Look at my arms.

How to tell if I'm feeling good and going fast. Look at my arms...

Early season speed...


Not a way to climb a hill...



Powered by the "lucky sock" fast?...


The only speed here is Jesse and Marko...


Fast...

Perspective

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Never judge a book by its cover. Beauty is skin deep. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. No, that's not relevant. Today was an interesting day on a few levels. There was carry-over from yesterday's email by Rick Walls. He's got the series covered with his most recent win so he's up-grading to Comp SS for the last three races of the series. by carry over I mean reflection on my season. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty happy with my season. I was able to win a race and place pretty well so far and with 3 races left I'm still having fun. I was hoping I'd look a little different while all this happened. I'd made mention of weighing in at roughly 200# the other day. Today a guy at work was trying to squeeze by the ladder I was on so I said "go ahead and push me off." The guy he was with then said "You're pretty big and he's not that strong." so I asked "are you calling me fat?" and he says "yes." I should have fallen on him.

So I blow it off and work the rest of the day and everything goes well. Then I check the images taken at the last race and I see the ones above. It almost looks as though I'm working with Jesse, Marko and Matter, almost. Once upon a time, once upon a time. Maybe someday...

I fully expected to be nearing 175# on the scales after last season's 185#. I also expected to be a little stronger. I need to re-evaluate a few things after the season. Diet and training are the two big things to deal with. Duh, and soon.

So no new toys, except for some new brakes by the start of next season.

A few days off

With my legs still feeling like shit I was semi-grateful to sit in class for 12 hours and essentially do nothing. Karen and Sephie returned tonight and the struggle with the time zone change begins. Bubba sent me the images he mentioned but they're not of me suffering at Rhinelander. They were taken of me suffering at Crystal Ridge. I know because I'm running a NanoRaptor on the rear and I'd switched to the Vapor for Nordic Mt. I'm sure I was suffering a similar amount at Rhinelander.



Rick running/sliding with his short legs... but he's faster than I am.

Get me the FEMA phone number please

I need to file for disaster relief. I got up to Rhinelander in a timely fashion and did a lap with a 34x18. Other than dealing with a pinch flat on the rear wheel it was a good lap. The usual conversations with the other singlespeeders convinced me I had the correct gearing for me. Saturday evening was spent eating plenty of pasta for $5 followed by some Capital Fest consumption around a bonfire with the Muddy Cup folks. As the camping area and most of the trails (if not all) were provided by the local Boy Scouts, their leader had a stick up his ass about alcohol consumption. There was one rider brave enough to bring his beer into the lodge, which I imagine he wanted to have with his dinner. Someone said to him he shouldn't have a beer in the scout area, hinting that impressionable scouts shouldn't see beer being consumed. The rider, noticing there was several smokers in that same doorway, said "I'll get rid of the beer when they get rid of all the cigarettes." With that he walked into the lodge and had dinner.

So the next morning I wake up, break camp and head over to the Muddy Cup trailer for the essential beverage. The usual crew was there doing the same thing, Rick, Liz, Mark (working), Trevor, Keith, Dan and Russell with a bottle of Coke. Russell said the night before they'd followed Marko around the "Quicky Mart" to see what he was up to. He bought Blue Gatorade and some cookies, which are obviously used as performance enhancers. It was then speculated Marko has a bin in the van where these were tossed along with other "performance enhancers" in an effort to keep everyone guessing.

Liz was volunteered to do hand-up duty again so I got her two bottles along with Russell's cooler with Jerry Daanen's bottles. The usual warm-up followed and everyone gridded after call-ups. I was positioned better than at Suamico in the 3rd row and when Don yelled "Gooooooooooooooooooooooo!" there was a lot of dust and we were off. I felt good until the steeper hills and I settled in comfortably. I caught Spencer after the bridges fixing a flat. I'd see him after the second lap sitting by his truck, done for the day. Shit happens, there were quite a few DNF's by the end of the day.

Time for a word about the course... Bumpy. I don't normally bitch about riding a full rigid bike because the Bontrager Race X Lite Carbon does a great job soaking up the bumps. Not this race. It needs to be roto-tilled and ridden by a thousand bikes. It sucked.

I felt comfortable and managed a 54:07 first lap. (162bpm avg) The second lap was equally smooth but I was beginning to feel some minor cramping in my hands. Must be the bumpy trail. I thought I was running in 4th but it turns out I was running in 7th. Still, my disposition was above average and I felt okay. The trio of Jesse, Matter and Marko freight-trained by me before the first hill and they were gone. Wow, that was fast. A few minutes later I started to hurt. Rick had said before the race that he intended to "mail it in" having won the first two marathon races. I said I'd phone it in, but I was having a problem getting a dial tone on the third lap. With half a lap to go I decided I'd ride easy unless someone on a single speed caught me, then I'd ride just hard enough to stay in front at the end. In theory it sounded good, but then my quads started to cramp. A short time later young Greg Parker caught me. Either he was having a great ride or I was fucked. Turns out it was both. I told him I thought he was 4th when he passed me and I tried to stay with him... and had absolutely nothing left. A minute later both quads protested and made me scream for a few minutes, but I wasn't going to get of the bike and walk so I rode through it and kept screaming. It The cramps went a way and I resumed a much slower speed. I could still walk the hills but any attempt at putting power to the pedals resulted in instant bilateral quad cramps. In the last mile or so I caught Keith, who had flatted and was just finishing. I didn't have the gas to pass him so I sat behind him and relaxed.

And then came the results...
Rick Walls..........2:28:07.3
James Sniadajewski....+0:23.7
Mitch Plout...........+5:22.9
Dan Schneider.........+7:12.4
Mike Worland..........+8:21.7
Stuart Shelton........+9:58.9
Greg Parker..........+27:11.8
Me...................+29:29.4
Jeffery Reiter.......+34:38.5
Jim Shong..........+1:03:12.7

I had what amounts to a performance from last year. I don't want to take anything away from the guys in front of me though, it was a really hard course and it had taken its toll on everyone. Marko's hands had been badly blistered in spite of his gloves. It had severely kicked my ass and I was lucky to have finished. If I had run a 20t it may have helped diminish the body problems, but I still wasn't up for the event.

first lap...54:07.9 162bpm avg
second lap..56:16.2 158bpm avg
third lap...67:10.8 150bpm avg .... somewhere I peaked at 172bpm

Later, Keith told me his wife got a couple pictures of me. One has me doing a Randy up a hill with an expression of suffering. Great, I'll get that right up as soon as he emails it to me.

Rhinelander tomorrow

And I don't mean the beer. It's a 3 hour/207 mile drive and my tent is barely dry from last weekend. I plan on being miserable now that I have a sinus issue I picked up from a coworker. I hope I can breathe tomorrow. I found these at the WORS board of the BKB representing at the starts. John-dog in his race and Ryan and me.




I'd better get packing so I can get up there for pre-ride. Wish me luck.

meanwhile, back at the ranch...

I gotta ask, who ordered all the freakin' rain? While I mind getting wet on my rides I really am enjoying NOT having to water the garden to keep all the plants and flowers healthy. Plus the basement is dry. +/- 14" and counting for the month, a new record for any month.

So, I promised more about the weekend.

I get there and park next to Polska HQ. As I change the gearing I have a nice conversation with Spencer. It's drizzling all the while but I'm fine with it. Russell Jobs was not so fine with it. He's been dominating the Comp Clydesdales on his rather sweet Waterford. This race was looking like more of the same so I took a moment to cheer/jeer him on and his choice of knickers. As I'm yelling at him he's grinding up a minor hill. Then he stops, grabs the Waterford, and throws it off trail roughly 10 feet. A few other spectators look at each other and then me. I pause, then start back up with "c'mon Russell, you could have thrown it farther. The judges aren't going to like your technique on that toss." He picks it up and starts running up the hill. A few minutes later Russell passes by on his glow-in-the-dark single speed. Turns out he'd put his rear deraileur into the wheel breaking 4 spokes. Then he ignored the WORS rulebook and hopped on his spare bike. Later he did the right thing and told all the other Clydes and Don what he'd done and everyone was fine with it. He did finish nearly last in the end so no advantage was gained. He simply wanted to ride.

Ben Griggs gave us all a scare when word came from the trail that he'd crashed and broken his leg. Then it was downgraded to a torqued knee. Finally by Sunday morning it was bumps and bruises. I didn't see Ben except for his first lap so I don't know any more than that. I hope to see him soon.

After the Sport race Spencer was getting hosed off by his faster sister Abby. They asked if I wanted what was left in the solar shower and Abby was obliging. Spencer had ignored the other Polska guys when he walked away with "mud butt" but I wasn't shy about having Abby hose my tush. Shrinkage and modesty kept the moment from being any more awkward than it could possibly be.

Once everyone was cleaned the discussions turned to food. Dan Schneider wasn't actually part of any of this exchange, mostly because he declined to race and was on his 7th rum & Coke. He's a happy drunk. I'd forgotten to pack any socks so I bought a pair of Hayes socks from Russell and he gave me a sweet Sun-Ringle whisky flask. I filled it with Bushmill's Blackbush upon returning home. Mmmmm, smoooth. I'd set up my tent before the race during a lull in the rain and emptied the car. Russell trumped the empty Jetta with his empty minivan, so Dan, Liz and I hopped in with my bag of wet muddy clothes for the drive into town for pizza. Why the bag'o clothes? I'd forgotten to bring a second set of anything for Sunday's races so I hoped to find a laundromat. As we entered downtown Wautoma we were greeted by a remote radar gun with MPH display, conveniently parked infront of the police station. While Wautoma rolls up the streets at sunset, at least they have the decency to not be a speed-trap. Next to the police station was an open laundromat. Cool. With 12 of us at the table for dinner, I won't bother with names, it was mostly Hayes/Sun-Ringle and Muddy Cup with Rick, Liz and me in tow. 5 pizzas were ordered, with Dan ordering a Calzone and a bottle of whine. Oddly enough there was no alcohol on the menu. Nope, none. It took Dan a bit to get with the program on that one. I ran down to switch the clothes to the dryer before the pies arrived and boogied back just in time thanks to Rick calling me. The food and company was good. I chatted with Harry (Hayes) and pretty soon it was time to settle accounts. Hayes covered more than half the bill and we all ponied up $5-$10 each. The waitress was cute so she "earned" it. Having gone more than 5 minutes without -OH molecules floating through his blood, Dan felt the draw to Doggers. We'd parked in front of Doggers, a bar with 6 (or was it 10?) lanes of bowling and the Packer game was on the tube. With the score GB 48, Seattle 13, we discussed things other than football. Two beers later it was time to head back to Nordic Mt and our tents.

Then next morning I was NOT awakened by a whipoorwill. Instead it was the sound of a generator and pump attached to the truck cleaning out the port-o-potties... at 7:30 on a Sunday morning. WTF? It had rained all night and was still raining. I walked up to the chalet to check out the breakfast options. $6 all you can eat bacon, eggs and pancakes. Not too shabby. Maciej Nowak (pron: Mah-chay) strolled in and bought a plate. Then he sat down and rested his head on the table. Then he hopped up and headed outside, where he threw up. He'd been up drinking whiskey until bar time. Go figure. Later, Don called a rider's meeting up at the chalet where it was decided to run the remaining two events at other venues (Iola). So it was time to pack up and roll home.

And it's still raining.

Just another race

This last week brought the usual and some closure. My world was fairly regimented. Work a 9 hr day followed by a two hr road ride. I wasn't even motivated enough to be aggressive, or maybe I was spent from Crystal Ridge and the heat at work.

As for the rest of the world, Karen and Sephie flew back out to Seattle as Karen's mom took a turn for the worse. A week or so later Janice had passed away peacefully with her family close to her. Karen seems to be handling it well and has her hands full as executor. They'll be back around the end of the month.

Last Saturday brought my usual schedule. Work overtime for 5 hrs and drive for 2 to the Suburu Cup race at Nordic Mountain. It was a nice morning but as I walked away from the job site it started to rain. It wouldn't stop until Monday. The races were flipped around soJesse and Marco had the virgin trails while I took to the sloppiness 3 hours later. The groove that was the trail was slick even with the Conti Vapor driving the Ferrous up the trails.

It was pouring rain at the start. Liz was nice enough to take our jackets and other clothes as we staged. It sure pays to be in the top 3 for call-ups. As we hit the second corner there was carnage immediately to my left. I'm not sure how many were caught up in it but it looked like a good portion of the Junior field. The single speeds had gridded to the right so Stuart and Rick were gone safely. So was Ryan and a few others as I had a slow start. But then so did everyone else for the first 2 or 3 miles. The trail was classic grid-lock. Nowhere to pass, no traction and no hurry. I was in front of Jim but immediately behind Josh. Josh was cracking me up. He'd drank the 29er Kool-aid before 24-9 and bought a nicely equipped Zion. The new steed must have been inspiring him to ride while others were walking up the slope. His front wheel pointed in his intended direction but his rear wheel spun until it was pointed roughly perpendicular to his direction of intended travel. He was giving it the berries all the while I'm walking behind (yes walking) giving him a narrative "c'mon Josh! you're doing great! Keep flinging that mud down the side of the hill!" It was like watching a crab ride a bike. Jim trotted past us and I jumped in behind with Josh still riding. A few corners later Jim lost his front end and I was able to get by for a while. Josh was close behind and I saw that peckerhead on his Surly. The red mist took over. I'd been in a fairly easy going mood until I saw him ahead of me by a few yards. I got back into a racing frame of mind and made short work of catching him and making a pass stick. Just when I was finding a groove Jim came steaming past me. Turns out he'd been riding there quite often so he must have had everything dialed. Good for him, truly.

By this time I finally had a mechanical issue to deal with. A race can't be complete this season without something failing. This race it was my front brake. I now had an over-sized BMX bike but I could slow down and steer with the rear. With all the mud stopping wouldn't have been an option anyway. The 34x22 was fine and I was making short work of the multis who had started in the wave in front. They were reduced to single speeds for the most part and by the end of the day I counted 4 broken rear deraileurs.

I kept on the gas and but my focus was on keep ahead of Josh and the Surly more than catching Jim or anyone else. Near the end of the last lap I saw the BKB jersey of Ryan and I could tell by his lack of speed his canti's were useless in the mud. He looked less than thrilled so I didn't chat and kept pushing all the way to the end.

The order of finish was different this race.
Eric Pompeo ... 1:18:43.4
Stuart Shelton ... 1:20:05.4
Rick Walls ... 1:20:47.6
James Sniadajewski ... 1:22:20.2
Roger Eckes ... 1:22:56.9
ME....... 1:24:53.2
Dave Volpentesta ... 1:26:11.3
Josh Giffey ... 1:29:03.1
And there were 5 others on single speeds.

I gotta get to bed, more on pre- and post-race activities tomorrow.

Monkey Butt

I generally like my Carharts. They're to an electrician what lycra is to a cyclist. Useful pockets, double knees, tough and heavy denim. But when the heat index is over 110 degrees inside a building which has no open windows and the ventilation system isn't powered yet it really doesn't matter what you're wearing. After the first 30 minutes my shirt is soaked and by lunch so are my shorts. By the end of the day the only dry part of my body is my socks. Today my ass felt worse than it did at 24/9 after a lap with wet shorts. No riding today.

This week after the WORS event at Crystal Ridge has been mental exercise. I dug deep in an effort not to find Dave Volpentesta after the race and beat the shit out of him. During the second lap I passed him only to see him 50 feet in front of me two corners later. He'd cut the course right in front of me and in the end there was nothing I, Don or any of the officials with the event could do without a second witness. So I begged some beer off Dan Schneider and Bubba at the top of the climb and tried to relax. This is the first I've thought about it in 3 days so I'm doing well.

As for riding, where did I used to get my desire to ride when it was 100+ degrees in Dallas? I'm not going to Ore to Shore. I'll do an epic road ride instead.

stinging rain

Rick "I'll make you hurt" Walls
John Fang at work
Dave, a few hours before riding his chair. should he be that happy?
Plip making "no training" look almost easy
Skip came from Nebraska for "this"?
Doing my Billy Idol sneer
Ground zero for "Extreme Rejects", Stuart's trailer
Mmmm, Muddy Cup coffee makes you faster, get in line
Rider's meeting, blah blah blah
Breaking the cherry of the Ferrous without foreplay
I should have gone for a ride this morning. By the time I returned from work it was sprinkling, which was followed by the current steady, soaking rain. The vegetation needs it, but the trail doesn't. Rick Walls called me last night to invite me to stay with him and Liz, but with the neighborhood block party, work and a lack of motivation I begged off. I'll have to check the WORS board tomorrow, if there's any rain at Crystal Ridge the race will be called off.

Here's an "unconfirmed" story form 24/9. A junior men's team, whose name shall remain unstated, had an issue during the night. It seems one of the boys did his first night lap that night. When it came time for his second night lap he locked himself in the bathroom of the RV and refused to come out.

I wish I'd have thought of that.

Everything moves onward

We're all still healing from the loss of Pal but there is still Life. We had a nice ceremony for Pal and he now resides in our front garden where he used to relax for hours. My final words to him were for him to keep an eye on Merlin. I'm glad I asked. Hours later I went to the front door to whistle for Merlin but when I opened the door there he was, sitting on the walk in the moonlight. He's spent the last few days yowling at us with a sorrowful tone. He too has lost a friend and he knows.

Riding, on the otherhand, has been hard to do during this week. I finally got more than 5 hours of sleep last night and I finally feel hydrated. I hydrated just fine at 24/9, with only my left hand suffering any cramps. Picture Dr Strangelove's possessed hand and you know how I feel. At work we've been slamming the hours trying to get the chillers at sites up and running "under control" which is technically a falsehood. If the electrician has provided power to the chiller, we just turn the freakin' thing to "On" and it blows at 100%. But with 144 dampers (vents for you laypersons) to turn to the open position it takes time otherwise ductwork can "explode", or so I've been told.

Where'd I leave off on 24/9? oh yeah, the first lap. Everything was fine running the 34x19 and I managed only one mishap. A superman over/into the bars wehn I failed to lift the front wheel over a fairly good-sized rock. I still have the scrapes and bruises on both thighs from that.

Here's the breakdown...

Rank: 8
Team Name: Extreme Rejects
Laps Completed: 18
Bib # Name Laps
3141 Stuart Shelton 5
3142 Tim Bates 5
3143 Rick Schnell 4
3144 Dave Dahlman 4

Team #:
Lap: 1 Bib: 3142 1:14:47 Lap: 2 Bib: 3141 1:12:55 Lap: 3 Bib: 3143 1:21:17 Lap: 4 Bib: 3144 1:19:35

Lap: 5 Bib: 3142 1:15:30 Lap: 6 Bib: 3141 1:12:11 Lap: 7 Bib: 3143 1:34:57 Lap: 8 Bib: 3144 1:19:26

Lap: 9 Bib: 3142 1:30:04 Lap: 10 Bib: 3141 1:20:53 Lap: 11 Bib: 3143 1:28:07 Lap: 12 Bib: 3144 1:34:11

Lap: 13 Bib: 3142 1:37:09 Lap: 14 Bib: 3141 1:20:00 Lap: 15 Bib: 3143 1:26:25 Lap: 16 Bib: 3142 1:25:12

Lap: 17 Bib: 3142 1:25:32 Lap: 18 Bib: 3141 1:11:30


Miles Completed: 257.1
Elapased time 24:49:42

We stuck to the running order from the night before and everyone seemed to fairly problem free during the event. Everyone had a good time on the 1st and 2nd laps and we settled into roughly 7th place in the 35+ category. By nightfall I had my Demo Sigma light ready and I had changed the fork from the Bontrager Carbon to the Reba from the Rig. Shortly before sunset I took off on my 3rd lap expecting it to be between 5 and 10 minutes longer. 15 minutes into the lap I really needed the Sigma to see but I was doing fine. Fine until the Sigma died. 30 minutes was all I got and I was on back-up via the AAA cell powered Planet Bike light on my helmet. I couldn't see shit if I tried to go fast. After poking around for maybe 15 minutes I was caught by Nick Pettis (#4494). He offered me the battery from his back-up light, plugged me in and took off. He never did come get the beer I owe him. A few miles later that battery died and I was back to riding by Braille. Eventually a Solo Single Speed caught me and offered to light the trail for me from behind. That worked better than I thought and I tried to call the corners and obstacles "rally car style" so he could direct his helmet light more effectively.

The guys at Sigma were apologetic. Although, Jeff from Revolution Cycles claimed the woman working their booth told him "only the deserving riders get lamps this year" when he inquired about the lighting situation. I wish she'd have said 'the riders deserve effective lights' because on my second night lap the battery died just short of an hour into the lap. This time I was lucky enough to be sandwiched between a guy on a multispeed Ferrous and Women's Solo rider Danielle Musto on her Slingshot. She is such a great person. She asked if I wanted to get around, which I did, but as soon as I pulled along next to her and the guy on the Ferrous came past I realized my battery was toast again. I declined and tucked in behind her because I didn't want to slow her down, plus her lighting was enough for me to see well enough. She kept a steady pace on the single track and I could keep up for the most part. We had a nice conversation while I was nailing rocks and roots but I was going faster than without a light. At one point I washed out my front tire and hit the ground. Danielle stopped and waited for me to pick my sorry ass up and catch up to her. Once on the wider trail before the lap I thanked her and took off into the darkness to give Stuart a lap in the dark. Im really glad Danielle finished on the podium in 3rd, she was running in 5th when she helped me.

I took a nap for a couple of hours and awoke for my final lap. I left the 22t on the back that I'd installed for my second night lap because i had absolutely no snap left in my legs. While on the second lap a guy from western Illinois, also 42 yrs old, was complementing me on my ability to outclimb him and ride away from him on the open trails. But then he'd be back on my ass in the single track telling me how the Dr had told him to stop drinking, smoking and chasing women. So he started eating right, riding a bike and letting the women chase him for a change. I hope he did well too.

While Dave was out on his 4th and final lap Stuart, Rick and I discussed the final lap or laps of the day. If I could come in with more than 15 minutes left in the day, Stuart would do one more lap. If there was less than 15 minutes, they'd wave me down and I'd have a seat on the ground just before the finish and walk across at 24hrs. This was assuming we wanted to finish in 9th place. But once I took off on my last lap Stuart, Rick and Dave started crunching the numbers. During the night I had posted such slow times I'd let "Team Family Ties" get a 12 minute lead on us and "Team 24" aka "Nick the battery loaning nice guy's team" had gained on us and was within seconds of us. Nick should have let me grope around the dark trail longer. To add to the confusion and drama, I forgot to put on my timing chip so I started without one, but I got maybe a half-mile down the trail when I realized I needed one, so I did a U-turn and rode back against the trail. The guys were all huddled around the computers when I got back and yelled that I'd forgotten my chip. I knew they'd figure out how to get one to me before the finish so I took off again.

I felt pretty good. I was able to climb with the 22t, and I doubt I would have made it with anything much taller. Just when I was feeling good toward the end I was passing a few people on some single track when I hear a familiar voice. It was Jesse. He either said "BKB" or "hey Tim" or "get off the trail fat ass" but it didn't matter because he was gone so fast I don't think I slowed him one iota. that boy is off the chart fast

I finished hard and strong, only I didn't know it but I wasn't that far behind Nick when Stuart took off on the last lap with roughly 20 minutes left in the day. Stuart rode his full-squish multispeed faster than his single speed can go and by the end of the lap he managed to keep us in 8th place.

Lots of others had great days.
Mark, Ray, Jerrod, and Trevor of Muddy Cup 1 won the 30+ championship.
Jesse (Creepy Friendly), Mark (the Darkness), Brian "Wisconsin Waterfall" Matter and Doug Swanson smoked everyone in the overall Men's Team championship.
Ron-Sta and Jerry Daanen pulled off the win in the Male Duo with Ron on his singlespeed.

John-dog Fang and Justin Davis won the 24 Duo Open.

When US Cycling officially notices singlespeed as a category, Benjamin "whippoorwhil" Griggs, "Super" Dave Schoenherr, Roger Lundsten and Sam Wellskopf will get National Champion jerseys for their domination of the Single Speed team category.
Bringing home the bacon, after eating most of it, were champion Clydesdales Jeff Riedel, Joe Villalobos, Russell Jobs and Keith Wolf of Success XXX Video.
And for the future of the sport there was the group of 4 young ladies putting in a solid effort on the way to the Junior Women's win. Murphykate Montee, Megan Wolf, Samantha Schneider and Sarah Lukas of team "Teenage Girls Doing It All Night" kept the right attitude despite not being challenged in their category. They would have placed 4th in the "grown" woman's category by mere minutes. Megan was good company in the transition tent. We were running about the same times most of the night.

And Dave after his 24hrs

That rock bottom feeling we all know

This weekend while I was off at 24/9 my dear cat, Palisades "Pal", was suffering from renal failure. It may have been lillies, it may have been some other toxin, it may have simply been his time. Monday after work I discovered him in a quiet place in the basement bedroom and took him to the Vet. Today he died. As fierce as he could be he was always a kitten. His growl lacked malice and everyone who heard it would laugh. I laughed because I knew he was a sweet soul who couldn't hurt anyone. He was easily fooled. I could wear clip-on cat ears and he would puff his fur and hiss at me, but as soon as I took the ears off he would look at me as though he was seeing me for the first time. Nightly he would wait for me to retire. He would hop onto the bed and curl up next to me as though we were spooning. Once I was asleep he would go outside and do what all cats do at night. I'm glad I recovered him from Palisades State Park in South Dakota 4 years ago. As a kitten barely as big as my hand he would have been a poor meal for an owl. He grew to be a lovely mature cat. I'll miss him.

I can't find Merlin either. I hope he's only lost.