so you're the gringo that's come to challenge His Majesty, uh?

Wah! I sorry for you, my friend. Now seal your fate...

 Bikes. Riding bikes places. Trying to stay on dirt as much as possible.

I stopped on that one trail and looked up (at random) to see someone has built several (specifically 3) platforms quite high up. I climbed up to check them out, but lost motivation when it became obvious that a musette full of tallboys was not an asset when trying to ascend to rickety structures 18' up a rotten limbed Monterey Pine. Anyhow.

So I'd taken some 299mm spokes home from the shop for a project, and after the musette was holding empty tallboys, I decided to take it offa my back to allow it to drip not on me. Of course it dropped off somewheres on the descent. I found that out upon arriving home. It was not a surprise.

The following day was the Full Get Offa Your Ass Moon, so in observance of same I rolled out backtracking my previous trip, hunting the bag. Happy face! It was just inside the gate and not up the hill at all. That opened the door of possible alternate routes slash exploration; a door I stepped through. Well, sort of lifted the bike over and then slithered under meself on account of the barbs, but you understand.

I was on the fat bike, having some personal clown fun and looking for the Good Stuff. Eh. I did find a section of niceness, but the bust factor is high. Then the trail took a turn for the steep and loose. But- how else do you find what you don't already know, right? The fat tyres are a nice bit of equipment for trundling along on questionable surfaces. I hunted and snooped for a ways. When one is solo, there is no fuss; false starts, backtracking, lots of poison oak, fainter and fainter trails that just have to go through, etc. Damned if it didn't get darker the whole while. Darker and fainter and more oak.

Just when despair was nigh- a recognized fence! All of a sudden I knew exactly where I was, and there were open trails ahead of me. That's a sweet relief, I can tell you. On the one hand, it is magical to have such nearby access to remotitude, and on the same hand faint oaky trails in the dark blow. The friendly open trails led me right back home eventually. That section of the peninsula is not comfortable solo in the dark; it's super forested and creepy.


The spokes? They were for the newly gotten Surly Rabbit Hole rim that goes in the Krampus fork to be slung on the Ogre in the interest of trying new things...

What's the 1st thing you do when you get a new fork? You fnord drill holes in the middle!

Well, because there weren't any.

And I wanted a spot to cleanly mount the rack. On account of it is for camping. So I did that, with the riv-nut nut-setter.

Dyno Alfine with the "2 cool 4 drugs" hub shiner. Camo tape rim strip. (thanks, Mr. P!) Silver rim because I have class.

We tested it's capabilities last night. For a wheel born of such circumstance, whose very structural components were literally soaked in cheap beer well prior to actually use...it performed like you'd expect.

Rides like a bike. I'll keep you posted. It's not like it's anything legit. It's only clown fun.