12.20.2007 | 1:39 pm
A Note from Fatty: For weeks, I have promised Susan that I would write a Christmas letter to send out to our friends and family. But while I — for some unknown reason — have no problem writing something each day for this blog, I have an incredibly difficult time sitting down and writing a letter recapitulating the year.
(Brief aside: could someone please explain why “recapitulate” means “to summarize briefly” when “capitulate” means “to surrender?” Thank you.)
Anyway, I figure that by now enough of you know me well enough that I ought to be sending you the Christmas letter anyway, so today’s post will do double duty.
And to those of you who hate Christmas letters: I apologize.
Dear Friends and Family,
2007 sucked. A lot.
Really, “sucked” is too weak of a word. “2007 sucked to the power of three” is more accurate. In the interest of brevity, let’s go with, “2007 sucked, cubed.”
This is not to say that nothing good happened this year. A lot of good things happened, and I’ll summarize them in just a minute. But the big thing that happened this year sucked (cubed), and I’m not going to pretend it didn’t.
Anyway, let’s get started with what happened to whom. I’ll lead with the lousy stuff, so we can finish on a positive note.
Susan
Most of you know that Susan battled cancer back in 2004. We thought we were done.
We aren’t.
Early this year, Susan found out that her breast cancer had come back and had metastasized. Susan has done radiation, followed by six months of chemotherapy.
Meanwhile, one of the tumors in Susan had ruined her left hip so badly that it became difficult for Susan to walk. She started using a cane, then went to crutches. By October, Susan wasn’t able to get comfortable anywhere. We found an excellent surgeon — one who specializes in bone tumors — who did a partial hip replacement for Susan just a few weeks ago.
People mention — often — how tough and brave Susan is, and they’re absolutely right. Susan tells me, though, she would gladly turn in some of the bravery for less pain and the ability to walk without crutches.
The silver lining with all this is that we’re finding out exactly how good people can be. Our neighbors, family, and friends have taken us under their collective wing and picked up the slack left when a mom can’t get around. Meals, rides for the kids, people staying with us when we need some full time assistance — we’ve now been helped so much that we don’t even concern ourselves about ever paying it back. We just try to be thankful that there are so many good folks who are willing to make us their project.
Which leads us to Elden. Um, me.
Elden
I’ve been keeping a blog for almost three years, called “Fat Cyclist” (www.fatcyclist.com). It started as a place where I could tell jokes and embarrass myself into keeping my weight down.
When Susan’s cancer came back, I had to decide between no longer writing the blog (I seriously considered this), continue writing the blog as if nothing had happened (not really possible; I’m not very good at faking a good mood), or telling my readers what was going on.
I chose to tell my readers what was going on, which may have been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Fat Cyclist readers sent in hundreds of cards and gifts. Twin Six — a bicycle jersey design company — created a special “Fighting for Susan” edition of the Fat Cyclist jersey, splitting the proceeds between Susan’s expenses and the Lance Armstrong Foundation.
People bought more than 600 of these jerseys — all of them we made. It even — amazingly — wound up on the cover of the most popular bicycling magazine in the country. Thanks to these people, when we needed to buy a stairlift — not cheap — we were able to do so with cash, and we’ve got money in the bank for when Susan’s well enough to go on a trip to Italy.
Every day, now, people reading my blog ask about Susan, letting us know that they’re sending prayers and good thoughts her way. It counts for a lot.
Oh yeah, I also rode my bike a lot and did some races.
And I have a really, really, really good job, with a boss that actively encourages me to keep my priorities straight — take care of my wife above all.
Nigel
Nigel is fourteen now. He is as tall as I am, with a high likelihood of being taller than me by sometime next week. He has an outrageous sense of humor, coupled with an intuitive grasp of math and logic, all wrapped up in a heart of gold. And he can crush rocks with his bare hands.
I may have made up that last bit.
Nigel loves programming in Flash, creating increasingly interesting and fun games and animation. He’s capable of keeping a non-finite number of instant message sessions going with his friends, who are spread across the globe. This means Nigel likes to both get up early and stay up late, so he’s able to chat with and collaborate with his friends in Australia, Canada, and the fourth moon of Jupiter.
Also, Nigel’s kicking butt in school. But not literally.
Brice
Brice, now 12, is incredibly smart, and — thanks to his love of reading — is his mom’s best friend. The two of them remind me of each other, the way they each have stacks of books piling up everywhere. They often read out loud to each other, and the rest of us find ourselves gathering around to listen.
Brice is in a gifted program at school. The technical term for this program is “My Child Thinks Your Child’s Honor Roll Program is Adorable” (MCTYCHRPIA). Brice finds the curriculum amusing, but not challenging.
Also, Brice will eat whatever we give him — the only child in the whole lot who doesn’t have some freakish “I hate any food that is not on my arbitrarily-chosen list of five strange-and-often-gross list.”
Brice has recently started playing the guitar, and is doing well at it. I, for one, am just glad he didn’t go for the flute (those of you who know me know I have a doglike sensitivity to high, piercing sounds).
I should also mention: Brice can move objects using nothing but his mind. He mostly uses this gift to tease the cat.
The Twins
The twins — Katie and Carrie — are doomed to always be lumped together, at least in these letters. That’s only fair, though; they’re inseparable. No, wait. That makes it sound like they’re conjoined. They’re not conjoined. They just do everything together.
Including the way they lose teeth.
I don’t know if all identical twins work this way, but our girls lost their front teeth within a couple days of each other. In the same order as each other. Wild.
The girls love to draw. They are as talented as they are prolific. Every day, they wake up, go downstairs, and work through about half a ream of paper.
They are not, alas, tidy. With the volume of paper they leave about, our house is probably a fire hazard. Please, extinguish your smoking material before entering the Nelson house. Or we’ll all die.
The girls have also fallen in love with mountain biking, which makes my heart sing. Carrie has proclaimed she wants to be a mountain biker when she grows up. Katie draws pictures for me saying she wants to go mountain biking again soon.
If only they would eat something besides soup, yogurt, and peanut butter sandwiches, they would be perfect.
Oh yes, they’ll eat ice cream, too.
2008
We’re looking forward to 2008. As soon as Susan can walk around the cul de sac using just a cane, we’re yanking the kids outta school and going to Disneyland. The kids have been great during this sucky (cubed) year; they deserve a vacation.
Hey, don’t we all.
Thanks very much to everyone for your continued friendship and familyship. Chances are, if we know you, we’ve been leaning on you.
Love,
Elden, Susan, Nigel, Brice, Katie and Carrie Nelson
PS: This will be my last post ’til after Christmas. Merry Christmas, and thanks for reading!
Comments (120)
12.19.2007 | 12:54 pm
Here’s something you may not know about me: after someone posts comments here for a while or I otherwise get to know them, I start considering what they might think of what I’m writing.
So, yes, sometimes I wonder what Al Maviva might write in the comment section. And I often wonder whether Dug will roll his eyes at a post where I talk sincerely about something.
Or, in the case of today’s post, I can’t help but wonder if Sans Auto and MinusCar will shake their heads in collective disappointment.
Because today, I am going to talk about how much I love my car.
Meet the BikeMobile
I used to be a car guy. I subscribed to several car magazines. I bought cars that were quick, balanced, and very fun to drive (Mazda Miata, Mitsubishi Eclipse GSX, Acura RSX Type S).
To a degree, that changed when I got into biking. I can’t remember if I’ve shared this story (the problem with being both middle-aged and having a blog where you write daily about a single topic for three years is that eventually you’re likely to repeat yourself and not remember whether you’re repeating yourself), but I actually sold my Eclipse to pay for my first serious mountain bike.
But I still love cars. It’s just that now I look for different things in cars. Which is to say, when I shop for a car, I do so asking myself, “Will this be a good car for biking?”
As of last February — yes, I’ve had this car for ten months and have been too embarrassed to talk about it until now — I have what I consider to be a cyclist’s dream car.
Here it is:
Yes, I drive a 2007 Honda Ridgeline. Also known — to me, anyway — as The BikeMobile.
Beauty in Capability
I fully expect at least half of you to be formulating your comments around the “Wow, that’s a weird-looking pseudo-truck you’ve got there.” And by all means, feel free to write them. I know it’s not the most elegant-looking vehicle in the world. I even know it’s not a very cool-looking truck.
The thing is, I gave up on looking cool a looooong time ago, and it’s hard for me to picture a more practical vehicle for a cyclist.
Let me give you a tour.
Indoor Parking
Here’s the back seat of my truck:
First off, this means I can seat five adults in my truck — four comfortably enough for weekend trips to Moab.
More importantly, though, the seat cushions flip up and out of the way in one step, giving me a wonderful place to keep my road bike secure and out of the weather:
It’s hard to tell from this picture, but I don’t have to do any bike disassembly to fit the road bike in there — it fits in easily, and in fact lives there, always ready for me to take a ride.
Oh, by the way: the floor mats are all rubber — hose ‘em off and put ‘em back in. Or — as is my practice — don’t hose them off and just figure that eventually you’ll get around to it.
A Place for My Stuff
So if I have a bike always at the ready, how about the stuff that goes with the bike — helmet, shoes, clothes, bottles, pump, drink mix, gels, Shot Blocks, lube, rags, tubes, spare CO2 cans, and tools? Yep, I’ve got a spot for that, too. Here’s the truck bed:
But that’s not where I keep my stuff. All that stuff has a permanent home down underneath the truck bed:
I admit: this trunk-under-the-truckbed thing is what sold me on the Ridgeline. I can — and do — keep all my biking junk in there, where it’s always ready and its magnificent greasy stinkiness doesn’t interfere with the sublime audio experience my passengers can expect from my premium sound system.
Too bad my iPod mostly has 80s music.
Fork Mount
And now we come to the DIY part of my truck. Yes, I actually got all brave and installed a couple of locking fork mounts right into the front of the truck bed. You can see them a couple pictures up, but here’s a closeup of one of them:
I took the front bed plate out, drilled holes, reinforced the back with metal plates, and then sealed it all with silicone caulking.
To my delight, these fork mounts are as solid as rocks. I can’t even describe how proud I am of how this turned out. Here’s how the whole setup looks when I’ve got a couple mountain bikes in place:
Road bike in the back seat, two mountain bikes in truck bed, and — as an absentminded middle-aged man, I cannot overemphasize how important this is — I can pull the whole thing into the garage without first removing the bikes from a roof rack. (Those of you who have heard the sickening crunch of a bike on a roof rack colliding with a garage entrance — destroying the bikes, the garage’s fascia, the garage door itself, and the car’s roof in one misery-filled moment — will know what I mean.)
As I said: Dream car.
Other Stuff
In addition to the bikes in the truck bed and back seat area, I can easily put a bike rack in the 2″ receiver hitch, letting me comfortably haul four mountain bikes, their riders, and all their gear. Or if I want to get nuts about it, I can put two more bikes on the roof rack, making it easily possible for me to carry seven bikes at a time.
Also, there are around 70 cupholders.
I Am Not A Car Salesman
Effusive Ridgeline gushing notwithstanding, I’m not really trying to get you to buy a truck just like mine. I know for a fact that Kenny loves his Toyota FJ Cruiser as much as I love my Ridgeline — and in fact, his FJ Cruiser is in some ways a better BikeMobile than my Ridgeline is (The FJ Cruiser is a wonder when off road; the Ridgeline is only so-so).
In fact, I expect a lot of us cyclist types have bought our cars with bike transport considerations as primary criteria. I’m very interested in how others of you have set up your own personal BikeMobiles. What do you drive? How do you carry bikes? What do you keep in the car?
Oh, and MinusCar, and SansAuto: again, I’m really, really sorry.
Comments (143)
12.18.2007 | 12:06 pm
A Note from Fatty: I’ve got a story up on BikeRadar today. You can read a preview below, or click here to read the whole thing.
An important part of being a cyclist is knowing how to identify common mechanical troubles and knowing how they can be repaired, as well as how to give accurate information to bike mechanics, on the rare occasion you find one necessary. Take this handy quiz to help you identify how much you know about diagnosing and repairing common bike problems.
1. You hear a creak coming from somewhere in your bike. What should you do?
a. Immediately stop and call your bike mechanic. The bike is seriously damaged; any further riding will almost certainly cost thousands of dollars to repair.
b. Lubricate all moving parts with whatever chain lube is handy. You are bound to get the correct one eventually, right?
c. Ignore it. The squeaking is caused by friction, so it stands to reason that eventually that the two things that are rubbing against each other and making that infernal racket will eventually wear each other down, and the sound will go away, or at least subside.
d. Turn up your iPod. Hey, the sound went away!
2. Whichever thing you did in question 1 didn’t work. What do you do next?
a. Fix the bike yourself. You have tools and a bikestand, so you must be a mechanic.
b. Quickly admit defeat and meekly take your bike into the shop.
Click here to continue reading “Test Your Bike Repair IQ” at BikeRadar.com
PS: The cartoon that goes with it is especially awesome this time, but you’ve got to read the caption. Click here to see the cartoon.
Comments (22)
12.17.2007 | 1:44 pm
A Note from Fatty: I have a few items of business to bring up before I get to the main topic of today’s post.
I Am Tardy
To those of you I owe t-shirts and socks to, from contests reaching all the way back into October — I’m sorry, but I’ve decided to not send them to you.
Just kidding.
Actually, I finally sent them today. Yes, even the one to Australia. Thank you all for your patience with my procrastinating self.
Return of the Biker Babes
Susan got an awesome card in the mail Saturday from my sister Kellene and all her riding friends, the self-named “Biker Babes.” Check this out (click photo for larger version):
I admit to being slightly disappointed that Kellene didn’t persuade them all to do a jumping version of this photo. Mostly, though, I’m just really touched by this incredible show of support for my wife — a solidarity a huge number of people have shown.
Drink Up
Several of you have asked what the new Fat Cyclist bottles look like. They look like this:
What a dramatic shot!
It took me nine hours to get them stacked like that. Time well spent, if you ask me.
Now I need to figure out a good way to give some of these away. Anyone got a good idea for a contest?
Obstinate
OK, now on to the main subject of today’s post: how Susan’s doing.
Recovering from six months of chemotherapy is not easy. Recovering from a hip replacement is not easy. Getting a hip replacement literally one week after six months of chemotherapy is ridiculous, frankly.
But Susan’s handling it really well. She gets around well on her crutches, and — briefly — walked a little using just a cane today. She no longer rides the stairlift; she prefers going up and down the stairs using her crutches (anyone wanna buy a barely-used stairlift?).
The nicest thing about all this, though, is that Susan has — for the first time since the cancer recurred — a whole month without a single doctor appointment.
That said, there’s a lot of frustration for her. The first sentence Susan ever spoke was, “I can do it myself,” so as you might expect, Susan hates having to ask me for help on stuff you don’t even think about: putting on pants, putting on socks and shoes. It doesn’t bother me at all to help with things like that, but it drives Susan nuts to have to ask.
It’s not easy for her to get comfortable. Ask yourself: “If I had a clear-to-the-bone 16″-long incision on my left buttcheek, would I be able to sit in a chair?”
Hint: the answer is, “No.”
So Susan doesn’t get around much right now. And, unfortunately, she wouldn’t let me post a picture of the incision or rather extraordinary bruise she’s got. Pfff.
Comments (40)
12.14.2007 | 11:02 am
I’m trying something new this Christmas: I’m not going to work. Today’s the last day, in fact, that I’m working this year. And then I’m going to hang out with my family for two solid weeks.
I’m also going to do some snowshoeing. I’ll post when, and anyone local is welcome to join in. I’ll bake some Matisse & Jacks energy bars for the occasion, even.
Anyway, since this is my last day of work for the year, I can’t exactly afford to use my lunch hour for writing, like usual. Instead, I’d like to call your attention to a few cycling-related blogs I really like, some of which you may not have heard of.
Up in Alaska
I admit, I fantasize about the life Jill Homer leads. She’s a journalist, living in Alaska. She fears nothing, evidently. And she’s an excellent photographer.
As of late, though, I have grown to fear Jill, for she is doing what I would never dare do: racing the Iditarod. See, I’ve flirted with the idea — I like the notion of a monster, multi-day ride in the wilderness — but any time I actually go do a snow ride, I realize an important truth: I am a fair-weather cyclist. And as such, I have no business even thinking about something like the Iditarod.
Jill, on the other hand, seems really excited about the idea of self-sufficiently riding/pushing her Pugsley for multiple days across the Alaskan wilderness.
That’s not merely interesting, that’s freakin’ compelling.
The thing is, Jill’s not crazily rich, and this race is expensive. So if you have a few bucks, I recommend that when you go to Up In Alaska, you click the “Make a Donation” link to help Jill defray some of her race costs.
Bob’s Web Log
Bob (a member of the core team) is what you might call a Serial Blogger. For a while he wrote a blog as if he were President Bush’s (the current one, not the first one) gardener (sadly, I cannot find the URL right now). Then he wrote Bob’s Top 5. He was a contributor in the ill-fated Random Reviewer project. And now he writes Bob’s Web Log, which is sometimes about biking, and sometimes not.
Bob and I both like writing absurd, self-aware comedy. The key difference between us (apart from our hair — he has lots of red hair, I have no hair whatsoever) is that he can write in other ways, too.
That said, my blog is much more popular than Bob’s blog.
Brad Keyes
Brad Keyes (a member of the core team) is an incredibly interesting guy. He’s recently bought a bunch of land on Gooseberry Mesa, and he’s going to build and rent yurts out there soon. It’ll be the most awesome cycling destination in the world, and Brad promises me he’ll let me give away some free visits there, maybe even guided by him. I guarantee this will be the most awesome giveaway ever.
Brad has also developed his own energy drink for cyclists. It is the best energy drink I have ever used. Soon he’s going to start selling it, and I think you might want to try it.
Brad makes his own beer. Everyone tells me it’s great. He’s just a full-on I’ll-try-anything kind of guy.
And now Brad’s got a blog. I would never have guessed that Brad would be a good writer, but it turns out he is. (Except those weird pop-out ad links he’s got all over the place are incredibly annoying.)
Rick Sunderlage (Not His Real Name)
Rick (a member of the core team) is the person I most want to stay ahead of in any given race. He is also the only member of DNA Cycling who still talks to me, since I trashed their ugly jerseys on my blog.
Right now, if Rick and I were to race in a velodrome, he could lap me by the third lap.
Unholy Roleur
I’ve never met Jim — the Unholy Roleur — in person, and for that I’m grateful, because I get the sense that he could (and probably would) crush me like a bug. He’s got this crazy, stream-of-cycling consciousness thing going on that cracks me up.
So Very Alone
OK, so this one doesn’t have anything to do with bikes. But I can’t help reading poor Harlan’s blog. I think if he rode a bike, his life might improve immeasurably.
Comments (36)
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