yowl

Yo owls?

You prolly already knew Sunday is the full Wolf Moon and all. But what you didn't already know is that a bunch of yahoos are riding out under it, back and forth on streets from Carmel across the Monterey Peninsula* and trails adjacent to same. So now you know that, too.


Now is your local chance to stop blowing it.


You heard?  Good Luck and pack something warm in which to stand around the cold woods whilst dranking, etc.

Yes, this one again. It's the motherfawking WOLF moon...


*looking to roll forth from the graveyard no later than 7pm.

can't help but do a little Evil

It is easy to take _____ for granted. I know it. You know it. It is so evident that it's...taken for granted.

Trouble is, people forget. I personally forget, most relevantly to this arena, that there is some more riding around these local parts than what I already know. I tell myself that I am bored of the handful of legitimately interesting road loops to be had from my door. I kid myself I look real smooth on my sneaky sneaks, known only to me. I say to myself that if I have to ride another dirt loop through ___, that I may as well pay to know what I really think, because I already know it all.

I forget about those (and they are plural) trails I saw and disregarded as I pursued what I thought would be the Good Line. And, as a further aside, I know a guy who specializes in tricking the rest of us away from his Good (sneaky) Lines by routing their entrances in unappealing spots, so. Remembering to remember is tricky and it is the ticket.

This morning I awoke with a plan. Usually, given a ride from home as opposed to a ride afar, I find the ride sorts itself without conscious planning. As I mentioned, I have some excellent sneaky sneaks. Most days my wheels just end up on one or more of them and that's that; perhaps a reverse in direction or something, if I am too terribly tired of the same old. I had planned to do some more in depth investigation of an area I'd found to have some thrilling sections, but which are too short to be worth doing on their own merit. And plus there's complications.

Just let me say this: if you are riding your bike somewhere(s) from which you might need to make a quick get-away then you had best pay attention. Pay attention to the contours of the land, keeping in mind where you can see and be seen. Consider what natural features are most likely given those contours, and how they might affect you (e.g. are you going to hit a creek in that gully?). A keen eye to possible entrances (gates, roads, trails) is an eye to the good. It should go without saying that you must keep your ears open. And, finally and most importantly to my mind, know your exits.

Anyhow, ask me about lying full length behind a shrubbery to escape detection. Inquire as to whether I have broken this losing streak on the porcini front to the tune of 9 (nine!) lbs. I will answer to the effect that we all get stuck in our ruts, that- hell, they are our ruts because they are so good we've ridden them enough times to really set them in. And I will say that lifting the front wheel up out of that rut for a dedicated session of exploration can be sub-par or sublime, but it is worth doing.

one man's treasure

Heads up, Pink Boys. Saturday coming is the Full Flower Moon. Nobody can do everything, but everbody can do somethang.

Get ready with the tear-away pants and the full suspension demo bikes, cuz it's a trail ride!

please turn on your magic beam

Coming down the trail as big as night. I'd rather ride alone in the woods under cloudy skies above than to never know the honest depth of the world. I'm telling you right now that there's not enough contrast during the day to really see. You don't know what the hell I'm saying (I must be _____) because you aren't riding in similar circumstances.


Stand by your lonesome on the Caprock and the lights from Salinas are casting shadows. On an overcast night, when the moon is waning at 4%. No noise save the soft on-shore breeze, and a brief rustling from whatever the hell that is with the green eyes over there in the manzanita.





Feeling swift aboard the cross bike. Wearing my big boy pants against the brush.

dinosaurs on the farm

This:

Speedy West and Jimmy Bryant railing.

KB is planning a tour for high schoolers (he heads up a bicycle maintenance class like a teacher in the summer) so we scurried roundy round the Ord, looking for the perfect blend of carless pave and firm(enough) sand/dirt. It was a new feeling- this looking around for a ride that a bunch of young clowns will both suffer through and enjoy. To think about what it takes to get from here to there and yon is to examine all the sequence of maneuvers and gear choice and chosen gear and maintenance and road judgments and ______ which you so wholeheartedly take for granted in this time (the time of your "expertise").

You do.You do. You take it for such grant that you cannot even begin to bring up all the bits without a single minded focus. Sharp edged rumination. Such furious concentration will surely take it's bite.

I got mine, today. Stuffed the front wheel into some loose deep sand behind a little bush as I was trying to swing around one of the series of quick back and forths before the whoop de doos on Mudhen Express. The bike slewed left, the front wheel bent right, and I went over the bars. Hard and fast. You say potato, I say potato, we both say: tacoed wheel, minor scrapes, gratuitous bleeding.

As I learned today, the Mystic Utterance with the surest effect in such straits is (and I quote) "Take it, Bitch." After a fruitless attempt at returning the True with a spoke wrench and flawless technique, I resorted to the last resort- the overhead wheel slam. At least I had clear marks from the brake pads blacking the tyre's sidewall. 3 "Take it, Bitch"es later, and with a little more spoke wrenching, I had some semblance of True. Enough to continue riding and fulminating, though I was ascared to let it out on the pave on account of it hurts so much to go down on it.


What time is it?



Time for a new hoop. Anyhow, a Good Time was had. Ride bikes, drink beers.




And, plus, what happened to Velocache #28?