People just want to help

October 31, 2016 § 23 Comments

It turns out that even though most Palos Verdes Estates residents have no idea why we’re protesting, why we’re attending council meetings, and why we’re up in arms, other people understand exactly what’s going on.

For the record, dear PVE folks:

  1. We want five (5– that’s an integer after “4”) Bikes May Use Full Lanes signs installed per the recommendations of your traffic safety committee, traffic engineer, outside consultant, and city attorney.
  2. We want sharrows.
  3. We want enforcement of the 3-foot passing law with the same vigor you enforce stop sign violations.

Pretty simple stuff if you can read, and frankly, pretty simple stuff even if letters and words are not your forte.

Anyway, after the first climb on the Donut Ride this past Saturday, some dude was waiting at the top of Crest with actual donuts and cash. He is one of those guys who knows how to read words and stuff, and he came out in support.

But then, the double wow, as if donuts weren’t enough: $100 cash donation, which we’ll spend on pizza this coming November 8th, when we attend yet another city council meeting to help convince the PVE elected officials that they made a mistake when they voted down the signage two meetings ago.

Thanks for the support, Donuts and Cash Dude!



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October 30, 2016 § 19 Comments

There are a lot of great nutritional supplements to help you not feel 100% awful when you’re feeling 100% awful, stuck out there on your bicycle a long way from home and tired. One of the products that I like a lot is made by BonkBreaker. It is a compacted brown thing called Peanut Butter & Jelly. If you look at the ingredients, it is made of peanuts and jelly and a couple other things which are healthy-ish.

I wondered how come I like this snack so much. Then I got to talking to my friend Greg Leibert, whose last name everyone mispronounces, about it. Greg works for BonkBreaker. “Every day I went to school my mom made me a PB&J sandwich,” he said.

“Me, too,” I said.

“Until I was eighteen.”

“I think my mom might have stopped before that.”

“And after I grew up I kept on liking PB&J.”

“Me, too.”

“Best food ever.”


“Now, I do hate eggs and fish,” he said.

“Then let’s not make an egg ‘n fish BonkBreaker,” I said.

“Right,” he said, wincing.

“You ever notice how hard it is to make a PB&J sandwich like your mom used to make?” I said.

“Impossible,” he said. “Can’t be done.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

“Simple,” he said. “Self-made PB&J sandwiches are processed different from how your mom’s sandwich was processed.”



“They use more chemicals now or something?”

“Nope. It’s the post-sandwich-making-processing.”

“What’s that?”

“Remember when you were a little kid and you got to school early to play out on the slab with your buddies?”


“What’s the first thing you did?”

“Threw down my crap and ran like hell to join the game.”

“Exactly. And what was it you threw down?”



“Of course.”

“Brown paper sandwich bag?”

“Of course.”

“Well, that was post-processing step number one: Throw down bag with sandwich onto asphalt.”


“Sure. And then for the next couple of hours until lunch which they always had at 10:30 for who knows why, I mean, who eats lunch at 10:30, that bag got jostled and stuffed into your desk, and pulled out, and dropped on the lunch table, and maybe there was an apple or an orange in there too, jostling around on top of the sandwich like crazy. Right?”


“So you’re sitting there at lunch, you pull out your sandwich, it’s in a little sandwich baggie, and what do you see?”

“I never saw a sandwich in a sandwich baggie when I was a kid.”

“Come to think of it, neither did I.”

“Wax paper. They hadn’t invented baggies then.”

“You’re right. And never tinfoil, either.”

“Too expensive.”

“Yup. So what did you see inside that wax paper?”

“A sandwich?”

“Of course, but remember what it was like? Smushed into a pancake. Jelly oozing out the edges. All the PB dried up because the oil had been absorbed by the soggy bread.”

“Kind of a mush sandwich.”


We reflected for a minute, both of us getting real hungry. “So the problem with homemade PB&J is that we don’t mush them down?” I asked.

“Kind of but not really. If you smush it with one big grunch on the kitchen counter it just turns to goo. But a proper Kid PB&J gets about 23.89 compactions between home and 10:30 AM. Each one of those mini-squishes gradually flattens it. The sandwich does its thing, as it gets gently mashed a little more each time. By 10:30 lunchtime it’s a perfect sandwich. Can’t do that in five minutes at the kitchen counter.”

He handed me a PB&J BonkBreaker. It was mashed, all right. I bit into it. Memories came flooding back.



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Where have they all gone?

October 28, 2016 § 24 Comments

My friend Sue came into town a few weeks ago. She raced pro on the women’s Raleigh team from ’85 until ’88 or so. We pedaled around the peninsula and reminisced.

Mostly we wondered what had happened to everyone. As we ticked through the list it seemed like hardly anyone still rode, and out of hardly anyone, hardlyhardlyhardly anyone still raced or logged big miles.

“Big miles” meaning, you know, 200 miles a week or so.

People quit for all kinds of reasons.

  1. They get busy. Then they quit riding. Then they get really out of shape. Then they feel bad because they can’t go like they used to. The mountain seems too big to climb and they can’t stand the shame of being constantly shelled, or the shame of riding with a group they consider “beneath” them. There aren’t many Paul Foleys out there, former national elite champs who get off the bike, gain a hundred pounds, and then spend three solid years getting dropped in order to get fit again. Paul’s best line? “Weight is neither created or destroyed. It simply moves around the peloton.”
  2. The big crash. They love cycling. They live cycling. It’s all bike, all the time. “Why didn’t I discover this sooner?” etc. Then they fall on their face and get badly fucked up. “Stupid sport. I quit.”
  3. Reeling in the years. They get old. Then real old. Then dead-old. Then they turn fifty and the saggy droops set in. “Is this all there is to life?” and “I’ve wasted decades riding my fucking bicycle when I could have been _________________. Pilates, here I come.”
  4. Fear of flying. People age and start counting their pennies, as in “How many pennies left in the piggybank of life?” Suddenly a bike seems dangerous. All those things you did without thinking, and with pure enjoyment, seem risky enticements trying to trick you into an early grave. “Better take up hiking or swimming or chess or photography or travel or painting or something else that I’ll never be worth a shit at and that has zero adrenaline buzz but hey at least I won’t fall on my head. Except in the shower.”
  5. Boredom. [This has never happened to a bicyclist, ever.]
  6. Kids.
  7. Inability to downgrade. People race hard and then find that when they quit racing it’s no fun, but if they keep racing it’s no fun because their chance of winning has gone from zero to 0 x 1,000,000.
  8. Arms race. Compulsive upgrading eventually shatters the family budget or the 4,000-sf mini-storage unit. Debt, depression, eviction, dissolution, and an e-Bay extravaganza result. “I’m into running now because all I can afford are these nice shoes. With no carbon.”
  9. Family envy. Chick is the only fit one in the family. Other family members badger her to quit because it’s “So dangerous,” i.e. “You make me look like a slob. Plus, I hate it when you’re happy.”
  10. Death. This is why I’m going to quit. Guaranteed.



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Return to Dick City

October 26, 2016 § 42 Comments

Do you remember the movie “Escape from New York”? I don’t. But I do remember the hero’s name because it was awesome: Snake Pliskin.

Snake had been dropped into New York, which had been turned into a free-range maximum security prison filled with, well, dicks. Very bad dicks. “So, how’s that different from the regular New York?” you may be wondering. Good question!

Anyway, the plot was that Snake had to do something to get something from someone in order for something to happen or not happen to someone important. At the end, he stomped a bunch of dicks and got the whatever and gave it to the somebody except at the last minute he did something that was a surprise.

This was our screenplay for “Return to Dick City,” where the Biker Gang overran the PVE Prison. We recruited the most awful, nasty, violent, badass biker gangsters we could find in the South Bay, like this stone-cold killer:


As if this vicious outlaw weren’t enough to strike fear in the heart of the Lunada Bay Boys on Mom’s Couch in Dick City, an even tougher contingent was recruited with one goal in mind: Join the traffic at the intersection of Malaga Cove plaza, put our feet down, and show the town’s dicks that as much as they hate us blowing stop signs, they hate us even more when we don’t.


For the first hour we rolled around the square. Traffic backed up to San Francisco and the traffic cops were not happy except for the fact that they all got overtime. Two gangsters were pulled over and cited for “impeding traffic” in a Keystone Kops maneuver where the poor cop didn’t even know the code, and where the “impeding” involved two bikes riding 10 mph in a 10 mph traffic jam.

(Legal note: The biker gangsters are now huddling with their mouthpiece/consigliere to keep ’em out of The Rock on trumped charges of traffic impedance, tax evasion, and seventh-degree murder.)

After the one-hour stop-sign-festival and happy firefly pedal through the plaza, several things became clear: Riding your bike at night with your buddies, all of whom are lit up brightly, at slow speeds, chit-chatting and grinning while the cagers are stuffed up inside the bowels of their inflammable steel boxes is AWESOME! It was the best night ride ever.

How awesome was it? It was so awesome that the biker gangsters declared that evenings when PV Estates City Council schedules its meetings (two Tuesdays per month) are officially designated Dick City Gangster Ride and Free Pizza Night. Bring your bike, and don’t forget to run front and rear lights as well as side reflectors! It was a blast seeing fireflies as part of traffic, cruising through intersections after putting down one foot and slowly getting started again, and enjoying the camaraderie of the evening.

After the Firefly Ride, many of the riders had to go home to dinner, but others did not, and we assembled for the city council meeting. Our plan was simple: We were going to read the city council the entire NIH study that shows with numbers and sciencey stuff and fact thingies how awesome BMUFL signage is.

Since the city council, in voting down the whole five BMUFL signs recommended by the traffic safety committee, outside consultant, and city engineer, demonstrated that it had no fucking idea what it was doing, we decided that we would rally a couple dozen biker gangsters to read them the study in 3-minute increments, the allotment given to speakers. The study had been provided to them as part of their materials in the previous meeting but they hadn’t bothered to read it, preferring instead perhaps the monosyllabic soliloquies of Frank Ponce on NextDoor.

However, the city was well prepared to defend against this onslaught of rational thought and science. When they saw 20+ cyclists in chambers, they approved a motion to move public comment to the end of the meeting. Boom! The thought was that by forcing the flatlander gangsters to sit through hours of the dumbest deliberations known to man, they would give up in despair and go home to their gangster families and do hard drugs cook meth and kill other flatlanders.

At first, the flatlander gangsters were dismayed at the inanity and apparent endlessness of the proceedings, until the council launched into its one-hour presentation of the Resident Satisfaction Survey. After ten minutes the entire city council had thrown out their shoulders from the violent self back-patting that ensued. PVE residents (7 out of 10) rated their community excellent! (Dick City secret police are, even now, rooting out the dissident 30% to have them shipped off to Torrance and other flat lands.)

The city learned fascinating facts such as:

  1. Members of the golf club enjoy golf.
  2. Members of the tennis club enjoy tennis.
  3. Members of the stables enjoy riding horses

But as the council members groaningly tried to get their shoulders back into socket, the flatland biker gangsters were treated to the biggest issue ever to hit Dick City!! The Mystery of the Contaminated Torrance Soil Dump! Apparently nasty Torrance soil had been taken to pure Dick City and dumped there.

Was it contaminated?

Was it loamy?

Who knew what when?

Nasty, nasty Torrance dirt, dirtying up the clean dirt of Dick City! Bad flatland dirt! You are a nasty dirt! Loser!

There was much moaning and groaning and gnashing of teeth and several concerned citizens vowed to get to the bottom of the conspiracy behind the dirty Torrance flatland soil and who killed JFK’s black helicopters. The biker gang phones exploded with hilarity at just about the time that “Trees” Sarkisian launched into a tirade against the city about the illegal planting of a tree 40 years ago.

In one of the most evil conspiracies since the Torrance dirty soil dump, a council member was accused of illegal tree trimming of a tree that had been illegally planted! Horrors! Would Dick City ever be the same? What was next, self-circumcision without a permit?

Three dead cyclists on Hill, rejection of BMUFL signage, and procedural chicanery to silence cyclists were all A-OK in Dick City, but the nasty Torrance soil, the illegal tree, and the water facility security breach deserved top billing … and they got it.

Suddenly, realizing that they were surrounded by idiots with an infinite capacity to talk about pony poop, golf, tennis, and illegal trees, the flatland biker gang bonked. How would they continue? Defeat seemed imminent as the Satisfied Resident Survey consultant was only on his fifth bar graph and we hadn’t even heard about the city manager’s departmental report, replete with his grades from junior high.

Then out of the blue, BAM! Biker gangster Geoff L. arrived with a ginormous tray of gangster sandwiches!


The ravenous flatlander gangsters fell upon the grub with abandon, stuffing themselves full and returning to the sitting fray just in time to hear councilman Rhea wake up and ask if the methodology of the resident survey was scientifically sound. Thankfully, the consultant scientifically said “Yes!” and Councilman Rhea was able to go back to bed, dreaming of ways to ban flatlander soil-carrying biker gangs from Dick City.

Unfortunately for the city’s procedural chicanery, which stuck the flatlander soil-carrying biker gangsters at the end of the dance card, it gave us plenty to time to post to Facegag and the Twitter to encourage others to join us. John K., Joey C., and a host of others begin trickling in after 9:00 PM, and one of those was none other than the meanest, most vicious, killingest cut-throat ever to sail the Spanish Main.

Aye, lads, it was the flatlander from Hell, the scourge of the Royal Navy, the man sailing with a bounty on his head who feared no man, no beast, and certainly no Dick City council.


Armed with a sack of red cannonballs, he showed up with his granny, Ms. WM, who brought two cases of water, a giant bag of mini-Doritos, a giant back of Reese’s and Snickers, as well as the appearance of the 2016 Spouse of the Year Married to a Gangster.

The reinforcements arrived in the nick of time, as the council finally got around to the biker gangster flatlander soil-carrier comments. And they were none too happy when they found out they would be getting hear a one-hour-plus public reading of the study they had been too lazy to read two weeks prior. One by one the speakers read their allotted time, even though the city council sought to reduce the misery by chopping the gangster time from three minutes to two.

Several speakers helpfully advised the council that this was a public service to help them use facts the next time the issue came up, rather than caving to venal petty politics.

By the time the soil-carrying flatlander biker gangsters had read the methodology, background of the NIH, and reviewed the history of signage and the conclusions of the study, the council had wilted like a daisy in a blast furnace. They were plainly angry at having to listen to facts, because it just wasn’t as much fun being admonished with science as it was listening to a paid consultant confirm that 7 out of 10 PVE residents thought the place was excellent and that golf club members liked golf.

Especially stirring speeches were given by G$, Kristie F., and Ms. WM, who admonished the council to “Not be so angry, slow down onna cars ’cause you only living onna one time! Car drivers is crazy!”

We closed it down just shy of midnight, then hung out for a while chatting and enjoying the night-time air.

Was it a success, though?

Well,the city council still hasn’t put BMUFL signs back on the agenda and they’ve made it clear that they are digging in. This is going to take time.

Was it a failure?

Of course not. We got to ride our bikes, advocate peacefully for change, be heard in a public forum, eat sandwiches and Doritos, and laugh at the Great Torrance Soil Contamination Conspiracy with Illegal Tree Add-on.

What are our next steps?

There are no next “steps.” There are, however, next pedal strokes. There will be another Dick City Firefly Pedal and another educational session for the benefit of the council. This next time we’ll have a full complement of free non-alcoholic drinks and pizza and we really will make a party out of it, even more than it already was. Riding bikes with friends, hanging out in the lobby playing with the baby, knitting, cracking jokes and enjoying snack crack was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Hopefully they’ll shove us to the end again, allowing us to boost our numbers even further since so many people don’t get home and finish dinner until 8:00 or 8:30.

Until then, Snake Pliskin and the gang made another daring escape. Can’t wait to go back.

Special thanks to all who showed up to the Firefly Ride, and it was awesome to hear G$ tell the council that he had a 1.5 hour commute back home to Venice (it was already 11:00 PM), but he was excited because he was “gonna be on his bike!”

Super special thanks to all who stuck around for the party and who helped read the NIH study. It was especially special when Mayor King tried to close the meeting and Kim F. and Chuck C. raised holy hell about not having gotten their chance to speak … and they spoke!

Jerry F.
Patrick N.
Geoff L.
Kevin S.
Marc S.
Kathy K.
Tom D.
Kim F.
John K.
Ms. WM
Jay Y.
Chuck C.



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Or in the words of someone else …

October 25, 2016 § 10 Comments

Here’s how another writer put it:

Tired of people pulling in to the Donut peloton? Did you know there was a hit and run on PVDE last weekend? Tired of this bullshit? Then do something!

Bring lights. Wear regular clothes. Malaga Cove Fountain, 6:20PM, followed by 7:30 Council Meeting, where we will be reading verbatim a study to the council – no need to prepare remarks – everything will be provided. No need to stay for the whole meeting – read for three minutes and leave. This was the study that convinced the Traffic Safety Committee and that the City Council didn’t even bother reading it – so we will read it to them.

What do we want? The same thing we asked for this summer:
1) Residents to stop killing, maiming and intimidating cyclists
2) PVEPD enforcement of the three-foot law
3) Sharrows
4) BMUFL signs

Despite three deaths, testimony from hundreds of concerned citizens, direct threats on cyclists via NextDoor, and daily examples of unsafe driving by residents oblivious to vehicular law, City Council ignored the unanimous recommendations of City Staff and Traffic Safety Committee. They ignored science. They ignored studies. They want you to wait two years before taking action recommended by the National Institutes of Health.

PVE cyclists of all ages are the first constituency in the history of the City that has asked for common sense safety protections and been denied. Resident parents are afraid to let thier kids ride to school (367 kids at our school… one lonely bike in the bike rack). Residents are afraid to ride the streets. Myriad invitations to ride with us have been ignored by City Council, City Staff and PVEPD. PVE streets are unsafe for cyclists and anyone who thinks otherwise is in complete denial.

The City Council vote graphically demonstrates that the city does not care about cyclist safety. Question: How many tickets for violations of the Three Foot Law have ever been written in city history? Answer: Zero. Yet every day drivers drive dangerously on PVDW, endangering mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers with families who depend on them. Cyclists of all ages are scared.

The Council’s reaction: Stop signs, stop signs, stop signs. Despite nearly all cyclist testimony beginning with “We fully support PVEPD equally enforcing vehicular law.”

Residents yell “I don’t care” in the city hall parking lot when they are informed your only agenda is returning home safely. They try running you over and intimidating you. This has got to stop.

The time is now for Protest. Here’s the best part: You will simply ride as the city residents have asked: single file, complete stop at all stopsigns, foot down, use hand signals, proceed as an individual when safe. Drive your bike as if it were a car. #cvc21202.



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Law abiding ride-around and civil obedience

October 24, 2016 § 18 Comments

Now that the Palos Verdes Estates city council has voted down BMUFL signage against the recommendations of its own traffic safety committee, traffic engineer, and outside consultant, it’s apparently necessary that they be reminded why signage got on their agenda to begin with: Three cyclists have died on the peninsula this year and blatant, over the top harassment of cyclists who dare to abide by the California Vehicle Code.

Moreover, the city has sent a clear message to cyclists by voting down signage: It’s okay to terrorize cyclists at will. And cyclists now report a scary uptick in harassing behavior, such as this dick move by the person driving CA license plate number 6USG423.

And from an even scarier view …

At 6:30 PM this Tuesday, October 25 (THAT’S TOMORROW), some cyclists will, as part of traffic, ride through Palos Verdes Estates and ride in and around Malaga Cove Plaza, while doing exactly what the residents have demanded: Fully obey all traffic laws and come to a complete stop at every stop sign. The idea that some residents have made, and that the city has bought into, is that PVE should not consider safer streets (five BMUFL signs) because all cyclists don’t stop at every sign, every time. The city council needs to see again how this faux demand has nothing to do with safety and is a deflection from the real issue: Cars terrorizing bikes and the city’s caving in to the howls of an angry and unrepresentative minority that wants to exclude nonresidents from cycling in PVE.

After riding in and around the plaza as normal traffic, cyclists also plan to attend the PVE city council meeting at 7:30 PM, held in the council chambers just across from Malaga Cove Plaza. During the period for public comment on matters not on the city’s agenda, cyclists will each speak for their three minute allotment, reading from the NIH study that shows signage makes roads safer for bicycles. The council failed to read this document at the last dog-and-pony-show that voted down BMUFL signage, even though it was provided to them in their materials.

If you are a cyclist who is concerned about safety on the PV Peninsula, you should come to this 100% public meeting, read for three minutes from the NIH study (a copy of the study will be available, I’ve heard), and then leave as soon as you’ve read your three minutes; no need to stick around or waste an entire night at the rest of the meeting. You won’t have to stick around for hours as at previous meetings.

Some riders have said they will be convening twice a month to ride and to publicly comment at every council meeting until the city puts the signage back on the agenda and votes to install BMUFL signage and sharrows. The more cyclists who show up and take their full three minutes to read from the NIH study or otherwise advise the council of the need for BMUFL signage and sharrows, the sooner we can expect the city council to vote to put these critical matters back on the agenda and vote to have them installed.

The city has shown that as long as the vocal anti-safety residents gnash & howl loudest, they will not vote for human lives. You should consider spending a few minutes of your time to come to the meeting and oppose such a horrible position.

Democracy only happens when people show up.



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October 23, 2016 § 16 Comments

The Fourth Annual South Bay Cycling Awards wrapped up with hardly any controversy! There are too many people to list for their wonderful contributions. No, wait, that’s not true. This is the Internet and there is absolutely no limit. So here goes!

First off is Diego Binatena, from Base Cartel. Why Diego? Because I fucking forgot to thank him last night, out of all the people who deserved mention. Bottom line? Buy his shit. It’s awesome and he’s a good dude.

This year the event hit the medium-time thanks to the Southern California and Nevada Cycling Association. They kicked in a ton of money and funded the toilets, the lights, the sound, the stage, free food, chairs, tables, pro photography services, and half the beer. In short, they made the event! My only question is this: Where were all the SCNCA award recipients? Jeez! What is it about “free food, free beer, and cash prizes” that you bike racers don’t understand?

The plus side was that there were plenty of SCNCA recipients to come collect their trophies and cash, and no group better represented the spirit of the night than the crew from SC Velo. What  fantastic bunch of kids. I think they may have even learned new cuss word or two. I always take pride in mentoring the youth.

Anyway, on to the thanks!

Jan Luke, SCNCA President. Made shit happen. Made this partnership happen. Lugged in the trophies. Lugged out the trophies. Was awesome in every way!

Chris Black, SCNCA Vice President.

David Huntsman, SCNCA Secretary. Lawyer, advocate, friend, guy who has done so much to breathe new life into SCNCA.

Armin Rahm, SCNCA Board Member. Racer, dad, promoter, businessman, friend. Showed up to show the Amis how a Bavarian drinks beer.

Justin Williams, SCNCA Board Member. Racer, cool guy, friend. Ready with a quip and encouragement, hell of a bike racer.

Suzanne Sonye, SCNCA Board Member. Legend, legend, legend. Oh, and legend.

Matt Wikstrom, SCNCA Board Member. Mr. Git R Done. Handed out checks, coordinated everything for two months before the shit show, brought more goodwill, enthusiasm, and execution to the event than anyone ever. Plus kicked the shit out of everyone on the Donut. Except those two pesky juniors.

Sean Wilson, SCNCA Board Member.

Omar Lozano, SCNCA Board Member. Promoter, dad, husband, and part of the “new face” of bike racing promotion in SoCal. Enthusiastic hard working dude who supports juniors, local, and binational racing.

Dan MunsonSimply the best. Pro photographer. Even as I write this he’s putting together a folio of the amazing evening. Prepare to be blown away.

StageOne: Designed everything. Logo, t-shirts, patches, bar tape, banners, posters, and virtually every kit worth looking at in the South Bay.

South Bay Wheelmen: Local bike club that kicked in hard cash to buy flowers for the lovely deserving recipients.

Wend Wax: Chain wax. Look. This shit works. So go get some. Ryan Dahl generously donated 20 sets of Wend Wax, a billion dollar retail value, for the award winners’ swag kits. So frigging cool.

JoJe Bars: Energy bars. John Abate and Jessica Cera’s amazing energy bars that are organic, wholesome, taste great, and give you an amazing kick in the shorts when you need a boost on the bike or off.

Beachbody PerformanceEverything you need to win, to finish, or to prop your legs up on the couch and watch the Cubs win instead of riding your bike. Beachbody has been the number one step up and deliver new sponsor for cycling in 2016.

BonkBreaker: Provided awesome swag bags to award winners containing energy snacks, energy chews, and super cool musette bags. Thank you!

Marc Spivey: Wanky Committee member who filled the venue with the right sound at the exact right time. Marc’s lifetime in the music and entertainment industry, and his passion for music has meant that every single year we’ve had sound that matches or exceeds the most famous award ceremonies anywhere.

Derek Brauch: With the help of Jami, put together the most awesome Wanky Swag Bags™ ever. Provided us with meeting space for our numerous and redundant meetings, the best analytical mind around to improve, question, improve, question, and improve until we were even better than the year before.

Trey Smith: The ghost in the machine. Every year Trey provides us with incredible sound that makes the whole thing happen.

Keedar Whittle: Fantastic comedian who kept people in stitches, hit the great stuff, didn’t shy away from politics, race, and biking, and left us all happy and glad he came.

Michelle Landes: Arranged flowers, total selflessness, and was there with a smile, encouragement, and assistance every step of the way.

Chris Gregory: Truly the Spirt of the Wankies. Whether it was ordering the Hall of Fame figurines, designing and making, the necklaces, choosing and assembling the invitations, recording and double-checking RSVPs, taking photos at the event, making elegant podium presentations, keeping things running smoothly, and always helping me just when the confusion was at its max, “thank you” doesn’t even begin to do it.

Lisa Conrad, Sherri Foxworthy, Stephanie Lin, Chris Gregroy: These four amazing women have been with the event since its inception, if “inception” is what you call a bunch of drunks in a dive bar trying to give away awards to passers-by. From the minute we said “Wankies” they donned their evening finest and showed up with shimmering with beauty, poised, happy, funny, gentle, and they’ve been here every year since. Truly, no matter how rough and sort-of-ready the biker gang crowd is, they give us all the class you can’t get all sweated up on a bike.

Jami Brauch: Jami artfully designed and stocked the swag bags despite having a newborn to care for–the bags were so great this year that people simply couldn’t resist stealing them. Can’t wait for next year!

Kristie Fox: She helped with the swag bags, she set up and managed the sales table (books, socks, bar tape, patches, t-shirts), and she singlehandedly ordered and delivered the most massive and awesome cake in the history of the awards. And cupcakes! And done with a smile and ruthless efficiency.

Strand Brewing Co.: No mere words can thank Joel Elliott and Rich Marcello for this amazing venue, for their support of grass roots cycling, and for providing the infrastructure and support to pull of this best-ever event. Oh, minor detail! FREE take-home growlers of White Sands DIPA, their top-shelf, brew, to every adult who showed up.

Tony Manzella and Echelon ColorPrinted and delivered the amazing award ceremony posters. Ansel Adams said it: “The negative is the score, but the print is the performance.” And what a performance by Echelon Color it was!

Tara Unversagt: Tara worked to get SBW sponsorship involved, helped with swag bag materials, and did the ultimate job of Cub Scout Den Mother by keeping me organized and on track throughout the event. So much fantasticness in one person!

Phil Gaimon: Best UCI US pro road racer, attended our event, made us look semi-sort of legit, and promoted what is the best Grand Fondue on the calendar: Phil’s Malibu Cookie Dough Gran Fondo. Register here, register now. Phil drove straight from Clovis, NM, to make the event. How awesome is that? Very awesome!

Daniel Holloway: As if Phil Gaimon weren’t enough, reigning US road/crit champ Daniel Holloway brought the star power and picked up right where he left off. Being a part of the South Bay community. Thank you so much for sharing.

The 2016 South Bay Cycling Awards award winners were:

  1. 2016 Greatest Advocate:  Sarah Barraclough for BMUFL/Master Safety Plan advocates
  2. 2016 Best Bike Shop:  Performance Bicycle
  3. 2016Best Young Rider:  Ivy Koester
  4. 2016 Best Old Rider: George Pommel
  5. 2016 Most Improved: David Holland
  6. 2016 Best Club: Long Beach Freddies
  7. 2016 Best Event: Dana Point Grand Prix
  8. 2016 Wanker of the Year: Denis Faye
  9. 2016 Belgian Award: James Cowan
  10. 2016 Group Ride Champion: Elijah Shabazz
  11. 2016 Best Sponsor: Beachbody Performance
  12. 2016 Best Male Racer: Justin Williams
  13. 2016 Best Female Racer: Katie Donovan
  14. 2016 GC Award: Joe Yule
  15. 2016 Crashtacular Fred: Marvin Campbell
  16. 2016 Strava KOM: Chris Tregillis
  17. 2016 Most Happy to Help others: Chris Gregory
  18. 2016 Most Fun: Sochin Lee
  19. 2016 Best Spouse/SO: Jeanette Seyranian
  20. 2016 Ian Davidson South Bay Rider of the Year: Tony Manzella

Until next year, thank you!!!



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