I have assembled the ingredients for the Happy Life, and successfully combined these disparate steps into a coherent and translatable recipe. Prepare to receive instruction:
There it is. Simple, no? That is my favorite corner anywhere, by the way.
I have been spending so much time aboard the fat bike because it suits a bunch of the riding I've been doing. It forgives boozy line choices, sucks up poorly routed sneak-throughs, handles roots and pine cones etcetera hidden by shadows, tracks straight through the chunkiest rock sections and more. I am enamored. But...it is a pig. Changing to the Black Cat SS for the commute was a delight. So light, so responsive, so willing to leap forward. That morning commute through singletrack will put a positive spin right on you.
Simple formula: dirt commute = lasting happiness.
The stem drew me in. Bulbous.
Next, a parking brake caught my eye. It's plastic tubing fixed under the grip with a bolt on the free end which inserts into the gap between squeezed lever and body and held in place upon release of lever to keep the brake engaged. It's not my thing, but it's very well executed. When the brake is squeezed again, it springs out and away immediately.
And this? Der Kaiser (as this former airplane mechanic introduced himself) wanted a longer cage, so he made one. He had dumpster dived the frame in Tucson and this is what he's made of it. I called the other mechanic out of the shop and we marveled. You could see it warmed the Kaiser's heart to have his ingenuity recognized and valued. I enjoy my weekly shift in Monterey. There's more kooks over on that side of things.
I saved my lunch money and spent it on tallboys instead. That's that one spot. I was collecting empties and producing new ones. The ride home? Ripping singletrack. I had to walk up a bunch of hill, but it's a SS so I don't feel anything but fine. Up turns to side turns to down hill.
Finally, you can't teach me, but I can learn the hard way. Depending on others to provide for one's own Happiness is a sure road to Failure.
Fact.
Oh. Yeah, tomorrow is the Easter. While I don't believe in magic and I certainly don't believe that my group's magical theory is grounds for moral supremacy and/or resource appropriation, I do know my kids like to hunt for Eater Eggs. Who doesn't? So, tonight will see me rolling the stone away and riding around a certain section of trails drinking beers and hiding eggs...
There it is. Simple, no? That is my favorite corner anywhere, by the way.
I have been spending so much time aboard the fat bike because it suits a bunch of the riding I've been doing. It forgives boozy line choices, sucks up poorly routed sneak-throughs, handles roots and pine cones etcetera hidden by shadows, tracks straight through the chunkiest rock sections and more. I am enamored. But...it is a pig. Changing to the Black Cat SS for the commute was a delight. So light, so responsive, so willing to leap forward. That morning commute through singletrack will put a positive spin right on you.
Simple formula: dirt commute = lasting happiness.
The stem drew me in. Bulbous.
Next, a parking brake caught my eye. It's plastic tubing fixed under the grip with a bolt on the free end which inserts into the gap between squeezed lever and body and held in place upon release of lever to keep the brake engaged. It's not my thing, but it's very well executed. When the brake is squeezed again, it springs out and away immediately.
And this? Der Kaiser (as this former airplane mechanic introduced himself) wanted a longer cage, so he made one. He had dumpster dived the frame in Tucson and this is what he's made of it. I called the other mechanic out of the shop and we marveled. You could see it warmed the Kaiser's heart to have his ingenuity recognized and valued. I enjoy my weekly shift in Monterey. There's more kooks over on that side of things.
I saved my lunch money and spent it on tallboys instead. That's that one spot. I was collecting empties and producing new ones. The ride home? Ripping singletrack. I had to walk up a bunch of hill, but it's a SS so I don't feel anything but fine. Up turns to side turns to down hill.
Finally, you can't teach me, but I can learn the hard way. Depending on others to provide for one's own Happiness is a sure road to Failure.
Fact.
Oh. Yeah, tomorrow is the Easter. While I don't believe in magic and I certainly don't believe that my group's magical theory is grounds for moral supremacy and/or resource appropriation, I do know my kids like to hunt for Eater Eggs. Who doesn't? So, tonight will see me rolling the stone away and riding around a certain section of trails drinking beers and hiding eggs...
1 comment:
Sounds like a nice cult. What is the application fee?
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