Because The Project Manager Is Not Here

I find other things to occupy myself with during some of my free time.

Like plotting elevations.

Genting Sempah from HOA. 15 km. 550 m elevation gain.

Fraser Gap from Tranum. 20 km. 700 m elevation gain.

Genting from Batang Kali. 24 km. 1600 m elevation gain.

Finally

The ghost of Fraser-Gohtong past has been buried. Almost a year and a half from when I cramped so badly that I couldn't bend my legs, I made it up to Gohtong on the back of the Fraser loop. Climbing a 13 km 9% average gradient after already clocking 180 km in the legs is no mean feat. To those who made it up on Saturday, well done to you

Apparently there's plans for an even more "super" ride when I caome back for good. All the way to the top of Genting. For this one, if it ever happens, I'm fitting a compact crank on my bike. Pussy crank or otherwise, I don't care. We'll see who laughs last when all you can do is turn over a 34 x 26, when all you have is a 39 x 25

On the other hand, 12 more days. It's so close I can just about taste it in the air...

Gila Babi Circuit

It's been awhile, hasn't it?

There's nothing much to write about. I'm still in Jakarta. Counting down the days until I'm back in KL for good. Which is 14 days to be exact.

Did the Interstate ride the Labour Day weekend, which is not a public holiday in Indonesia, if you didn't already know. The best part of the 3 day ride was the twisty up and down small rubber estate road that we took on the 2nd day. Really felt like riding one of those one-day classics in Belgium/Holland, with the narrow roads and the ever undulating nature of the road. Was pretty disappointed that the section had to end.

Have been really busy at work, in a project engineer support role for the project manager. It's all helter skelter now. Partly it's the nature of the project. Lots of interfaces with other sub-contractors and missing data and such. Part of it is the clients demanding nature. It's developing to be a bit of a cockfight at the moment. Thank god it';; all be over soon. For me at least, anyway.

Less than 24 hours to GilaBabi circuit ride. Can't wait!!!

The Epitome of Sloth

Not having your bike with you is a lot like breaking up. You feel depressed coz you can't, you don't feel like doing anything or leaving the house, you mope around, eat junk food, watch copious amount of TV and hardly ever leave the couch except to pee. Or to get food out of the fridge.

The things I did this weekend:

5 episodes of Chuck.

5 episodes of Life.

Monsters vs. Aliens.

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist.

The Watchmen.

The International.

The 1st season of The Big Bang Theory (again).

Formula 1 qualifying and race.

And the one thing I wanted to watch the most, Liege-Bastogne-Liege I couldn't watch coz they don't have Eurosport here.

I don't understand what to do with the time on my hand when I can't go for a ride. What do people actually do on weekends with all that time?

The Story of Jens Voight

Because this one deserves a post on it's own

Jens Voigt doesn’t read books. He simply attacks until the books relent and tell him everything he wants to know.

Waldo can’t be found because Jens dropped him on a hill training ride… on K2.

Jens doesn’t spin or mash the pedals… he kicks them into submission.

Jens Voigt puts the “laughter” in “Manslaughter.”

Jens Voigt climbs so well for a big guy because he doesn’t actually climb hills; the hills slink into the earth in fear as they see him approach.

If you are a UCI ProTour rider and you Google “Jens Voigt,” the only result you get is “it’s not to late to take up Football, Fred.”

Jens was a math prodigy in elementary school, putting “Attack!” in every blank space on all his tests. It would be the wrong answer for everybody else, but Jens is able to solve any problem by attacking.

Jens’ testicles are bald because hair does not grow on a mixture of titanium, brass, steel, and cold, hard granite.

Eddy Merckx was actually a neo-pro at the same time as Jens, but Jens dropped him so hard that he shot backwards in time to the 1960’s, where he became a great champion.

Jens once had a heart attack on the Tourmalet. Jens counterattacked repeatedly until he kicked its ass.

Jack was nimble, Jack was quick… and Jens still drove him to quit racing bikes and become an ice dancing commentator on Lifetime.

If Jens Voigt was a country, his principle exports would be Pain, Suffering, and Agony.

If Jens Voigt was a planet, he’d be the World of Hurt.

Jens Voigt doesn’t know where you live, but he knows exactly where you will die.

Jens Voigt doesn’t have a shadow because he dropped it repeatedly until it retired, climbing into the CSC team car and claiming a stomach ailment.

Jens Voigt once challenged Lance Armstrong to a “who has more testicles” contest. Jens won… by five.

When you open a can of whoop-ass, Jens Voigt jumps out and attacks.

You are what you eat. Jens Voigt eats spring steel for breakfast, fire for lunch, and a mixture of titanium and carbon fiber for dinner. For between-meal snacks he eats men’s souls, and downs it with a tall cool glass of The Milk of Human Suffering.

Jens Voigt believes it’s not butter.

Jens Voigt can eat just one.

The first time man split the atom was when the atom tried to hold Jens Voigt’s wheel, but cracked.

Jens Voigt doesn’t complain about what suffering does to him… but suffering constantly complains about getting picked on by Jens Voigt.

Jens Voigt can start a fire by rubbing two mud puddles together.

Guns kill a couple dozen people every day. Jens Voigt kills 150.

Jens’s tears are so tough they could be the world heavyweight mixed-martial arts champion. Too bad Jens never cries.

Jens Voigt rides so fast during attacks, that he could circle the globe, hold his own wheel, and ride in his own draft. At least as long as he didn’t try to drop himself.

Jens Voigt nullified the periodic table because he doesn’t believe in any element, other than the element of surprise.

The grass is always greener on the other side. Unless Jens Voigt has been riding on the other side in which case it’s white with the salty, dried tears of all the riders whose souls he has crushed.