Derby or not Derby: A Saturday track decision

Life is chock full of tough decisions, like whether to pay off your student loans or to fake your own abduction and start fresh in a friendly neighboring country to the north.

This weekend the decisions get tougher. You'll need to choose between two derbies: The Kentucky Derby or the Maine Roller Derby.

I find that it helps to list the perks and downsides of a decision, so let's break it down.

Maine Roller Derby is live! Of course, that makes it harder to Tivo. If you step away to the ladies' room and miss a raucous collision, you'll have to be satisfied with your half-drunk friend's retelling of the incident.

Since you'll be watching the Kentucky Derby on the ol' TV, you'll have access to instant replays. You'll also have two minutes of bliss sandwiched between Geico or ShamWow commercials.

But the Kentucky Derby is grand excuse to wear that monstrous sun hat grandma bequeathed you Christmas morning '05. And should you glue-gun a few daffodils and a miniature plastic horse to the brim - even better!

At Maine Roller Derby you won't have any of those broads in big hats blocking your view. Plus, when you "WooHoo" from the beer garden, the ladies of the MRD can actually hear you.

Conversely, those jockeys at the derby will never hear a thing you say. You can tell them to "ride hard, dammit!" or "pull back!" or "Eat something!," but it won't do any good.

On the money angle, the Kentucky Derby gambling is heftier. You could buy a house with your potential winnings - maybe even afford one on the peninsula!

At the Maine Roller Derby, your best bet is to loiter near the keg and hope someone drops a twenty whilst waiting in the beer line.

The beer, of course, is a perk to roller derby. The beer garden has room aplenty - either standing against the rail or seated comfortably in the stands.

If you're watching the Kentucky Derby, you'll be served a mint julep. The downside is, you'll be drinking a mint julep.

The Kentucky Derby does have those awesome jockeys - those little fellas are cool to watch, and they look so much like real people!

The ladies of Maine Roller Derby are impressive to watch too - but you can't heckle them like you would a jockey. No one's intimidated by a 5-foot-4, 80-pound man in a silk shirt. But any one of the MRD women can knock you out cold. (I heart you Punchy O'Guts, please don't hit me!)

You'll see helmets at both derbies - but you'll get to be colorfully distracted by the distinctive "silks" at the Kentucky Derby. On the other hand, you get to use the word "panty" at Maine Roller Derby at often as you want and never be singled out as a pervert.

Well, maybe a mild pervert. (Panties are roller derby helmet covers.)

You may even know some of the members of the MRD. In that sense, you'll feel a deeper connection to the bout.

It's unlikely that you know any of the jockeys, or that one of the horses doubles as your hair stylist. Instead, you'll form a connection to a contender based on how much you like his colors or how many puns you can form based on the horse's name.

The name thing is important - and you'll find plenty to work with during both events. At the Kentucky Derby you'll see Papa Clem, West Side Bernie and Mr. Hot Stuff.

Not bad.

At Maine Roller Derby: Miss Creant, Graceless Kelly and Olive Spankins.

Much more entertaining.

And with the intensity of roller derby, it's also nice to know that, should a skater get injured, it's less likely that she'll be permanently put out to pasture. That's a bonus.

So weigh the pros and cons and decide for yourself. Once you've figured it out, try these derby events on for size:

Maine Roller Derby
6:00 pm Saturday @ The Expo, Portland

Kentucky Derby parties
4:00 pm Saturday @ Dockfore, Portland
4:00 pm Saturday @ Foreplay, Portland
6:00 pm Saturday @ Scarborough Downs

DownEast Pride Alliance: A Salted mixer

Last night Switch magazine and MaineToday.com co-hosted the DownEast Pride Alliance (DEPA) Business After Hours along with the folks at the Salt Institute.

I hadn't been in Salt since the Greendrinks we co-hosted together back in October - when the paint was still drying and the red walls were still bare.

So it was a treat to browse the current exhibit FuturePast, which features the work of Salt alum. The work is solid evidence that the education students gain at Salt serves as a launch pad to future storytelling endeavors - around the state, the country and the world.


[Kiersten Hannah photo]

We high-brow art appreciators thoughtfully examined the pieces. And then pretended to drive them.

Some folks from Equality Maine stopped in as well, looking for volunteers to continue rallying support for the Gay Marriage Bill. In case you haven't heard, a judiciary committee voted yesterday in support of the bill (11 in favor, two against and one putting forward an amendment to send the question to voters in November).

The legislature could vote on the bill as early as later this week, and Equality Maine is encouraging Mainers around the state to phone their representatives and say, essentially, "pass the bill."

If you'd like to get involved by staffing the phones, making calls or otherwise helping out, get in touch with the folks at Equality Maine.

Sign up for Maine marriage equality volunteer opportunities or call 207-761-3732.

More about DEPA

Karen Beaudoin snapped some pictures of DEPA networkers in action

Leave. Work. Now.

This is an alert.

All persons currently indoors must evacuate immediately. Sunshine and joy have been loosed on the Maine coast and all residents of the area are requested to bask in it.

Color has been spotted in foliage throughout the Greater Portland region.

Refrain from panic. The budding plants are not harmful to most humans.

Evidence A:

Evidence B:

If you are unable to follow the preceeding directives, follow these steps:

Scroll up until above image is centered on screen.

Lean in very closely.

It's damn near like being outside. Except not.

Guinness. She still looks good, even at 250

Guinness.

People seem to like it.

Most appreciate it in it's purest form, though there are some places 'round town that toy around with crafty Guinness concoctions.

Back in February, a handful of colleagues and I had the tremendous assignment of sampling some such medleys. For those of you with experience drinking in bars, I'm sure you'll understand the difficulty.

But anything in the name of job security (or at least that's what we tell ourselves).

We sampled drinks from Three Dollar Dewey's Black List (a list of Guinness + [fill in the blank] brews) for the "So...Why Guinness" story Karen Beaudoin wrote for Switch near St. Patrick's Day. And while we were a little thrown that no Guinness glasses seemed to exist in the joint, it was a jolly inspective endeavor.

I recall having little enthusiasm for the Champagne Velvet (ie, Guinness & champagne). The Guinness & Sea Dog Blueberry, however, wasn't too shabby.

When I described the beerscursion to a few friends afterward, one commented, "Why would someone willfully ruin a Guinness by adding champagne?"

A Midwestern pal (who fell hard for Sea Dog Blueberry when she came to visit two summers ago) remarked offendedly: "Who would ruin Sea Dog with a Guinness?!"

Guess it all ties back to that "opinion" thing I keep hearing about.

At any rate, those who love Guinness (sans additives, no matter how creative) can revel in Guinness ardor during a 250th anniversary spree at Ri Ra this evening.

The happy hour is hosted by fellow Blethenite Jenn Menendez and Jill Dube, both Official Guinness Ambassadors.

(No joke. A Guinness rep overheard the two all a-chatter about the dark beer and decided to bless them with official titles. I think the Ambassadorship ceremony included a sword, some chants and the wearing of a barrel-like dress.)

The Guinness Birthday Celebration is tonight from 5:30-8:30 at Ri Ra. [The details on Facebook]

It's cleanup time (Winter's swell, but she's so darn dirty)

The ice scraper won't stop crying and the shovel has sunk into full-blown depression (he's "useless," he says, and has this unshakeable feeling that no one really wants him around anymore).

The good news is, you'll barely be able to hear the self-deprecating wimpers once those objects of winter's past are tucked deep into a crowded corner of the basement.

The bad news is, winter sure marked her territory.

The melting snow has revealed trails of dropped garbage along streets and front yards - much like a passing glacier might casually unload the fossils of woolly mammoths.

Except the remnants of ancient McDonald's wrappers don't seem to garner quite the same interest (you know, anthropologically speaking).

We could leave all the garbage to be punted by the wind into the waiting branches of a nearby tree - but that sort of goes against the whole nature thing. Besides, trees already have enough on their plate, with all the growing and the photosynthesis and whatnot.

The spring cleaning is our responsibility. It's a solid "thank you, ma'am" to Mother Nature (who, Nor'Easters aside, is pretty damn good to us). Or if you prefer, consider it a down-payment on the impending near-perfection that is a Maine summer.

If you appreciate cleaning as part of a crew (thanks to that brief "involuntary community service" stint you did back in '85), get in on one of these upcoming group cleanups:

On the peninsula

Parkside: April 25
10 am-noon. Meet at 61 Sherman St. Fix-It Man and Hot Suppa have generously donated coffee and snacks to get everyone started.

East End: May 2
9 am-noon. Rain or shine. Bring a pair of gloves and meet by the East End Beach parking lot.

Eastern Cemetery: May 2
Get your garden on with Spirits Alive at the Eastern Cemetery in Portland.
FMI: www.spiritsalive.org

Bayside: May 9
10 am-1 pm. Meet on Oxford Street outside Pearl Place Apartment Building. Gloves will be provided.

West End: May 16

Not too far off

Scarborough Marsh: April 25
There are several locations being combed and cleaned, including the marsh, beaches and Route 1.
FMI: www.scarboroughmaine.com

Recompence Shore Campground: May 1 & 2 or May 8 & 9:
Camp free courtesy of Recompence in Freeport - simply lend a hand with the spring cleanup on Saturday and/or Sunday. Don't forget the BBQ lunch. 
FMI: www.freeportcamping.com

Cow Island: May 9 and May 16
Cleanup is a fine excuse to get thee to Cow Island and help the folks at Rippleffect. You'll need to pay your ride on the Casco Bay Ferry, but like that's hard.
FMI: www.rippleffect.net

Saco River: May 30
Join volunteers and staff from Ferry Beach Ecology School for the 10th Annual Saco River Canoe & Cleanup. Bring your canoe, kayak or skiff and join the flotilla and collect the trash along the river banks.
FMI: www.fbes.org/events/canoe.html

The EpicMan Goes. All. The. Way.

Life isn't a spectator sport.

But sometimes it is.

Like when two guys decide to kayak and bike 163 miles from Portland to Hopkinton, Mass and then run a little Boston Marathon with all that extra energy.

That's the very, very simple gist of the EpicMan. We talked a bit about the premise a few weeks ago.

As much as some of us appreciate participation - and as much as we all like to join in, take part, experience weirdness first hand, this isn't one of those times.

During EpicMan, there's no "I wanna get in on that." Instead we less-motivated (and perhaps less insane) folks say, "Man, that's a shipload of crazy. But hey, I'll still hang out at the bar and watch."

So that's what we did at Ri Ra yesterday, as the two EpicMen Will Thomas and Seth Bradbury launched their 24-hour journey. The guys kayaked from Peaks Island to Portland - and were welcomed by a bar-full of supporters at their first pit stop.

[Cara Slifka photos]

While we waited, we gambled on their split time. I decided a solid hour (bringing them in at 4:00 pm) would allow for solid paddling with a few pauses to appreciate the fine weather and the not-so-awful view.

I underestimated the duo, as they arrived smiling and no worse for the wear at 3:52 pm.

Two good-guessing people won prizes that included Red Sox tickets and Urban Epic entries. Turns out one was a friend, the other was my landlord. Weird. Proceeds from the raffle also went to Big Brothers, Big Sisters of Southern Maine.

It wasn't long before Seth and Will bellied up to the bar to join in the best of gluttonous weekend activities: beering.

The gentlemen hung out for a while, posed for some photos and then readied for the bike ride south by swapping wet suits for really tight shorts.

We cheered them off onto the next leg of their journey (pit stop at the Portsmouth Brewery) and congratulated ourselves for being such supportive lushes.

As I write this at 9:51 am, the guys are without sleep and headed to the starting line of the Boston Marathon (the implication being that yes, they are still alive and functional).

Follow the updates on twitter/theepicman or The EpicMan blog.

See who wasn't ashamed to drink on a Sunday afternoon in support of EpicMan

Ani DiFranco in the record store. And Record Store Day.

I'm not going to lie: I'm a little ashamed of you right now.

Here comes an afternoon's worth of 60-degree temps, sunshine and delight - and yet there you sit tinkering away with the computer keyboard and disappearing every hour to take a cat nap in the ladies room.

Then Ani DiFranco comes to Bull Moose for a free show this afternoon and you're nowhere to be found. I sure didn't have any trouble inventing an important "meeting" right around 1:00 pm. But then, I s'pose I'm just one of those dedicated people who doesn't allow lunch hour restrictions and suspended driver's licenses to get in my way.

The aisles of Bull Moose in Scarborough were lined with CDs and Ani fans this afternoon for the free show. The performance was a nod to tomorrow's Record Store Day - an event conceived of by Chris Brown of Bull Moose.

Although still in its infancy, Record Store Day can brag about how it's "like, really popular in Europe."

Check out all the free in-store performances happening at all Bull Moose locations in ME and NH: www.bullmoose.com

As for you DiFranco fans who missed today's musical get-together, fret no more. Stop your crying. Seriously. Get yourself together.

There are still tickets for tonight's performance at Merrill Auditorium and it's nearly free - as in "$42-isn't-free-at-all." [Tickets]

And the next time an internationally recognized singer/songwriter comes to town for a free show in the middle of the workday, just remember: Steady paychecks will come and go. But that in-store performance will last forever.

These people ditched work for Ani DiFranco

The art is on at Ink & Drink

Wall-mounted art has its place - unfortunately that place is typically a poorly lit hallway or that dusty, often-forgotten space above the radiator.

If you're lucky enough to have a piece that makes you feel good every time your eye catches it on your way to the kitchen, then three cheers - you picked well.

But it's hard for that selected masterpiece to do you any noticeable good once you're out of the house and walking headlong into a first date, long work week or an evening in town.

And dragging that 4'x5' artwork with you will only lead to awkward board meetings, mandatory trips to the shrink and a good deal of "alone time."

But it seems Mark Ohlson has resolved the issue with his new brand of wearable art called Local Ink.

Local Ink brings the unique designs of local artists and plants them unabashedly on cotton tees, tanks and polo shirts. There's a line of ball caps too, for folks who appreciate a fine-looking lid.

But it's not just about wearing pretty. The company aims to promote artists and their work and improve the morale of the clothing's wearers. Read: these duds make you feel good.

And by appearances, everyone was feeling pretty good during last night's Ink & Drink at Port City Music Hall. The event showcased original works by artists Tessa O'Brien and Theodore Bettcher and welcomed new artists into the Local Ink family.

Some of the art was walking among the crowd (with a little help from the able models).

And some work was easeled at the front of the hall.

Artists and models lined up so we could take a gander at the line and aptly recognize the designers.

Local Ink patriarch and master of ceremonies Mark Ohlson [on the right] reveled in the Local Ink love.

And don't worry Mark, I won't mention how it was your return to Portland that resulted in my dismissal from the house on St. Lawrence Street. No hard feelings. (Just ship the courtesy Local Ink T-shirt to my office.)

Perusal is encouraged: www.local-ink.com

All the Ink & Drink photos

A chef with some power tools at Eve's at the Garden

For one weekend a year, Portlanders are happy to pile out into the frozen winter air during Ice Bar. OK, maybe "happy" is stretching it, but we do it because the Ice Bar at Portland Harbor Hotel is such a unique and infrequent event.

It wasn't all that long ago that we stood out in the cold, haphazardly gripping our beers with ski gloves while alternately sipping and wiping our noses. And all the while we thought "God I wish it was warmer."

Of course the whole "ice" thing doesn't float well in the spring. Well actually, it does float - that's kind of the problem.

But ice aside, remember that stellar outdoor space? That sweet hidden courtyard just beyond the dinner tables at Eve's at the Garden?

You had to have noticed it and longed for a spring happy hour. Or maybe your noggin was too cold to think of such things.

I recall saying I'd be back when it was warmer, though that thought seemed to melt and disappear along with the ice bar martini luges.

Consider me thankful for the reminder I got last week then, when a colleague and I popped in to Eve's at the Garden to meet Chef Earl Morse during a welcome happy hour.

Chef Morse is new to Eve's - having replaced Jeff Landry not so long ago - and is in the midst of stirring up the restaurant's menu.

Of course what caught my attention was his reference to a stint he did in Vegas with performance ice sculpting company Fear no Ice. These guys don't simply whittle large blocks of ice, they do it choreographed to music and topped with pyrotechnics.

We even caught Chef Morse in the ice carving act on the patio, with some sporadic spring sun taking the place of the fireworks.

While the carving requires care and detail, the art of moving said carving is more "lift and pray."

But enough about the ice for the time being (we'll talk ice again later once we have Chef Morse fully committed to teaching me the art of ice sculpting. He's dang near convinced, I think).

The point that I'm leisurely getting to is the patio. Remember we talked about the patio? With the sun finally shaking its shyness and the temperatures getting in line with the season, drinks in the courtyard is a winning idea.

And thanks to the hidden nature of the place, you can head out at noon for a martini lunch and not worry about being spotted by nosy foot traffic and/or your 1:00 pm surgical patient.

Blossoming chefery in the Grill Room kitchen

Employment has become a tentative thing these days.

Sure, we can cling to our jobs like five-years-olds grappling for a mother's leg the first morning of kindergarten. But inevitably we'll still end up ditched in a classroom full of strangers, hiding behind the "Magic Mirror" and eating crayons to pass the time.

The line separating "gainfully employed" and "parent's basement" has become very, very fine. The question is: What's your backup plan?

I admit I've ruminated on alternative careers should things go way south for me here (perhaps Professional Beeswax Lip Balm Maker).

So when I got word that a couple of colleagues and I would be testing our culinary skills in the Grill Room kitchen, four words came to mind: Master Chef Shannon Bryan. (Did you hear that? Sounded a bit like Destiny.)

The kitchen expedition is the basis of a story running in the April 16 issue of Switch magazine. Switch editor Karen Beaudoin, RaisingMaine.com producer Wendy Almeida and I had the happy opportunity to work alongside Chef Harding Lee Smith (of Grill Room, Front Room and soon-to-open Corner Room fame).

Being a humble sort, I could only imagine how the accolades would come flooding the moment I first lifted a sharpened carving knife from the…uh…you know, that wooden thingy with the slits in it.

[Fred J. Field photos]

So maybe my proficiency in the kitchen is slightly lacking. Maybe my notion of a six-course meal is limited to five well-poured bowls of Grape Nuts and a cookie.

But I was sure to thrive under the chef's tutelage.

Things started on the up and up. I was presented with a massive portion of beef, the likes of which I imagined had never been seen before.

Chef Harding set a fine fat-cutting example and I was able to follow suit without royally butchering the meat or cutting off any of the all-important phalanges.

But then, the "chive situation." Those harmless-looking strands of herb that refused to be chopped into small, uniform fragments. Chef Harding was clearly in cahoots with the slender, green devils, as he was able to finely divide them with an easy shake of the knife.

My chopping resulted in a weed-wackered mess. To add to the insult, once the chives were dispelled into a container, I knocked it over. Just a little classy kitchen maneuvering.

Chives aside, I masterfully scored the foie gras and dug marrow from a bone as though I'd been doing it for years (maybe I have, maybe I haven't. My lawyer has advised me not to discuss it).

I also learned that pressing hardboiled egg through small holes in a strange metal apparatus (a process Chef Harding called "seething") ain't too glamorous - but it's all in the name of presentation.

Somehow we three novices prepared a six-course meal that (in my humble opinion) rivaled the masters. The meals were served to some of the Grill Room staff - none of whom turned up their noses or commented on the sad-looking chives. I'd say the meal was a success.

My future career as an award-winning chef? The chives killed that dream.

But I still think "Experienced egg seether" would look good on a resumé.

The secret life of beeswax at Wolfe's Neck Farm

I've always been drawn to bees.

I was once so drawn to them that I was pulled abruptly from a horse's saddle and onto an unsuspecting ground nest.

That hive had apparently escaped any lessons in manners because I was welcomed with a rather painful greeting from at least thirty of them.

Afterward, as I sat uncomfortably on a heavily cushioned chair and waited for signs of anaphylaxis, I decided that my affinity for bees would be the "from a distance" sort (like appreciating the breeze from an oscillating fan without putting your hands into it).

My appreciation of those fiery little creatures was amplified recently when I attended a class on beeswax products at Wolfe's Neck Farm in Freeport.

The class is part of the farm's Do it Yourself series, which includes classes on things like cheese making, bread making and backyard chickens.

Our expectation that Saturday morning was to learn to make lip balm and hand lotion from beeswax (a skill I thought might come in handy when the American dollar tanks and we revert to the old standby: bartering). It was a perk to walk away with some bee pedagogy as well.

Our instructor Mark is a part-time beekeeper himself, with 22 hives on his property in Pittston. And if his T-shirt doesn't make it clear enough, the man digs his bees.

While he measured out ingredients and walked us through the hand lotion-creating process, he also educated us on bee realities. For one, the diminishing population forces Maine's blueberry farmers to import 100,000 hives every year to adequately pollinate the fields. [Check out this 60 Minutes video, "What's Wrong with the Bees"]

Mark gave us the queen bee details too, like how more than one potential queen is laid and reared in "queen cells" and the first two to emerge fight to the death. [More on queen bees]

We also took a gander at raw beeswax -before it's melted and strained to remove things like dirt and "bee parts" (the technical term). In the above photo you can see a few bees entombed in the wax.

Mark supplied all the materials needed for the class - from the beeswax to the cooking pots, which he insisted he didn't steal from his wife. On the Wolfe's Neck Farm kitchen stove, we marveled over the melting wax.

With the addition of mineral oil, distilled water and borax, we had ourselves some liquid hand lotion.

The lotion is funneled, still hot, into cups of your preference.

The lotion firms up a bit once it starts cooling, though it felt pretty sweet to sample it while it was still warm.

Then on to the lip balm. Again the ingredients are few: some shredded beeswax, a few oils and some aloe-vera gel.

The mixture is poured into a plastic bottle for easier tube filling. And after that cools, it's ready for use as well.

The two-hour class cost $30. Though we were told if we stuck around for the backyard chicken class (which was happening later that afternoon) we could also leave with a full-grown chicken.

It wasn't an altogether absurd idea. The ban on backyard chickens in Portland was lifted in February and chicken owners are no longer compelled to disguise their chickens as animated lawn ornaments or unfortunate-looking cats.

We scoped out the chickens before we left the farm, though I ultimately decided my apartment neighbors might not approve.

I did leave with two containers of hand lotion and a couple tubes of lip balm, which I put to use immediately.

For upcoming classes at the farm, check the Wolfe's Neck Farm website

And before you angrily swat at a bee this summer, remember how important Maine's state insect is to the local farming economy and to food production around the world.

Then swat at it. (You can still appreciate bees without allowing them to overtake your picnic or nest in your hair.)

Rams overtake Congress Street during Ebune: Procession of the Ram

It was a takeover of paper mache proportions during Ebune: Procession of the Ram on Sunday afternoon.

In front of MECA a crowd gathered just before noon. Ram heads were donned and brightly pattern flags were raised. And the rhythmic drumming could be heard for blocks.

Ebune is led annually by Oscar Mokeme, director of the Museum of African Culture and draws inspiration from West African ritual traditions invoking Ebune, the ram, a symbol of fertility and the harbinger of spring renewal.

And spring was definitely listening (I have the awkward face sunburn to prove it).

A couple of friends and I spectated for a bit, and while we wondered at the puppetry and the crafty nature of Portland in general, we spotted a man in an African mask and full regalia walking amongst the crowd. He carried what appeared to be an animal's tail - Mother Nature's pom pon - and sporadically touched a person on the face or head with it.

After he so anointed a friend, she remarked: "I've either just been cursed or I'm now incredibly fertile." Only time will tell.

The masks and large overhead puppets were impressive - quiet the zoo on Congress Street.

Though nothing quite compared to the enormous - and I mean gargantuan - creature that approached from a side street.

It's the closest I've come to being run down by any of Maine's wild predators (well, there was that unfortunate incident with the pigeon, but let's allow that memory to just drive right on by).

It was at this moment we decided that simply sidewalking ourselves to watch the parade march past would not be an adequate experience. So we found some rams and flags of our own (extras were on hand for just such a change of heart), lifted them high and joined the festivities.

At noon parade-goers spilled onto the street, lined up en masse and started toward the Eastern Prom.

The welcome sun amplified the colors on the street - a spotlight on Portland's menagerie.

The drummers and dancers kept the parade loud and lively.

Once at the East End, the crowd gathered on the still-yellowed grass to celebrate the season and affirm the agreeable notion that winter really is over. (Though I'm not officially putting my shovel away for it's summer slumber until June 1. It's Maine - you just never know.)

We've always heard that "Spring comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb." No one ever mentioned the ram parade in the middle.

They should note that in the future.

More Ebune parade photos

163 miles isn't lunatic. It's EpicMan

Levels of insanity can be judged in miles.

For example, consider five miles the average distance the average human would choose to propel himself via sheer physical activity. A friend might say, "I biked five miles today," and you'd say "That's swell. Where are we going for lunch?"

If same friend said, "I ran 26.2 miles this morning," you'd probably exclaim praises for the noble accomplishment, nod in an impressed manner for a few hours and then begin formulating excuses in your head as to why you never ran no stinkin' 26.2 miles.

Should a friend claim he'd run, biked and swam 140.6 miles (just a little Ironman, people) you might press your eyes wide with shock, smile awkwardly and start peeking in said friend's medicine cabinet for an unfilled psychotropic medication.

But when numbers like 163 start flying around...well, then you run for the hills (er, jog for the hills - you're no crazy person).

But 163 miles is exactly what Will Thomas and Seth Bradbury plan to trek during the upcoming EpicMan adventure. The planned journey launches via kayak from Peaks Island at 2 pm on Sunday, April 19th. From Portland they'll bike overnight all the way to Boston and with the surplus energy the duo will run the Boston Marathon on April 20.

Yup. Full-blown insanity. The lock-up kind.

It's not without purpose, though. The EpicMan represents the birth of the 2009 Zone Urban Epic season.

And it's not without a little merriment mixed in either. Along the 163-mile journey, Will and Seth will be stopping in to celebrate with we sloths in Portland (at Ri-Ra), Portsmouth (Portsmouth Brewery) and after the marathon in Boston (Rattlesnake Bar & Grill, just two blocks beyond the finish line).

Even better, Big Brothers, Big Sisters of Southern Maine benefits from the endeavor. At each pubstop, the folks from Tri-Maine will be on hand pushing raffles and consumption. And as my Tri-Maine "insider" says, "The more party goers the more cashola." The raffles will be based on Will and Seth's arrival time at each stop. And prizes include pairs of Red Sox tickets and cash toward bar tabs.

In preparation, all we spectators and supporters need to do is mark our calendars (that's April 19 & 20).

For Tri-Mainer Will Thomas and self-proclaimed everyman Seth Bradbury, some additional effort is required.

But never fear, folks. These fellows are hot on the training circuit, complete with the stationary gold stallion known as the Sunspirit.

[Photo from the EpicMan blog]

How'd this all come to fruition? The stories are conflicting, but according to Will it had something to do with a gentleman's bet, one-upmanship and a guy in an inappropriately small t-shirt.

Follow the training and the madness on the EpicMan blog: theepicmancometh.blogspot.com or on Twitter: twitter.com/TheEpicMan

Then get yourself out to one (or all) of the stops and show some support (no running involved).