dbrk
07-13-2004, 11:04 PM
Today I met a friend of ours, known on our Forum as D. Keith Arbuckle from Florida. His lovely, lovely family---wife and three daughters---stopped in at my house this afternoon to visit with Madeleine, Charlotte, Aimee, and Mira the Dog; oh yeah, they came to see me too and that was really nice of them. They were really fun, easy going, and, for the most part, laughed at my jokes and played with my dog till she panted from exhaustion (no mean feat given this dog's pedigree of whippet and borzoi...). She loved them, they loved her. Keith's daughter Amy declared Mira the Silkenwindhound to be "the perfect dog." Great pooch, great kid. Summer has it wonders.
Keith rode my Fina, though we had to fuss with it some to dial in the fit. Finas use some stupit [sic] seatpost diameter and the WR Composti pillar has this two bolt system that makes finding the sweet setup spot a task somewhere between a long day in Dante's Purgatory and the stress riser common to old Campy NR/SR cranks that nearly killed you but didn't...I mean, yikes! Only a minor hassle. But we got him on the bike and he looked darn good. Waaaay better than I look on that bike. Keith's verdict was that the Pegoretti is a fine ride. He was heard to have said, "this is actually a comfortable aluminum bike..."
Of course, Keith did most of the talking out on the ride, that is when I could keep his wheel and my breath. He hadn't been out for a ride for nearly two weeks (they are on vacation...) and since he's from Florida he loves, misses, wants to climb. Jonesin' for a ride and tuned like Yo Yo Ma's cello, this guy could turn a wheel in anger in a way to make Phil proud. Furthermore this Florida fella' (like our Russ) is no flatlander, he's one fast dude, and he's fit and skinny, and dang, every single incline (not even hill) provided sufficient provocation to get him out of the saddle and humpin' like Lance. I felt like Mayo just sucking his wheel and hoping for a reprieve. He was kind enough to sit up once or twice but for the most part I held my own and kept a fair pace. We had a fine time, just under two hours out (or maybe just over), but a fairly enthusiastic pace that would have been an inspiration even to our pal Hypnos, who this fella' reminded me a lot of: fit, hammering the hills, good natured enough not to drop his mates. This ride "normally" takes over two hours. Honest. Not today.
Keith seemed to enjoy the basement too. We pulled down a slew of bikes. I pointed out a ton of old, weird stuff (things like 4 speed Cyclo derailleurs are not things you see often even in old bike shops...), and he brought his video camera back down there while I cooked dinner. Gotta' feed'em, you know, my mother is Italian (of the Jersey immigrant variety, somewhere between Corleone and Soprano but without the guns...), so I cooked till we were fed. While Keith and I rode eariler, the girls picked black raspberries, walked around the ponds, and played with il cane.
But at the near end of the night I drove Keith's very sweet and fun loving daughters around the yard (about 50 acres) on my redneck ATV to show them our sights, including the lane in the woods I call "firefly alley." Here there are millions of the little lamps all lighting up to greet you---and Keithe's sweetie daughters had never seen such things before. Can you imagine the first time you really got to hang with fireflies? How good is that? It was fun to be part of that experience. We zoomed about like Green Acres hillbillies and it 'twas All That, I say.
My gratitude again to Ben and Co. because without _this_ place, this experience of friendship would have never happened. I got to meet a fine and truly interesting fellow, his wonderful family, and have them meet my girls. We talked life and food and bikes and normal stuff.
If you come by the Finger Lakes, do stop in here. Serottafolks have, to the last, proven themselves really fine people.
dbrk
Keith rode my Fina, though we had to fuss with it some to dial in the fit. Finas use some stupit [sic] seatpost diameter and the WR Composti pillar has this two bolt system that makes finding the sweet setup spot a task somewhere between a long day in Dante's Purgatory and the stress riser common to old Campy NR/SR cranks that nearly killed you but didn't...I mean, yikes! Only a minor hassle. But we got him on the bike and he looked darn good. Waaaay better than I look on that bike. Keith's verdict was that the Pegoretti is a fine ride. He was heard to have said, "this is actually a comfortable aluminum bike..."
Of course, Keith did most of the talking out on the ride, that is when I could keep his wheel and my breath. He hadn't been out for a ride for nearly two weeks (they are on vacation...) and since he's from Florida he loves, misses, wants to climb. Jonesin' for a ride and tuned like Yo Yo Ma's cello, this guy could turn a wheel in anger in a way to make Phil proud. Furthermore this Florida fella' (like our Russ) is no flatlander, he's one fast dude, and he's fit and skinny, and dang, every single incline (not even hill) provided sufficient provocation to get him out of the saddle and humpin' like Lance. I felt like Mayo just sucking his wheel and hoping for a reprieve. He was kind enough to sit up once or twice but for the most part I held my own and kept a fair pace. We had a fine time, just under two hours out (or maybe just over), but a fairly enthusiastic pace that would have been an inspiration even to our pal Hypnos, who this fella' reminded me a lot of: fit, hammering the hills, good natured enough not to drop his mates. This ride "normally" takes over two hours. Honest. Not today.
Keith seemed to enjoy the basement too. We pulled down a slew of bikes. I pointed out a ton of old, weird stuff (things like 4 speed Cyclo derailleurs are not things you see often even in old bike shops...), and he brought his video camera back down there while I cooked dinner. Gotta' feed'em, you know, my mother is Italian (of the Jersey immigrant variety, somewhere between Corleone and Soprano but without the guns...), so I cooked till we were fed. While Keith and I rode eariler, the girls picked black raspberries, walked around the ponds, and played with il cane.
But at the near end of the night I drove Keith's very sweet and fun loving daughters around the yard (about 50 acres) on my redneck ATV to show them our sights, including the lane in the woods I call "firefly alley." Here there are millions of the little lamps all lighting up to greet you---and Keithe's sweetie daughters had never seen such things before. Can you imagine the first time you really got to hang with fireflies? How good is that? It was fun to be part of that experience. We zoomed about like Green Acres hillbillies and it 'twas All That, I say.
My gratitude again to Ben and Co. because without _this_ place, this experience of friendship would have never happened. I got to meet a fine and truly interesting fellow, his wonderful family, and have them meet my girls. We talked life and food and bikes and normal stuff.
If you come by the Finger Lakes, do stop in here. Serottafolks have, to the last, proven themselves really fine people.
dbrk