Thursday, August 24, 2006


Not the kind that comes in a tin. Though that reminds me of my good friend Pete.

Pete goes through about a tin of Copenhagen every day or two. Some of you met him at the F & H a while back. Pete's father is Ethiopian, his mother's from Lancaster County--Floyd Landis country. The Lancaster connection goes some way to explaining the fact that he's as redneck as they come--cowboy boots, Willie Nelson, pickup truck, and the aforementioned smokeless tobacco, even though . . . well let's just say he doesn't exactly fit the stereotype. Growing up in Lancaster can be harmful for your health, or at least your lips. Pete claims that there are all kinds of old Mennonite churches in the area with spitters for your dip.

In any case, I'm referring to Copenhagen the city--the city of cyclists. Check out this documentary on Copenhagen's efforts to accomodate cyclists, courtesy of the bike advocacy dept. Kind of makes me think Winnipeg is a lost cause, unless something miraculous happens in the civic elections this fall. But I suppose we can always dream. While we're dreaming, some of that architecture would be nice too.

My ribs are still hurting pretty good from ultimate on Monday. Makes it hard to accelerate on the bike. So it's nothing but cruising for the next little while. Hope my rickety old body is good enough to go for the ultimate champeenships on Saturday. Here's to peaking at the right time: Go Legends!

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