the amateur will

cave under pressure. He will feel discomfort and cease all forward motion. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

At least the FNG didn't complain when I tricked him into a "road" ride in Santa Cruz. Lived here all his life and never gone up there for a ride at all, at all? Some would say he deserved everthing he got, others that he hasn't earned any of it. Either way, he received a valuable gift and I'm not talking about the new road rash.

Let's see...Corralitos Mkt to Day Valley to Trout Gulch to Fern FLat to Buzzard's to Eureka to Highland to Summit. Pick up some tallboys and take them over to Redwood Lodge and Schulties. Back to Summit for some more tallboys (FNG says to "get something fancy", so I picked him up a Mickey's) which we toted over to Santa Rosalia.

Credit due: he was riding 23s...you try that and tell me how it works out. Who me? Sheeeeeeit. I ride them 28s all day.

I won't name any names, but Aptos Creek Fire road was where homeboy laid it over, and that was after I took some pity on his fatigue and opted for the easy way down.

FNG may or may not come riding again. If he does, I expect he will have a pump and some will. It becomes ever clearer that I am NOT the guy to teach people how to ride. I managed to keep my mouth shut about the stopping, though I will say here: that shit doesn't help. If you get a "charlie horse" in your self because you have a rotten fit and you're waaaaay too stretched out, you should stop to do what little you can (if it were to be done, then twere best if twere done quickly?) to mitigate your position and then get back to the pedaling. If you have the cramps, then ride through them. Stopping is not going to alleviate any of it, and it is not going to get you back to the car. I can inflict Suffering, but the value of Suffering is something one teaches one's own self.

know the joy of dirty living

Perhaps it is joys. Definitely joyous.

 
 Joy us. Joy for us. And I'm jumpin on it. Regular Arroyo Seco route, with a surprisingly expanded cast of characters.  4 adults, 5 kids on Day 1.


 Friend J is a seasoned PRO, as evidenced by his rig:

 Yep.


And we took on loan M____, #2 daughter of a friend/neighbor as well as our own pickneys. Remember that GT I expanded with the Xtracycle kit I had laying around from pre-Big Dummy days? Of course you do. I set it all up (back then, even) with the side-loader bits and the deck we've been using so that E____ could take his son L____ on a Spring Break camping trip that got rained out...well, they made it this time round:

 This was L's first ever bike camping trip. He has been used to the camper and electric conveniences. I believe it was eye-opening for him. He and J have been bros (what can I say? They're from Cali.) since they could walk. J was suuuuuper stoked to finally have a friend his age along.

The loan of the Xtracycle platform necessitated some last minute bike swapping as I tried to distribute all our customary Arroyo Seco gear amongst my family's bikes. A rope swing is a bulkier item than you think. And there are floaties to consider. I ended up running the Fargo and pulling the BOB trailer. It worked OK. That bike is more suited to personal bikecamping than the gypsy wagon set-up required(?) for camping with kids, but we made it work with everyone hauling something. 3 days of backcountry won't haul itself.




 Man, I sure do love turning that corner from the shitty, gangster-strewn lower level camping areas (seriously- spray painted XIV etc. on the rocks in the river, for crying out loud. Salinas needs to chillax.) and opening my eyes to the Ventana.

  Flip the switch.

 It was a stark contrast between the 2 youngest boys' experience levels. We all start where we are. Hopefully the hook is set, and inspiration follows. There was some whining. There were tears.

 E rallied on his 1st ever bike camping trip. Especially when taking into account his non-biking surfer ways. Loaded. On a cargo bike.

Day 1 was really evening 1 by the time all was said and done. Getting there and setting up camp were about all we accomplished. Fire ban= s'mores over the twig burning stove.

...what do you do?

I took M___ out for a ride. He's a father/soccer coach guy, who moved here recentlyish and expressed interest in learning local trails. Mostly, I find myself with little to say to my "peer" group. I started in talking to him, initially, on account of his sweet Duluth pack (so don't kid yourself: your gear says things about you and your choices) and came to find out he's an inneresting guy. Used to work for the State D_________, and the United N_____s building armies (of all things to build) in A____a. So. Yes, I'm innerested in hearing his perspectives. That's not what I lik to build, but you get the point.

Last week we met at the elementary school, having dropped off our respective chirrens, and wandered up the hill to some close, above-board trails which are very easy to access and pretty tame. I thought it would be most useful to him, and I could get an idea of his competence/attitude/compatibility. Hey. The guy built armies. Who knows which way he jumps.

He jumps pretty sensibly, I think. Being a self-professored student of history meself, his views seem level-headed, if a little sharp-edged. This is not a place I care to engage in heated discussion of anything other than bikes, but I do feel it worth mentioning that this country seems to be heading (quickly) toward the edges, and I wish my children to have the skills needed to thrive. Less will be more.

Anyhow, today was Intro to Fort Ord. Mountain biking 101. It was a little dull. M___ is not a fast guy, or a techy guy, and has a crap bike. But (the most important but) he is willing. It was very like riding with the kids; a lot of slowing, waiting, calling turns, and picking smoother trails. I'll do it again. The conversation was worthwhile. Hopefully he picks up the hammer and starts swinging it himself, though, because I only have so much daylight to burn.

Sussing out new people is weird. Mostly, there's some filters already passed before you ride together; i.e. other folks' introductions, meetings on hard trails, etc.

NSFW audio, and poor video, but it's the only copy of this relevant recording of Louis CK (super comic- you should watch his show) I could pull up...



P.S. Astute readers who really pay attention have noticed the Paul's Thumbies I run (on 2 bikes) and have inquired as to their badassness. I reply: they are pretty bad ass. BUT (the 2nd most important but) you have to keep your housing clean if you expect them to index well with 9 speed. Haven't tried a 10 set-up. Yet. And, if you are too lazy to do this (keeping it clean) then don't expect real crisp friction shifts, either. Since the 9 (and presumably more so, the 10. Eff the 11) speed cassette cogs are so closely spaced, it is easy to misshift. Full stop.

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.