My wonderful and curious neighbor, Chuck Stahn, who has a magnificent greenhouse and garden, delivered a magnificent bug (pictured above) to Sue and I the other day in a cranberry juice jug. Chuck was gassing up his car at a lighted Madras gas station when suddenly a woman in the next bay let out a scream while pointing to a very large “bug” on the gas station pavement.
“Whoa!” Chuck exclaimed, and with a chuckle, added, “I’ll bet it ran out of gas,” and scooped it up, not realizing what was going to happen next. Before he could get it into a container, he discovered (painfully) that it had its sharp, hypodermic-like mouthpart shoved into his finger. He let out a yell, disconnected the beast, and then – using marvelous self control – put it in the juice jug without killing it.
Outside
Just Like Starting Over: New team/season has Bend's Trebon in top form
Ryan Trebon was tired. Or he was throwing up a smoke screen. A couple of weeks ago, despite tweeting: “I hope everyone else's legs feel as rotten as mine from the last three days of StarCrossed or I am gonna be in a world of hurt,” the professional cyclocross star from Bend finished second to a Belgian former world champ at the UCI-sanctioned race in Seattle. This came after a demanding week in Las Vegas, where he raced in CrossVegas, his first UCI competition of the season, and worked the annual Interbike trade show. When we spoke on the morning of StarCrossed, he admitted he was “a little worse for the wear.”
And this is only the beginning of a non-stop demanding season of fall and winter 'cross races that will have the lanky, laid-back Trebon jetting all over the country with his new team manager and mechanic Dusty Labarr. The duo left the Kona team at the end of the 2011 season to create LTS. Trebon now wears a black skinsuit and rides a 63-centimeter carbon Felt 'cross bike, and seems recharged and ready to reclaim the national championship and the overall U.S. Gran Prix title.
I Ain't Faking: How NFL players can get out of fake injury accusations
Last week, on a Wednesday, which is typically the toughest day on which to discuss NFL football with people who have actual functioning lives, the league pole vaulted to the top of the news feed by distributing a memo to all 32 teams warning players not to fake injuries. Or else… well, they'll have to go into the league office and explain why they faked, or didn't fake, an injury.
“Those found to be violators will be subject to appropriate disciplinary action for conduct detrimental to the game,” said the memo. The offender's team could also be hit with fines, suspensions and forfeited draft picks (really?), or so the rumor mills say.
There are a lot of injuries in the NFL, and at all levels of the game, for that matter, but there are still some players and coaches who've been watching too much soccer and have found the upside of laying on the turf for five minutes before walking off to the applause of adoring fans – only to come back two plays later. You stop the clock. You inspire a level of impatience in no huddle offenses found only in airport security and urinal lines. You give your guys a breather. Makes sense, however lame it may be.
Call it Socceretball: Europeans are trying to turn basketball into soccer and they might be onto something
While we wait around to see if the NBA actually has a season this fall, something is happening in the world of basketball and it's that this is truly becoming a “world of basketball.” This is cool and we should be proud to see other cultures continuing to embrace what was once a uniquely American sport. This is a good thing and not being a xenophobe, I'm fine with it.
But after taking in a few games of Eurobasket (the surprisingly efficient name for the European basketball championships), I've realized something. Those Europeans are slowly, but convincingly, turning basketball into soccer, or something very much like soccer. I'm also convinced that they're trying to bring this to the NBA or maybe if there is no NBA for a year or more, completely take over the sport. Let me lay out some evidence.
Down the Chimney They Go: Vaux's Swifts are as swift as other swifts
You have to be swift to catch sight of a swift zooming by in pursuit of a moth, mosquito, beetle, gnat or other small flying insect. And, if it happens to be a Vaux’s Swift (pronounced vox, or vawx, your choice), you have to be even swifter. They’re smaller than the other swifts we have zipping about Central Oregon.
If you go on a birding excursion to Fort Rock between May and July you’ll see hundreds of white-throated swifts swooping around the steep walls of the old mud volcano, pursuing flying insects, many of which are mosquitoes. If you’re keeping a life list of birds, a visit to the coast may have a sighting of the black swift, a rare visitor to Oregon. Like all the swifts, they too look like a flying cigar with crescent-shaped wings. While most swifts, such as the black and white-throated, have a well-defined tail, Vaux’s Swift’s body looks exactly like a cigar.
The neat part of all this swift business is that the residents of Bend don’t have to travel anywhere to see Vaux's Swifts, throughout most of September they put on an air show everyone can enjoy right in town. Just before dark (about 7 p.m.), what looks like a wisp of smoke appears in the darkening sky heading for the little craft shop, Christmas Presence, on Harriman between Hill and Franklin. As the “smoke” gets closer, individual dots can be made out, zooming about each other, and in a few seconds you will be able to make them out, 30 to 100 Vaux's Swifts. Then, with astonishing accuracy, they all go spiraling down into the tall, brick chimney on the roof of the craft shop.
Biking Far, Running Farther: Reflections and a look ahead at the Marathon Mountain Bike National Championships
Marathon Methodology
Surprise! Local riders crushed at the 52-mile Marathon Mountain Bike National Championships last Saturday in Bend. Not exactly a shocker, really.
We have plenty of talent here in Central Oregon, both professional and amateur and it showed. Again. Adam Craig added another national championship jersey to his growing collection after holding off good buddy, longtime teammate and Bend native Carl Decker by a measly 12 seconds on a course that contained more than 4,000 feet of climbing and sent riders up past Wanoga Sno Park before bringing them back to the finish in the Old Mill.
Craig and Decker rode away from the rest of the elite men's field early and used their intimate knowledge of our local trails to stay well in front of the hard-charging pack.
Kicking Off: Don't worry, the most dangerous play in football is still quite entertaining
“OK, so here's what we're gonna do, gang. After we kick the ball, all of you… well everyone except for our skinny little kicker, is going to run fast, pretty much as fast as you can, down the field. There will be 11 guys ahead of you and I don't want you to run in any direction but straight ahead and if someone gets in your way, run into him. Oh yeah, and you should still be at a full sprint when you do this. Try to tackle the guy with the ball. He'll be going at full speed, too. And, just a quick FYI… one of you is likely to break something. Probably your collarbone. Maybe a femur. I'm not sure, we'll have to wait and see. All right, go get 'em!”
No high school, college or professional football coach would actually says this to his players because no one likes getting his femur snapped, but this is nevertheless the most direct, efficient and truthful instructions as to how to conduct a football kickoff, far and away the most violent, and potentially most entertaining play you'll see in a football game. While it's no secret that football, despite all its glory, allows players to perform physical acts that would otherwise be considered felonious, the kickoff is where it all comes to a head. And it's also why NFL players, each year beefier and faster than the prior, are no longer too keen on kick returns and why the league pushed the kickoff spot up five yards in the hopes of creating more touchbacks and less smashed brain matter.
There were a lot of sports-talk chatterboxes chattering on about how this rule was going to all but terminate the kickoff return and, in turn, football as we know it. We'd see every kicker punch it through the back of the end zone kick after kick, rendering useless the sinewy speed of NFL kick returners, these guys were saying. They were wrong.
Superstar, Supermodel: Tom Brady's clothing advertisements are too sexy for the NFL
I don't only read sports magazines. I'm an indiscriminate fan of several publications, many of which are left on my coffee table and toilet tank with the intention of letting my houseguests and/or bathroom users know of my varied and erudite interests.
So now you know why I was reading Esquire the other day. As I flipped through a few pages about how to appropriately dress for the upcoming fall season in clothing affordable only to the male versions of Sex and the City characters, I damn near dropped the magazine. Why? Well, because looking back at me with an uncomfortable degree of sexiness was Tom Brady. And this wasn't an article about the NFL's fading stars, but rather an advertisement for Ugg boots.
Get Your Cowbell Ready: Fall means a full calendar of cyclocross events in Central Oregon
Perhaps nothing illustrates the fervor for cyclocross like a good look at its spectators. Forget the racers. What draws throngs of people out to watch this crazy, hybrid form of bike racing, usually in less than perfect weather?
“There’s certainly an entertainment value,” says Dave Adams, a Bend photographer who enjoys shooting cycling events. “Spectators are thinking, 'Well, I might be silly for standing out in the rain and watching this, but at least I’m not trying to ride a bicycle uphill through the mud!' And who hasn’t laughed at the sight of someone else falling down in a mud puddle?”
Dogs in the Fast Lane: Don't put your pooch in the back of your pickup truck
There’s nothing, dear readers, that scares me half to death more than a pickup truck passing me at 70 mph with a dog sliding around in the back. Dogs being dogs, the poor animal thinks he’s having a great time, ears flapping in the wind, nose quivering at all the spectacular scents wafting by and all kinds of exciting things to look at – life couldn’t be more fun!
Then comes the sharp bend in the road or the passing lane, and things quickly go from fun and games to sheer terror. The poor animal starts sliding from one side of the pickup bed to the other as the driver swings out and around, and then back in front of me. I fear for the life of the animal, and feel sorry for the driver who either doesn’t understand the danger the dog is in, or worse yet, doesn’t care. Maybe he or she even thinks the dog is “having fun.”

