Party Recap: Sculpting Snow

Or, (alternate title): "Everything was going pretty smoothly until someone fed me bourbon-flavored beer and champagne, I acted like a crazed jerk on crack for an hour and then went 'nighty-night' on the couch." I'd work on a New Year's resolution to "Quit blaming other people for my problems" if only some folks weren't so damned culpable. Okay, sorry, I promise to "own" my behavior.


Our impromptu New Year celebration was a fun time. Not bad for something we decided to do two and a half days earlier. Here's a little recap in photos:

Mark Rahn's firebox had been living here since the Flecktoberfest back in November. It shows evidence of what things have been like in MN since the time we could last see the bare earth.



Snow (boatloads of snow) presents its own pleasantries -- you can carve custom-made furniture out of it. Here, with the aid of nothing more than a crude snow shovel, I've built a beer cooler and firewood holder. Drink holders were as simple as shoving your bevvy into the powdery upper layer.



On 14 degree nights, lots of firey implements are in order (with their own recessed snow slots, of course).


Sylvia was a trooper. She spent a lot of time outside learning the nuances of fire smoke and cold weather comforts. Earlier that day she let me know what a trip to the beer store meant to her -- she got to get a sucker. Oh, innocence.

Mark Rahn's triumphant arrival. This guy is a gem. He hauled two growlers of Surly Furious over and took care of the fire. Mark, I'll gladly bow out as firemaster whenever you're around. All I have to say is you and I need to do some BWCA camping sometime ... soon.

More friends on bikes taking advantage of prime snowbank bike parking. If you're reading this post from points south here's proof you have no excuse to quit riding your bike all winter. These particular friends arrived after reading about my party on my blog. Yeah! Someone's paying attention!



Carrie and Matt (two of the bike arrivals). Very nice chatting with you both and meeting you, Carrie. Even though not a bike freak, she rode over anyway (more proof that you softies down south need to keep riding). Matt makes a mean mocha at CRC when he's not teaching your kid how to play guitar, designing stuff for Space 2 Burn or rocking out in his band. Oh, shit -- that reminds me I forgot to invite Trevor! Sorry ...

Erik Noren (background) and resident shutterbug Emery in the foreground. I was happy to see Noren crawled out of his shop for the party. Mark on the other hand is always there, sometimes when you least expect him. Careful, he has a very techy camera and a quick shutter-release-button finger. If you commit it, he will catch it on digi-film. Don't mess with him -- he turned down a Celebration Ale for a PBR.

Mark Rahn shovels some grub while April goes for a wine glass for the sparkling cider -- ever the responsible Mom. My excuse: I'm drinking for two. Would that hold up in a court of law?

Gratuitous fire shot. The fire carved some beautiful patterns in the shoveled-out snow. More on that a bit later.

Carrie and Johnny. Things were way foggy by this point for reasons mentioned above. These two arrived as our last guest, Mr. Rahn, was leaving. I can recommend (with some reservation) that if you haven't tried it you ought to quaff a Goose Island Bourbon Country Brand Stout. It will change the way you see the world. (4 packs only. May not be legal in some areas. Limited restrictions apply.) Johnny and Carrie were good sports (Especially Carrie. Rollergirls can handle anything you can dish out. Thank you for not punching me. And BTW, Johnny, your double middle fingers would carry more weight were you not sporting a Flanders jacket. I'm just saying it because others are thinking it.) I never thought a video I'd play at a party would be the 1934 Canadian Canoe Demonstration. It's a cool flick and all. You can probably find some of it on Youtube. Hell, there are probably videos of you showering on Youtube and you have no idea. Better check -- NOW.

The remains of a successful celebration. The fire took the ice out straight to the bare ground and also left some incredible melt patterns. You can see two layers from separate storms -- the earlier, dirtier layer and the later, pristine white layer. One of my least favorite things about snowfall is the technology we throw at it in order to get it out of the way. Dude, snow just wants to be.

Detail of ice melt. Dig it.

The day after. Sylvia discovers the Dragon mask in her toy bin. (Sorry, Johnny, it's not another nudie.) Later we headed to IKEA. I have to confess I love IKEA. It appeals to my anal-retentive sense of order and minimalist design. We ate lunch at IKEA. I left my heart in IKEA, but we didn't spend any money (beyond lunch) ... yet.

Currently? 3 degrees, headed to -4 overnight. One of my most important resolutions? Ride to work EVERYDAY. That means tomorrow. Gotta dig out some clothes. Currently playing? Sabbath N.I.B.. Sabbath may actually be surpassing the esteem I hold for Led Zeppelin, narrowly, of course. Rock on, friends.

All Bikes Are Not Created Equal

Thanks to the marvels of the internet (and the tireless efforts of the encyclopedic Sheldon Brown) the wonderful Bridgestone catalogs of yore live on in the virtual world. Following is a link to an excerpt from the 1994 Bridgestone book. It features a fascinating discussion of bike frame materials from the standpoint of production. Have you ever wondered what goes into mining, smelting and eventual recycling, if applicable, of metals? Well, read on. It might just curb that lust you have for a spiffy titanium ride. (No offense to Moots or Seven, and if you were planning on surprising me with a gift of either, I'll still accept it.) Carbon isn't even dealt with in this discussion. As a veteran of the composite canoe industry, I can assure you it's no enviro-friendly alternative. Sadly, most carbon parts are built for weight savings over durability and are basically throw-away items once fatigued. Carbon fiber cannot be recycled as of yet.

Tomorrow, for the hell of it, I'm going to make up a new post. It will be #99 for the year 2007 and that seems like some sort of milestone, I reckon. Maybe I'll post 2 and make is an even 100. We're also hosting a little New Year's shindig. Stop by around 7 or after if you're in town for a potluck grill feast and outdoor fire. Yep, in Minnesota it's never a bad day to grill out.

Tune in, Turn On, Dropouts

Needs fenders, rack, bar tape and extras but it's coming along.

Dropouts. Yep. Speaking of bikes, I mostly finished my new Cross Check. In some fit of stupidity I overlooked an obvious incompatibility issue. The rear wheel that came off my old Malvern is a 120mm track spaced hub. That ain't fitting in my Surly Gnot-Right 132.5mm drops. Oops. For the time being I spaced out a cog on an old road wheel I had laying around. I'd rather it were fixed, but for now it is just a single speed.

Special thanks to Erik Noren, the Liberace of bikes, for facing and chasing the frame in his illustrious shop, the world headquarters of Peacock Groove. Order a frame from him. He builds STEEL -- no carbon; no Ti; no Scandium, Unbendium or Unobtainium crap. Steel is real. That is all. Thanks, Erik for letting my frame into your steely sanctuary, the "Church of CroMo" -- yeah, that's got a ring to it. One day I'll order a frame from you, my friend.

A miscellaneous box outside the PG headquarters. The blocky font and all caps juxtaposed with the imploring message of compassion somehow struck me. These are good words to live by.

More photos to follow after the bike is finished.

If You Can Read This, You're in Good Company

This just in -- Mpls is the most literate city in the US:

Overall, the top 10 most literate (and wired) cities included:
1—Minneapolis, Minn.
2—Seattle, Wash.
3—St. Paul, Minn.
4—Denver, Colo.
5—Washington, D.C.
6—St. Louis, Mo.
7—San Francisco, Calif.
8—Atlanta, Ga.
9—Pittsburgh, Pa.
10—Boston, Mass.

Minneapolis, Seattle, Pittsburgh, Denver and Washington, D.C., have made the top 10 every year since 2003, when the survey first launched.

St Paul coming in 3rd, not bad. BRose will be happy to see that Pittsburgh made the Top 10 list. Hey, Milwaukee may have us for the honor of most liquored-up, but at least we can read the Surgeon General's warning on our beer cans!

Goobye to another friend

It is a sad day when you have to say goodbye to a bike. It's one thing if you sell a trusty steed (see post below), quite another if you break it. It seems I broke my favorite snow bike -- my fixed gear Malvern Star. Sheer simplicity: cross tires, a flat bar, clip on fenders and no brakes. Nothing to jam up, foul up or freeze shut when you're riding through slop and slush. Last night while cleaning the bike I discovered a circumferential crack where the seat tube joins the bottom bracket shell. The lug is cracked all the way through. I guess I'd heard some creaking and noticed my crank was bending in on the down pedal stroke. I elected not to ride it although failure would most likely not be catastrophic since the seat tube is wedged against the BB shell. But it certainly does make for a sloppy ride. The worst part will be telling Timmy G from work. He fished the bike out of the trash many years ago. He sold it to one co-worker who gave it to another. Then I bought it for $25 with a seatpost and headset last fall. I think I got my money out of it, but I am always sad to see a good lugged frame bite the dust. And Tim was always excited to see that Malvern in the bike rack at work.


Here I am a year ago with the bike, Burley attached, on a ride to a New Year's party. The next day I started this blog.

Quite serendipitously I was in the bike shop not only to clean my winter ride but to also clear some space to begin prepping my new Surly Cross Check frame for building. It will be a fixed gear. Looks like it will be the bike that replaces this old departing ride. Now, of course I am excited to be building up a new bike, but still sad to see one go ...

A Whirlwind of Weather, Gifts and Screaming Toddlers

A Christmas tornado in a trailer park? No. It was simply the Fleck family foray to Iowa for the Holly Day. We departed somewhat reluctantly on Saturday as we all felt crabby and the weather (like our direction of travel) was only supposed to go further south as the day progressed. Like many spur of the moment family decisions, the matter was decided out of mutual desperation for the inability to decide the best course of action -- i.e. "To hell with it! I don't care if we get stuck in a blizzard -- we're leaving anyway!"

BTW What's playing now? (A la Johnny Kohtz) Pink Floyd, "Dark Side of the Moon" (And, yeah, I'm remembering watching The Wizard of Oz many years ago, stoned out of my gourd, while a friend played this album ...)

The drive began uneventfully enough. A stop at a rest area about one hour south of Mpls left us with some doubts as the attendant shared a rumor that I-35 had been closed at Faribault due to glare ice. We pushed on wondering whether our sluggish start would result in a turnaround. Long story short, the coot was lying and everything was fine ... until Iowa.

Iowa, oh Iowa. Iowa most frigid and wintry considering the heat of the Democratic candidates' endless shuffling and hot-forced-air rhetoric. Things quickly got interesting in Iowa. I slid (figuratively, luckily) into the pump at our usual gas stop in Waterloo.

The ground was rapidly collecting a blanket of snow atop a thin layer of ice. It was entertaining actually to watch the cars slipping and sliding while I fueled the Subaru. Further on we spotted so many cars in the ditch I lost count. Traffic was backed up for a bit due to a flipped truck and attending emergency vehicles. Blowing snow blocked vision for occasional stretches of 100m or so. Only an hour behind schedule, we arrived safely and were happy to be out of the car.

The worst was yet to come overnight as the high winds drove snow into beautiful, deep drifts. Temperatures in the low teens made certain the snow would stick around for the day. We took off for some visiting and shopping. It was obvious that downtown Iowa City doesn't often have to deal with such weather carnage. Thankfully, the front wheel drive Subaru plows right through surprisingly deep banks of slush puppy mix. While downtown April and I even helped push one car out of the snow. A good samaritan with nothing better to do could have spent all day doing that.

Graffiti in downtown Iowa City reminding me that I am not far from home.

I had a fun time driving (gasp) since I'm not too afraid of the white stuff and I am well aware of what our car can and cannot do. I also believe in slowing down appropriately when bad weather hits and doing my best to think while I'm driving. I find that lack of knowledge (i.e. ignorance) and its attending deficit of mental awareness are problems of drivers at both ends of the spectrum: snow causes some people to crawl along at 20mph when they could safely be driving the speed limit because they are scared and fear is fed by ignorance; conversely, some drivers pass a line of cars on a snow-clogged road or continue to drive 75mph after the road is coated with ice because they are stupid (ignorant) and/or just aren't paying attention. I relish in the rare occasion when I see them in the ditch up ahead.

Anyhow, this is a merry post, not a rant, right? We'll just get into some snappy photos:

Grandma Alice is a marvel. Because we didn't make it the day before for the scheduled brunch she fed us leftover casseroles. They were amazing and wonderful (and probably not good for my recently discovered high cholesterol, but it's the holidays!) Grandma Alice made a trip to Italy last year and isn't showing any signs of slowing down. Here Sylvia endures a forced pose with her great-grandmother.

Coralville Mall -- Dad is dressed in dark colors carrying a bag (both of which seemed to be out of vogue. Oh, will I ever be "in"?) while Sylvia is in a seventh heaven driving her faux car. Why don't they make kids' toys in the shapes of bikes?! (I think I've pondered this rhetorical question before.)

April with her dear friend, Marcus. He lives in Ireland these days and will soon hold a PhD in math. I wish Marcus lived closer. I also wish I had a scanned copy of their senior homecoming portrait together as Merlin and Mordred.

The best (healthiest) meal we ate all weekend was Xmas eve dinner. We prepared side dishes like spaghetti squash salad and sauteed kale to match Brian's grilling of two pork loins.

Brian (aka Dad) in his element -- t-shirt, beer in hand and ready to go. The smoked pork was excellent, in case you were wondering.

Erin is pondering something but it doesn't appear to be the rather curious presence of her buttered bread atop her beer.

This was Sylvia's most gendered Xmas yet. Here she models her new princess outfit. I hope we have a son next so we can pass it down to him. ("Now, son, your sister worked hard for this princess outfit and you're going to wear it with pride.")

Hannah tries to snatch a private moment to read following the gifting festivities.


Chef Sylvia shows off her latest creations. She didn't put down that basting brush the whole way home. She even calls it a basting brush. How many 2 yr olds know what the hell a basting brush is? The mini wooden kitchen she received from her grandparents has seen non-stop use since we go home Tuesday evening.

And that's a wrap! Merry Christmas and all that jazz from Clan Fleck! We still haven't completed our family holiday newsletter ... maybe by Valentine's Day?

Iowa Xmas Bound -- 58 hours and counting ...

I can't take credit for this bicycle brilliance. It's an image of a friend of my father-in-law's bike. His name is Curt. He gets definite points for style and initiative. You just don't see things quite so elaboratedly done when it comes to bike decoration in the Twin Cities.

I'm rambling and backtracking again. I never posted photos from Thanksgiving weekend in Iowa City. End of semester got the better of me. I love Iowa. I could see moving to Iowa City someday soon. The pace of life is just a little slower. Geographically it's not so stretched out. There aren't fixed gear cranking hipsters with bulging U-locks on every block. Of course, there's also not the bicycle-friendly infrastructure to the degree of Mpls. And I'd have to guess the "scene" is a little more cozy, too. But the place has a lot of great things going for it -- cool, artsy folks; history and natural beauty; and a friendly co-op that's not chock full o' Wedge fascist types.

We're headed back to IC this Saturday for a fun-filled Fleck family Christmas. It's never a dull time when we get together for family holidays.

Here I am showing my approval of the Thanksgiving feast along with Hannah, Julian and Sylvia.

An angelic (and cherubic) Sylvia surveys her domain.

An attempt at a family potrait for Dad and Sabra.

Sabra and Dad prep the feast. I can't wait to see what surprises await us on our next adventure to Iowa ... just two short days away. Iowa -- the focus of the Democratic candidates' efforts; Iowa -- the land of raptors and endless cornfields (sheltering food for those majestic birds); Iowa -- the mythical "middle" of America.