worth more than your opinion

Lots of cowboy carryings on around here. The big red S has their "dealer event" going on locally. That means they* spend an assload of $ on flying shoppe owners/manager typpes out here to test ride all the 2015 stuff, and impress upon them the importance and relevance and etc. of the new new. Until the newer new supersedes it, which is usually right about the time these retailers take delivery of the old new. Cycles of life and all, but it is some force feeding type of situations. You know what I'm saying?

I have not been asked to participate. You are free to draw your own conclusions, but I will state for the record that I, for one, have NOT spray painted "what happened to Contador's bike?" along the parade routes. I just can't be chuffed.

In other words, I taught a wheel building clinic this evening. What that means in practical terms is that I just repeated all the things Get A Job Bob taught me waaaaay back when. He had the good technique fo sho. This was deeply satisfying. A young lad, new to the game, eager to learn some old school arcana...I mean, in this time of machine-built robot wheel "systems" most folks don't even know that hand built is an option. I alternated between sips of Coors, heckling, and getting nostalgic with an emphasis on small adjustments over and over and over with stressing the wheel in between. Your momma's got brass nipples.

*WHO spends an assload of $ on flying their dealers wherever? You do. It's right there in the retail price, built in.  I just can't swallow the bitterness of considering this in-house promotional hoopla. Hype-la? Whatever, at minimum it's preaching to the cheerleaders just before you ram it right up their poop chutes. I'm sure Ned Overend wants to have me thrown out like that one time.

as seen at the ___________

One reason for all the giddy (up, ness) is I put my SS back together. It was in parts for a bit, and you forget how a bike is special when it isn't ridden. I do, anyhow. It is that sort of forgetfulness and laissez faire which backslides into "they all ride like bikes"... which is true, but fuzzy. Some girls are bigger than others, you understand. Well, that SS is Super Snappy! Short stays make for some quick response.

Allergies have taken my top end for the past few days, but the jump remains. I been realizing there are only not trails in those spots because I haven't made any yet (which is profounder than it seems at first). And so this morning I jumped off the road at a likely spot and poked around. Feeling froggy, hopping powerfully up the little ups while looking to expand my throat pouch and get back the breath-dependent top end. Doing it, you know.

I spied a healthy bobcat and raced him. Saw a Red-shouldered Hawk (buteo lineatus) toting a fat mouse up from the tall grass, so that was my totem for today. On account of I like them, and you can't always be the skunk-with-it's-head-in-a-jar.



Laying down fat (but totally controlled) skids through the pine duff, etc. Trying to stay ready so I don't have to get ready.

guff is not a commodity valued by roosters

Done! Swapped old, tired chain rings out for new, clean ones (it's a whole new drivetrain, son!). Replaced shaky "constucteur" (ask me about 3 points of attachment and a claimed 50lb limit and I'll tell you no lies) rack with bomber Surly nice(and heavy) front rack for a sssssolid front end, especially coupled with the 29+ front wheel...aw yeah, it is rock steady now. Packed warm clothes and fancy pants (I am aiming to win the costume-a-thon). Carefully decanted all food items into space saving containers, and stowed it all in panniers. Stole wife's down sleeping bag (no one in town sells zipper repair kits?!? WTF?) and stuffed it like it was my own. Wrapped duct tape around the seat post, added a needle and some extra seat post clamp bolts to- dope! just remembered spare cables...back in aminute




...





OK. 1 each of shift and brake cables. Because shit goes wrong sometimes. Multiply it by 6. Times that by 5 days of riding around. Add some back country and a (at minimum) bottle of good corn liquor, and you are looking at some potential...

See you next week, suckers.

I'll give you __ seconds to tell me what this is all about

Summer. Bike riding or bike writing? As Kool Keith says, "I ain't sitting by no computer, I'm going to Bermuda." So.

Passed this guy on the way to work:

and of course I turned around to check him out. He's accomplished some worthwhile modifications, but. He has fallen victim to one of the classic blunders of the private tinkerer. He thinks his reinvention of the wheel is Omega, and won't listen to another take on it. I tired of his know-it-alledness pretty quickly. Especially his line about being prepared for anything and capable of going anywhere- yeah, that's some bullshit talk right there, Holmes. Soft and street dependent, says I.


Here's a load of

And, you can talk and talk and if you don't actually come prepared, you will find yourself here

no pump/etc and stuffing matter into your tyre to make it back to the pave. You might take your commuter for granted and then try some larger dirt add-on and learn (again) the hard way: always carry the tools to fix your ride!

For what it's worth, it took approximately 2 minutes for the duff to powderize and become worthless.



Single Speed keeps happening. Keeps happening. There's a lot to be said for just head down pedal. Singlespeeding is dead! Long live singlespeeding.

this fits in with my priorities

What about you? Road bikes are fun.

After rolling (hard) out the valley, it is the climb. I am an unlikely climber- long, ungainly, terribly good-looking. Despite the tradition of small riders dancing punchily up slopes of unusual height, in my heart I know the true climbers are simply those who love the suffering. I may not be able to suffer as quickly as those boys, but I can suffer as much.

False summits, increasing gradients, cambered switchbacks, sweat in the eye...yes. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy the sweeping descent as well.

It was at the point of the 1st real drop that I noticed my fancy cycling jacket was no longer in my jersey pocket. That saddened me. It is a nice jacket. A vest, too- the sleeves zip off. So I turned around. I retraced the route. I did not see it on the road there. I felt it was likely the jacket had been pulled out of my pocket when I hopped that one fence on account of the gate was closed. It wasn't at the gate. It wasn't on the climb as I descended, and the gal I stopped had not seen it on her way up. It wasn't on the valley road, though I kept my eyes on the road side opposite. There was enough wind it could be anywhere. It could be in some unscrupulous rider's own pocket by that time. I saw a black billow in the weeds, but it was a trash bag. I began to imagine what alternatives I have at home with which to replace it. My orange jacket is fine for road riding, but a bit bright for the type of trails I frequent. My green windbreaker is too traditional, with it's coach vibe and it's sweat retaining cotton lining. These are boring thoughts even to type (much less read) but they are what circulates in a mind facing a headwind with no jacket while the loss is fresh.

I did find it. When the hope was all but gone, there it was in the opposite gutter. Story of my life. I crossed 4 lanes, scooped it up, put it on, and rode home.



...as I cast my eye back, I see the thread of Loss running through these last few posts. It is not as prevalent as you might infer- there is more to Life than what gets posted here. But I do seem to be letting things get away an awful lot. What to do? Tighten my grip or loosen up...

hero worship is not a productive pastime

What? You scared? Slouchy, hungover and aching is no way to go through life, son.

There are certain protocols, specificities of etiquette. Niceties, if you will, which it were better to observe. Consider: say you are riding with nameless "friends", in the woods, in the dark, and you get separated. Established behavioral norms cemented in place to a diamond hardness and sheen by millenia of Fine Upstanding Tradition and reasoned discourse and a consensus of mutual benefaction plus Goodwill to All and to All a Good Night has it that you stop. You assess. You maybe hoot the International Distress Call* (whatever your local and- hopefully- recognized variant may be). You listen. You maybe hoot again. Bearing in mind that you might be in a er situation that could be construed by the narrow minded as technically "off limits" or somesuch. ____ing, etc.

If your party fails (and I use the word lightly. Gently. Tough lovingly.) to show then Logic, Reason and Experience dictate that you retrace your pedal strokes back to the last intersection at which all were present. Simple as that.

But. In the real world, folks get tugged along by circumstance and shit goes wrong. That has been my experience, anyways. Last night I dropped that short, steep doubletrack to the 3 way and hooked a left. The left is the direction we'd discussed taking twice, and it is the flowier option. Straight up the middle there is singletrack, yes, but it climbs and is no joke right away and goes another way and stuff. The right is not worth considering. The drop, the way we'd come- well, it is a reverse and all.

So. Like I say, I railed that sweet assed descent and flowed like water along the further and delicious descent around several corners to the correct singletrack and pulled up to wait for my faceless associates. It being a dark night, and us being in flagrante delicto, (best Latin phrase of all time?)  I shut my lights down and stood around wondering what might be the case as I was all of a sudden alone. I waited. I hooted. I reckoned La__y and Cu_ly had to be back at the 3 way doing something, and rode back up to see.

That 3 way was black and empty. I repeated the lights-off and the hooting and the listening. Nothing. 3 possible routes, with 1 of them being unlikely. Eventually (minutes), I walked up the middle trail because it was most likely to my mind, and sure enough- there was a tire mark. So I walked back down and got on the bike to pursue. Up and up steeply. Hooting. Listening. Across, around, under, over and up again steeply. At that one meadow I stopped and hooted. Shut my lights down- batteries wear down quick!

I heard a voice. "Take the wrong trail?" Man, did that tear it for me.

"No. I took the right trail." Then I made some remark about them not hearing me or hooting themselves or seeing my lights, etc. This was rebuffed. I asked, hotly- it's true- why they didn't head back to the 3 way, as is to be expected. This was rebuffed.

I really popped a wheelie. There was a yelly confrontational lecture. I was told to drink a beer and to lighten up and eventually to shut the fuck up- all of which were good advice. I stated that I would be willing to part ways on a semi-permanent basis. I was less than polite. I may have actually sputtered like a wet hen.

So not one of my finer moments. It was brought to my attention that "it's not Antarctica" and that there really were no serious consequences that had arisen, which are true. I acknowledged that I had gotten overbearing, and they are not my kids... after a while. What got me and kept getting me was that Subject M would not acknowledge any responsibility nor proper procedures. I felt that I am entitled (oops! that can't be good...) to a certain amount of Respect and that that amount of Respect was not being given. I think that's probably the real issue. REspect due.Yes I.

It is easy to seem reasonable and in the right here on screen. Who doesn't want to seem the good guy? Do any of us see ourselfs clearly, without the fog of our self-perceptive beer goggles? I have the moral high ground ( for fucking SURE!) but is it worth holding like a grudge? Do 12 minutes alone in the dark woods warrant a total freak out? No. My reaction is disappointing to me. In the big picture, it is some small hot potatoes.

Anyhow. The whole affair is a bummer- including being introspective about it. I am happy to drop the subject now.








*Remind me to tell you the story of the international distress call in person. The hoot is very distinctive and funny.

everything these days is pictures

Pictures and a lot of noise. Nobody even knows how to talk. I was looking at some NAHBS coverage on this one website and made the mistake of reading the comments section and it was your typical internet blowfest involving semi-knowledgeable puffinstuffs who hastily type in their angry half-formed criticisms. The site is a DH (DownHill) forum, so the crowd has that angle. It was reminiscent of the aisles at Sea Otter, where there is so much division between bicycle subcultures...but it does seem common place here in the ether. Be a lot cooler if people would shut up if they got nothing productive to say. Not that I don't have some criticisms as well, but mine are well-founded. What am I criticizing about?

Whatta you got?

And speaking of shutting up and being...uh, cool...I took my riding partner out and rode a tiny, easy-peasy, gentle mixed bag of fire road and hard packed (with the occasional deep sand pit- it is the Ord) buff singletrack yesterday afternoon. Yeah, I heard what you said, but it was some well advised get back in the saddle type goings on. My whole self feels so much better for it. I been going karazy.

We drove out there (see?) and parked at the good spot, which is not 8th/Giggling. From there it was the old loop...

Any of youse remember stopping here? We did it all the time.



Stop to check out the old ropes course. Sure is a lot of building materiel laying about for the construction of some tree house. Or something. This was a good spot for rehashing the ghost stories we used to tell N and D. J is so much younger than them, he wasn't around for the 1st tellings. Which, in a way, is better since it it lends these sagas some legitimacy - having his older siblings treat them like old hat. For him they ring of history rather than fantasy.

From the broken down army buildings of the old loop we rounded to the New Stairs. Some of the materiel would be useful here. If any of youse Monterey types happen to be out there with hammers or crow bars and trailers or cargo-bikes, you should consider moving some likely pieces here for further clubhouse renovations. Maybe we'll build a siiiiiiiiick skills park. Maybe we'll just put a back rest on the drinky bench. It's your party.

On account of the mighty oaks provide a skills course of their own, anyhow.







note: the following is a photo of J trying his best to get out of the Ord before twilight brings the Skull Ghost to look for children...
On and on.

So, the injury report is what you come here to read: my arm/shoulder gets tired quick. Today it feels sore- but a healthy sore viz. post-workout. The only scary moment on the ride was picking up a 2x4 to beat the poison oak back from the doorway of one of the army buildings (because what's a kid ride worth if you don't stop to check out creepy abandoned buildings?). And this only because the rotten 2x4 broke as I began to swing it, causing my arm to suddenly shift, which freaked my shoulder out but good. Otherwise, the Surly NeckRomancer handled all the shifty terrain with aplomb. Cushy fat tyres are good for riding tanked at night, and recovering from shoulder injuries. I figure that's 2 more cycling subcultures, right there.

Ride bikes and scare your children,
Dick

you don't know what I know

you can't see what I see



I will break it down for you. Really doe.


Go ride your bike. I don't care what your problem is, or your weather conditions (conditions are perfect), or your aches, or your mechanical issues, or your schedule, or your anything else. And you shouldn't either.

I can say this with confidence. Whatever is "stopping" you from riding is illusion. If you really love riding...you ride.



Don't talk about it, be about it. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know.

* what we really want and why we don't get it

A new bike opens up all kinds of possibilities for reconfiguration of the current bikepile.

I think the Kamped out Karate Monkey will see a Pugsley fork soon, so as to experiment on the cheap with the 135mm front hubbed wheel. (I checked the measures, and it'll fit a 29" wheel.) I have seen a lot more flex in my 29er wheels than I care to on occasion; most notably with big fat tires. I have plenty of rear wheels to serve as fronts for the duration of seeing how the ~20mm difference in height affects (head tube angle) handling. If it sticks, then the possibilities are legion...a dingle on the front and geared in the rear camping bike would be formidable. And I would then be in the position to purchase a front specific hub for actually testing the stiffness thereof.

*EDIT: I see now, the Paul Components Whub 135mm front hub will not work with the Pugsley fork since it (the fork) is designed around rear disc spacing. Kinda puts a damper on the whole thing.



I am also thinking hard about SSWC09, and logistics. Who wants to ride Telluride-Durango on one of the days immediately preceding? I may or may not ride a mini-tour across southern Utah. I may or may not swap out the SS dropout on the Black Cat singlespeed for a hangered dropout to use gears for that pursuit.

Of course, Interbike is to follow, so best start training now, suckas.




No camera=no pictures=no proof, but I was in SC riding with some Santa Cruzers on Wed., which was a laugh a lot type of Good Time. They do got the good trails. I will slip in here the observation that chasing trail-wise speedy flat-barred local-types down their own playground whilst drunk aboard a drop-barred v-braked rig in the dark can lead to a whitening of the knuckles. The work I'd planned to do on Thurs. did not end up materializing, and as I'd committed to spending the night to do it (and face it- driving home after the ride on Wed would have been a baaaaaad idea) I was all of a sudden cleared to ride all day in the hills. With the shady redwooded trails and the twisty turny roads and that.

Out the door (thanks for hosting me T___, and I mean that however it strikes your ear) and on dirt for the climb up westSIDE ridgeSIDE and _offman's _istoric. Up some more and it was Ridge to Braille (which rides like it sounds at first and then steepens dramatically) to road. Summit Store to pay for water, a cold tallboy, and the freshest ripest biggest juiciest most wonderful peach ever. Ride on to the top of that one road that can only be mentioned in a whisper on account of it's superlativity up and down for a brief rest- to drink the tallboy, a wee snort of the whiskey I'd promoted from the kitchen of my hostbody ( I just laughed when I saw the selection in the pantry- 'extensive' and 'portable' come to mind), and a safety break.

down. Fast as hell, crappy one-laned pavement twisting and swooping. I especially love that. No one can do it better.

I made all the right turns to end up at the trail entrance to _enry C_____, and made adequate choices there in terms of tight twisty singletrack to reach the RRtracks. Softly, I rode them down into town to pick up the race van and head home. Tired. Feeling good.

I don't lik ___________s that look too planned. Where is the fun in that?

This past weekend was a lot of fun. It centered around a birfday ride (and we know how those go) to the Pinnacles Monument, at which point it devolved into a chaotic free-for-all camp out. A real masterpiece in 84 hard miles: 2 motorcycles sagged with panniers full of iced(!) beer and water and snacks! There were many people involved, (a rotating cast of 19 riders!) and families and friends met at the campsite for a total somewhere between 60 and 2,032 people. They were all good folks. There were plenty of kids for the kids to play with, and D______ got his falling in the creek and emerging covered in mud from the top to the bottom, bottom to the top out of the way early so that he and his buddy could spend the weekend in their PJs (which, PJs and houseshoes (!) is a fantastic look in the woods; and one I will attempt to ape from now on). The children roamed freely, stopping to graze at different snack sites when the need arose.

Happy Birfday, ____! And a heartfelt thankyou to those involved in support! It was super well done.



Also, it was pointed out to me (in many ways) that blogging is problematic for my fellow riders. In that it somehow detracts from the experience while it is being experienced, I gather. I have gotten this information before; several times. At the time, I did not want to pursue this topic; not least because it would be the primary topic for discussion based on how frequently I heard some variation on the theme of "blogging is _______________."(oh...unwelcome, stupid, a waste of time, lame, pointless, something to be avoided, etc)

I will address it here and now. I would ask in response to "waste of time": compared to what? What are people doing with their free time that is so much more awesome? Many of the people with whom I ride have made it clear they do not want themselves plastered on the internet. That is understandable. I do not mention names and the faces are black-barred out. (if it was good enough for low budget stag movies, it is good enough for me) I do not take my camera out on group rides if it will interfere with the pace or if it seems unwelcome. The purpose of (my) blogging is not to recount all the rotten shi_ that people do, though there were a lot of cracks about "documenting" things. Consider them documented.

I started writing this thing because I am interested in bikes and all the surrounding cloud of bikeness. There are all these cool and unique expressions of people's personal interaction with this on the internet that you can't get from your circle of like-minded buddies even if you are lucky enough to be in a place where there is a sizeable circle. This blog is my hat in the ring. Don't lik the content? Fuck off. Or comment and tell me about it, and then fuck off. Enjoy what you see? Great. Now fuck off.

Finally, it is somewhat ironic that the people commenting on the relative unworth of this pursuit must engage in it enough to, at minimum, read this blog. I won't mention any names.



For those interested in such things: the Buena Vistas (Soma's Mixte) are in stock. I need a 58cm...

Caught! In the midst of a self destructive rage spiral...

Someone is wrong on the internet!

from xkcd.com

You have by now seen lots of blog write-ups about how to behave in traffic. Too _ucking many. And they all share the same conceit- that "cagers" actually pay attention to what you are doing. Leaving aside for now the bullshi_ name-calling from internet bike riders posing as self sufficient heroes who never use a car nor have any use for motorized transport of any kind, this is wack. As has been pointed out by Fxdwhl- to any passing motorist, a cyclist is either a kook forgotten as soon as passed or "that guy" (the one who lost his license due to DWI) forgotten as soon as passed. Full stop.

When I read some (I'll be generous) enthusiast write something about how they are going to ride and "smile all the time, so the 'cagers' will see how happy I am to be riding" and that will change the minds of the motorists and convince them to give cyclists 3 feet of space and drive right to the recycling plant to ditch their car for good, and probably plant a garden too...it makes me hotter than global warming caused by all of you/not me.

Oh, for the love of ___________.

Either just ride your bike, or don't. That's all there is to it. You are not an "example" or an "early adaptor" or anything else catchy...you are some kook on a bike. Just ride.

I lik to ride, and that's why I'm doing it. Some days I can commute, some days I can haul some stuff, some days I can zip around in fancy pants, some days go camping by bike. It's pretty much all fun- lucky for me. At no time am I an example, nor do I expect to be. If there is a red light and it's clear, I'm running that bitch. No waiting so as to maintain cyclists position as legitimate vehicles, etc. If the street is one way and I want to go the other (and it is not suicidal to do so) I am riding the wrong damn way. I try and ride predictably in traffic for the sole reason that cars outweigh me and I will lose in any confrontation- it's common sense. I don't expect them to be careful around me, and I ride to reflect that. I'll take the dirt option if there is one. I also don't expect special treatment. I paid my nickel...

That's the world, cyclists. Shut the fuck up and ride in it.


Well, there is always this: