Q-Blog

Well, as far as adventure, this is really lacking…I work in an office filled with creative people…Every so often there is a misdirected effort in creativity. My friend Hildegardt walks in and asks why naval oranges have a ‘baby orange’ in the back…What can I say…



Before anyone can really slow the momentum, a week later we have created a monster. My other friend Martin is soon invited into orange club (which the first rule is: nobody talks about orange club)…This club is fueled by ripping off images—and google images is an unfathomable source for images in regards to orange machine, orange goods, orange people…Sending these images with a competitive fury I’ve not been a part of since… well, since the days we used to fold paper airplanes and see whose could fly the farthest.

Do I feel guilty? Not really. My justification is this: We have several people who smoke. Nobody looks at their watch when one of them goes out to the balcony and takes a smoke break for 10 minutes…So I take my smoke break on google images…

Martin also smokes…I don’t know what his excuse is.

Since I’ve been in South Africa I have yet to enter a mountain bike race (or get ready for one) and race it…This was further substantiated by the Klein Karoo Classic, a 100 km mountain bike race through a barren and beautiful part of South Africa called the Klein Karoo.

I was invited by my coworker Froneman and his family. They were also the great people who invited me to do the Cape Argus with them. It is great to attend events with his family because his wife is great at organizing all the things I don’t think about…like food and towels…Virna also works with our company as a lead administrator and accountant. So when it comes to logistics—you can count on the experts.

Unfortunately Virna could not coordinate better weather. Winter weather advisories, record amounts of rain throughout the week, and howling winds set the probability of racing to about .0005%... I showed up at the start, ready—in case the sun broke through, and mud dried up. It just didn’t happen—no matter how much I hoped. The rain had paused and it actually warmed to about 60 F and I contemplated until the rain started pouring and in dropped to 50 F…I soon found that several others shared my opinion as they just shook their heads. Froneman and I watched the start…maybe 20 riders take off into the mud filled country side…We caught up with them an hour later in town. I didn’t regret missing the event one bit.

Too bad I don’t have any pictures either.

So, I went back to our little farmhouse and sat in front of the fire and enjoyed the rugby, discovery channel, and suffered. This is in addition to the Oyster Festival 85km, and the Homtini 70km… I didn’t suffer as badly as with the previous missed races…ouch. 

I work, live, eat, sleep near this huge body of water....



The mornings are stunning, the days are great, and even on bad days, it still looks pretty good out there... 

I have come to appreciate good sunsets.








The problem is that they happen so often I can't take advantage of every one of them...





This is a collection of sunsets from the past three or so months and mostly from the same place...














I feel like I live in a calendar sometimes.

For all of those who doubted that I really was employed in South Africa. Check things out at www.cmai.co.za My business card here is still a novelty. I used them in Tucson when clients asked about my contact details…Right now I just hand them out to good lookin’ strangers… “So, you work on pools…I’m a landscape architect...”

AP Headline News: I’ve also received word that I may have an opportunity to pursue my masters degree. As with all things it sure sounds like it will be easy...justa paper I gotta rite in cuple of yiers.

It still astounds me how God has shaped my life and guided me like some brute beast…I think I’m coming to South Africa for my reasons…Nope, it was for better things.

And for more randomness….I, along with some of my good friends have decided to trace our heroes to their roots. As a first step—some motivation to find out what makes men tough like dried meat…THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY. You know what is strange? There was a time when my dad would start watching this stuff and I’d walk out of the room - now, it is the coolest movie I’ve seen in years…It makes me wonder if I’m not turning into my dad…Or maybe Clint Eastwood… 

I almost couldn't believe it myself...I come home from a run in the neighborhood and there it is...just sitting there...

My chedder cheese! How could I forget that block of cheese on top of my car!

Oh, and that moron who parked next to me has the loudest car I've ever heard.

On March 12, 2006 I was inducted into a long list of privileged individuals who get to participate in the largest organized cycle race in the world. The Cape Argus. This year they estimated over 35,000 entries. It is an organized, well oiled machine. That by the way is the most spandex bike shorts one will ever see at one time…in one’s life…

Once again, my co-worker and friend—Froneman and his wife Virna lead the way. Virna—the logistical queen found us lodging in Bloubergstrand and the weekend was set with an incredible bike expo and meals. The only threatening thing was weather—this, I found, was a typical thing for Cape Town.

Woke up on Sunday, March 12, 2006 and began the arduous mental process of accepting my fate. The weather was barely subsiding and the wind seemed like it was going to be a factor… I remember running the 400m race in high school…the inevitable start…the line…ooooh, the race. It makes you sick.

This was really no different—except there were thousands of people in the same situation. The race started and I have to admit—it was nothing like 400m. It was really 108,000 m…on a bike…

108km (67 miles) through and around Cape Town—probably one of the most beautiful rides in the world. The weather cleared, by the way, and the sun and coastal breezes made the day almost surreal. The terrain, the scenery—the best I can do is reference some pictures off the web…And, as with most things in my life…Adventure.

Adventure is almost hitting a baboon at 28kmh (17mph)—sliding to avoid it and miraculously missing it…Adventure is having a conversation about who was winning the South African cricket match after one of the hardest climbs of my life…Adventure is meeting up with a 65 year old and laughing all the way to the finish line. All this goes without the mention of excruciating pain…Fond memories are seasoned with that stuff…I can’t imagine what next year’s race will be like.



Results for: Crow, Quincy
Date:2006/03/12
Distance:108 km Race
Time:04:09:15
Position:12516/27573
Gender Position:10926/21666
Age Position:831/1713
Group Position:128/498
Avg Speed:26 km/h


I congratulate myself for being 12,516th ! Next year I’m shooting for 11,000th…

In order to get the full result (much like an alcoholic drink I assume) you must follow this recipe exactly
Ingredients:
2 Confident friends
1 Good available friend
1 Great weather Friday
1 Bike with lights
1 Unscheduled night ride
1 Forest trail—must have a tree
1 Helmet
1 Doctor with some experience in
cosmetic surgery…

Note: To get the desired effect DO NOT use any ice or pain medication—an anti-inflammatory is okay but you need to feel some pain…This process takes 24 hours.

DIRECTIONS:
Have a wonderful, incredible, stress filled Friday. It is imperative that you remember it is the last day of the working week and the first day of a great weekend. Take the two friends and the bike with the lights. A helmet is necessary for the safety.

Proceed down the trail at night with the lights, the friends, and the helmet. I met the tree halfway down—it was a good 12” thick. With a little anticipation, you can hit it quite hard—not hard enough to dislocate your shoulder (that is another recipe) but hard enough to sprain it good. The two friends are good for both support and blame…after all no one goes down a trail like that by themselves…

With the helmet cracked, your shoulder sprained, and a little frustration go directly to sleep…seven hours later-wake up.

When you wake, you will feel an incredible amount of pain. This is really the desired effect—the strained shoulder should be stiff. You need only to sit and contemplate your day for a few minutes…Some may choose to relieve themselves—contrary to belief, I just sat on the toilet lid and looked at the wall…

Stand up IMMEDIATELY. The quicker the better—you should feel an immense ‘head rush’. This is a natural process (the vegas nerve) emphasized for effect by low blood pressure. YOU WILL PASS OUT. This action will allow your head to hit whatever object you might be aligned with—in other words—if you are facing a wall, you will hit the wall, the shower door, in my case—the towel rack (as best I can figure).

It won’t take long to get the desired result. Within a few seconds you will regain consciousness and realize the blood on the floor is yours (someone has not been murdered).

Call the good available friend—In my case, it was a friend who dislocated his shoulder four weeks prior. He should immediately take you to a doctor. Any head wound will suffice but one to the face is best. If the Doctor has no cosmetic surgery experience your ugliness will last longer…Mine, fortunately knew what he was doing. He used 20+ stitches and prescribed some antibiotics…

Do not use ice. Within 24 hours you will be ugly as sin. The associated swelling and bruising will draw attention in public and personal circles. Expect good jokes—like, “oh yeah, you should see the other guy!!” and “—hey! The name is Mr. Scarface to you pal!!”









In all honesty I’ve come a long way. Even the ladies think it may have been a move in the right direction—chicks dig scars—right? The guys advise telling a better story than, “yep, I passed out in the toilet…” Either way, its just another story and after four months it is just another line on my face.

My mother is freaking out right now. I haven’t shown her pictures since before it happened…However, the doctor is pleased with the result—It is amazing how quick your face heals—more evidence of the genius in creation. Within three days the surface stitches (15 hair-thin) were removed and my skin was sealed…

For the first time ever I was challenged with something I never imagined I could do. I arrived in South Africa and had conversations with my colleague about this ‘road cycling’…woo, woo…another 45 kilometers this weekend, “where did you guys cycle to?”, I’d ask… “Cape Town and back?...”

I never really thought that a day would come when I would actually commit to cycling 105 kilometers (65 miles) in a race. A race meaning other people, a start, a finish and expectation—

This all came with a big bonus. My friend Froneman offered me all the parts off his bike. With a new frame I was ready to race. The only complication being the organization of all this was one day prior to the race.

I picked up the bike on Friday evening, rode it and punctured the tire on Saturday morning (after 10 km=6 miles). We left for Port Elizabeth on Saturday afternoon.

Sunday morning I sat upon my brand new bike with 105 kilometers of road ahead of me.

I was impressed. I finished. I finished strong. I liked it! My official time:

Event date: 2006/02/05
Event Name: VW Herald Cycle Tour
Distance: 105
Race Time: 03:38:09
Position: 768/1262
Gender Position: 684/1075Age Position: 87/113

I have to admit, a quarter into the whole thing I thought I wanted to quit. There was also that part when I just didn’t want to ride hard…Oh, and the other time when I felt terrible…Something about all of that makes me really like it…I’m sure it was the sea views, the stunning atmosphere and the thrill of accomplishing something like 105 kilometers…