#one day i will post about the actual racing side of moto gp

[cleopatragirlie]

Do you ever think about

[ladye11e]

Deception pt 32

The conflict between the Assassins and the Templars is getting out of hand. Lies, deceit and subterfuge, now you must pick a side...

Sorry for the late update peeps, Tumblr was being it's usual crappy self and wouldn't post! 😣

Tagging @geekgoddess813 @sweet-flash @ermergerd517 @i-wontgivein @imakemyownblog 💕💕

Link to the full fic so far is Here.

Pressing your hand against the stitch in your side after running down thirty eight flights of stairs, you burst through the exit and slammed it shut, leaning up against it while the others pushed up a dumpster, blocking it entirely so the dozen odd guards couldn't continue pursuing you.

"Well, that didn't exactly go as planned," Desmond panted, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "Hopefully we got what we needed though. (Name), you coming with?"

Nodding as you figured you had better tag along; so you didn't raise any suspicions, you caught his spare helmet when he chucked it at you, tugging it on and sliding onto the back of his bike. Quickly winding your arms around him, you burst out laughing and held on for dear life as he apparently thought it would be amusing to race Altaïr, when he pulled off with a wheelspin in his Camero.

Just managing to pry your white knuckles from around Desmond's waist when he pulled up to the Homestead in record time, you cursed under your breath before taking off your helmet, as you hadn't managed to nab the memory stick out of his hoodie pocket thanks to his Moto GP style riding.

"Are you sure you went fast enough Desmond? We aren't supposed to draw attention to ourselves, remember?" Altaïr chided as he got out of his car about a minute later.

"Says you who burned rubber on the way out. You're just a sore loser!"

Biting your lips so you didn't laugh at Altaïrs glaring, you followed them up to the manor and walked straight past the guards; as Desmond just waved them off, and down a corridor to the right, somewhere you had never been since the renovations.

"Can't tell at aaaall you're back, whats next, blood sample?" You scoffed, after passing the palm reader and retina scanner to the central security office.

"Given the circumstances, that might not be a bad idea (name). This way."

Taking in every little detail as you were led through the security room; that now looked somewhat similar to the facility hidden above the suit shop, your mouth dropped open in awe when you came to a large console at the end, standing behind Desmond when both the men took their seats at the desk respectively. Twelve state of the art screens were attached to the large framework in front of you, each one with a different purpose. Flight plans, a list of active members in the field, security footage of the night of the ball and suchlike, until they all went dark when Altair took the USB off Desmond and plugged it in, cracking his knuckles before typing at his usual slow and steady pace.

"Well, looks like it weren't a total loss, there's something on here at least."

You gripped the back of the chair when several folders popped up onto each of the screens; including the Warehouse 25 and video files, and they began opening them one by one, dismissing anything irrelevant like nondescript business-related matters, schedules or banking documents.

"So boys, you gonna tell me about this traitor then? I didn't have a chance to get filled in with everything going on."

Altaïr stopped what he was doing and spun his chair so he could face you; gesturing for Desmond to continue working on the files, his eyes flickering to your hands that were unconsciously on the verge of ripping off the back of Desmond's chair.

"Firstly, you can tell me why you are so, fidgety?"

Letting go and flexing your fingers when you realised what he was looking at, you scowled at the screen when Desmond had already reached the halfway point of his perusing, putting one hand on your hip while wafting the other at the monitors.

"Traaaaaaitooooor... Aren't you just a little bit pissed off?!"

"A valid point. We have noticed some wrongdoings for some time now, and the situation has become progressively obvious. The Templars always know what we are up to, and then there was the theft. I am assuming that you don't know, but after your mission in London, the money that you retrieved was stolen from the safe house mere days later?"

Raising your eyebrows and shaking your head, you glanced back at Desmond's progress and clenched your jaw to act as if you were annoyed at this information, running several scenarios in your head that would distract them enough to stop what they were doing, but none of them seemed feasible at this moment in time.

"No, I didn't. That's not all you've got to go on, surely?"

"Of course not," Altaïr grumbled irritably, leaning over the desk to pull over a thick file and flicking it open. "We had a contact at Templar headquarters, until recently. She informed one of our members that she heard Kenway and Lee conversing, well more, arguing, about the risks of having an assassin spy. That is why we were there, to see if Kenway kept any information on this defector. I'm assuming you remember Arno?"

"Vaguely, one of your friends that came over from Europe last year?" You mumbled, your attention almost entirely focused on where Desmond was one away from opening the Warehouse folder.

"Yes. He relocated to over here because he was seeing a woman, who just happened to turn out to be a Templar. Elise, I think he said her name was, one of Kenways assistants. Well, before they broke up, she was the one who told him this information, and of course, Arno contacted us straight away."

Your eyes widened when he passed you the folder; which was a dossier on the apparent informant, your gaze settling on the photograph of the redhead that you had a slight encounter with earlier today, wishing you had done more than nearly snapped her finger off now.

"Hey, there's a thought! How about I set you up with Arno? I know you like them tall, dark and foreign."

Slapping Desmond on the arm with a scoff when he spun around and wiggled his eyebrows at you, you handed the folder back to Altair and chose to reveal your 'relationship', as if anything, it would keep him distracted for just a little while longer.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I've already got someone. Thanks though."

"What? Who?! Since when? It's not that bloke from before, is it??"

"It is actually," you huffed when he frowned at you in disapproval. "Bit of crossed wires after all that, it wasn't him that was dicking about. Found out that it was actually his friend I caught doing the dirty."

"That is enough of this idle chatter you two. We came here to gather intelligence, not to discuss our personal lives."

Pulling a face behind Altaïr's back and mumbling jealous cos you haven't got one; which Desmond chuckled at before turning back around and carrying on with the computer, you lent over his shoulder when he finally opened the warehouse folder, screwing up your nose when it was nothing but list upon list of eleven digit numbers and letters.

"What the... Those look like the numbers of our shipping containers down at the docks?!"

Your eyes didn't once leave the screen as Desmond scrolled through the list, familiarity swarming through you as he went past a sectioned off block, placing where you had seen them before a split second later. They were from the message William Johnson had asked you to give to Haytham, urgently. Before you had any chance to ponder it further, all of the screens jumped about in a flash of green and yellow before going black, loud trumpet fanfare ringing through the speakers. You quickly bit your lips together, so you didn't laugh when Woody Woodpecker filled the monitors, but you failed to keep your composure when Wile E. Coyote followed, sitting on an Acme rocket with a devious grin before lighting it up and splatting himself against the screen.

"You find this amusing (name)?!"

Wincing when Altaïr glared at you as if you had just insulted his mother, you cleared your throat and lowered your head ashamed, but still grit your teeth together with a smirk when Elmer Fudd crept on the screen and pretended he had a Tommy gun and, was shooting towards you.

"No, sir. Not the situation, I was laughing at the cartoons. Don't you like them?"

"No. I do not. Only a weak mind would find these funny," he scolded while throwing Desmond a filthy look, who was now staring at the Tv's and grinning. "Didn't you run the antivirus software??"

"Hey, don't you blame me for this! Of course I did, if you don't trust me, you can do it yourself next time."

Altaïr waved his hand irritably before picking up another report; thinner this time, eyeing you up dubiously before handing it to you.

"As I was saying before this disaster, Arno contacted us straight away, and also helped us compile a theory. We believe that the person we are looking for had to be at both theft locations, which narrows the pool down significantly."

Flicking through the paperwork and reading it at your usual rapid speed, you trailed your finger down the sheet when you came across a list of the people that were in your group in London, all of the names crossed out, apart from three. Henrys, Jacobs, and your own.

"As you can see we have narrowed it down to less than a handful of people, who had the opportunity to contact the Templars, due to a, disappearance during each event. I have my own idea of who it could be."

You rolled your tongue in your cheek as you carried on reading times and dates of when you were all unaccounted for, until you glanced up through your eyelashes to him staring at you blankly.

"Y-you think it's m-"

"Henry Green."

Dropping the file on the floor and wholly gobsmacked for a moment, you fell to your knees so you could pick up all of the documents that were now scattered about, bursting out into hysterics when you snatched up several surveillance photographs from London.

"Henry?! Really? You've gotta be kidding," You blurted when you finally managed to calm yourself down slightly and catch your breath. "He's the last person I'd suspect, the man doesn't have a devious bone in his body!"

"Do you have another suggestion then?"

Shaking your head quickly as his eyes narrowed and you felt like you were under a microscope, you finished stuffing all of the papers back into the folder and handed it back, now rather eager to get out of here as soon as humanly possible.

"No, sir. But I do think you're wrong. Why him?"

"He cannot account for his whereabouts for a portion of the ball for starters, while you were dancing I believe? And then there is the fact he has access to all of our intelligence, plus numerous contacts and allies all over the world. It was also he that suggested that specific safe house in Whitechapel. All of the evidence is against him. Desmond, fix this. Now. Or so help me I'll have you scrubbing toilets for the next week."

Satisfied you were in the clear for now, you slowly began inching your way towards the door as it looked like the men were about to get into a full blown argument; and you didn't want to be caught in the middle, freezing to the spot when they both suddenly stopped mid-sentence and turned to face you as soon as you turned the door handle.

"Where are you going?!" They both chanted simultaneously, Altaïr irritably and Desmond pleading.

"Umm, home? Not exactly much I can do here as it looks like a virus has wiped what we've stolen, and it is gone three in the morning."

"I'll give you a lift."

You didn't even have a chance to reply before Desmond jumped up out of his chair and grabbed you by the arm, almost giving you whiplash as he dragged you out of the manor in his haste to get away from his boss.

As soon as you made it to your apartment, you ran inside and slammed the door behind you, slumping down it and rubbing your face in your hands vigorously. This was all going so very wrong, and there was not a chance in hell that you would let Henry take the fall for this. Pulling out your phone and seeing that it was nearly eight in the morning in London, you stared at the wall after going through your contacts list, trying to think of what you could say as the ringing continued in your ear.

This is the voicemail of Henry Green. If you would be so kind, please leave a message after the beep.

Oh for fuck's sake .... "Henry! You need to call me back asap! It's urgent!"

Hanging up your phone and dropping it down on the floor next to you, you banged your head on the door out of habit more than anything else, wincing when you jumped and did it again; harder this time, as your ringtone blared in the air.

"Henry?!"

"(Name), what's the matter? Are you in trouble??"

"I'll explain in a minute, you need to answer me something first. Achilles birthday, you ran off for a bit while I was dancing? Where did you go??"

You rubbed your temples when only silence returned, but you knew he was still there as you could hear him breathing down the line.

"Henry. Come on, this is important!"

"Okay. I was with Jacob, trying to calm him down when you went off with Sergei. His temper was through the roof, and I was afraid he was going to do something stupid. Well, more stupid than normal anyway. What does it matter?"

"Can anyone else vouch for you?"

"I don't think so, other than Jacob. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Great. The only person who could help dig Henry out of this just happened to be the one other that was being suspected of treason. You didn't care about yourself anymore, your only goal was to get Henry's name cleared as this was all of your fault in the first place.

"You're being investigated as a potential traitor, working with the Templars."

Holding your phone away from your ear when he began yelling down it; saying that was absurd and he would never betray anyone, you pressed the loudspeaker button when you couldn't get a word in edgeways, and to save your eardrum from exploding.

"Henry... Henry! HENRY! Will you shut up for one damned second!! Thank you." You grumbled when he finally stopped being hysterical.

"I know it's not you, I told them as much. It's all a big misunderstanding okay? Right, now here's what we're gonna do..."

Dragging yourself up off the floor and stomping over to your kitchen, you flicked the kettle on, to prepare yourself for yet another sleepless night.

[fitnessexpert00-blog]

Cannondale's New Fitness Bike Can Track All Your Rides

New Post has been published on https://fitnessqia.com/must-see/cannondales-new-fitness-bike-can-track-all-your-rides/

Cannondale's New Fitness Bike Can Track All Your Rides

The bicycle manufacturer Cannondale is well known for its high-performance bikes—pricey chariots that are ridden by some of the world's top pros in the elite trail- and road-cycling ranks.

But things were not always so. The company's first cycling-related product, released way back in the early 1970s, was a bike trailer called the Bugger. You'd mount the accessory two-wheeler to your bicycle's rear triangle and use it to haul groceries, bags of potting soil, or your toddler. It was practical, inexpensive, and a nice way to add value to your bike.

Cannondale is a very different company now—a behemoth with $2.6 billion in annual sales that makes all styles of bicycle—but the spirit of the Bugger survives in the company's newest product release. Today, Cannondale is debuting a practical and inexpensive bicycle, as well as an app to enhance the experience of riding it around.

Cool Whip

The new Cannondale Treadwell (starting at around $650) is a lightweight "fitness bike." Not a commuter, not a cruiser, but something that sits between the two categories—the sort of no-fuss bike you can take to the beach, to the farmer's market, or on a 20-mile Saturday morning ride along the river path.

The Treadwell comes in a few different configurations, including a model with a pre-mounted basket, and a mixte-style step-through design with a lower top tube. All of them are made with an aluminum alloy frame, so each bike is light enough to carry up and down the stairs with relative ease. The design emphasizes comfort; a big fat seat, wide handlebars, and a frame shape that lets you sit upright and enjoy the scenery.

Cannondale loaned me a Treadwell so I could write about it. My loaner whip (a 9-speed with hydraulic brakes; $799) was painted a funky mix of pink and purple—a combo Cannondale calls "Cosmic Salmon" that had me flashing back to my favorite old Klein Attitude paint job.

Common Sense

It's a fine enough bike, but the Treadwell's real innovation is its integrated sensor. The small black fob sits on the hub of the front wheel, where it inconspicuously logs all of your on-bike activity. If you want to study your ride data, you just download Cannondale's app, pair your phone to your bike, then spin the wheel to activate the sensor. The little bug stays stuck to the hub, going around and around while it collects speed, time, and distance data, along with an estimate of calories burned.

The sensor sits on the flashing of the hub and constantly measures the speed, distance, and time of each bike ride.

Cannondale

The sensor livestreams all those stats to your phone's screen, effectively turning your mobile handset into a simple bike computer. There's even a case you can buy that lets you mount your phone to a special nub on the Treadwell's handlebar, giving you a constant visual readout that sits between your hands.

The sensor ships on the bike and starts logging your rides immediately, even if you haven't synced your phone yet. The device has enough memory to store your last 30 rides, so if you don't like to ride with your phone, or even if you ride the bike for a month before bothering to download the app, your ride data will be there waiting for you. Of course, if you do ride with your phone, you can collect GPS information as well and plot each ride on a map. The app can even tell you how much you've reduced your carbon footprint by cycling instead of driving. (The app will not pat you on the back however; you need to do that yourself.)

Cannondale partnered with Garmin to make the new sensor, so all of your data files can be opened and studied in the free Garmin Connect app. From there, you can merge it with run data from your Garmin sports watch if you have one, or export your ride data to another ride-tracking service like Strava or MapMyRide.

The battery inside the sensor lasts about a year, and you can replace it yourself (a new CR2032 coin cell costs about $1). Also, if you have a model-year 2018 or later Cannondale bike, you can buy the sensor separately and install it on the bike you already ride. Neat!

Livin' for the City

Hoarding ride data is common practice among the Strava nerds. But this bike isn't necessarily made for the spandex-wearing Strava set, which tends to obsess over performance, training, and racing. The Treadwell can go pretty fast, but it's not a racing bike. It's for getting around a neighborhood, not a criterium circuit. It's the kind of bike you can pedal in flip-flops.

On weekdays, I rode my loaner Treadwell to and from work (seven miles round trip). On the weekends, I took it to the grocery store and did some longer rides through San Francisco's hilly parks. I noticed a few features that made it work well in a city. Instead of the traditional quick-release levers you'd find on a fitness-minded bike, the Treadwell uses skewers that can only be loosened with a 5mm hex key. A determined thief would still be able to get your wheels loose and ruin your day (I once caught a larcenist standing next to my road bike while fiddling with a Park Tools hex wrench set) but it makes it much harder for the casual klepto to clip your wings.

The downtube has a couple of thin channels milled into it, one on each side. Cannondale has nestled a strip of silicone into both of those channels. The strip runs most of the length of the top tube, where it serves as a sort of bumper; when you lock up to the parking meter in front of the taco spot, the metal pole kisses the silicone strip instead of your frame. Really, it protects the paint and keeps you from exposing bare aluminum to the elements. A small detail.

The custom tires are more interesting. The design is actually based on Maxxis's DTR1 dirt track motorcycle racing tire. Cannondale partnered with the global tire giant to make a version of the DTR1 with a similar tread and adapt it for road bike use. The result is a beefy tire (it measures 650b, 47c) that gobbles up the many potholes and canyons in San Francisco's bike lanes.

On a phone call with Cannondale midway through my testing, the product reps bragged that the Maxxis tires can ably handle gravel or sand. Feeling dumb with hubris, I hopped on the Treadwell and set out on an epic off-road odyssey. Actually, I just pedaled a few ginger miles on Golden Gate Park's aggressively benign dirt trails. The ride was stiff, but I didn't biff.

The tires work to give the Treadwell a bit of a moto-BMX aesthetic. That retro dirtbike vibe is reinforced by the crossbar on the handlebars and the tuck-and-roll padding on the saddle. These elements make the Treadwell feel surprisingly familiar. It's a bit like the bike you had as a kid just sort of grew up with you—and somewhere along the way sprouted disc brakes and a sensor that records your jaunts to 7-Eleven. At least now you don't have to beg mom for the money to buy a Slurpee.

Read more: http://www.wired.com/

[oncardan-blog]

New Post has been published on ON-CARDAN

New Post has been published on https://on-cardan.com/perspective-star-motorcycle-school

Perspective - STAR Motorcycle School

Well, things seem back to normal again. The first Moto GP test of the year is done, World Superbikes are testing and the MotoAmerica season will start before you know it. It got me thinking… Of all the riders in any given series, how many are truly capable of winning mentally? Sure, everyone racing at the world level have an abundance of talent, but how many truly believe they can win. When I used to race and we were lucky enough to have 10-15 factory riders on the grid, I used to tell myself that there were only about 5 that I really had to beat. You learn that looking at lap times and seeing trends of certain competitors as you get to know them. Some start fast and fade, some can sustain a pace all the way through but aren’t quite fast enough and some are just prone to make many mistakes. It made things calmer in mind to never take anyone for granted but also look at who the real contenders are.

Last year we saw something in Moto GP that is very rare, 9 different race winners. If you had to put your money on that being the case this year, how many of you would throw your money down? The fact is, weather, tire choice and team experience played into the hands of a few last year that on a normal day, wouldn’t really be a factor. I would say if you were betting the over/under on different winners going into 2017 the number would be 5.5.

This year with the reverse starting grids that World Superbike will adopt for Race 2, we could see some people up front that we wouldn’t normally see. How they handle themselves at the start of the races could be intriguing. Dealing with the mental side of it will be difficult, because some of them haven’t ever led a World Superbike race or any race for quite a while. That said, it could also be a big boost of confidence, especially if they can hold their position and run up front for half the race or more and see the pace. 

So it got me thinking about how so many track day riders approach their days. One of the things that i see every weekend I am at the track are huge over exaggerations. Now, don’t think for a minute that I haven’t ever embellished a story or two in my life. But there comes a point that if you keep on talking about something that isn’t really happening, it could hurt your riding. How many times have you heard someone say, “I had the rear tire a foot off the ground when I was braking?” Its safe for me to say, I never see anyone’s tire off the ground. Many times I will follow a student, video camera on, and they will speak of a huge slide only to realize that the bike never really moved. 

So how are people going to advance if they feel they are over braking already or sliding out of every corner? Most are far off the pace already and what they feel versus what is actually happening aren’t the same at all. Where does it come from? Sure, we can make mistakes and make both of the above examples happen but they certainly aren’t things that are happening lap after lap. As you improve as a rider you will feel different things happening underneath you. You will feel different forces going through the chassis of the bike. With more force through the chassis you can expect to start going through different and deeper strokes of the suspension. These are a few examples of things that will change as you get better. This is why when I teach, I get people back to fundamentals, to get more feel of what the bike is giving you. Teaching people and giving stories of things that are happening at 10-20 seconds per lap faster isn’t doing that person any favors in my opinion. Its just clouding up their mind and giving them more self doubt of something they are waiting to feel for, or worse yet, may never feel – which then doesn’t give them the correct perspective on what’s actually happening.

I recently did a 1-on-1 with a very dear friend of mind and my morning talk was all about perspective and truly being able to define what we are feeling at the speed we are going. It was a difficult discussion for me if I am being honest, because I never set out to take the fun away from people’s riding. That said, my aim was to release some mental tension and really show what was actually happening instead of him thinking that something different or more dramatic was going on underneath him. The result was exactly what I had hoped for. In only our second session of the day he improved his lap 5 seconds from his previous best, that is a huge step and it opened up another level of his riding, I loved it!!! We focused on a few specific things on corner entry, some exit points and 5 seconds was easy. The great part, he did it with confidence and wasn’t putting a wheel wrong. I feel he is more mentally strong for it and now he can diagnose things that are actually happening. You will find the only time “big” things are happening is when slight mistakes are made. If we can cut those down your track days and race days will be much better.

Our first STAR school of the year is coming up March 13-14 at Chuckwalla and filling up fast. It’s awesome to see so many wanting to put an emphasis on educating themselves. I already know we have quite a few repeat students lined up and I am look forward to meeting the all the new ones. Our JP43 Training 1-on-1 programs have been sold out since last September and future dates continue to fill up – be sure to check our schedule at www.starmotorcycle.com. 2017 is shaping up to be a great year.

Looking forward to seeing you all soon at the track. 

Cheers,

JP