empty as a pocket

As if everbody would know what I was talking about. Mostly, February (as opposed to Spring) Break. Kids get a week off of school. Gotta do something.




My posse's getting big...



The boys and I drove over to the put-in and loaded ourselves (meaning me) up with camping gear for 5. Don't worry, though. This time we went ultra-light. We left out the folding camp chairs, the 2 burner propane stove, the cast iron dutch oven, etc. We are so soft nowadays that we just hauled out sandwiches for the 1st night's dinner and enough fixings for a couple breakfasts (DON'T forget the coffee!) and lunches. The ladies were to meet us the next day- bringing burritos for the 2nd night's dinner, and themselves.





and my posse's getting bigger.

My posse's always ready, cuz my posse has velocity.














We set up camp and gathered firewood before settling in.







Break.



It is still February...






The new (6man!) tent is roomy. And weighty...







Everybody helps. Breakfast dishes...




...and grab assing.




Kid bikes. NO racks?!? That's how soft.







We messed around camp, throwing rocks, jumping in the (refreshing!) river. We were visiting Spring, but barely- it's plenty chilly. The lupines are just sending up their flower buds. A couple weeks and blooming things will be in full swing.  As we got antsy and pulled out bikes, who should arrive but the ladies?




So the lot of us cruised over to check out the old adobe/Girl Scout Camp and the waterfall. Nobody wanted to ride but me, and I think I know why.








Waterfall. I've not seen it running so big before. The water was waaaaay too cold to get hecka excited about it, to be honest. Although that did not stop the Newt King from his appointed role:







Back to camp...





I brought those eno party lights again, and we had ourselves a dance party. It's nice the kids will still get up off the wall with us...



Break.




In the morning, the ladies stayed for coffee but then left us mens to our own devices agains.



We cruised over to that 1st swimming hole and checked it out. It is a steep trail (steep enough to have ropes fixed along one section) and the beach is underwater right now. We checked the beach across the river, and found it covered in refuse. I don't understand how folks go to such effort to get to a secluded and unspoiled spot and then proceed to literally trash it. I envision young assholes who talk a good outdoorsy game and then don't meet each others' eyes as they slink off, leaving their garbage behind...I would enjoy teaching them some manners.

So, we cleaned it up and hauled it out. I forgot to mention the garbage left behind at the campsite nearest the waterfall. Which we also cleaned up and hauled out. Motherfuckers.



We got back to camp, made lunch, I cracked my last beer (saved in the creek per the Newt King's advice), and we packed up our own camp.













As if everbody here would know exactly what I was talking about.

an old school man-of-the-world

Close your eyes and dream you up a camp-out.



See the lights of town dwindling and get all tingly...





What with the daughter all grownish and driving, it's pretty easy to arrange a pick up these days. That'll extend your range. I'm not above receiving a helping handout. So, it was ride out the valley and turn right. All by meself, and just after dark I slithered through the gates, paid no fees, and rolled on through that dark, around the corner to dirt, and on up the hill. Climbing and breathing for a little more than an hour gets you to the camp spot. It's just a little up the hill from the spring, flat and clear.



You'd think I'd have some skills at this by now, but nope. It's always something*. Setting up in the dark, sure- 1/2 in the bag (flask of Michter's rye, though that is subject to change)- you might make some rookie moves with your tarpage. You might. So, sure, the rain (40%) came up and sat. What with the coastal range holding it up from progressing inland, it sat for several hours. I dozed fitfully as a result. All night with an ear to the storm, ready for quick action should it be required. Sunrise brought a settling in the weather, and I slept in because I could. Camping by your lonesome is nice that way. Nobody's business but your own.




So that there is the set-up sans tarp. You can see how the bike is the center support. The front wheel is propped up with rocks and the guy-line (absent in the photo) to further support the tarp. It is a real clever system, as it requires no poles or trees and keeps the bike out of the weather too! There is plenty of room under there. Another person, were there one in this rider-forsaken locale who enjoys this type of hott action, could easily fit. Even 2 more people. The Crazy Creek tarp is a real fine piece of kit, and your local bike shop can get you one.




The next day saw me sweating my way along, down, through, across and up to finish with a ripping down...to the sunset over the Pacific.








 Hasn't gotten old yet.



When I reached the bottom, I set up my waiting room on the shoulder. My daughter wasn't due for a couple hours, so I reckoned I'd catch up on sleep. The party lights (eno, and your local bike shop can get them...) are to keep people from driving over me.



This is one way to do it.




*Hey R__k, I learned the taut line! Now it's all gonna be cake.

jam it in!

But if it don't fit, don't force it just relax and let it go.




You know how we do. Some a y'all do it too.

We had to get in one last bicycle campout while 2014 is still going on. There was the trying to fit this on that, and the lubing all a the chains, and the pumping up all a the tyres, and the finding and then the packing of all the warm clothes (and some yelling about choosing for conditions, not for trends), and the piling and the winnowing and the loading and the time got away from us. It being Winter (OK, winter) the days are short.

So there was the jamming the rigs into the race van for the assist. L dropped me and the boys off at the top of the hill. It saved us an hour's worth of effort and strife. We coasted down on backstreets and bikepaths until we hit the automall.



It is one of the Great Ironies that the quietest/safest bicycle route thru Cside(!)  is the service road thru the auto dealerships. Truth.


We were pared all the way down (for winter conditions)...



Why's the set-up like it is? Cuz it is. Sleeping gear for 4. The backpack on the front is loaded with clothes. It was fine, but we swapped that jacket for the other one and then it bulged down and rubbed on the front tyre. Solution: a stick, found roadside and braced under it.





Racing the sun. Serious competitors know when the serious climbs begin, and that is the time to adjust layers while you can...if you got a sucker along who'll haul all a yer stuff for you? All the better.




You know it was dark by the time we reached the spot. As if it could be otherwise. Ha!




My sweetie had stuff to do and was to meet us at camp, but things will turn out differently than planned. OK, plan B. Then Plan C, where X marks the meet-up. I ended up riding out to escort her thru the dark woods on account of she is skeered. The boys are used to this sort of thing (not skeered), and remained hidden in the dappled woods like little curled up fawns awaiting the return of their stagnant parents? (Too much? It's reaching, I know) But what a nice cold night to be riding lightlessly along a trail! January 4th is the Full Wolf Moon, and it is wax on.

Traffic was insane, so further delay. I waited in the shadows for a quiet while. When L arrived, I pulled her bike out of the vehicle as she packed the take-out burritos. You can decide for yourself whether we are soft or we are smart. Dogs were barking. That means it is really time to leave. We got gone. Slipped out from under the streetlights and into the woods.




Gross and awesome? Eh, it keeps out the riff-raff.






Burritos and board-games in the woods...


We set up the new/never-been-opened (4person!) tent in the dark, like you are supposed to do. It wasn't bad. The Big Agnes Jack Rabbit SL4 seems pretty nice. My crew prefers a tent- I do not. It's fine, preferable even, when there are bugs. Otherwise, I like being outside, and even inclement weather (Condors can testify! Driving hail? Etc.) is handled with a well-rigged tarp. Then you have some sight lines and some flow. My favorite is the stars for a roof. Every time I woke up, it felt like a room, not a campspot, even with the good moon and Oak shadows. Call me particular.




Pure observation. No complaints can be made. Everbody was snugged up and warm on an adventure, even if only a wee little one.




L got up early, having to be to work, so she and I rode out to her truck while the boys slumbered on.



It was a cold camp (low of 31* and the sand was crunchy) in every sense of that phrase, and we packed up to get as quick as we could. I was not stoked when an early morning pair of cyclists rode by, since it's technically a stealth spot. But I had my hood up, so I was as incognito as a creepy guy crouching nearly trailside breaking down a camp can be.



My team-mates helped half-heartedly, and then grab-assed whole-heardtedly.



We rode out to meet N, who was picking us up in the race van. This nicely rounded our little fun with some soft car rides, sure, but check this out: whatever works. She drove us over to Red's Donuts (since 1954!) and when we got home we all enjoyed our "normal" breakfast waaaaaaaaaay more than if we'd a just walked out in our PJs rubbing our eyes. That's the real niceness of a small adventure- you are that aware of how Good you got it.

So long 2014. You were a good year.

spirits refuse to fade away

but they will rotate, so's to prevent stagnation. Stag nation. Like it's comrade, Rust, it never sleeps but it also don't work as hard so you can beat it if you're willing to put in a little effort.

It's October Break (you know- when the kids get a week off of school) and we ain't got the resources to ride the highline thru the Himalyas, tour the Continent's finer salons, or explore the most picturesque of the lesser known slot canyons but. BUT. We can discover the wonders of nature, rolling in the rushes down by the riverside. A quick and dirty overnighter way down Arroyo Seco way?



That's all you had to say.

The stripped downest of trips. The kids all carried they own sleeping gear, no extras (i.e. folding camp chairs, 2 burner stoves, cast iron dutch ovens, or the like as per past trips), and we had the barest of food set ups...means poppa can forgo the big Big Dummy, and we can all fit in one car for the drive out to the trailhead. Yes, they are unwilling to ride the 45 miles to the ride. Soft.



The weather has begun to turn, (though central California is never that cold) and we don't love the yahooery that runs rampant at the "gorge" anyhow, so it was an easy unanimity to keep rolling rather than head down into the shadows and the yelling in favor of keeping on towards the sunshine and the quiet.






So after all that, there is the this:







And you can lounge creekside in the hammock hoping the beer fairy shows up...

a puppet for forces greater than myself

What do you do with a couple consecutive days off, some nice weather and a full moon, and a bunch of losers for friends who won't go on a mini bike tour with you? Yes, that's right. You just pack up and go by yourself.



Heading straight out the valley with 2 wheels and a gangster lean, I rolled along on the Surly Ogre with the fattish front end on account of I was heading for some dirt along the way...



I stopped because it was hot. I was tired. There was shade. I had a swap the bar ends from their aero position to one that would help with climbing. Etc.



It was all timed so perfectly. I hit that good corner just at moonrise. That was a fine spot to stop and savor. What a glorious evening. What a fine harvest moon. What enchanting prospects for cool, quiet climbing in the silvery light.



I don't know when was the last time you scavenged dropped-in-gravel BBQ flavored Cornnuts (I won them at the bike races!), but I reckon that's the last time you were really living. To be so wrung out and hungry and in such an environment...well, it's a genuine pleasure.

After lounging and savoring and appreciating and getting stiff and cold, I climbed the old dirt road for the next hour or 2 and it was just me and the moon. My wife says she would never ever go out there alone, and I understand. The first several times I was solo in the back of someplace, it was scary and I slept poorly. But nothing bad happened. There's no monsters. Mountain lions don't want to eat me. And stuff. By now, it's not a thing. I do enjoy the company of others, but there is a lot to enjoy solo as well- quiet, relaxed pacing, relaxed schedule, flexibility. So climbing up that road in the dark (I leave my lights off to appreciate the moonlit goodness) was real fine. Eventually I reached the spot and stopped. Just a sleeping bag and the sky for a roof. I sleep very lightly when I'm by myself, but it's not a bother. It's another opportunity to look around and know I'm where I am and be glad of it.



The spring. So much flow. When I got there, the plastic basin some smart guy left was full of gnarly algae and dead bees. I dumped it out and put my pots and a water bottle in there, hoping they would be close to full in the morning. And they were, plus plenty. The water tasted...earthy.



Yes.



Whatever ate this little fox was hungry. It even turned the face inside-out to get at the ear muscles!



All that is downhill. Happily downhill. But it does lead to a long and hot and long and hot and long crawl over to a substantial, though shady, climb. I found myself breaking the day into stages, but then there were the in-between-stages stages, also. You have a lot of time to think about minutiae on a long and hot and long crawl. For example: how I don't love the bar ends at all. They were not very useful as aero bars, and they're not very comfortable as bar ends, and I don't like the enclosed sensation at my hands, nor the reduction in bar width. I removed them for the final descent. To maximize my steering and promote a more positive end feel.

Bikes. Bike riding.



The thing is, if you wait for your buddies' plans to coincide with yours then you may be waiting for quite a while. Why wait?

immunity from ridicule

Beyond whatever pale you got. There's a good spot out there, somewheres. My roommates and I went looking, and we found one. Nowadays we know right where it is- about 15 miles from HQ. We take the back ways whenever possible, on account of they are less trafficky and more quiet.

Everybody fusses before we leave. The boys fuss because they know what kind of effort they have in front of them, and I fuss because the this and the that aren't where they "should be" and a strap pulled off, and this part needs adjusting and that one needs lubing, etc. I am a crabby packer when I am trying to concentrate and answer questions and give directions all at once. I have realized I am not great at multitasking (mul tit asking?) At all. Eventually we get all sorted and roll out. On the road, all these irritants blow away. It is time to settle in.





D is in a growth spurt, so he's a hard fit on his bike(s) right now. And he is extremely reluctant to adopt an efficient/aggressive bike stance- he wants to sit upright and slouch with his giant flipper feet square over the pedal. He test rode his mama's Xcheck and didn't want to ride it because of (half foot)toe overlap. After some (more) instruction (again) he got it and that bike fits him best and is quick rolling. It is hard to talk to him about riding because I get frustrated that he can't remember basic instructions (like how to take a front wheel off). He doesn't care to learn is the issue. I try not to flip a switch (it should be fun) and I succeed maybe half the time. So he pouts and I say "too bad. You're doing it." Hopefully the fun is enough to overcome the "this is hard." Time will tell.



This route is the same as the last route. J was sad that we juuuuust missed the fruit stand hours of operation. We rolled over to the taqueria and they know us and our order and how we like our burritos in foil, not the cardboard to-go box because they're more packable that way. We stopped at the sundries store and got a glass jar to stash some candy out there. We learned to store sweets in glass after the ants crawled under the wrappers of the Tootsie pops that one time and all that was left was an empty balloon of wrapper and stick. We crossed the street and picked up some tall boys of Modelo (gettin' fancy) and some Skittles.

Stopping at a high point to drink a nice cold beer, I put my jacket on straight away. There was a good on shore breeze, and being sweaty- that'll chill you quick. J followed my lead and then D. After a few more minutes standing around speculating, they had theirselves a yard sale:



I laughed and laughed. Off with the shorts and on with the pants...



and the ninja.






I ordered this handlebar setup from Revelate a while back, and am only now getting it out for a shakedown. Well, I been so complacent with the (already installed) porteur rack. Anyways, it's a process. It does mess with cable placement, and I now know you gotta pack a smaller bag in closer to the bars or your brake finger action is impeded. I reckon I'll use the bag on my sporty bikes and slap the rack on this Big Dummy because cargo bike. I carried all the boys' stuff in order to make hard effort as fun as possible. Also, I really, really like the big front end, but I feel like I'm wearing that ($pendy) tyre out too quickly by rolling around on so much pave on the get to and from, so I'll switch back to regular and save that for the real trail rides.


When we arrived at the place, the light was fading and we had to get our set-up set up. The boys were hongry, so they began eating whilst I set up the tarp. Which, that is a time suck. I asked/told  D to set up the hammock meanwhile...and he sucked his teeth and threw up his hands (the irritants all come rushing back in!) indicating that he was busy eating his burrito and what the F. Oh man, does that put me in a tailspin. I explained the importance of helping your family/team and how that helping will be appreciated by anyone he ever hangs out with for his whole life versus how laying back and expecting things to be done for him will not be appreciated, etc. Also, if the hands get thrown up again, ever, there will be some hands being thrown. Some new attitudes (freshman in high school) are being taken out for a test drive and I will see that shit STOP. Generally he's a great kid.

Moving on from parent rant. Check this out:







I picked up some ENO party lights (your LBS can get you some) and, wow, are they neat. There was plenty of light for Risk-the game of world domination.



Fog will drop a lot of water when it does, so we all slept under the tarp.






You already been knowing how the Kelly Kettle boils water for coffee and for oatmeal...



and how to fashion a bowl from a used tallboy.

over and over

It's just me and you anyways, since the blog is a dead art form. I guess I think about a tumblr or a instagram or whatever else is current and next...but at heart I'm a limpet. And sometimes- even though I have gotten more secretive in what I post on account of a lot of stuff is not for public for various reasons involving certain strictures and who wants to post evidence of and leading to, etc- sometimes I like to expound a little bit. There're more and better wastes of time available to you I realize.

They'll tell you you're out of style. I reckon if something works, well you can just keep refining it but the basics are sound so then there you are.


I say again: you can't always be going to ______ or riding across _______, or racing down the ____, etc. so you really must take your kicks where you find them, because they are the best of where you are. Nothing wrong with a small adventure. It's what keeps you ready.



And, as Suga Free reminds us, if you stay ready you ain't got to get ready... even though it was a hasty strap up and roll in order to get to work on time. I thought I'd just ride to work and then keep riding kind of thing.



That's what happened. I waited until closing time to fill the water bag since it's heavy. Then a quick stop for burritos and another for beers. The quickness is slowed down when I reach the edge of town since that's where you stop and drink a beer. I don't think there's much that is nicer than a ice cold beer on the brink of some trail riding.

It was a short trail to the staging area, for another beer and some target practice.




It has been my experience that setting up your camp is best done first, else you risk a soaking. Rig a corner of your tarp, sip a beer, rig another corner, sip a beer, shoot a can, ruminate on how a tent is muuuuuuch quicker to set up it's also a fair bit heavier and bulkier and a little technique being required helps keep it inneresting and adaptable, sip a beer. You might chew on some Bookers, since it's a high-toned affair and all.

(worth watching, if only for the reminder that fine whiskey takes time and effort to create and that is worth some recognition or why bother?...and, plus if you want to hate bike nerds for their nit pickery, you should check out how geeked out whiskey nerds can get)


After a couple three beers, and some pulls on the flask, you will want to ride around (ahem) unloaded.



Fist in glove with the riding of the bikes is the crashing of the bikes. Some will immediately shove a soapbox under their own ass and rail about drinking (see above) as the root cause of said crash, and they have a leg to stand on, sure. If only to shut up a tiresome meddler, I would attempt to sweep that leg out from under with the truism that a crash will come to everyone in time. I like to ride and crashes aren't going to change that. I like to drink and ride, and crashes aren't going to change that, either. I paid my nickles. I also (re)cracked a previously broken rib. Ouches. It's nothing I would not do again, only maybe a leeeeeeetle bit slower in the twisties. A subGenius must have slack. You do what you do because you want to. I do what I do because "Bob" told me to.







I think the raccoons hate that eyesore as much as I do. Nice.





So the low hanging clouds never did drop any moisture, but they did keep the metaphorical lid on things. The night was hushed and it felt like anything might happen and everything was holding it's breath waiting. It was very quiet and still.




In the morning, with a reduced load and a relaxed time table, I stream-lined the packing. Per usual, I'm struck by the bulk involved in just an overnight as it relates to multi-day outings (viz. the only extra(s) is more food...). I'm liking the velo orange porteur rack for the bulky items. You see there my Zrest (eff a inflatable/failable pad), the shelter tarp, sleeping bag, and Kelly Kettle all wrapped in the ground cloth. The camo thing underneath is my insulated coverall, which is bulky but warm and light. Can't say enough good things about the Revelate Designs frame bag. Again (over and over) with the Surly Ogre and the 29+ front wheel to good effect. There are things in the works to improve on the set up, but they take time and money...




There's trains and there's trains.

in the future

Summer has ended over here. Summer is sticking around, and will likely last through to nearly October, but Summer is done with the first day of school. Schedules and likes being what they are, J and I saw Summer off with a little, small bike camp out.



It is interesting to see the progression. Last week's attempt had him huffing and puffing up the dirt climb pretty quickly. Not so this time. You know how it is, when the route is known it takes some pressure off. You can gauge the required effort better, if nothing else. He was gauging pretty good. He told me it wasn't so hard this time.

We got to the top and he asked if we were going to take the extra dirt climb. I typically skip that with their camping rides, as it is extra effort for not a whole lot of pay-off, and there are currently 2 downed trees and it has lots of poison oak plus those thorny brambly vines.

"This is fun!"

We dropped the bike path connector, with it's buckled root-strewn pave and took the side streets. We stopped at the fruit stand for snacks and a rest. We chilled in the shade at the park. Pretty much a repeat of attempted weeklies past (this is #5 for this version, according to my partner), with small refinements.

An OK sunset preceded a glorious moonrise, some Secret Boys nighttime getting around, burritos, and sleeping in the dirt. Early roll-out for extraction and doughnuts.



Summer is done, but we are not.

skull dump

1/2 a day flies by before we get serious and down to the business of piling up our camping gear. Much of it is in a dirty shambles from being used for the Grand Canyon trip, so we use more time trying to find this or that. Eventually, it is all gathered in the front of the garage and we sort things into the proper places for me to haul all the stuff for an overnight except the boys' packs. I'm taking it easy on them because, again, we are riding a fair bit to reach this week's secret camp spot.



J is a mouthy little half-wheeler, and I have to stay on him about riding within himself so as to be able to maintain. He will burn right through his energy and then get fussy if I don't. D, on the other hand, will drag this out as slowly as he is able, so he must be hustled.




I just got that bike built for him, and it's too small. Dang. I reckon I'll swap in a taller and longer stem with some swept back bars. It isn't the aggressive trail bike, after all.





 We ride. We talk (quite a bit) about traffic awareness and safety- those drivers ain't looking out for us. We talk of inconsequential things and we talk of consequential things. We talk a lot of shit.

J shows off his one-handed riding and crashes right next to me. We get him out of the road- this is why we take the sidest streets- and hang out as he collects himself. He rung his bell, but isn't hurt.





We stop for burritos. There will be no cooking. We got more pressing matters at hand. The boys have to learn the game of world domination...



Risk! When I was a boy we spent days over that board. It is still engaging, and especially so in the woods at night.




We've been keeping up pretty well with the (attempted) weekly camp outs. They don't know I'm hardening them up so they are able to go farther and farther, but that is what is happening here.

SMOKE FROM DISTANT FIRES

Welcome back. Fresh out the Grand Canyon, a family vacation like we used to. It gets no more traditional a USA summer time adventure than piling in and camping out at such an iconic venue. True fact: I recommend the North Rim of the Grand Canyon! A very different experience than the crowded and day-tripper-ridden South Rim.



In a week's worth of camping out family style, there is an overnight to be had solo. It's good for everyone's morale. I had packed my bike, and my sweetie's bike (which fits 2 of 3 childrens as well, these days), in hope of joining forces with some AZ's finest. That didn't happen, but I was able to roll away from the public campground to look for some realer real.





Plan B was some poring over the map(s) with an eye to easily accessible dirt. This revealed a potentially fun destination, and just like that, it was on. I rode out into the unknown. As such, it is always the same- the distance out, being unknown, seems much longer than it is. Plus, my map sucked and showed several roads branching from my route where there were in actuality only 2. Lessons learned and relearned= a map is not the territory. Ceci n'est pas un blog entry.



I rode along a quiet forest service dirt/rough road and savored the (surprising to me) alpinity of the Kaibab Plateau. I thought about canyons and erosion and drainage. The landscape is all about drainage over there.



Over here on the west side, we gets no lightning. I used to live places where the good storms rolled through, but (Cali drought notwithstanding) these days there's no drama in my skies. Fog is just drab. We'd had quick and refreshing weather blow through each afternoon thus far, so I was packing my rain gear.



When I arrived at the end, it was crowded with people even though I'd only seen 2 4x4s go by on my approach. Lesson 2= there is no backcountry in a highly visited National Park, dummy. Duh. I waited them out, perhaps drove them out with my smelly dirtbag lurking. Perhaps it was the imminent thunderstorms. On the edge of the GC there, I watched the storms as they moved about the place. You can see for miles. When it became clear these storms would likely put in an appearance at my own point, I worked to quickly set up my beloved tarp. I used one of the 2 picnic tables as an anchor, and my bike frame as an anchor with the front wheel off to serve as another anchor, and situated my shelter in the lee between a small fir tree and a large sage bush. I had the Kelly Kettle along (of course) and it served as a weight along one of the sides, tied to the grommet. It was a very jury-rigged set-up. As a tarp will be.



Then I walked back down to the very edge and marveled. The 3 main storms, which had been quite separate, were converging to the Southwest of me. I watched multiple lightning strikes taking place simultaneously in different spots. Like, 4 strikes at a time in one storm and 4 strikes in a different storm location all go off together. It was AMAZING. One strike came down below the rim and then arced sideways back to a cliff face. I've never seen anything like it. All this time the rain was coming closer to my point. When it became scary (and it did) I thought about the fact that my tarp was anchored with a steel framed bicycle to steel framed picnic table under the tallest tree at the pokiest outest end of a high point, and I got scareder. But, what are you going to do at that point, with the wind whipping the rain closer and the thunder right overhead? I reckoned that neither the tables nor the tree showed lightning damage, and literally ran for cover. The sound of the thunder was so immense I cowered beneath the tarp with my wool shirt wrapped around my ears for fear the sound would cause damage. I'm sure the storm was centered 2' above my tarp. Then it began to hail.







With the hail, the thunder ceased and I was able to unwrap my head. This was good, because the water and ice were threatening to flood my "floor" (a tarp on the dirt). I got to work and spent the next 20 minutes or so constructing and shoring up earthen walls along all 4 sides of my shelter. I reached as far out as I could and dug run-off trenches away from the walls to encourage drainage (that whole place is about drainage). When my hand got too filthy, I simply held it under the main run-off spot of my tarp and it was soon clean. There was so much water, I filled and drank my coffee cup 6 times before I stopped bothering. It tasted strongly of  fir.



By that point the rain had settled in and lessened somewhat. My dams held, and I was snug and dry (nice that the overall temp was balmy) for the next 2 hours or so of steady raining.







When it stopped entirely, the sun came out and so did I.





 I spent the afternoon sitting in different places on the rim looking at the Grand Canyon. You could spend a lot of time doing that. I had a thermos of Booker's and got drunk as an owl, mixing it with splashes of piney rain water. I call this cocktail a "Point Sublime." But you can only get it the one place.




More folks came out. That place is crawling with people. Several folks stayed out to watch the sunset before driving off. I had taken my sleeping gear down to the rim, figuring if it stayed clear it was a win and at worst I could again run for cover.



 The sky remained clear all night. I saw a shooting star that flared like none other I've ever seen and it's trail lingered for a good 3-4 seconds before fading away. The Milky Way loomed. It was fantastic until the motorcycle yahoos showed up (at, like, 2AM?!?) and made a lot of noise setting up their own tent above me and then clambered down where I was with their flashlights. That place is crawling with people. I don't know what I was thinking expecting to get away from them with no knowledge of the place except that gained from briefly looking at  a map.



Totally worth it. That storm was incredible. I'd do it again in a heartbeat, though next time I'd be more careful with shelter choices. Also, at this point I've toured a fair amount with the 29+ tyre size and I say: it works. It works very well and is a low cost, low tech, low maintenance way to soften up your ride. It really smooths out the wrinkles. You like offroad touring? You should check it out. Full stop.

enjoy it before it's over

Some sleep in the dirt therapy is just the thing. Secret Boys style.



Want the treatment? Get out there and set up your fancy tarp while it is still light. Swang on the rope. Explore some new bits of woods. Wait for sunset. Ride around doing whatever it is you do. Eat take-out burritos in the dark, and wish for a candle lantern (which is something you haven't thought about since Boy Scouts). Talk amongst yourselves. Awaken several times in the night and lay there, listening to the soft rustling of the wood rats amongst the beer cans hidden in the tree. Think about various configurations of material in an attempt to maximize fun space. Relish being out in the woodsy night time.



Check out morning in the woods. Gaktronic likes to sleep on the platform, and he really likes having the roof. It spit a little the other night while I was out solo (and shelterless), so I brought the tarp along this go round. I am super happy with it.



D and I slept on the ground. 



Fun with Princess Bride ad libbing. The boys are well versed in that film.



What you do not see is me. I found a set of insulated coveralls. Perfect for lurking incognito.




Spontaneous mild derbying...I was so proud.




"Make your camp face."



May you experience aero tucks and kindly bears.

winds have changed

When picking a line through the debris and/or technical bits it is best to focus on the points along that line. You will only be present at each individual spot temporarily, so if the flow takes you into some troubly looking areas it is not the big deal. Hit the high points and the momentum will keep you movin' right on thru.



I have been wallowing in the low spots of late, and it is less. Tired of- especially my sandy local trails (gah! hottt and sandy) and my local streets and my this and my that. But you can't let other people get your kicks for you.



So, that one secret project that I kept thinking about has kept me out late and sleeping in the woods, and it is ON. I got most of the hoops jumped thru, and there is a plan in place, and there are most of the necessaries in place. Momentum is high and iron is hot.



In the middle of that extended and amazing sunset, I stopped at the taqueria and the gal behind the counter recognizes me and tells me to be careful out there in the dark. She thinks there are things of which to be scared.



I just assure her that I will. I don't try to explain.

mirages and ghost stories

As Summer is in full effect right now, we continue to (attempt to) ride our bikes to a sweet camp out. Tuesday is as good a day as any other, and better than most. It is a day I have off, and weekdays are good trail days because many folks are working so the trails are clean. Etc.



In keeping with our ride to the ride ethos (where possible, when it's convenient and safe and more fun than alternatives and we aren't too pressed for time and the weather is nice, it's not too hot and the traffic is light...) we rolled out the door all dolled up. There is a required section of HWY 1 from the house, and I took up the rear guard position. It occurred to me, as we rolled along mightily, that we were all dressed alike. That was unintentional, but amusing. Light weight cotton long sleeved shirts to keep the sun (and poison oak) off and khaki shorts. The inherent embarrassment of this was pointed out to me by elder son, D______, who (at 14) is very sensitive to appearances and who felt his newly cut-off shorts were making him look bad to _____, who had just been driven past by his momma. I am sensitive to feelings, so I told him to not worry what soft people in cars think and cheered him with the assurance that he is the hardest fellow at his school and how none of the other kids his age could pull off what he was doing. Sadly, these Truths did nothing to raise his spirits.

By that point, we were arrived at the first trail section. We rode dirt slowly uphill, and had a brief discussion on fashion and peer pressure, during which I made excellently worded points regarding the folly of giving a shit what assholes say about you, and the wisdom in choosing a wardrobe solidly based in classicism for the reasons that A) it is classic because it looks well on a man, and B) trends will ever come and go, so it is always a losing proposition chasing the latest fleeting variation.

Needless: he firmly believes I 1)look stupid, and 2)don't get it. We are both 100% correct.

J______, who is 9 and in some senses wiser than us both, was oblivious and continued to half-wheel me. I told him to take it easy (we had a long way to go- about 16 miles!). Riding with these noobs is taxing. Lots of wasted efforts, lots of poor decisions in line choice, dangerous positioning in traffic...it is a constant awareness type of mother henning. Cluck cluck. Especially crossing the highway, where we don't trigger the light. After all this safety 1st yakking, we have to wait on the sidewalk and use the pedestrian crossing button to then cross against left-turning traffic only to ride on the wrong side of the road (on the sidewalk) and cross the other street to make the right we'd initially needed...lessons learned at the knee of playing it fast and loose. As bicycling in a world paved for cars requires, sure. I hope the lesson is one of do what you must (safely as possible) rather than anything goes.

There was talk the usefulness of proper gear selection as we climbed. And climbed. Panting for breath will become sobbing if you let it. Don't let it. Whining does nothing to alleviate suffering, but it does make your companions want to leave you. Doing hard things is hard. Sometimes all you can do is let it be hard and keep pedalling. Some truths are so True you forget them. We rested at the summit and laid ourselves on the warm bike path pave while eating peanut butter sandwiches. It's all downhill from there!

Sure it is. I was "testing" the new front wheel. The 26" sorta half-fat wheel? A 50mm Surly Rabbit Hole surrounded by the 26"x2.75" Surly Dirt Wizard. Now, this may come as a surprise, but I am an idiot. No, it's true. (Go ahead, laugh- it's good for you.) I had grabbed the first 26" tube at hand, and it was a 26x1.5/2.0...which is pretty skinny, but it's what I got. Sure, I thought, rubber expands just fine. It'll be OK as long as I don't hit any sharp bits. Well, this proved false. The saddle-like join around the valve expanded so much and so awkwardly that it pulled apart and pinholed. Not once, but twice because the spare tubes on both the Big Dummy and D's 26" bike were also the 1.5/2.0 variety! Gah! I felt so stupid and mad. AND there was no patch kit on any of our 3 bikes! (not that it would really have helped in that regard as it would have continued being super blown out and wear hella fast, but you know. Duh. What asshole doesn't have a patch kit? Apparently this asshole. So. More angry stupid.) I tried not to be pissy to the boys as I stood there simmering and thinking. What I came up with was to deflate D's tyre and hope that it's tube would prove larger than the ones with which I was laboring so that I could swap in the thinner 2nd spare (well his tyre was only 2.2...)and I could use his fatter tube on my fatter wheel. This, so as to limp over to the bike shop which was happily only a mile or so away. There I hoped to find a more suitable/fat tube. Fortuna favet fortibus? Well, if you call a $20 retail DH tube a favor, then sure. Though I did have/get to use the tapered reamer to fit the schraedered tube.



Hardships behind us, we forged ahead the bikecentric way thru Cside(!) and stopped for burritos. These weekly campout rides are the quick and easy, you understand. It's much less about "camping" as it is about getting outside in all conditions and having a fine old time. Tall cans of cold Modelo help, too.



The secret spot camp was as nice as it always is. We hung the hammock and swang the swing and did other stuff and told stories. J likes to hear about when I was a boy, and so next time I think we'll bring Risk and have a game like back then.






The moon came up late, and was waning halfway along but it was plenty bright to pull me out of bed so I could stand around peeing in the woods and listening to the yodel dogs split and regroup and split and regroup as they chased softer prey than us- hard men that I ride with.



We were softly picked up in the AM. And taken to Red's Donuts on the way to work/home....

shoulds

If you could you would.

Fort Ord is a hot and sandy mess right now, and getting sandier. Charge that line, keep your weight centered, keep the bars centered, stay off the front brake, GO! You will bury that front wheel and stack it up/pack it in, all tangled in the front end, dirt in your mouth...that is a given. You will get up and spit out the sand thru a smile? That is a maybe. You tell me.


There is other riding to be had around these parts, but it doesn't bear writing about for several reasons. Lots of info should not be easily obtained nor posted on the ineverbody'sbusinessternet. Boys at the shop STRAVA all day about their training rides. Alright for some. Me? I'll be off in the shadows, under the radar, into the Good Stuff.




In questionably publishable news, my very own boys and meself are working at keeping our side up. Weekly (attempted) bike campouts are happening. Blogger is a real pain in the ass these days in re to posting photos, so just imagine the blacked out eye bars a la 50s stag movies...



We forwent a campfire this go round on account of it's a bust. We need a better spot. I've been keeping these easy as we build up to venture further afield. There's only so much fun you can extract out of a school night, anyways...



The new tarp is proving itself worthy. J requests it. I think sleeping roofless is still wracking his nerves a little.





Sleepy boys wake up in the woods, at 5:30AM, on a school day. I count that as a win.



Better than a bus ride!












They have no idea how good they got it.



We headed over to the Bagel Bakery for breakfast and then onto school. Just like it were everyday life.

your life will have a tragic end

Everything ends in tears. You know what begins with an edict? Family bike campouts.

So much fussing. Even with the edict having been issued (decreed?) with a week's notice, there is the fussing. (You try having a teenage daughter.) In my kingdom, the fussing leads to the yelling. Eventually it all settles in, and even the teenage daughters have a Good Time. I wish it were possible to skip straight to that point, but it is sorely clear to me that the process is required.

There are no electronics allowed. Make your own fun is strictly enforced. This is a must- card games, conversations via face-to-face speech, rope swanging, chopsticks, etc. do not occur in the presence of the texting. True fact.

For this week's campout we opted to drive towards the trailhead. Well, so we could keep it short. We parked on the outskirts and rode in to the camp spot from there.

Again with the Big Dummy. I put the new side loader bags on several months ago, and I've come to appreciate the updated features. More and better closures than my OG Xtracycle bags (c. 2002), which were used hard and badly sun damaged anyhow. When packing a load, I'm with Big Dummy. Anytime Surly wants to let the 26" Dirt Wizard tyres out, I'll be happy to try them on the front. The more cushion and stability on that bike the better. Light load for the overnighter:



just 5 people's sleeping pads, bags, and food. The kids like it better when L___ comes. I think because it feels more like a family outing than something I have forced them to do. Yes, I know there is no difference- but they don't.




While the family was eating their takeout burritos (the quick and easy...), I climbed a tree and tied up the rope swing like the boys and I had discussed last time.





It works.




Posted up fireside. Also note: we made sure the fire was OUT. We poured several water bottles worth over the coals, stirred the ashy mud, and finally scattered the area's litter (oak leaves and grass seeds) over the site. You cannot tell we were ever there. This matters.





N___ tried the hammock.






We got up and on the trail pretty quick, since we had to be at Red's Donuts before they ran out of the good ones...

always keep one step ahead of yourself

Waking up on bike tour is a delight. Solo is even more delightful in some ways. You can look around, see that the sun is headed your way, the birds are awake, and decide to keep sleeping. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat, until the sunlight heats your bag and you have no choice but to get out of bed and make some coffee.



That blackened stump has been out there for several seasons now.  We set it alight accidentally back when we were using the Esbits. It is a reminder to be careful with fire. I pulled it out of the woodpile for use as a stove base (again), but this time I soaked it first.

I enjoy using the Kelly Kettle. I like the ritual of gathering and busting up little twigs, which don't seem like much and yet there it is- your first boil in 5 minutes. It's quiet. Solo, you can lollygag your morning with an extra round of coffee, and not even think about other people's unspoken agendas. You all have them.



You can waste your precious time lounging in the sun, eating breakfast at a leisurely pace, and speculate with the map about potential loops from camp sans gear.




Someone had left this deer skull in the tree next to the fire ring, but I thought it would have more impact mounted on the cabin porch and covered in wildflowers...

I settled on a fun route and hung my gear up in the shower with a note asking folks to leave it unmolested. Then it was hottt climbing, only with the feelings of extra power. When you are solo, you can also feel fast.


Seems like every time we are out there, I kick myself for not having tools for trail maintenance. This time was no exception, but I did put some work in by hand. I think it will help a little. No one can do everything but everyone can do something. Thank you! to all the volunteers who put in the good work on those trails.



The dried creek beds were full of deerweed/California Broom (Acmispon glaber) and surrounded by fields of CA poppies, and lupines in shades of purple, blue, yellow, and white. The buckeyes are going insane and smell wonderful.  It was some real grasswhacking singletrack, but the ticks were not bad at all. For Coe. The bugs are out, but not bad yet. I have itchy ankles from mosquito action in the early evening. I reckon another week and the flowers will be all gone; it looks like last week would have been ideal.



I'll take what I can get.



I like these mariposa lillies (Calochortus venustus).




I also appreciate, for name alone (?), the wally baskets a.k.a. Ithuriel's spear, a.k.a. grass nut (Triteleia laxa). See also the white globe lily, a.k.a the fairy lantern (Calochortus albus).




My gear was still hanging when I got back. It is such a luxury to have that cold shower! Hell yes, I took advantage of it. After lunch I packed up and began tying the fun singletracks together in as fun an exit as I could devise.



There is a lot of good hillside singletrack out there.



I saw this Northern Pacific Rattlesnake (Crotalus oreganus oreganus) about 6' before I ran it over. At speed (hella), all I could do was unweight the wheels as much as possible and let out a quick, shrill scream. I stopped and checked it out. It seemed totally unfazed. The range of coloring for these is surprising, and I really like the colors on this one. I guessed it to be about 24" long. I was glad not to have harmed it. Snake magic.



What a fun trip. "Jumping" the snake would have been ...better with a podner, and illustrates the wisdom of traveling with (capable) friends, but damned if the whole thing wasn't a Fine Time. I came home dirty, salty, and tired. That makes me appreciate the home life as it should be appreciated.

back stage passes

See me after class for the actual best way into the interior of Henry Coe. Climbing is a given, but there are ways and there are ways. Behind turning a lot of corners, and pedaling, Pacheco Camp is only a afternoon away, after all.

I crumbled Sunday after work, and did not make it happen. Soft. Looked out the window at that upcoming Full whicheveritis Moon, knew in the moment I was blowing a great and rare opportunity, and went right on crumbling. I completely turned it around on Monday, though- left super early in the afternoon. Right at the crack. I kicked myself about it then (it don't bother me now, though) because it is delightful to ride open trails beneath the silvery moon, and the chances are at best 13 in a year's worth.

It's only riding bikes.



My personal bikepacking configuration is ever adapting. I don't use some calcified "system" that locks me in to a "right" way of doing things. With the Revelate frame bag, if I'm thoughtful, I can fill all the nooks and crannies and fit a surprising amount of kit in there. If I ever meet that guy, I'm shaking his hand- he has changed the way I use bicycles to the good. Having the weight in the frame, rather than wiggling away outside the center of gravity, allows for way more ripping. Way more. I felt like I really nailed it this time, but I could have brought more beers and some whiskey if I'd a been willing to suffer a pack (temps in the 90s?! No thanks). As it was, I strapped the sleeping bag to the barends I have mounted aero style. It's an old Slumberjack tube style stuff sack that I'd never used before, and it is pretty OK for that use. Makes me want a tubular dry bag. I strapped the tarp swaddled sleeping pad to the underneath of that, and then of course things began acumulating...



After all the hot and sweaty, Pacheco Camp has a shower!



Post shower, the hardships began. I had plenty of light left to walk around and hassle the local turtles (the Pacific Pond Turtle Actinemys marmorata- which could be my totem for Henry Coe, because "though slow and plodding, pond turtles are capable of impressive movements", I reckon they travel from swimming hole to swimming hole, and they have some impressive claws. There was time to eat a burrito packed in from El Frijolito, in keeping with Coe tradition. Still time to set up for the campfire, etc. And it was after my campfire tallboy that I really felt the lack of a shot and another beer. No one can have everthing. I consoled myself by sleeping out of doors between 2 oaks (to keep the very bright moon at bay) in the specially comfortable vortex that is Pacheco Camp. I really like it there.

When I first began sleeping outside alone it was scary, even with a tent. I'd wake up a lot, with all the little noises potentially scareful. No way past it except through it. These days, while I remain vigilant, it's pretty alright. I'm comfortable sleeping out under the stars solo. You hear a lot more when you aren't talking. It's worth doing.

there're only _ things in life that make it worth living

Ain't nobody feeling no pain.



Getting back to the basics of love can be handled any number of ways. We find bikes to be a access point. In keeping with our imaginary non-binding pledge to try to attempt a campout once a week, the boys and I headed out Sunday night for a stealthy schoolnight bike campout. Make an anachronysm out of that, why don't you?



In the interest of speed, we pared the load all the way down close to the bone. Sleeping stuff only. A take-out sandwich for dinner and the plan to get up and at it coffeeless and early for breakfast. Bold choices are required in certain circumstances.

We took the long way up the hill (it's dirtier) and wandered some on some trails until coming to the spot along my commute at which I'd hidden some beers last week



...because it's pretty much always a good idea to have some options. D_____ self IDs as a skater (he's all about that Skate Life), so pretty quickly the romance was over and I offered to take his pack in an attempt to maximize the enjoyment for him (he's 14). What the heck, it's fun for me regardless. I got a big dumb bike, pile it on. I tried to get J______ to give me his pack (he's 9), and he got offended and told me "NO. I'm not trying to add to your weight." Now, he is a pleaser, and given to the gratuitous ass-kissing, but the fact that he looked at it in those terms made my Grinchy heart swell. Later, when he was hot and red, he agreed to dump his pack on the Big Dummy.

Part of the choice for this week's location was showing the boys what is available to them, from their door, in terms of self-powered adventure. They don't need me to guide them on these trails. It's close enough, with safe enough traffic on the access, that it is wide open for kids.



And so this whole weekly campout scenario is a fine idea however you approach it, but not least on account of my skills are so rusty that I plain forgot to set up the new Crazy Creek Big Tarp* (used to good effect by C___ the machine on the Condor Tour and available thru QBP at your local bike shop!). I just popped a top and got to the twig and small branch gathering. We set up the fire on a trash-can lid that has been out there since I stumbled across this fine beer-drinking break spot.



aside: the forest floor in these parts is composed of duff, which makes for magic carpet trails and it creates a nice springy sleeping surface, but is also flammable as hell. This duff is inches thick.  A fire that catches this subsurface fuel can smoulder and spread a surprising amount. We are extremely cautious with our small, contained, and controllable twig fire. Hence the trash can lid in the middle of a bare, scraped-out circle of actual soil (dug down several inches to reach). In the morning, we used 3litres of water to out the fire, stirred the ashes in the mud, and re-sodded the whole area. You cannot tell we were ever there.



Sitting in the woods at night is a balm to your aches, whatever they may be. I balmed it up with some 1/4 full crescent moon through the pines and a 1/2 full beer in hand. Repeat 8 times. Moments like that is what it's about. Tell yourself whatever you like.



D_____ opted to sleep in the hammock. J______ and I took the forest floor.

I slept poorly. The tarp wasn't tied down at all corners, so there was an excess of tarp on tarp noise in the mild breezes we got. And I neglected to set up a pillow until pretty late into it. And it is some edge of suburbia type hoboing (one of the best kinds!) which lends itself to raccoons and skunks, neither of whom is afraid of your candy-ass and both of whom enjoy the people food hanging in a tree. But, I did wake up painless. The bed at home is too soft. My pine duff and Zrest (indestructible! cannot go wrong! what price, flawless performance? bulk. worth it?  you sleep on a flat/popped inflatable pad and tell me.)

The boys? I had to shake them awake at 5:56AM.



I was proud when J got up, out of his bag, and without being asked just began stuffing it. We boogied to break camp and begin the downhill to breakfast and school. An hour after waking up, we were sitting down to bagel sandwiches.

Everbody got to school on time. When (if) asked "where did you camp?" The proper response is, "I don't know."












*I cannot say enough good things about using a tarp for shelter. Light and compact. Useful in a variety of configurations. Weather? Pfft. Talk to me about the all night hailstorm during which my only complaint was being a little too warm. What else? If the bugs are so bad that you need a tent, it's likely a shitty time every time you stop anyhow and that's not my idea of fun. You do what you want, I'm using a tarp.