"You should work three days a week and ride more."

That was the wise advice given to me by former VeloNews intern-turned-writer Robbie Stout, two days ago.

And, damn it, that's what I did today. I went for a two and a half hour lunch ride today.

It felt great. It was a beautiful day. I first went out for an hour with the advertising staff and then for another hour and a half on my own up Flagstaff Road.

Flagstaff takes you up - as far as I went - about 1200 feet above Boulder. It is still odd to me to see, what seems like, the whole world stretching out in front of you as you climb into the Rockies.

Going back to the East Coast after spending time on the front range is a trip.

Out here, you can see for miles and miles, even on cloudy day, which are few and far between.

However, back east, everything has a pulse. There is trash in alleys and deciduous trees. Not in Colorado; it's wide open and still brown.

It's amazing to see two totally different worlds that are on the same continent.

Today was pretty sweet, and complimented nicely by sunburnt stripes at the top of my tricep, where there was a gap between my arm warmers and my jersey sleeve.

An untimely report from Colorado.

It's been a bit over a week since I rolled into Boulder.

The drive was fairly miserable, and it went a little something like this;

Day 1 = 3:00 p.m. -- 10:00 p.m.

= nap at New York ThruWay rest stop

= 12:00 a.m. -- 2:00 a.m.

= nap at New York ThruWay rest stop; 14 degrees outside when I woke up.

Day 2 = 5:00 a.m. -- 7:30 p.m.

= maybe two 1-hour naps in Ohio

Day 3 = 8:00 a.m. -- 9:00 a.m.

= breakfast at Grandma's Kitchen on I-80 near Davenport, Illinios

= 10:00 a.m. -- 11:30 p.m.

= rolled into Bolder shortly before midnight.

Never drive across the country. It's so boring.

If anyone every says that you should drive across the country, tell them you'll book a flight instead. And that they can pick you up at the airport after they do the drive alone.

Trust me.

However, Boulder is cool.

I think it's too early to give an official or formal critique, so I'll keep my fool mouth shut for now.

The last two Tuesdays have seen the VeloNews staff go to the Boulder Indoor Cycling Center during lunch time. Riding track, while a bit boring while you're going slow, becomes quite fun at higher speeds.

Roger Dogder. Over and out.

Throne of Malevolence

Throne of Malevolence.

See you in Hell.

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!

The artist's favorite.

Count down to Colorado.

In case you haven't heard, I am going to do my journalism internship at Velonews in Boulder, Colorado, next semester.

I have a host of worries and low-grade anxieties about this, but overwhelmingly, I am excited about it and the progress I have made in the last couple of years.

Patting myself on the back has never been what this blog has been about, or something that I have ever been good at.

So.... We'll cut to the chase.

When my mom and I were driving to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving, we came up with a pretty rockin' idea.

I want to make signs to hold up to other drivers to amuse both me and them.

I think the signs have to be fairly PG rated. I can't make any truly foul or tasteless signs, although I would love to do that, I can't guarantee that other people will either think it's funny or not run me off the road.

I was thinking about the following:

- I am so bored.

- What's good, shorty!?

- Heee-eeey!

- Any good Mexican places around here?

- Where ya headed?

- Got a map?

- My mommy doesn't know where I am.

- Would you like a Mentos?

I would love to hear your suggestions.

But please remember...... PG rated!

Somewhere there is a college bar filled with...

Somewhere there is a college bar filled with handsome young men.

But, that bar certainly isn't on the UNH campus.

After a Saturday night out in Durham I came to the conclusion that most of the male, bar-going UNH population are a bunch of schlubs. Underdressed, backward hat wearing schlubs.

Let me explain "Schlub" to you.

If your idea of dressing up to go out includes any of the following, you are a schlub;

Boston Red Sox hat

Sports hat in general

Black North Face fleece jacket

anything camouflage print

jeans that don't cover your entire butt

if your underpants are showing

a hoodie of ANY kind, with any logo, print or otherwise

untied Timberland boots

The list could go on. But these were some of the glaring and galling examples from Saturday night.

Now, fellas, gather round, pull up a carpet square and listen intently.

You have to, at least, equal your female counterparts in the dressing department.

All the ladies put in quite a bit of effort to look lovely, well put together, and at the very least, presentable.

You, need to look better than you would if you were just going to class.

No ties or sock garters.

You need to step up your game.

Maybe tuck in your shirt and button it up to the second button from the top -- unless you have a mane of chest hair and gold chains on.

Wear jeans that fit. You are not in high school anymore.

Wear a sweater. The right sweater can compliment nicely a dark pair of straight-leg jeans.

Wear brown or black shoes -- just make sure your belt matches your shoes.

And SHAVE your face. If you don't have luxurious facial hair, you need to get rid of it. Trust me, I tried growing a fu manchu, and it was ugly. But, most importantly, it was gone quickly.

So, gents, try to stand out above your peers. There will always be enough schlubs around so that minimal effort of your part will stand out like a beacon of good and stylish taste.

Typing up the police log...

Every time I type up the police log on production nights at The New Hampshire I am supremely satisfied with myself that I have never been arrested.

Supremely satisfied.

So many dumb kids get busted on this campus for dumb stuff.

On November third, we ran a great article by one of our contributors (Miss Alexandra Churchill) about her Halloween ride-along with Officer Welman of the UNH Police Department.

About three-quarters of the way through the story, we get this lovely anecdote:

While slowly moving through the masses that block Strafford Avenue, an open beer can somersaults in the headlights of the cruiser and onto the street. Welman immediately reacts, flips on his swirling blue lights and catches the perpetrator’s stunned face in the stark headlights.

The underage thrower of the can is arrested for unlawful littering and unlawful possession of alcohol.

This kid actually got into university. How does that grab you?

Now, I won't tell you who this young knucklehead is, but if you were so inclined as to want to find who this is.... who am I to stop you.

I might point you to some local police log and the publishing date of article and the littering charge.

I am not trying to "out" or screw this idiot kid, but I just want to make the point that every Monday night when I type up the police log, I am supremely satisfied that I have never been arrested.