by myself and see what I wanted to see without being completely lost.

Despite what you have heard walking around and getting lost in San Francisco IS the thing to do. Brenden gave me a map which came in handy quite often but I let my shoes lead the way. I didn't take in the magnitude of these hills from inside a passenger seat, but who in their right minds would build on something that steep. I saw a messenger slowly climb up one of the hills and I just stood in awe. After a few heavy down strokes, he was on top of that hill; quickly looking back for a quick marvel and self assurance.

What could be said of this place: the people, the cultures, the cycling, the fashion, the history, the weather, the food; all top-notch. It never exceeded 80 degrees and my hoodie never became too much of a burden. I could go on forever on each street i walked, which shops I visited, how many miles I walked, how many more I saw from the trolley, but it wouldn't do any justice.

I'm at a bit of a crossroads in my trip. The days are being pulled away and Vancouver is so far. Do I press on towards the 101 immediately and continue my trek through the coast? Or do I stay another day and ride my bike along the Golden Gate Bridge and visit Haight/Ashubry again? I've got to find the balance between time and space: Such is life.

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450.09 miles and roughly six hours later I arrived in Reno,NV from Las Vegas, NV.
I can't really say that it has hit me, as of how far and how long I will be gone from home. Reno is a regular stop for myself. I come here on a spontaneous outbursts. I didn't even have to look at my map. Well, I made a wrong turn by not going on I-80 but quickly realized I had made the mistake earlier, only a few miles and minutes lost. God damn you Fallon, NV: you mess me up every time.

I grabbed some Cliff Bars, Chips, Vitamin, and Smart Water from Whole Foods before I left Vegas. My iPod is working perfectly and I just made a much-needed roadtrippin playlist. Full of Grandaddy, Pedro the Lion, Justice, Air, the Promise Ring, and m83: just to name a few. Shortly after my arrival to Ashley's house I passed out cold. Highway fatigue had been building up since the 95. I hadn't slept that hard in weeks.

9 am: bike ride down S. Virgina to go visit Amay at her new job. She recognized me this time. Which is hard to believe on accounts of my extreme hair cut. (pictures soon). I proceeded down the road looking for Court Street. A man in a SUV assured me I was going the right direction. I found Dharma Books like a possessed refugee, finding comfort and relishing in the pillars of classic and current novels. I purchased a book of Selected Poems from Leonard Cohen and the subterraneans by Jack Kerouac, appropriately. I later visited Never Ender and the Pnuematic Diner, which was too full for me to sit and eat a vegan panini: it's not like I'm never coming back. While leaving the Peppermill I recieved a phone call from Matt Della Salla, i had completely forgotten that he moved up state so soon. We meet by the river and I showed Matt and Amber around as if I was a local to the city. We walked back to their apartment, that's a mear walking distance from UNR. I admire their convictions and happiness, it's a rare thing to find two people so in love and focused; not quite envious but certainly eye opening. Rode back through suburbs of antique homes and shitty roads, quite sure I popped my tire at least three times.

Tomorrow morning I will burst onto the I-80 Westbound for three hors. Destination Redwood, CA; one-hour shy of the Golden Gate. Phone, iPod, Camera, feet, and car well rested and charged.