for adult intellectuals only

Here is some photos of this last go round. From the camera/phone of M. A. S_____...

Trails to leave town.








We became separated, necessitating a note:





The fire road reveals itself.



Camp life. S_____'s bike with Jet Fire glider.



My bike with Jet Fire glider.



T___'s bike. Same set up as Coe trip.



Wood burning breakfast...


Morning!




Pack it up, pack it in.


I got a knife here in my pocketbook, and I'm gonna cut you up after class!




We'd found an abandoned raft in the strainers, and cut the body away to create the Slippery Stallion. A man's ride. Challenging to keep from spilling your beer whilst in the saddle.


Preparing for the day's swimming.


A welcome and familiar vista. We return triumphantly tomorrrow for another overnight. I hope we can pick up some gliders on the way...

creating a disturbance in your mind

First, a great big HELLO (welcome!) to those of y'all that found this site (at, say for example, 6am) by searching for "big black asses smut pictures" or "how to ride your man if you're fat". I feel better than ever about the internet in general, and strangers in particular.

Secondly,



That there is information you can use. It is packed so full. The style tips alone are gold.

Lastly, we rode some bikes on some trails and then a long hot way on roads (punctuated by stops under bridges to cool our feets and drink our beerses) only to end up on more trails leading to a campout site. That is called "having a Good Time." It was the usual Summer retreat- no pictures cuz I have left my phone at work and I'm not going back in til I have to.

If you were not there, you were square.

And, if you are nominated as Dummy of the Year (again) you know it's because you are not doing this type of thing. Sorry the Truth hurts. For really reals.

I came away from this 90-odd miles in 2 very odd days with some new thoughts. The next time I take the kids out there we are bringing (in addition to a rope swang) several balsa wood gliders, a lighter, 3 BB guns.

fast and loose

Uh huh.



I got a broken face.

Playing with the Truth will do that. Fixed offroad. Night riding with a headlamp? Well, yes. Can't say as I recommend it. The gimme Night Rider that I was handed down did quickly develop charging issues, so I just run what I brung. Can't say as I recommend leading with your chin when dropping in either. That manzanita is real forgiving until it's not. I have scrapes inside my mouth. My gums are scratched?

I'm a grown ass man.

Oh, the humanity

Lady came in today and haggled and haggled and then wanted 10% off for life.

"We're spending a lot of money here. Oh, you can do this. Come on. You can do this. You can. You can do this." A little sing song of avarice. I wanted to slap her so badly.

What? The? F?

No. She wasn't crazy. That would have been much more tolerable.

Tragedy

It has been brought to my attention that the Interbike is to be held in September, such that it would conflict with the White Rim Overnight. Being as how that ride kinda sorta has to be coincidental with the Full Harvest Moon.


Maybe we can reschedule for the Full Beaver Moon, on November 10th? Or something?





And, plus this Tour day France is exciting! I have been to the mountain and come back jaded, but Thor(!) and my little Frenchman T. Voeckler are really turning 2011 into some believable fun. Hot bike on bike action and all that.

what technique are you using?

I rode my squishy bike in the woods today. It was hard to do at first. My mind was playing tricks on me. I could not be present for the riding- too much other thinking going on.

One of the draws of riding bicycles, for me, is the quiet. Thoughts not having to do with line choice or gear selection (if I'm really on, that's not a conscious factor; or if I'm on a single speed, then it's not. Well obviously. Or if I'm on a fixed wheel bicycle. Clearly, then, too)...extraneous thinking ceases. For those moments, there is no thing but a flow.


I like that.

what every parent NEEDS to know

I had a fine time at the semi-annual Windjammer Classic Invitational Bicycle Race and Scrimshaw Competition.



Beginning at Brady's with a shot of Old Crow and a cold can of beer while some gal from the hairdresser's next door wanders over in her plastic hair bag and gown for a drink while her hair gets did...boded well. Drinking beers and riding hard, both on and off-road, is where it's at. If you're into fun.

I totally won the stage from Branciforte to Casalegno's.

Of course, things will deteriorate. Chasing all the suspension laden fat bikes down the singletrack was exciting! The creeping sundown under the redwoods only added to the over-all sense of urgency.

Then Captain Jim Skinner began the jukebox ABBA.



Favorite moment? The super tanked yahoo at the table to our left, who yelled "Hey biker-guys?! You lose!" as he gave us not 1, but, 2 hearty thumbs' down.


Also, the Full Thunder Moon did not appear according to schedule. Oh sure, it put in a token appearance for the Windjammer- over the Pacific as we sat and ate our greasy drive-in veggie burger/onion rings on a bench overlooking the ocean- but the main event having been scheduled for last night was determinedly overcast. After shining like a beacon all day, the sky became increasingly cloudy as the FNG (fuckingnewguy) and meself (where were you?) dropped that sweet singletrack in the increasing gloom of sprinkly fog.

I will limit my editorializing to this:People. Drink lots of water. I have seldom witnessed such a complete and instant crumble as that shown by the FNG. Heroic and hilarious. Dehydration is a killer. But, he never complained. Not one time. Despite several (and escalating) outbursts of frustration with his form/endurance/clumsiness, he never complained. I listened to it all while knowing that I still had to ride up and over after all that.



Not that I'm complaining.

relive the awful drama

Sorry I almost crashed your boyfriend. I get carried away. It was done out of love.




Doin it and doin it and doin it. Well? I took the truck to Parker Flats, got out, saddled up, and rolled over to Toro Park in an attempt to decipher that area.

It was funny peculiar being so fresh at all the familiar loop points. Looking towards Toro...



No stops except to hide a cache along the way. I did not know what kind of time frame to expect...


On entering Toro Park, I came across the Specialized circus. (Why do I not know about this?) Must have been a press event? Lots of folks from overseas. I found out quick the way not to climb, and then climbed according to their routing to avoid downhill riders.

Climb climb climb. I climbed until I knew I was going to blow my time allotment for the day, and, disappointed, turned around to head down to return to my obligations. Not even close to the top out at 1,800'. I hid some beers behind an oak for next time. Then I got a flat. The only person to ask if I needed anything was an Aussie (good on yer, mate?) All the other "PROfessionals" passed by as though a bike hung in a tree missing it's front wheel is not a cause for concern/consideration/a glance. Am I the only one who follows the cyclist's code ( always ask a fellow who is down if he needs anything is a portion)? Aside from the Aussie, I mean.

Always ask a fellow who is down if he needs anything.

I missed Anza to head back to the close entrance to the Ord. I ended up entering at Terrace Creek Trailhead, which used to just be a dirt pull-out and we IDed it as the CHP side, but is now a double winged paved parking arena complete with fancy bathrooms?!? It's been years since I been over there, and it spooked me. The climb up was familiar enough, but I soon began taking trails which felt like one thing but were revealed as another. They headed the right direction, only to arc back and deposit me where I'd begun. My freshness had faded. The sand is getting deep out there as Summer waxes.

I was lost in Fort Ord. 2 times today!

That's a bitter pill. Lost, tired, and flaking on an appointment because of it. Not the best mindset for (anything) enjoying a ride. Eventually, the way was clear to me, and I made the best I could of it.

Anyhow, Toro is in bounds now. I would really like to step this up to transition into scoping the backside for camping opportunities, if nothing else. I'm thinking Toro is too cow-pocked and straight down the fall line for cross bikes to be the best tool. This is not ideal, because getting there without cars is important. Seems like more squish (however you get it) is needed. I don't especially love that.

it's the motion

It is with heavy livers and achy heads that we send one of our submarines to the northerly trails of Santa Rosa...



Look at him. Wincing like a little girl. That's how I'll always remember M___. Quick would you rather: crash into a thicket of poison oak at speed or have a hematoma?

remember Sleaze Otter V?

M___'s answer was that he'd rather take off all his clothes and rub it on his balls while eating some as well. That seems a little hyperbolic, but he is the one with the semi-permanently crimped side, so I'll limit my comment to "Try breaking a rib, bitch." and hand him a 1/2 drunk beer.


Good on you, Brother. I hope the wine industry gives you just as many licks as the bike industry. I hope to darken your door and poopoo your trails sooner rather than later.

In the meantime, here is David Lindley as recommended by someone from the interwebs summing it up for all of us...

come and see a fat, old man sometime

D_____ and his buddy Q___ ventured out at dusk to see the original True Grit at the outdoor Forest Theatre. Bonfires at the corners of the stage and coozied beers in your hand. It's juice pouch if you're nasty.

Heading up the hill toward the dirt connector in the foggy twilight was sublime. I almost took a picture then. Wished I had a camera capable of catching those 2 bumbling their way down, across, and up on the way home; stiff, cold, and in the dark. Dark. Little headlamps pushing short cones into the fog, at nipple height to a one eyed fat man. But still- willing.

It makes me fog up meself, watching them pick up that torch. Westerns? The Duke? Filmed in Ridgeway? (D tripped on the location of the film when I explained it's nearness to his accustomed winter retreat- the Mountain Belle hut above Ouray.) But mostly the bumbling home in the dark aboard the bicycle.

Willing.



If you got 5:48 to spare, and you're willing, I think these 2 videos are ones to watch.



By now you know how we feel about Ry Cooder.

your backup plan

image courtesy of Golden Age Comic Book stories.
Happy Independence Day, America! I don't care what they say- you're alright.






J______ and meself celebrated with some Secret Boys action.

Plan 1 details heading straight for the New Stairs and rope swang- GO! We were feeling so good, we decided to head for the Caprock and see if these rumors are true...

Yes. There is a bench there now. I'm torn between hating any changes (and certainly any "progress") and appreciating the assumption that this bench legitimizes the spot enough to guarantee no more surprise bulldozerings. I mean, it's chained to the rock!


It is a nice place for a pause for the cause.


BACK!...so here it is again. I hope you understand. J riding the singletrack. He rode the whole of Mudhen Express with no help from me whatsoever. Out and back. Whoopdedoos and rutted entrance.

POW!






We took Barloy over to Blair Witch and down. There was a small, pencil thickness California Gopher Snake impersonating a stick on the fire road. We checked it out. Then we took Henniken's Ranch Road up to the old used to be trail end for the Rattlesnake Trail. We don't ride that anymore, and there's a good reason why not. It became epidemically poison oaked 3/4 of the way up. Of course, we pushed through- how are you gonna turn back then?! Throw good hike-a-biking after bad? Not on the 4th. Not on the 4th.

Our reward for persevering?


Horny Toad.

Then we checked under every piece of plywood we came across. And some we went well out of our way to reach, too. No good rattlers, but under the notorious piece that housed them there was a 4foot(!) gopher snake. I don't know how to say it, but seeing those snakes straight up pretend to be rattlers- to the point of pulling their head in to mimic the deadly triangular shape, and wiggling their tail- is a tough evolutionary pill to swallow. That ish is amazing.



J wanted to hit the stairs/rope swang again.


So we did. Look at that oak. Mighty, mighty. I don't understand how these can be on the table for developing a fucking bus depot when there are literally acres of blighted concrete parking lots cracking and filling up with weeds near the MPC end of Fort Ord. These county supervisors we got are dooooooooouchebags.


Break.





America.

expand your horizons

I lose sight of how insular this world of bicycling can be. We all have our little corners of intense focus, I guess. A rep came into the shop yesterday and we were talking about our ridings, and he had no idea that there was such a thing as "bikepacking". I was surprised, but I shouldn't have been- he reps road items and his interest is deep but specific. I told him a little about things, but he glazed over so I stopped.

I can't see your eyes glaze over, so I continue. You prolly already follow this stuff since you must share some of my intense, uh, focus...but if not, HOLY ADVENTURE:

Epic Eric, and that's no lie.

Mike Curiak returning to Alaska in the Summertimes.

Man, those guys are doing it and doing it and doing it well.