The Numbers Game

About five years ago, I parted ways with the land-line phone company and went to a completely cellular communication network. One of the advantages to having the cell phone is that it comes with caller ID, assuming I have the person’s number in my phone. What that also means is that I don’t need people to call me and leave a message on my voicemail saying, “Hi. It’s mom. Call me back.” I clearly saw that there was a call from my mother and would call back without the need for the message. Most of my friends know not to leave a message since, as in the aforementioned example, I would inevitably call the person back.

So this past weekend, after a few hours of splitting firewood to get ready for the impending winter, I noticed a message on my phone from a number I did not recognize. There was also a voicemail so I decided to take a listen. It was a prerecorded message that I considered deleting right away but when they said it was my bank, I thought I better continue to listen. The mechanical voice said that there were some odd charges on my credit card and they wanted to verify if they were mine. Since I was just traveling last weekend I assumed it was no big deal and would clear everything up with a simple phone call to an actual person.

I called the number that was identified in the voicemail and, after a few automated menus, began to talk with a Kris. Kris wanted to check on a few “suspicious” charges that appeared on my card. I didn’t think anything of it but when she told me that there were two charges totaling approximately $600 dollars at a store in Maine earlier that day, I realized that someone stole my credit card number.

I’m not sure how or when it happened but after a few more minutes and providing some additional information, Kris said my account would be shut down and a new card would be sent to me right away. Fortunately for me, no more charges have appeared and all the other account activity seemed to be in order. This was one time I didn’t mind having a message on my voicemail.

Bike-ation

As I mentioned in my last post, this weekend was spent road tripping and riding bikes. Wormy Worm, J-WAG, my self, and the Seb Rocket caravanned down to the Shenandoah Valley Bike Coalition’s annual mountain bike festival. I’ve been down to the area to help out with bike races but had never ridden there. This was going to be a much deserved and full-scale suffer-fest of epic proportions. I just wasn’t aware of how much suffering would occur.

We all took off work on Friday for the trip and, after a brief stop in Harrisonburg for some supplies and to visit some bike shops; we rolled into the Stokesville campground at about three o’clock in the afternoon. This left just enough time to get geared up and head off to the downhill race. It was a short bike ride and a mild (by Shenandoah standards) singletrack climb to the start of the race and then about five minutes to bomb down some fast and swoopy singletrack. I wasn’t trying to compete in this race but I did want to recon the trails. This would be my first taste of what to expect. It was challenging, but I attributed my lack of skills to the fact that I’ve been off the bike for a while and needed to get my bearings back.

Saturday started early as we had a big day planned. Since Dr. Worm lived in the area for a while he knew the trails and would act as our guide. The three of us started out with a larger group and I quickly realized how my day was going to end up. My account of the ride goes something like this:

Step One - ride (or attempt to ride) straight up a mountain for about two and a half hours while getting punched in the face by steep section after steep section.

Step Two - spend about ten minutes riding an amazingly flowy and smooth ribbon of singletrack down the backside of the mountain you just rode up.

Step Three – slum back to the campground and cool off in the river before relaxing and enjoying the sunshine and amazing fall weather.

Sunday began with some sore legs and slow movements but we broke camp early and began heading back north. We stopped off to ride some trails near the local ski resort that Jerome had worked on. This ride was similar to the previous day except it wasn’t as big and I was almost completely crushed by the time it ended. Fortunately this was only about two hours which was about all I could handle.

All in all, it was a great weekend with great people and amazing trails that humbled me as a mountain bike rider. It will definitely be something I put on my calendar for future years as it’s a really chill event. The only downside was taking a digger in the mud to end my Sunday ride and provide a little extra clean-up of myself, my gear, and my bike.

Memories

Once upon a time, I had a life that involved hanging out with friends, going on bike rides, road-tripping, and other pursuits that kept me feeling young and made for great stories. I would fill my weekends with activities that would test my physical and mental limits. I would secretly look forward to Monday and going to the office so I could rest up and begin anticipating the next weekend’s events.

Now, my time is still filled with activity but it seems to only focus on my house. I’ve taken on an ambitious schedule of tasks this summer that kept me from enjoying the bike rides and road-trips and other radical endeavors. I work on most of these projects solo and exhaust myself in other ways; and not necessarily the good kind.

When I first started this blog it was intended to be all about the amazing adventures I went on and the activities that tested my skills. Lately though, it seems to be about home improvements (or at least my escapades into home improvements). I think it’s time to get back to my roots and start being adventurous again.

Fortunately, I’ll get my first chance this coming weekend as I venture south to Stokesville and partake in a mountain bike festival. Even though the festival only lasts the weekend, it will be a much needed trip to relax and ride bikes. Hopefully this weekend will get me back on track to escapades that don’t involve going to the home stores.

Making a Point

So in my last post I mentioned that I was taking on the task of repointing my house. While I’ve done limited masonry projects in my day, I assumed this would be an easy enough task to do myself, just a bit time consuming. While I was correct on both of those issues, the degree to which I underestimated how difficult this would be is kind of ridiculous.

The process to clear the old mortar was easy enough. Take a hammer and chisel, then smack old mortar until you think you’ve gotten enough of the loose stuff out of the way. It takes a little while but it’s a fairly simple task. What I found to be the hard part was getting the new mortar back in.

What I realized very quickly was that trowels, mortar bags, or any other tool that might be used for this job were quickly proven to be useless. In order to get the mortar to stand up properly the mix had to be relatively dry. This meant that the only tools I could use to apply the new stuff were my hands. While this wouldn’t normally be a problem, the fact that it was mortar made it painful. Of course I didn’t realize this until late in the game.

Basically, I was running my hands through wet sandpaper for the entire day. When I noticed the pain setting in I, decided to apply tape to the trouble spots and keep going (because putting on gloves would make too much sense). By the end of the day my fingertips were worn raw, my hands were incredibly dry, and my hands were covered in tape. I guess there is a reason the people that do this for a living charge so much money. Their glove budget alone must be astronomical.

Skillz

As the fall starts to slowly settle into the valley, I’m slowly wrapping up the remaining outdoor projects at my house for this year. It’s been a long summer that was spent doing a tremendous amount of outdoor work and teaching myself a few things about home improvements. While I don’t know if I’ll ever use these new found talents, at least I can say that I have them in my quiver should the need arise in the future.

The latest skill I’m “teaching” myself is how to re-point masonry (yes mom, that does say re-point – it’s not a typo). See, the exterior of my house is stone and, due to a particular problem I encountered this summer with bees, I decided to move the re-pointing up on the list of projects. I have limited knowledge of masonry but I figure at five to seven dollars a square foot for someone else to do it, I decided that learning a method (not necessarily the preferred method) could save me a few clams to use on other projects.

I started to remove the old masonry yesterday and, after about an hour of sucking in fifty-year-old dust, I realized I don’t like this project. There is a reason I don’t do this kind of work for a living (other than not wanting to rough up my dainty hands) and it is emphasized with each stroke of the chisel. I’ve already reduced my expectations for how much of this project I intend to complete this year. Luckily I don’t need to re-point the entire house right away because the chances of that happening are similar to those of me becoming a professional mason.

Training

As the summer starts to wind down much sooner than I would like, the seasonal change has me thinking about one of my favorite activities – fall mountain biking. I’ve been spending so much time working on my house and yard this summer that I’ve barely had time to ride. More specifically, it hasn’t been a priority and, as I look back, seems like a bit of a mistake.

Since I didn’t ride very much over the summer, I’m dreadfully behind on my training for one of the biggest events on my ride calendar; the world famous Dirty Dozen. The Dirty Dozen is just a few short months away and I’m feeling woefully unprepared to tackle the insanely steep pitches that pass for streets in and around Pittsburgh. Last year was my first experience with the DD and I’m cautiously looking forward to this year’s installment. Of course that means I’ll be spending Thanksgiving in the ‘burgh again and riding a lot throughout that weekend.

Right now however, I’m hoping for a break in the rain so I can actually get on a bike and start riding up hills, along trails, and doing all that I can to hopefully ensure I survive. I guess I should also start preparing myself for the late nights (that often turn into early mornings) trying to keep up with Jerry. He’s already started his training too by going to Las Vegas to see how many hours in a row he can stay awake. I think the DD will be the least painful part of this year’s trip.

Snacks

As I’ve mentioned numerous times in this little blog of mine, I’ve been spending a lot of time working on my house. Also, as I may have mentioned in this same blog I’ve been working a lot lately too. While these two facts might not be very significant, they have a notable connection that leads into the title of this post.

One other subject I’ve noted in this here internet rag is the fact that I’m a super awesome single dude living in a swinging town. To the casual observer that might seem like a good thing, however I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not as amazing as it might sound. What I’m finding out (the hard way) is that when you are single and own a home you get to do everything by yourself. When I say everything I mean exactly that; paying the bills, cleaning the house, maintaining the yard, doing improvements, and making dinner.

While I’d like to think I’m significantly competent in all of the above noted areas, lately I find that the making dinner part has been the one area of my single lifestyle that seems to be suffering. I really enjoy cooking but lately it seems as though I neglect that aspect until the end of the day and, instead of making some delicious meal, I tend to rely on snacks to get my sustenance. It’s not uncommon for me to get home from work, mow the yard, tend to some landscaping, and have a roundly nutritious meal of chips and salsa for dinner. Similarly, if I get home from work late after a night meeting I might grab a handful of almonds and a few pieces of cheese and call that my evening’s feast.

I’ve recently started to realize that without snacks I might not ever eat. While I fully admit that snacking isn’t the most healthy choice for my (lately un) active lifestyle, it gets me by. I have a handful of this, and a bowl full of that and by the end of the night I’m properly supplied by premade or otherwise concocted foods. Of course, there is the occasional peanut butter and jelly in the mix so I guess it isn’t all bad.