de gustibus non est disputandum

We try to treat everbody right. It's important.

We have just returned from a loop over to Colorado/Utah for some family type recreation. It is inappropriate to share every aspect of one's life, and you jokers (there are ~54 of you, unless somebody double dips) can speculate to your black hearts' content about the nature of things I decline to reveal, via this anonymous medium, fruitlessly. Were you so inclined.


I will say: I hate your Facebook.



It is the mall of the internet; the lowest common denominator. It equals People Magazine for sheer yuckiness. Oh, you'll say it is useful for keeping in touch, but you just like the peeping.

I realize the irony of posting this screed via a weblog.* my flimsy rationale is that this is an anonymousish dead-end of directed (and frequently fictitious! this blog is an alibi) content as opposed to a steaming toll-road of drivel.

I have been called to task (sometimes rightly) for putting names of locations on the computer. When we lived in T________, CO, folks would take you to the secret powder stashes, but they would never tell you where they were. That's an important distinction to my way of thinking.

And even though there was no powder for stashes to be had this trip, that mindset presents itself when I am confronted (via email notification from a sober and impartial 3rd party) with too much posse via the facebook. Specifically the posting of specifics. You know who you are. And no, I am not talking about the recent embryonic journey in Moab. Shamans need to commune with powerful spirits on occasion in order to better bridge the gap between the sacred and the profane.



Also, I may have grown some whiskers.




So. For our last ride of the 2011, the boy and I attempted some old school Fort Ord. Entering the old Stairs Trail, we were happily surprised to find the twisty singletrack has been reinstated! It's been 2 years at least since that area was dozered. A fine, rare feeling to rally sweet singletrack you thought was gone forever. I am sure the proposed horsey park will actually ruin it all permanently soon enough, so if this appeals to you, go get some while the getting is good. The whole of the old timey Friday night singlespeed loops may be happening...it calls for more experimentation. Maybe a reunion of old timey Friday night singlespeed riding?

We met and talked father-son to father-son with G___, a representative of the local IMBA chapter here. A sleek and well-spoken personage. MORCA has some leeway with regard to the trails maintenance (and lay-out/construction!) so I think some...joining...is in order. Though I wouldn't be a member of any club that'd have me.

The highs and the lows. You need that. In the review. The low here being that the preliminary dozer work and ominously piled hay bales at the top of Mud Hen Express were the heralds of further mess making. They graded? the entrance. That delightful off camber rutted section which was juuuuust wrong enough to be interesting is now sedated into a boring fireroadly opening. I was pleased to see the MORCA rep was displeased. Lends some credibility to an otherwise sleek and well-spoken personage.

Anyhow. We're back. Hope you and yours are well. Ride bikes.







*Blogger is attempting to extort dollars from me to post/"store" more photos. My cue is full. Eff them. I will piratize space from old posts I suppose. This blog will be free, for all it's hypocrisy.