You got a screw loose, Wanky

November 7, 2017 Comments Off on You got a screw loose, Wanky

 

I went back to the bike shop around the corner and asked the mechanic to swap out the nonexistent brake pads that li’l Joey Cooney had loudly hinted I should replace. This is of course the same Joey who rides around on threadbare tires, proving the old biker maxim that it’s better to talk shit than to do shit.

The shop was closed, which made sense because it was in the middle of the day, and no one in Vienna seemed too concerned about working when they didn’t have to. However, Martin’s shop dog, a big Weimaraner, stood at the door and dared me to come in.

The two-hour lunch break ended at 2:00 and I only had fifteen minutes to wait, but you’d be amazed at how slow time crawls when it’s 41 degrees outside and you’re standing in the drizzle wearing a t-shirt. “You are back?” Martin asked reappearing at exactly two o’clock. “In Vienna we do not wear the t-shirt in winter.”

“Yeah. I need some new, how do you call these? Brake pads.”

“Gummi,” he said and motioned me in while the Weimaraner growled. “Do not worry. He does not hurt anyone until the biting.” He put the bike up on the stand. “So,” he said “why are you actually here in Vienna? It is cold in November you know.”

I shivered. “Yeah. Well my son is getting married and we’re here for a week or so.”

This explanation didn’t appease him. “Yes, but you see it is cold here and raining so we were wondering,” he nodded over at the guy who was leaning up against the wall “why you are here with the bicycle and only wearing the t-shirt?”

“I figured I kind of need to get to know the lay of the land so I brought my bike. And I’ve got a coat back at the motel.”

“Yes, but why are you with the bicycle in November in the rain and the coat in the hotel? There it will not keep you warm too much. Some people bicycle in such times but only because they must. With fenders and jackets because outside it is cold.”

“I dunno, I didn’t know how bad the weather was going to be.”

“But you have the searching Internet and can check weathers easily it seems. It could not have been too big a surprise finding cold in Central Europe during winter and you said you are from Kalifornien and so we are wondering,” he nodded again over at the dude holding up the wall “why you are here?”

“Look, dude,” I said, “I like to ride my fuggin’ bike, okay? I been here once and I’ve seen all the fuggin’ museums I care to see. I don’t care if it’s cold or raining or snowing or if you’re getting fuggin’ annexed by Germany. I just wanna ride my bike. And if I can ride the fuggin’ thing with brakes, that would be awesome.”

He nodded. “This must be the American style. Here in Vienna when it is very cold and raining we do not adventure to the outside on our bicycles and certainly not in the t-shirt with the jacket in the hotel.”

“How many days a year is it not cold and raining? Two?”

“Only a very few,” he said, finishing up with the brake pads. Then as punishment for being so stupid as to come to Vienna in winter with a brakeless bike and not be wearing a jacket he charged me 75 Euros, which is like $4,000 US. “Can I advice you?” he asked.

“Why not? I suppose I’ve paid for it.”

“Are you working on your own bicycle yourself?”

“Yeah. I put it together when I got here.”

“My advising to you is to not do the bicycle work for yourself. Perhaps it is not your profession or strong point.”

“Whatever, dude. I got trained up by Boozy P. before I left so I could take the bike apart and put it back together. Boozy P. is as good as they come.”

“The taking apart is not so difficult as many children can do this. It is the back together putting that requires some attention and experience. Do you see this?” He held the front brake and tried to move the front wheel forward. The whole front end rattled like a loose set of dentures, with enough play in the headset to fit a small marching band into it.

“Yes?”

“This means you have not tightened the bolts correctly or at all. In a few more kilometers you will lose all steering and perhaps the head tube of the bicycle will shatter from back and forth movement, likely on the downhill with high speed over very hard cobbled stones.”

“Shit,” I said.

“Yes,” he continued. “If you prefer I can make it wholesome, but you only requested the gummi so I did not want to perform an annoyance.”

“It would have been more annoying to lose the steering at 50.”

“Yes, but perhaps it was the American style, as with t-shirt in winter. Right Udo?” He glanced over at Udo, who nodded. “Let us see if we can make it wholesome.” He loosened the stem bolts, tightened the cap on the steerer tube, then used the torque wrench to snug everything up. “This way you will ride Austrian style, with everything not falling apart in the middle of the pedaling.”

“Thanks, dude,” I said.

“It is not a problem. I have included it in the price.”

Suddenly the 75 Euros seemed like the bargain of my life. The Weimaraner came over and licked my hand. “See you around, Martin. Thanks.”

“It is nothing,” he said. But you know, it was.

END

———————–

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Lesson time

November 6, 2017 Comments Off on Lesson time

When you get all excited and pumped about schooling the Austrians on the finer points of beatdown riding, it is important to follow the One Rule: Don’t be late.

The ride went off at 9:30 but at 9:00 I was just waking up, you know, that panicked “fuck” feeling when you’re going to miss a ride and you do the hammer math that calculates no matter how hard you hammer you aren’t going to make it. I was disappointed until I got underway at ten and my legs felt like jet-lead, heavy as concrete, a nice combo of biorhythms doing the fandango and having woken up at 1:30 and not nodding off again until half past three.

The day was cold and overcast and I meticulously retraced my route from the day before, figuring I’d meet up with someone somewhere, but meticulous turned to sloppy AF and soon enough I was lost leaving town. That’s when I followed my Wayfinding Rule Number One: If you can choose between flat, down, and up, always choose up.

Off Thalianstrasse I hooked a left up a formidable-looking bump called Johann Staud Strasse, and it went up hard, but since there aren’t any big hills in Vienna I knew it would end soon. It did, but not “soon.” It climbed for a couple of miles, with the last half-mile incredibly steep, and most of the entire route ensconced in the forest with carpets of  orange and yellow leaves littering the road. I got passed by two cars in half an hour.

On the descent I heard my brakes making funny noises because there was hardly any brake pad left, front or back. I recalled a couple of Sundays ago when Joey Cooney was behind me making smartass remarks about my worn-down brakes and I how I’d gone out of my way not to replace them JUST BECAUSE. The descent was screaming, hairy, twisty, and skinning the last shreds of carbon off the pads, but I didn’t dare use them full gas because that might trash my full carbon 100% all carbon rims which were made of pure carbon and nothing but carbon and if you have to choose between rims and a cracked skull, that’s easy.

At the bottom I made some wrong turns, proving that no matter how closely you study the map you will always go the wrong way when there’s a choice, and after a couple of kilometers I stopped to read a bus stop map at the very moment a cyclist whizzed by. I chased him down and asked where I was.

“In Austria,” he replied, helpfully.

“Where does this road go?”

“Where would you like it to go?” he asked. I was learning that Austrians are dialectical rather than didactic.

“I’m trying to get in two or three hours and want to end up in Wien.”

“Ah,” he said, and pulled over. Then he gave me very explicit directions, repeated them slowly three times, and watched my blank stare as I tried to repeat the impossible place name of “Tulbingerkogel.” He nodded sadly, I thanked him, and continued on.

There was one small climb to get to the top of the unpronounceable Tulbingerkogel, then an infinite downhill on perfectly paved roads that twisted and rushed to the river’s floodplain, and from there it was an easy 10k to the city of Tulln an der Donau. I found the bike path and no sooner had I gotten on it than I spied a chunky dude in an ancient Gerolsteiner kit up ahead.

I didn’t want to chase him and pass him but I didn’t want him dangling out ahead forever, either, so after a couple of km I rolled slowly by, slapped my ass in the universal biker speak of “grab my wheel” and started to roll. He was about my age and had that flatland hammer look to him.

The bike path along the Donau is flat fucking amazing. The river is so beautiful and the path is paved like the autobahn with zero traffic. There was a pretty solid headwind and it was slightly uphill, but with Walter on my wheel it was easy to put my head down and pound. The only problem of course is that I didn’t know how far Tulln was from Wien (hint: 50km), and after about an hour I was completely shot.

Walter pulled up alongside me. “Thank you for the excellent pacemaking! Where are you going?”

“I don’t really know,” I said. “Where are we?”

“On the Donau,” he said helpfully. And then more helpfully, “Let me show you how to get into Wien from here.” I was wrecked from the wind and the pace and he was pretty pooped just sitting on, so we had a great time going slowly and talking. Cycling is the world’s best friend maker. First you try to beat the shit out of the other person, then they try to beat the shit out of you, then you trade names and have a great friendly chat.

Walter dropped me off so that there was no way I could get lost, which I promptly did despite knowing the city like the back of my hand. In retrospect, I hope I never have to pick the back of my hand out of a lineup. The forecast for tomorrow is rain with a 100% chance of exhausted legs. So it will be my day off, a good time to replace my carbon brakes, do some laundry, and explore the city some more, this time on foot.


Touristy write-up of the A&O Hotel Hostel, or home for wayward hostel youth:

Our nightly rate was about $80 for two people in a tiny broom closet with a double bed. That’s a crazy good price for Vienna as long as you’re not one of those people for whom luxury is an external thing. If a big part of your trip is name dropping when you get back home, this probably isn’t the place for you, as it’s the kind of name that, when you drop it, lands on your foot like a brick.

Anyway, I took a bunch of photos and put little descriptions in them. A&O has two hostel hotels in Vienna, one downtown and one in Stadthalle. We stayed in Stadthalle which is a lot quieter than downtown, with only 3.2 screaming drunken fistfights per night out on the sidewalk as opposed to 4.8 downtown. As I mentioned before, the deal of the century is the breakfast buffet, but there’s actually a better way to eat than that for even less. More about that later.

END

———————–

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Cheap and tiny and all-you-can-eat

November 5, 2017 Comments Off on Cheap and tiny and all-you-can-eat

“See you tomorrow,” I said to the dude whose name I didn’t catch. He had just pointed out the meeting spot for the Sunday beatdown ride, which goes off in Vienna at 9:30 at the Lion’s Bridge.

I promptly got lost the second I turned off the Donau Insel bike path, but didn’t care. The more lost I got, the better I’d find my away around the next time, and the next time was going to be tomorrow. I had left the A&O Hostel Hotel at 11:15, quite a bit later than the 8:00 start I’d planned.

They don’t call them youth hostels anymore because someone in the marketing department realized that youth weren’t the only people looking for clean sheets, a hot shower, and a roof that didn’t cost a fortune. My son Woodrow and I stayed at the A&O in Weimar and Berlin when we biked across Germany a few summers ago, and a third of the guests were way, way past youth.

Still, that means that two-thirds of the clientele are kids and the best thing about A&O, or the worst, is that it’s jam packed with kids, you know, people under thirty. If you’ve ever had breakfast in Europe you know the drill. Old people mumbling into their coffee, grumpily previewing the day’s disasters in the paper, and counting the hours until the weekend. If they’re tourists, they’re whining about the exchange rate.

At the A&O all-you-can-eat-for-six-euros breakfast, it’s a whole other deal. Young people, when they finally get up, are chattering, laughing, joking with massive hangovers, slamming food with the hollow leg of youth, guffawing about the condoms in the hallway, and noisily planning the day, which in Vienna means waltzing around town until beer-thirty, that is, anytime after lunch. Being around all those young people makes me feel old AF, but it makes me happy, too. I ate my third breakfast, stuffed my pockets with bananas and apples, and got ready for the ride.

It was a stunning fall day in Vienna and I headed west. I’d spent hours studying my m-app, and before long I was going uphill, destination Wiener Wald. Before I got far I decided I needed air and stopped at a bike shop. They aired me up and put some carbon grease on my seat post and chattered at me like crazy. I nodded a lot.

“Where do the group rides start from?” I asked.

“You don’t want to go on them,” said the mechanic, eyeing me.

“Why not?”

“They ride very quickly, many racers, and they will drop you. They ride very fast until no one is left.”

“Well, I’ve taught the Austrians how to play Mozart and downhill ski, might as well teach them how to ride bikes.

The guy didn’t think that was very funny. “Don’t worry, you can find many sporty riders in the Wiener Wald, where you are going.”

I ended up ascending a beautiful cobbled climb called Hohenstrasse, it went on for a couple of kilometers and at the top there was a gorgeous overlook onto Vienna. A cyclist was coming the other way so I hailed him.

“Where does this road go?”

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“I don’t care. This is my first day here.”

“You can go down the cobbles and turn left. Then there is some very good climbing.”

I followed his directions and made a wrong turn somewhere but didn’t care except that it was going south and eventually I needed to go east to get back to Vienna. I rode for a long time until, coming round a bend, I saw a pack of about seven guys drilling it. I did a u-turn and started sprinting because they were coming fast.

I latched on as they took turns smashing on the front. They were in their 30s and 40s and were flying. I was so happy, tucked in on the back, less than an hour and a half into my ride and already hooked up with a bunch of smashers. Given the time of day and the pace and the direction I figured they were wrapping it up, and I sat on the back as we motored. I was really impressed with the bike handling. They rode so tightly despite the crazy close quarters, the occasional passing car, the road furniture, and the constantly twisting road.

I don’t know what happiness is, but slamming the eleven on a gorgeous fall day in the hills outside Vienna with a bunch of motorheads just a few hours after touching down is pretty close.

We got back into Vienna and wound up on the Donau bike path. The river was so beautiful, and there were bikers everywhere. No one had said a word to me, so I rolled up to one of the guys. “Is this a daily ride?”

“No, only weekends. Where are you from?”

“California.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Teaching the Austrians how to play Mozart, ski, and ride bikes.”

“I think you will be the student.”

“Yeah, you guys were flying.”

“We were finishing the ride and going slow. If you come tomorrow you will see flying. It is a day for climbing. Perhaps you will find it more difficult than today.”

“Can I bring my hidden motor?”

“If you think it will help.”

“What about my EPO?”

“If you think it will help.”

“What about my humor pills? I can give them away before the ride.”

The dude never smiled. “We Austrians do not joke so much.”

I peeled off and lost my way back to the hostel youths. I figured it was time to start getting my excuses in order.


Below are some Wanky Travel Tips for Vienna as well as a Wanky Food and Lodging Review

  1. The best time to travel to Vienna is anytime. It is one of the most awesome places on earth.
  2. I boxed my bike and it arrived unharmed. Only the left shifter was pushed inside a tad.
  3. Viennese aren’t overly friendly but they are super curious, like cats. If you are walking around with a big box they will stare at it like crazy.
  4. A&O Hostel Hotel: Big chain. Very cheap, about 40 Euros/night. Rooms are crazy tiny, which is boss in winter because they are toasty. Don’t expect to fit a lot of stuff in your room. Breakfasts are a killer bargain, six Euros in a city where a cup of coffee easily costs two. Same menu every day but who cares if you’re a biker. Quantity, solid food and good coffee. Buffet has cereals, boiled eggs, coffee/juice, cheese, salami, several kinds of rolls, bread, yogurt, and butter. Gets boring after a few days but who cares? You’re here to ride, and ride long, and ride hard, not have your taste buds titillated.
  5. Andy & Mike’s: Restaurant on the corner of Hutteldorferstrasse and Lerchenfelder Gurtel. Ten percent discount if you can pronounce either street. Fantastic cappuccino. For dinner I had spaghetti with cream sauce and stuff, meatless, and a veggie soup with bread. Yasuko had spaghetti with cream sauce and ham and a fantastic caprese salad. Everything was fresh and gobsmacking good.
  6. Josef Brot: Yasuko and Hans lunched here; it’s at Wien Mitte station and was packed and “oshare,” which in Japanese means “fashionable” or “don’t let Seth in.” I can’t vouch for the food which she said was the best Eggs Benedict ever, but she brought me a loaf of bread for post-ride nutrition and it was black bread with nuts and whole grains and five minutes after eating the loaf I hit the toilet harder than a bunker buster. Unbelievable tasting bread and cleans your intestinal tract like a Roto-Rooter.
  7. Random Turkish Kebab Shop: This is just up the street from the hostel youths, and we both ordered the falafel plate with rice. It came with four honking spicy falafel, yogurt, some kind of thick hot paste, and a beet/tomato/lettuce salad that you also ate with yogurt. It was sooooo good and filling but still really light food; tasted great after all the beating around we’d been doing and only cost 16 Euros.
  8. Wien Travel Tip: Bring crazy comfy walking shoes. It’s the most walkable city on earth.
  9. Wien Travel Tip: Get a weekend public transport pass and you can use the streetcars, train, and subway super cheap.
  10. Wien Biking Tip: There are bike shops everywhere, throughout town and also along the Donau Insel bike path.
  11. Wien Travel and Biking Tip: Spend a few minutes each day studying a map. On today’s ride I came across three separate people who were completely lost, not including myself, the difference being that they were going to be just as lost tomorrow as they were today, whereas I’m going to be completely lost tomorrow, too, but in a different place.
  12. Wien Biking Tip: Devote part of your riding to just cruising around the city. There is so much to see. I was exclusively in the northwest part and only scratched the surface; never got anywhere near downtown or Prater or Lobau and didn’t explore the Donau Canal Insel. Monday we’re going to rent City Bikes; there are 120+ locations throughout the city.

END

———————–

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Cheap and tiny and all-you-can-eat

November 5, 2017 Comments Off on Cheap and tiny and all-you-can-eat

“See you tomorrow,” I said to the dude whose name I didn’t catch. He had just pointed out the meeting spot for the Sunday beatdown ride, which goes off in Vienna at 9:30 at the Lion’s Bridge.

I promptly got lost the second I turned off the Donau Insel bike path, but didn’t care. The more lost I got, the better I’d find my away around the next time, and the next time was going to be tomorrow. I had left the A&O Hostel Hotel at 11:15, quite a bit later than the 8:00 start I’d planned.

They don’t call them youth hostels anymore because someone in the marketing department realized that youth weren’t the only people looking for clean sheets, a hot shower, and a roof that didn’t cost a fortune. My son Woodrow and I stayed at the A&O in Weimar and Berlin when we biked across Germany a few summers ago, and a third of the guests were way, way past youth.

Still, that means that two-thirds of the clientele are kids and the best thing about A&O, or the worst, is that it’s jam packed with kids, you know, people under thirty. If you’ve ever had breakfast in Europe you know the drill. Old people mumbling into their coffee, grumpily previewing the day’s disasters in the paper, and counting the hours until the weekend. If they’re tourists, they’re whining about the exchange rate.

At the A&O all-you-can-eat-for-six-euros breakfast, it’s a whole other deal. Young people, when they finally get up, are chattering, laughing, joking with massive hangovers, slamming food with the hollow leg of youth, guffawing about the condoms in the hallway, and noisily planning the day, which in Vienna means waltzing around town until beer-thirty, that is, anytime after lunch. Being around all those young people makes me feel old AF, but it makes me happy, too. I ate my third breakfast, stuffed my pockets with bananas and apples, and got ready for the ride.

It was a stunning fall day in Vienna and I headed west. I’d spent hours studying my m-app, and before long I was going uphill, destination Wiener Wald. Before I got far I decided I needed air and stopped at a bike shop. They aired me up and put some carbon grease on my seat post and chattered at me like crazy. I nodded a lot.

“Where do the group rides start from?” I asked.

“You don’t want to go on them,” said the mechanic, eyeing me.

“Why not?”

“They ride very quickly, many racers, and they will drop you. They ride very fast until no one is left.”

“Well, I’ve taught the Austrians how to play Mozart and downhill ski, might as well teach them how to ride bikes.

The guy didn’t think that was very funny. “Don’t worry, you can find many sporty riders in the Wiener Wald, where you are going.”

I ended up ascending a beautiful cobbled climb called Hohenstrasse, it went on for a couple of kilometers and at the top there was a gorgeous overlook onto Vienna. A cyclist was coming the other way so I hailed him.

“Where does this road go?”

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“I don’t care. This is my first day here.”

“You can go down the cobbles and turn left. Then there is some very good climbing.”

I followed his directions and made a wrong turn somewhere but didn’t care except that it was going south and eventually I needed to go east to get back to Vienna. I rode for a long time until, coming round a bend, I saw a pack of about seven guys drilling it. I did a u-turn and started sprinting because they were coming fast.

I latched on as they took turns smashing on the front. They were in their 30s and 40s and were flying. I was so happy, tucked in on the back, less than an hour and a half into my ride and already hooked up with a bunch of smashers. Given the time of day and the pace and the direction I figured they were wrapping it up, and I sat on the back as we motored. I was really impressed with the bike handling. They rode so tightly despite the crazy close quarters, the occasional passing car, the road furniture, and the constantly twisting road.

I don’t know what happiness is, but slamming the eleven on a gorgeous fall day in the hills outside Vienna with a bunch of motorheads just a few hours after touching down is pretty close.

We got back into Vienna and wound up on the Donau bike path. The river was so beautiful, and there were bikers everywhere. No one had said a word to me, so I rolled up to one of the guys. “Is this a daily ride?”

“No, only weekends. Where are you from?”

“California.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Teaching the Austrians how to play Mozart, ski, and ride bikes.”

“I think you will be the student.”

“Yeah, you guys were flying.”

“We were finishing the ride and going slow. If you come tomorrow you will see flying. It is a day for climbing. Perhaps you will find it more difficult than today.”

“Can I bring my hidden motor?”

“If you think it will help.”

“What about my EPO?”

“If you think it will help.”

“What about my humor pills? I can give them away before the ride.”

The dude never smiled. “We Austrians do not joke so much.”

I peeled off and lost my way back to the hostel youths. I figured it was time to start getting my excuses in order.


Below are some Wanky Travel Tips for Vienna as well as a Wanky Food and Lodging Review

  1. The best time to travel to Vienna is anytime. It is one of the most awesome places on earth.
  2. I boxed my bike and it arrived unharmed. Only the left shifter was pushed inside a tad.
  3. Viennese aren’t overly friendly but they are super curious, like cats. If you are walking around with a big box they will stare at it like crazy.
  4. A&O Hostel Hotel: Big chain. Very cheap, about 40 Euros/night. Rooms are crazy tiny, which is boss in winter because they are toasty. Don’t expect to fit a lot of stuff in your room. Breakfasts are a killer bargain, six Euros in a city where a cup of coffee easily costs two. Same menu every day but who cares if you’re a biker. Quantity, solid food and good coffee. Buffet has cereals, boiled eggs, coffee/juice, cheese, salami, several kinds of rolls, bread, yogurt, and butter. Gets boring after a few days but who cares? You’re here to ride, and ride long, and ride hard, not have your taste buds titillated.
  5. Andy & Mike’s: Restaurant on the corner of Hutteldorferstrasse and Lerchenfelder Gurtel. Ten percent discount if you can pronounce either street. Fantastic cappuccino. For dinner I had spaghetti with cream sauce and stuff, meatless, and a veggie soup with bread. Yasuko had spaghetti with cream sauce and ham and a fantastic caprese salad. Everything was fresh and gobsmacking good.
  6. Josef Brot: Yasuko and Hans lunched here; it’s at Wien Mitte station and was packed and “oshare,” which in Japanese means “fashionable” or “don’t let Seth in.” I can’t vouch for the food which she said was the best Eggs Benedict ever, but she brought me a loaf of bread for post-ride nutrition and it was black bread with nuts and whole grains and five minutes after eating the loaf I hit the toilet harder than a bunker buster. Unbelievable tasting bread and cleans your intestinal tract like a Roto-Rooter.
  7. Random Turkish Kebab Shop: This is just up the street from the hostel youths, and we both ordered the falafel plate with rice. It came with four honking spicy falafel, yogurt, some kind of thick hot paste, and a beet/tomato/lettuce salad that you also ate with yogurt. It was sooooo good and filling but still really light food; tasted great after all the beating around we’d been doing and only cost 16 Euros.
  8. Wien Travel Tip: Bring crazy comfy walking shoes. It’s the most walkable city on earth.
  9. Wien Travel Tip: Get a weekend public transport pass and you can use the streetcars, train, and subway super cheap.
  10. Wien Biking Tip: There are bike shops everywhere, throughout town and also along the Donau Insel bike path.
  11. Wien Travel and Biking Tip: Spend a few minutes each day studying a map. On today’s ride I came across three separate people who were completely lost, not including myself, the difference being that they were going to be just as lost tomorrow as they were today, whereas I’m going to be completely lost tomorrow, too, but in a different place.
  12. Wien Biking Tip: Devote part of your riding to just cruising around the city. There is so much to see. I was exclusively in the northwest part and only scratched the surface; never got anywhere near downtown or Prater or Lobau and didn’t explore the Donau Canal Insel. Monday we’re going to rent City Bikes; there are 120+ locations throughout the city.

END

———————–

For $2.99 per month you can subscribe to this blog and pay to support what you might otherwise take for free. Click here and select the “subscribe” link in the upper right-hand corner. Thank you!

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