in the interest of clarity

Full disclosure. Fully.

Apprentice mechanic assumes he knows what he is about and takes on projects above his skill level. Takes them on on his own.  Let's say, for example, it is  a ~$9,000 (US dollars) carbon on carbon on carbon road bike with carbon. Predictably, things turn to shit. Apprentice mechanic is gently taken to task by experienced mechanic (which, I am amazed at the gentleness shown) and apprentice mechanic attempts to blame it on the torque spec. This is proven to be a mistake on the part of the apprentice in confounding 2 different steps/bits of hardware. Additionally, apprentice mechanic does not appreciate the actual feel of a torque spec, the elbow torque if you will, so- sure, 300in/lb seems reasonable for an aluminum dustcap in a carbon crank. Etc.

If I were managing this...not clown, but say carnie and feel fair...there would be at least a moratorium on high end jobs. A gut check on the level of competence required prior to working again on high end jobs, and (depending on the attitude exhibited*) a more forceful discussion regarding the importance of maintaining  PROfessional standards at a shop which accepts pay for work.

But. I just work here.




*late edit: apprentice had an appropriately humble response. Good. Lessons learned for all my friends!

visit the Genuine

Or, you know, you could just move on in. It is Tour day France time on planet Earth, and that means the "fans" come out of the woodwork, from under their rocks, and in from the cold. Standing in the bike shop becomes even more the front row seat in the circus of weird obsessions.

I used to really get invested in the Tour, but now I don't even know who's riding. Radio controlled cyborg racing is not interesting to me. Regardless, for the next several weeks it will be a hot topic. People who don't ride will come in and yak it up about their favorite show, and want to get into detailed conversations regarding the merits of ever more complicated shiny bits that they want to consume...but not ride on.

I will sell anybody any number of whatever they want, it's their free choice. I will not, however, pretend to be enthused about...the collectibles. For example, a wood laminate road bike using electronic components that have to be connected to the internet for adjustment (NOT KIDDING). For the sake of what? bragging rights? Who's got the stupidest expensive bauble? I understand there is no inherent Right or Wrong in these toys with which we play. They are just stuff. Some of these toys are tools better suited to make Happiness than others, but I suppose even in that there are differences in kind. Do you enjoy tinkering with stuff that is so finicky/battery dependent/fragile, or do you want to be outside pedalling? You can be sure of which I'd rather do.

There are a lot of folks who just want to have a "nice" bike, as opposed go on a nice ride. People who poopoo the idea of climbing up that one hill because it would be the long commute (when it might add 20 minutes max, if you were sloooooow, but would add 20 times the fun if you were to consider it against the fucking bike path strewn with dogs on leashes, children on leashes, and aerobic joggers on headphones, etc). People who want to debate the merits of tire X vs tyre Y, when they aren't going to ride either of them, just put them on the bike on their wall. People who want yet another bike they won't ride. Collectors, having things. Yuck and gross.

The Tour brings all of these enthusiastic clowns into the tent.



Le sigh. Cycling is not a show on TV (or some hack website) and it is not something you have, it is something you do. Get out and do it. If you must be a collector, collect as many kick ass moments as you can. Collect skids, collect perfectly weighted turns, collect suffering.

then light your torches and go!

 This internet, jeez. It is winter here, and for many of us that means decreased ass kicking in the out of doors. Kick ass adventures are some celebratory shit, maing! That's where you get your Good Feelings from. That is not to be taken lightly. I'm not talking about some SAD bullshit, either, I'm talking about the source of some postive, creationary, eff you en.

When folks are not having some type of Good Feelings on a regular basis, they begin to feel mean. And lowdown. They begin some rants on the internet? Somebody might be upset...for instance, that carbon is so heavily used in the bike industry on account of they feel it is a creaky, breakable and expensive sleight of hand. Prolly mostly that it is so damned expensive. Or, maybe mostly that they weigh nearly 200lbs and ride the shit out of their stuff (daily) rather than polish it and wait for the fucking Saturday ride to race their Cat 5 buddies to the 1.5 hour mark, only to replace it next year with the version 2.0 because if it's new, it's better, right? Clearly.

Perhaps it's these new guys, the ones all fired up about fat bikes, that are the next bogeymen. I hate the hipster infusion of (recent everything) "colour ways" and their co-option of classic men's fashion into a stale, jokey uniform of moustaches and whatever the hell they call that haircut from the 1920s...but a fixed gear bicycle is a joy forever and classic men's wear is classic because it works. Those are stone cold facts. Hey, a fat bike is just a fun time, it's not the fair target for hating the new school. I remember when.

Or, somebody might feel like giant bike company A,B, or C has instigated the complete ruination of cycling via _____________. A legitimate concern, I'll grant you. Particularly in this era of "flagship" and "elite" brand-only stores. The soul can leak out thru that hole real easy, but.

All a these customers coming in to the shop with their me-too and their give-me-a-deal might find their way to becoming in love with cycling for the simple sake of pedaling along on a kick ass adventure with whatever gear(s) on whatever surface. They might. The benefit of the doubt could usefully be given at first glance, on a temporary basis, on a case-by-case tip. It wouldn't hurt. And if they don't? fuck 'em. Sell homeboy that geegaw with a smile.

Look. Nobody likes to have their scene turned out. To see this bastion of hardness softened up and divided. There was a recent interview in Dirt Rag with Missy Giove (remember?) that had a relevant bit about having the mtb race scene invaded by athaletes. People were bummed that genetic freaks had come calling to their fun thing and turned it into something....mmm...less pure. Folks had been attending the mtb county fair because they loved it and it was it's own reward, and then the money and the Circus had come to town, and it was clowns to the back of the train.

None of that can make actually riding any less rad than it ever was. Let the fools and their shysters have each other. We have bikes. To the limited and self-selected audience reading these words: If you are not riding, you are blowing it. I personally don't see how that happens, as the riding is required or I start getting mean and lowdown my ownself, but I see that it does, so. Shut up and ride.

 Maybe take a ride to your local graveyard and drink a beer near a mausoleum. It's quiet. Well, it might be on your way home from work.





And, as regards the recent (and welcome!) wet weather, I remounted the fendered and fixed Schwinn Le Tour; an old and trusted friend. Some 32s and a hella raked fork swing me to and from my work and garden path type trail use. And, yes, that fender line is tight.

 None of my experience with technical rainwear has been positive, so I'll let y'all in on a secret you won't like: Carradice riding poncho and Filson tincloth chaps:

Well, I said you wouldn't like it. Yes it's heavy, yes it suffers if there's crazy winds or one is descending a col whilst being chased down by the peloton, and yes it actually keeps you dry and comfortable. I don't use this combo on short "training" rides, I use it for a day(s) on the bike. For short stuff that sees a warm shower and dry bed soon, I'll either use more aero "normal" gear or just trust in wool to keep me warm while wet. For long stuff, or camping, you can't be too dry or comfortable. I know you will, but...don't kid yourself.

there was a man who knew how to hit bottom!

Of interest: where there's smoke there's fire, and the valley is full up from this ride cancelling Big Sur Fire. What a kick in the teeth. Ride? Modified/maybe cancelled.

And as far as lots of smoke and mirrors- here is the Sinyard "apology" if you are into such things. I will comment this far: bullshit. If this were a sincere mistake, then it were required for the big red S to retroactively unfuck the other little people they've legalistically ramrodded. Closest to my heart being Revelate Designs, nee Epic Bags, one dude in Alaska making bags in his garage who (as far as I can tell) started the frame-bag phenomenon. And it is a phenomenon. And if Sinyard actually cared, he'd cease and desist the corporate Grinchyness. Stink, Stank, Stunk.


And, if you have the issues with the hip:

He's using a lacrosse ball, and I'd recommend (starting, anyways) using a tennis ball as it is softer and easier on your tender beginner self. You can roll over onto the affected side and weight the ball further around to the front into your Tensor Fasciae Latae muscle also. Play with it, noticing the tender spots and focus on them. It gets easier and less painful with repetition. Get a foam roller and roll that IT band and Vastus Lateralis. Or else.

have some class

So, I may or may not have sent off a curse word laden email in a fit of pique. If I did- in my defense, I am both subject to fits of pique (sorry) and kind of an asshole (that's how it is).

If you don't know now you know.

The 19th century speaks to the heart of the matter: "If you find you are becoming angry in a conversation, either turn to another subject or keep silence. You may utter, in the heat of passion, words which you would never use in a calmer moment, and which you would bitterly repent when they were once said."

What would be a better way of handling things? To nah pop nah style, a strickly roots:

an ting.

this is me being patient

People come in to the bike shop and they ask questions. I encourage this practice. We've all been to the shop that's too nice to talk to and, frankly, it sucks. Lots of PRO egos running around in amateur bodies. I try to be welcoming without seeming (or being) insincere. It really gets under my skin when people ask me questions and then interrupt before I can get through my answer. It's not that they see the end of the sentence coming, either- it's that they don't give a shit what I'm saying. Which is fine, but then why ask the question at all in that case?

This happened several times today, multiply and with different customers.

Also, if you are a team rider sponsored by a shop, you should come in respectfully and politely. !!You are NOT a retail customer!! You should be aware of this, and behave accordingly. Any interactions with you will be immediately dropped if a paying customer comes in. Your needs are secondary at best. You do not merit special attention, much less special treatment and I don't care even a little bit that you were "riding with Levi" the other day. Taking a bike off the sales floor for a 45minute "demo" is well past unacceptable, it is flabbergastingly beyond the pale.

Your part in the arrangement is representing the shop as a positive ambassador, hopefully contributing to the shop culture and ideally bringing more business. Your part is not to suck the staff's time and labor along with grubbing for every deal you can get while throwing around a PRO vibe that makes you look like a cunt and the shop like it supports cunts.

Furthermo- oh. Yes, please continue with what you were saying.

meanwhile...from a secret HQ, somewhere over your head

Aside from all the observations regarding corporate BULLSHIT (at a bike shop?!?) at work(s)- and there are a lot I could make, at this point- I will confine it to addressing the absurdest of "issues". To wit: the way to ride to work is the most direct route.

That is a false statement.

A way to ride to work is the most direct route. The way, in my opinion, is the funnest way. Taking into account your time limitations, and your laziness, and your lack of any substantial understanding of the radness of actually riding (you know, versus talking about riding), and your weather concerns, and your whatever sort of physical limitation it is, and your deep seated need for any ride to be a scheduled and regimented training ride, and your sand bagging, the point stands. If you got a opportunity to ride then you got a opportunity for a real Good Time. Cram some fun in there, and you won't have to fill that void with a bad attitude.

too itching for action to look for it (I'll make it where I am)

Details? When you've taken off your glasses because they're spattered in sweat from the extended climbing and you're coasting so fast tears blur your vision. When your cap and jersey and helmet straps are caked in silt. Salt? When one ride is so climb sweat filled that your legs cramp on alternate down strokes (left, right, left, right) but on the next and climbier sweatier ride they don't. When you laugh out loud with the joy of the moment. When you curse the "friend" who brought you to such a breaking point.

That's some reasons why and what for and how come.

I snicker when people here talk to me about "the grade". Seriously? That climb is so trafficked and thankless and hot and exposed, with no descent worth mentioning. The grade. Tell me about some shaded, one-laned, backroad or a hike-a-bike to illicit singletrack if you wanna talk about riding. For real. Shit.

People come into the shop (or wherever) and talk about being a local. Do they do that where you are? I talked to some old gal who has been here "forever" and she throws a attitude after asking (and I suppose I should have seen it coming) how long we've lived here. Lady, I've lived here for 13 years now. (whoa) My kids go to school here. You "guess" that's local? I roll my eyes. What do these "locals" know about that one section between the 2 East-West ridges where it feels all quiet and it's always still (always) and a mountain lion is maybe- it feels likely- behind the next 180* twist around another fallen Monterey Pine? Or the single perfect line through the broken asphalt screaming down the North facing back way into town while the road, as it Ts, leapfrogs toward you so fast it's as though your vision was frame by frame? Oh. This used to be a bookstore.

We used to live in a small mountain town in Colorado, at 8,750'. I rode a lot of bikes there. I used to live in a small desert town in Eastern Utah. I rode a lot of bikes there, too. These places were/are hard to get to, hard to get by in, and hard in which to ride. We were young and thought ____ __ ___ ___ the ______s. We had a lot of locals only attitude our ownselfs. We were full of shit.

I don't care what you ride. I don't care where you ride*. I care that you ride.























*If you live in Santa Cruz, or Telluride, or Moab...you might _____ that you ha[ve] all the answer_. I don't care that you've gotten tired of your backyard, and no one knows the goods anyhow because they're from somewhere not where you are at the moment or have been all your damn life... Look how good it is. Go find some nook or cranny unknown to you and check it out. You might rediscover how kickass your riding is. This could apply somewheres else, too, if you are tired of your local. Prolly not if you dig riding dumb stuff like Laureles Grade, though.

my tongue is not rubber

Like Albert says,




Whoo! Crosscut sawyer training weekend. Yes, I matriculated. One of these fine days you'll pass me on the trail and you will thank me and I will not yell at you to "Get offa my lawn" and peace will reign. We got to drive out Indians Road to the old Girl Scout Camp. I hadn't been up there, and it's worth knowing about and revisiting. Next time we can go see the waterfall.

The VWA says it is "an eating club with a hiking problem", and it is True. There were a lot of stops pulled out at the potluck. I have to up my game. A coolish 6er of High Life and some sesame sticks is not cutting it. Some good folks out there in the woods. If you have a notion to do some trail work (you should do it) and if you need some direction, they are worth checking.

And speaking of cutting it, I will spare you the "I'm a lumberjack..." but not the "Bicycle Repairman."





And, plus, the Full Pink Moon is Friday next. How's about a little (gentle, easy, slow) Full Moon Ride? We can save the Coes and the Esalens for when I'm peaking.

wheeling and high rolling

To my Brothers ____, _____, the M_____ ___ing ___ ____ and my Sisters ____, ___ and my Mrs...

Thank Yous, Sorrys, May Is, Letss.



What I don't know about shoulders, now I am learning. I can consider this an opportunity to restructure my life and step up with a recovery based on rest, ice, my herbals, diet, yoga, bodywork, and conditioning or I can mope around being grumpy because I hurt and can't do what I want.



So far, I feel both options hold their appeal. My allegiance is shaky. If you have not been seriously injured recently (Be glad!) you have forgotten how...unsettling it is. When your anatomy is not arranged the same as it was yesterday (you know, how it's supposed to be), it makes you feel like puking- clammy, sweaty sit down guaranteed. That was the very morning after the crash, getting up and going to the ER, and though the nausea has gone, the feeling of discomfort in my own skin remains. As the swelling subsides, it becomes easier. Familiarity with my new range of possible shoulder positions increases that limited and Injury-governed sphere thru the very fact of reaching out for that limit. Won't be no $6 million, but I'm a be better faster and stronger.

In the mean time it's a bitch.

Change is hard. If I'm forced to throw out the baby, at least I can throw out the the bath water. I axed innocent bystander #2 if this were not a wake up call on the one hand. He feels "the city of moterey booby trapped [my] ass. Haha." This, since "we seem to be fine riding techy trails and dealing with traffic." Anyhow, it's important to keep a sense of decorum. Respect where it is due, etc.

Now I will single-handedly (see?) turn this website into a all about my injury soap opera. Yay! Boo.





Also: I thought it was funny to hear about Customer ______, who came in to the shop and asked employee ____ if he raced. Upon being told that the employee did not race, the customer said, "That's OK. Don't feel bad. Not everyone is good at competition." If that sounds like someone you know, then it probably is. This guy's rides are hardcore training sessions. Not just stupid fun. Training is cool if you love it. Racing is a tough Good Time! But if it's just a way for you to be a jerk...a fast jerk is still a jerk.

we come out from the woods

Put in the cassette and push play.


Nothing Bad ever happens to me. This whole "broken shoulder" debacle is nothing but a minor set-back. Saw the MD today, and though it is a Type III (meaning /I tore 2 separate tendons, and the AC has dropped, making my clavicle look a little humpy) if it were his shoulder he'd wait a month and reassess.

HELL YES. Thanks!

I don't care what it looks like, as long as there's not functional inhibition I'm well stoked. This means 4 weeks of chillaxing and being smart, as opposed to a minimum 8 weeks of immobility following surgery. Bottom line is I can't make it any worse ( I laughed, because don't dare me) and it could be surgically good as ever at any point in my Glorious Future. Which is extra grrrreat, because my glorious present doesn't afford a surgical bill and time off work.

Best of all outcomes. Well, all realistic outcomes. My Luck has held, and now I have the opportunity to get my shit together, boyeee and bounce back stronger. Let's get this healing on the roll! Pardon me whilst I go ice meself...

Good Times never expire!

By now those to whom this matters will already know that Joselyn's Bicycles has closed up shop. If you did not know, uh...surprise!

I have worked in several (that's more than a few, but less than a bunch) bike shops in my time, so I know a fine establishment when I see it. Joselyn's was a sleeper; what seemed overcrowded and 2nd tier upon the casual looky loo was actually a tight ship in the classic submarine style. They'd store smoked hams and nets full of cheeses tucked into the piping because it's all necessary and there's only so much room when you are underground (can we mix metaphors? or does that muddy the water?). The "BIG" brands were already sewn up, so it was Giant and Jamis- solid performers with good value for the dollar.

We've all been into the shop that can't be bothered to help, or that has nothing but shitty attitudes for any one but "PROs", etc. This was not the case with Joselyn's Bicycles. The staff were wildly varied in their bike interests: BMX (race or street), flatland, commuting, trail riding, cyclocross, road, bikepacking. It was a real shop. Any discipline was welcome and at home with somebody. The mechanics were among the finest I have known. Everybody was passionate about bikes. Everybody was a kook. Most of all, Fist Frank Panto...the proprietor...the hub of all this bike love.

Fist Frank sponsored athletes and players in all those categories mentioned. He himself rides in more than a few but less than a bunch of them. We all have our shortcomings and our faults and our poorly disguised obsessions and our thinly veiled depravities and our flat out craziness, and none more than Frank. But let's not dwell on what an ass Fist Frank is, let's celebrate what an asset he has been to the local scene.

Joselyn's will be missed, but Frank will not. He is still here. You will see him out on a ride. When you do, ride up behind him real quiet-like and softly grab hold of his seat. Sit there, in his stinky draft, and when he finally notices tell him it's not unusual to be loved by anyone.



Thanks for the ride, Frank.





P.S. Those of y'all shopping bikes and parts online? FUCK YOU. Your local scene can only thrive if YOU make it thrive. Support your local bike shop. Those are the people working for safe routes to your schools, performing maintenance on your trail systems, sponsoring your race series, helping you with repairs or parts before/after hours, knowing the secret spots, ready to help with route advice or area specific tyres or dialing your sag or drinking your beer or any one of a thousand things. Don't talk about it, be about it. Local Bike Shop!

practical considerations must finally outweigh sentiment

I'm not gonna worry wrinkles in my brow,
'Cause nothing's ever gonna be all right no how.



Christopher St. John and his posse have put the final nail in my off-road-by-bicycle coffin with their cruelly vindictive Aptos High race course. Them, and the (latest) tipsy night ride last Friday aboard the bucking (read: rigid) crossbike.

I got the tennis elbow real bad. This has been onsetting since August. I've been mostly very stupid. I kept pushing the riding and the bodywork and the wrenching (these activities obviously require a lot of hands on.)- piling a night ride on top of a shift doing massage, repeatedly. I piled a bunch of trail work (clipping and sawing) on top of that. One of these days I would give it a rest....

I have hit my bottom. I can't shake hands on this, because it hurts in a burning and unsettling way, but I am lying here looking up and wondering the usual. Where did it all go wrong? Why me? If I could transfer this injury to someone else by force of will, which of my "friends" would suffer?

This is no great shakes in the long run, or the Grand Scheme of Things, or to anyone anonymously reading a crappy weblog...but what the hell do I do with myself now? Pretty much all I like to do is ride bikes and drink beer and this elbow is needed for both.

Look for me one armed on the road and lying under the taps at Alfredo's I guess.

is there any Ladies out there lonely?

Maybe one day you'll velocache.

I'm with this

C___, recent grommet, thunk of and started a mountain bike club up at the high school. He and his friends taunted daughter N___, asking if she could ride.

Her reply? She'll kick allllllll their asses. Now she's in the club. Of course, this means I will be underwriting this club in many ways.

Awwww, yeah. I'm with this.



This fall (duuude, it is August!) is turning out to be some bicycle fun.

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.