Another excellent year for Nelsonville Music Festival, despite the heat and storms. 

Highlights:

Best Party Band: Gogol Bordello. Didn't know a single song when they kicked off their Thursday night show. Didn't matter. Non-stop energy for a very full hour. 

Best Guitar: William Tyler, as predicted. Beautiful set on the Porch Stage, with lush layered instrumental guitar work that Yes, you should check out (see my earlier blog post for a sample).

Best of Show: Field Report. Playing at 3:45 on Sunday from the Porch, Field Report was worth the wait. Passionate, fierce, and yet personable between songs. His lyrics can stun, and hang in my head for days. Some as wrenchingly sad stories, others as snippets of the unexpected ("...out here where Dahmer sings the blues with Liberace, as they sip on fifty cent beers..."). All carried by a voice that can growl, croon and scream at just the right moments, tempered by the lonesome awesomeness of a steel guitar. We also heard some of the new stuff on Sunday, and it sounded very good.

Best Food: Greatful Ched. Local eats that included fried cheese curds and locally sourced burgers. Tip: Get the burger without the cheese and smash your fried cheese curds on top. 

See you next year. Meanwhile, a few shots from the show: NMF13.

As soon as I returned from this wonderful weekend of cycling at Lake Hope, I immediately dumped the bags and arranged everything I'd taken into the word: STUFF. Laid it out on the concrete parking pad next to our old horse barn. My neighbors were watching, and pretending not to. Lord knows what they were thinking. Anyway, I grabbed a ladder, captured the photo, and then moved categories and subcategories of items to where they belonged: the washing machine, the patio (for a pre-cleaning with the hose), and the bike 'lab' (my basement). Electronics were plugged in for charging. Empty bags were stowed.

I made the arrangement (and captured it) as a small ritualistic way of acknowledging that I have plenty of Stuff. Weird, I know—never said I was a normal housecat, did I? Inside this house, there's plenty more that I don't need, so I give thanks for it, and pare down and purge from time to time, reminding myself that More is definitely not better. Most of the Stuff gets used multiple times in a given year. But what about those items that haven't moved from their Ziploc and Tupperware homes as the seasons rotate? 

Here's my 'rule', for what it's worth: If I haven't used Stuff in a year, it goes away. The rule works, and I never miss the Stuff that goes away.

Never.

Are you storing Stuff that hasn't moved for years? Why? 

I love the simple way my designer friend Seth Shaw puts it "Less Stuff = More Freedom." 

The morning of the race, I had breakfast with a fellow WTM participant who had quit his teaching job after 9/11 to become a Blackhawk pilot. Behind us, a group of cheerful Australians who I swore were hungover. And a guy with a prosthetic leg. 

I met my goal for the event, running 20 miles and completing 64 obstacles in the course of a day. Finished without major injury, and had a blast throughout the race. Definitely one for the books, as I've never competed in an event like this one before. And may never do again. Tempting, but WTM felt like a fine bookend to five years of non-stop training and racing.

The best story of WTM 2012 isn't mine. It's the folks who did many laps, running all night and into the next morning. That's hardcore. See for yourself:

World's Toughest Mudder2012

The headaches are gone and the testing—CTA, spinal tap, bloodwork and 3 MRIs—shows nothing. Very grateful for the headaches and thankful that God got my attention.

Today is training day 1, with a much different perspective.

It's almost time for our CSCA Pinewood Derby. From inspiration for the art to the logistics of beer, printing, food and more, this year's Derby is another testimony to collaboration. 

We'll be in our best space yet: CD 102.5's Big Room on Front Street. Air conditioned, expansive, with free parking. And Elevator Brewery will be debuting a new beer not yet available to the public. Two kegs of it, actually. Come help us drink it.

The party starts at 6pm, June 21st. More info at CSCA. $5 to get in, and proceeds benefit our own CSCA Student Scholarship fund.

See you there!

{Above: Original sketch and final poster front for this year's event. As usual, everything's drawn by hand including the display type. Copy by the always awesome Gregor Gilliom).

I've had an Instagram account for a while. Over a year, I think. Never used it. Seemed...cute, but definitely unnecessary since I'm a Flickr Pro user of several years. After all, wasn't it just for amatuers who take bad photos and call 'em artsy with the tap of a retro filter?

Then Facebook bought Instagram. I was curious and decided to give it a fair shake.

A few days later, I wondered why I avoided it for so long. Liked the interface (well, overall). Uploaded photos. Followed folks. Got followed. Slapped those candyland dreamboat nostalgialiscious filters on every image. And I better understood the universal appeal of Instagram and all those crazy filters: it allows everyone to be part of a creative process. Sure, 847 shots of your cat with the Lomo-fi filter isn't going to be picked up by Taschen for an oversized coffee table book. But if that person enjoys the process, then let 'em. 

However, as much as I liked Instagram, it felt like one more digital timesuck. Another bucket that I would fill, sporadically, with no clear direction as to why.

So I rebooted, deciding to simply capture things I'm thankful for, with final images in black and white only (unless it's someone else's art). 

I might even take a picture of my cat.

Sometimes, Things Fall Apart. 

Love that video. Beautiful work. Strap on your headphones.

For all my planning, the Mohican 100 race fell apart. 

A series of rotten headaches over the past week caused me to seek medical advice, which meant a doctor saying, No race for you this weekend. Instead, they raced me to a CT scan, with 'contrast', which means an IV of funky fluid. Which felt kind of awesome. Bloodwork, too.

Still waiting on results.

If you haven't yet, make the time to ride Mohican's 24-mile loop. The first 15 provide the workout. The last 9 provide the reward. 

Doing it on a fatbike definitely adds rotational weight, but for a seasoned rider in good shape, completing this loop on the big rubber is just another ride. 

That said, I don't know what the additional 75 miles look like for Saturday's 100-mile race. Pretty sure it's gonna cook my legs by the time I roll back into Loudonville...

To borrow my buddy Bill's saying, "If it was easy they'd call it shopping."

This fine photo is from Shorpy. Think of it as the Getty of historical images. Some amazing stuff there if you need images for a project, inspiration, or historical reference.

Just uploaded a section of sketches to this site. Most of 'em are ported from Flickr with the help of an app called Bulkr, but I won't update the Flickr set anymore. So if you want to track the weirdness, check the new sketches page.

My ever-patient friend Jeremy Slagle and I made a deal. It involved participating in this year's Pinchflat. And if I didn't participate, Jeremy was allowed to inflict pain.

That's the nice version.

So I'm in, I hope, assuming Nick at The Half And Half will put up with me and perform a small timing miracle. See you May 5th at Wild Goose Creative or later that evening at Paradise Garage.