Quickies

I recently put together a Bianchi Cross Concept for a friend of mine. I found him the frame (and parts), supplied him with some leftovers rattling around my house, and put the bike together for him. He's very happy with it.



On a completely different note:

Ever since I heard the story about how he crashed through the ice into a frozen lake in a cross race, and still came back to win, Steve Tilford's been one of my heroes. There's a pretty detailed profile of him in his local paper.

When the race starts, he bolts to an immediate lead. The winding course has been kneaded by the cyclists racing earlier in the day. The mud is the consistency of Silly Putty. Tilford exhales hard through pursed lips. At the back end of the course, he dismounts his bike, braces it against the side of his biceps and explodes up earthen steps made jagged from the cleats of previous racers. A crowd has gathered at the top for a view of the straining athletes.

"Seventeen!" Rebsamen shouts at Tilford, leaning from the sideline, letting him know how many seconds he's got on his closest competitor. "Seventeen! You're OK!"

"Aw, c'mon, he could deliver newspapers right now," a man at the top of the hill responds. "It's over."

The spectator is right. After three laps, Tilford has no competition. His lead grows to 23 seconds, then 25. "Steve Tilford giving a quick look back," the announcer says as Tilford turns into the final stretch. "He knows he has it. He's going to sit up and enjoy this one."

He's had a fascinating journey to get where he is, and the whole article's worth reading.