Thanksgiving, for me, is generally a time to visit the loved ones in my family who have large televisions and watch hours and hours of the Gilmore Girls, alone, while they cook and do the dishes. And to look at them warmly as I think to myself “Yes, I would like some more boxed wine, thank you.” I’m not...

Whenever people used to ask me why I knew some random fact, my favorite response was, “I read it on a blog.” This joke was funny because the idea of me reading a blog was preposterous. Why would I want to read someone’s internet ranting? I barely read my email. But then this blog (actually I call it a “website”, ...

I’m writing about burritos because as I sit here, eating a traditional Thanksgiving dinner of pepperoni pizza Hot Pockets and repeated shots of Pancho Villa tequila, I can’t stop thinking about the Pilgrims, and how beautiful those first burritos must have tasted to them in 1492. Things were harder back then, of...

Each cyclocross race this season has played to different abilities of its racers. Rainier was for climbers, Wilsonville for mountain bikers, PIR for costume wearers, Hillsboro for shit eaters, and so on. Continuing this trend, Kruger’s Crossing seemed to be tailor made for those able to ride over a pile of rotting pumpkins....

I decided to celebrate Americas economic decline, which continues to be the only thing outperforming analyst expectations, by calling in sick and going for a bike ride. From North Portland to Wilsonville, then back up through Lake Oswego. It was a tour of Portland’s income distribution, showing us what Portland looked...

Portland has gone waffle crazy, and I attribute it all to bike racing. You get one of those crazy race junkies talking about Belgium, and their eyes go all wonky and they start blathering about Walloon and the Phlegms and Sven Nys and the War Crimes Tribunal. And waffles, always waffles. Well you know what, excitable race guy?...

I’m no Howard Hughes. I don’t believe in any sort of x-second rule for food that has fallen on the floor, and I’d never kick a Hepburn sister out of bed for drinking from the carton. Okay, maybe Kate. But not the hot one. Also, I cut my fingernails and I’m not batshit crazy. The point here is that...

While there were many memorable events this weekend, the highlight for me was forcing an Olympic cyclist to eat two very large VooDoo doughnuts to qualify for Sunday’s race. Sure, I’ve killed celebrities before. Like the time in high school when I sold Hoyt Axton three pounds of fudge just weeks before he died of a...

Here are some facts*: 90% of Portlanders are cyclists. 87% of Portland cyclists race cyclocross. 99% of cyclocross racers planned to try to qualify for the SSCXWC the same day that Spand and Deliver II had been scheduled. So the big question was, would anyone show up to our race? Here is a table much like the ones that I am...

I’d like to continue the sosovelo tradition of what we will call “presumptuous product reviews”, building a healthy catalog of products that we’ve chosen to love before we’ve bothered to try them, in a transparent and feeble attempt to get samples of the product for free. Once we’ve built up...

A more respectable bike blog would pick a brand of tire, then a particular model from that brand, and they’d go ride it around and talk about its “handling” and its “grip” and the “pattern “of its “knobs”. But I don’t know what any of those words mean, because...