I Take That Back

The Tour is obviously not 'on' this year. Thanks, media, for ruining one of the greatest sporting events ever.

While the final stage tomorrow will be exciting, with just 31" separating the top three riders, it's been a tough race to get attached to this year: the riders are dropping like flies and not from the brutality of the race. It's the DOPE, dudes, don't get caught by The Man.

Doping has a long legacy in the Tour, and it has finally reached a crisis stage (AKA: the 21st stage, which is like the 19th hole but with far fewer martinis) with it's 'intervention-style' manner of cleaning the sport up. Bravo, Tour. We all agree that we want everyone competing on an even playing field. Now what I'd like to know is: why is it so hard to prove the results of the vast matrix of dope tests, and why are certain riders targeted when it is suspicious that everyone is doing it.

I've read so many articles on doping and how they test the athletes, it is a process that is intricately designed...yet athletes still find ways to circumvent the system and dope. It reminds me of airport security, the dope testers really act as more of a facade which tricks the public into believing that the infrastructure supports a fair race. But in reality, the dopers--like terrorists--are always one step ahead.

I think the whole debacle is sad. I wish I could believe the riders who claim they are wrongly accused of doping, but I am dubious. And I'm not sure I really care whether they dope or not. Ok, in a moralistic context, I think it's wrong. The race should be testing human limits. But let's not fool ourselves into thinking it's as simple as pointing fingers at the riders. The media loves the scandal and the viewers eat up the drama. Spectators are in awe of riders who can perform seemingly inhumane acts of endurance. And we all want to believe that these riders are something more than incredible cyclists; we have to turn them into heroes, which they couldn't possibly be if they're doping.

And secretly, if offered, I'd give doping a try. I'd really love to know what it feels like to ride 200 KM with 10,000 elevation gains and still feel great.

The 2007 Tour is ON

Watching the Tour de France is one of my favorite annual activities. Watching a stage live is up there on my list of things to do before I die. It's an inspiring feat of endurance, individual and team effort, strength and will...but mostly I just enjoy all of the tight tushies.

George Hincapie and The Discovery Team is keeping the US in the game, with a 4th place standing after Stage 2. That's despite the fact that he went down in the big pile-up in the last 3KM. Thanks, Tough Guy. Keep up the good work.

The Bug

Just outside of Yosemite, there's a quirky little spot that attracts all the quirky little people. That must be why my friends Aidan and Steph decided to book a handful of cabins at the Yosemite Bug, a hostel about 25 miles outside of the park, and invite the inner circle up for some tree-hugging fun. This was also the first getaway they had planned, post birth of their little three-month old bundle of giggles, Aine.

I am always a little bitter when I have to leave the beautiful city of San Francisco on a day when the weather is perfect. Contrary to popular belief (held by people who have never lived here), the weather in this city can be pretty damned crappy. The more beautiful it is everywhere else, the colder, foggier, and windier it is here. So when it's actually nice here, as it was on July 4, it's most likely an oven everywhere else. As we passed through Livermore, Tracy, Modesto, on the drive up to the mountains, the thermometer kept rising. When we pulled up at The Bug, it was over 100 degrees...in the shade.

Things move pretty slowly in Bugland, and since our tent cabins were not yet ready (because tent cabins require soooo much cleaning), we had a few beers and followed Aidan to a watering hole only to find that it had nearly dried up. Really, it was just a mosquito brothel, but that didn't stop Aidan from tearing off his cloths and jumping in, bombs away! I can't blame him, it was really hot, but still...after, we drove down to the Modesto River and had a little swim in the gorgeously clear water as the sun was going down.

Water levels in Yosemite are low this year because there was little rain/snow during the rainy season. So the next morning when Aidan proposed that we follow him to a different watering hole, we were dubious to say the least. Temperatures were already over 100 by 10am, and we needed cooling like a pint of ice cream left on the counter. The pressure grew as we got out of the car and leered into the gorge which had no site of water anywhere below. "It'll be worth it," Aidan reassured us in his Irish lilt. How could we be suspicious of that? Sure enough, there was a lovely hole of water at the bottom and we wasted no time jumping in...and jumping off of any and all of the surrounding rocks over and over. Good times.

On Friday, the heat was really getting to us, so we headed up to the safe elevation of Tuolumne Meadows. We spent most of the day lounging at Tenaya Lake, taking in all of the beauty and making fun of all of the hippies (white people with dreadlocks = endless hours of entertainment!) Then we got an ice cream, sat in Tuolomne Meadow and let the "life is good" feeling wash over us. Sigh, it's just so beautiful there.

By Saturday, it had cooled down to a tolerable 90's, but we were heading home to a foggy, frigid city. We'll be back again before the summer's done, I'm sure. In the meantime, some memorable moments...
1)Aine's pooping demonstration at the Happy Burger
2)Game of Taboo, Steph says, "What do you use to call Ireland?" The correct answer is "calling card", Aidan answers, "My accent".
3)The staff at The Bug threatening to charge us corkage for the bottle of wine we brought.
4)Dominick, gay enough for the entire Yosemite Valley.
5)The two brothers from Antioch and their dog Nacho. Classic.

RAGING Waters

Are you a RAGER? Then RAGING Waters is the place for you. The waters there are RAGING. And so are the lines for french fries and dippin' dots. When I think about the prototype person who lives to rage, whose every breath is a breath of exhilaration, RAGING Waters theme park in San Jose, CA is exactly the place where I expect to find this person...shriveling, deteriorating, wilting like a sea urchin crossing a salt field.

It was my idea to go to Raging Waters and I have spent the last 24 hours berating myself for such a poor choice in weekend activity. I thought it would be fun, the way that fireworks are fun even when you're an adult. Then I realized, fireworks really aren't much fun...to the sober adult. And the same rule should most definitely apply at Raging Waters. There are a lot of sad things about Raging Waters, but in my opinion, the saddest was that there was no bar to belly up. In fact, the ticket-taker actually laughed at me when I asked him where the cocktails were. "Those aren't cocktails" he said, spitting through his braces, "Those are yard stick freezies." Whatever that is. Would I need to endure an entire day of raging fun sans mojito? Tragic.

The first thing I learned at Raging Waters was something about myself. And while this lesson won't do me much good out in the world, I suppose I sought out the situation because it was a lesson I really needed to learn. I do not like water slides. I figured this out about 3 seconds after I let go on the first slide. That thing was fast, man. And steep. My stomach was in my mouth, my bathing suit quickly became a wedgy. And I remembered, I'm not so much into speed and heights, or wedgies for that matter. In fact, I pretty much turn to jello when approaching any type of ledge. Brian kept asking me: how could you have just swum from Alcatraz and now wimp out on these slides? I guess I'm just not really a RAGER, Brian.

The second thing I learned at Raging Waters had nothing to do with myself. It was more a commentary on how pathetic Americans can truly be. Do I need to write an editorial about the RAGING obesity issue in America? Or can I just post some choice pictures and let my viewers select their own verbiage to describe what they see? What I learned was that people don't just go to Raging Waters for the slides, they go for the grub. Because that's what love costs, $5.95 for the large sized fries.
Here's the menu at Raging Waters:
Tub of french fries
Pizza (tastes like de-frosted cardboard)
Dippin' Dots
Nachos
Burger
Ice cream

All of these culinary options make an excellent pairing with the bathing suit. And I'd also like to know: after drinking those gallon-sized jugs of cola, where are all of those kids pee-ing? They are pee-ing in the raging water, that's where.

Come to think of it, I actually felt quite a bit of rage while at Raging Waters. But with a little bit of love and lightheartedness from my friends, I still managed to have a pretty ok time.