I don't like ______, oh no. I love it.

Oh yeah.



That one guy (the one who showed) and I slept outside on our local celebration of the full moon. It was cool, except that so and so crashed  and banged his shoulder on the Earth. If it's not obvious: riding with no lights and crashing are potential best friends. To quote Professor Griff, "consider yourselves...warned." We were pretty far in the bag at that point, as well as pretty far into the local trail system, so the logical course of action was to crack another beer and see how it went. His shoulder felt better after (imagine!) so on we rolled, concentrating on trucking right.



Morning arrived, as it will, and the shoulder pain with it. Being resourceful fellows, we rode out of the woods and over to the donut shop for extraction. On the way, we passed several of the local PRO hobos, and it was amusing to witness their reactions to our amateur/heavily-funded camping via bicycle steez. We were definitely noticed, and in a manner that smacked of peer review. Overall, I felt accepted; judgments were mild. We are all alive in this moment, and if some of us woke up in the woods as a matter of choice and others of us emerged from our tents behind the Staples in Cside(!) as a matter of circumstance, well there are parallels.


At home, after my foray into the local scene, I repacked my gear for the coming safari. That is to say, I filled a backpack with food for 2 nights/3 days of climbing up steeps in Henry Coe.



The overnight gear remained in place. I have referenced before the terrible unfairness of having to pack "everything" for just an overnight; how it is all too much. Weather conditions being the same, the only extras for multi-day trips are (more) food, water filter*, and perhaps more repairs stuff (ex. a spare tyre (not kidding))?!? I can't shake this irrational sense that the load on the bike should reflect the length of time out on tour. It's a problem with which I wrassle. So, and then the front end was all rackless (as you know) and all bagful. I have made adjustments to the lashing-on of the sleeping pad and the drooping/buzzing is eliminated, but I remain unimpressed. That seatbag is all Kelly Kettle (Never carry fuel again! But don't kid yourself- get the large model. You're already carrying the bulk, might as well go all in. TRUST me on this one thing) and flip flops. Yeah buddy, it's December. California...knows how to party.


All strapped up at the watering hole.

For off-road touring, I have been pushing the 29+, front and rear Surly Krampus, with3" Knards on 50mm Rabbit Holes. It's a solid set up for actual trail riding whilst loaded. This bike offers a lot of cushion in general, taking the edge off. The big float allowed me to wheelie drop the flow-stopping gap on Pacheco Creek Trail (so nice...) which  certainly would have remained a stifler for me on standard wheels, and allowed for some easy planing across washes floored with baby heads. I have considered the various merits of the Krampus vs. The ECR, and my kung fu is best practiced aboard a rally matchine.  Surly does offer a Krampus fork with more braze-ons, so my magic 8 ball says "signs point to yes" when asked if this is in my future...I can have my rack and you can eat it, too.


_odd's rig. 



My partner has his own "system". This go round, he front-loaded. Loss of traction while climbing was one result. We laugh at ourselves for doing this stuff with fair regularity and yet shifting our set-ups around so much. You'd think we would get good at this. Someday. Someday my set-up will be perfect.


Black Cat Bicycles custom front rack is pretty dialed, though...

One thing _odd has down pat is his snacks. I am so jealous when he pulls out the mango chutney?!? But then I forget all about it, and when packing my own foods I blow it. There is (usually- ask me about the powder sandwiches) enough, but it lacks pizzazz. My planning thus far has always been by meal. So I have a breakfasts bag, a lunches bag, and a dinners bag. Snacks are in they own bag, which is easily accessed. I was super hungry this trip. Noticeably. Maybe it was the cold, but I'm a change up my food prep. I think I'll pack by day. Seems like I will be more mindful looking at the day's worth of food rather than a big mash-up of breakfasts and another of lunches, etc. We will see.





Pssst. There is a whiskey stash at Drunkards' Knee (or Boozers' Roost, if you prefer).



Bring tools, do trail work.



I even have it written on my notebook, but do I remember it? Sometimes. So far, never for Coe, as I'm always flipping out about how to pack the seemingly mountainous pile of crap I end up with in order to just be able to swing being out there at all.

Well, Yes and Finally! _odd brought a pull saw. It's not much, but it does a lot. More than that, it creates a mindset such that stopping to deal with snags/blow-downs/etc becomes "what you do." We put in some pretty OK work. The trails we rode are the better for us having been there.




My new/current totem? A long-ass detour to a large bald eagle.





*the Platypus in-line filter is a neat tool. It is SO much nicer to fill a bag and trill rather than hunch waterside and madly flail away with a pump filter. Really. The "dirty" reservoir has it's outtake valve set about 20mm up from the bottom so particulate will settle below, and not clog the filter. Smart. Plus, you can forgo carrying extra bladders and use the "dirty" and "clean" required for filtering as your storage. Though I prefer the durability of a cordura sided MSR bladder, it is a feature worth noting.

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?

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....

every man his own horse

We used to laugh so hard at this. Except for the dope beat, no laughing at that. 




Whole lot a whoa. Some road tyres (venerable [for a reason] Panaracer Paselas 35F/32R) mounted on the cross bike for a down and dirty hot lap of the Monterey Peninsula's hottt spots. Sunshine, short sleeves, stretchy pants. Putting the wood to the legs, tracking down the Good Times. They are out there, down that one trail, around the corner and up the street a ways.




Word on the street trails is this spot is due for some stools. The New Stairs is the New Caprock Bar? Makes sense to me.








All kinds of sandy corners getting sandier, getting deeper. With the slicks, you think the getting is good on the road (it is, the sweeping swoops and the maximum speed for effort)...try leaning into the different tactilities of dirt. It is exciting!

a notorious creampuff

Here are some things:

 




Your "religion" is actually a Cargo Cult. Stings, don't it. If it makes you feel any better, you can send me your $15 and I'll tell you what to think and believe, take some of the pressure off. Same diff, only I will be a benevolent despot. I promise.

So...a big (BIG!) upcoming bikecamping expedition has me examining all of my gear selection. What you know about this?

Aw yeah. That fairing sock? in a flesh tone? with a integrated 6pack cooler? and some short shorts? You know, to get the mostest out of the aero-legs. It could be the next big thing.

Could be. Now, I'll hand you a list: Aptos Creek fireroad, Buzzard Lagoon, Highland Way, Summit Rd, Morill Rd, Wright's Station Rd, some stuff I can't categorize, Aldercroft Heights Rd, Old Santa Cruz Highway, Mtn Charlie Rd (in with a whisper), Glenwood Dr, Granite Creek Rd, Branciforte Dr, Mountain View Rd, Laurel Glen Rd, Soquel San Jose Rd, Olive Springs Rd, Aptos Creek fireroad.

Cross bikes. I sit here with recovery legs. It got so tough up Olive Springs with the cramping. I'd shift around on my saddle, trying to maneuver my pelvis into different alignments so as to spread the over-work over a wider range, which sort-of worked; the cramps would lessen, and then shift themselves over to a different group of muscles. No lie, I could walk my cramps around. Ridiculous. It got to the point where I was only actively engaging muscles to kick away from myself as everything else musclewise was roached. Then I had to get off and walk up the darkening fireroad. Horrible and glorious. I blame myself, since it is revealed that my hot button is being called "soft". Seriously, it's like taunting a caged animal




my response is Pavlovian. I first declined to add the heinously steep Olive Springs to the end of the ride, was accused of "getting soft", and before I knew what had happened I'd agreed to the extra like a reflex bypassing my brain. Dumb.

I have some work to do to be ready for the stern mileage headed our way. And since I'm heading in a new fashion direction for this outing, I have some outfits to plan. If you see any discount gold rope chains, let me know. I'm a get my shit together, boy.

1st hand proof

 A morning will follow even the blackest night, and when your day opens out in the woods, with the continuation of a long bike ride, it is bright indeed. Oh! But they're weird and they're wonderful!

1st things 1st, it is time for coffee. I used to bring my fancy tiTAINium coffee press, but after repeatedly witnessing the practical ease of simply using a hankerchief for some passable cowboy coffee, I no longer bring that. It was not heavy or particularly bulky, but it did take up the space of a can of beer in a crowded and limited pack. And you're gonna need a hankerchief anyhow. I like my coffee strong, and black, and NOW. So, as soon as the sleeping bag opens, it is time to gather some twigs and fire up the Kelly Kettle.

Then it is time for poo.

It is a given on a campout that there will be lots of talk concerning poo- the details, the choicest spots, the inquiries as to who remembered the man-wipes. This offers a nice segue into our conversation regarding the inimitable Conway Twitty. Mr. Twitty is clearly a demented and filthy genius and a product of the 1970s in America in the worst and most iconic way. Witness:

...so rotten. Bom bom bom.

 The bike I used on this go round:

...the trusted Surly NeckRomancer frame, with a twist.

I already had the 29+ front wheel (with the dyno hub, which is a must for an adventure bike in my book), which has proven itself an asset when loaded. I dig the fat tyres in the chunky and the creek bottom and such, but they are pee eye gee PIGS. I get tired of lugging them around when there is a lot of rolling to be done. The Pugsley frame supposedly accepts 29+, so I built a 135mm (offset) rear on a Rabbit Hole to try on for size. (As an aside, I appreciate the fact that Surly stuck with a platform that allows you to dick around with your existing gear as much as possible and not yet another "standard" (looking at you 170 y 190).)

That bike's stock fork is a 135mm non-offset Moonlander (447mm axle-crown), though, which precludes the use of a 100mm dynohub (which is a must for an adventure bike in my book) so I had to use the Krampus fork (483mm axle-crown) I had laying around. Less than ideal, yes but- BUT I did have it to hand, just lying there...so on it went. The Krampus fork pushed the front end up 36mm! by my math. I haven't measured how much it raises the BB. This isn't that scientific a blog; it's more of a ...gut feeling kind of blog. So, yes, floppy (slack). Flexxxxxxxy. Eh, fine. Steering suffered- ask T_dd about laughing at my straight lining the sharp downhill skibble turns, but it paid off in terms of floaty power. I think I will get an ECR fork (468mm axle-crown),with the braze-ons for the stuff, and run that. It's close enough for clown fun. Imagine a rope swing. You jump on, let it fly and then it gets all G'd out with the compressing swoop, which builds and deepens into the curve until finally slinging you out the other side with smiley quickness.

I rode this bike in spite of it's flaws because (how bad could it get?) I wanted to get a feel for the 29+ platform. To me, I like it. It has a lot of the traction for climbing of the fat bike, a lot of the float, and (feels like anyhow) none of the draggy, boggy slowness. Consider me a fan.

Happy as I am with the Surly in general, I am terribly unhappy about the Surly OG OD crank. The top cap (non-drive arm keeper?) backed itself out and fell off, and the crank arm did the same just before this trip. That is the 2nd time. I had already replaced the top cap once, when it had ejected and gotten lost, and this was the replacement lost. Those cranks had all kinds of loosening issues. I will contact my Surly brothers and see what they say.

I heart Henry Coe State Park- where old party balloons come to die. I heart the mellow, parabolic creek-bed-side singletracks and I heart the top of it all fire road climbs. I like to give a special shout out to Wilson Ridge WHOOPdedoos down to Pacheco Creek...shit eating grins. For reals.

What? You need more Conway Twitty? Well all right.

...softly whisper pretty love words in your ear. Masterful! My Loretta Lynn Pandora station keeps throwing ol Conway at me, and I will admit I enjoy You're The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly, but.

All good things...

Bullshitting back at the start.

Black Cat Bicycles' adventure matchine. Custom.

...even the dust matches the fancy gold plating on the fork.

2 nights and 2 days of a Good Time. I feel like we're on to something. Party over here.

Safety 3rd

Look. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know here, when I say how great the bike camping is. You know all about the "hardships" involved- the working out (juggling) of schedules with adventure partners and the climBING! that is Henry Coe's stock-in-trade and the low lows and the high heights. It all works out.

Sunday night meet-up at the trailhead parking lot might mean a lot of moonlit sangletrack. Climb. Climb. Climb climb climb. We rolled (climbing) the ridge top for a while then. Deciding to drop down what felt like a full half of our hard earned up was a choice I made twice. At the top, of course it seemed like a fine idea, but a little ways down the 2nd guesses slip in and your confidence seems ill-founded. Can you really afford to lose all this elevation (and so quickly!)...what if we missed the turn? Etc. The serene, surreal feathered grasses all blown sideways by windy moonlight only underline the queasy thrill of dropping like a bad habit; no lights, half drunk, 3/4 moon, wholly joyful.


So, wake up at Wilson Camp:

Your bike had a party last night?

 It's a nice spot to ease on in to your camping out. A spring, a roofed "shelter" so you can cook "out of the wind". It was cold down in the bottoms, but up there it stays pretty mild.

 

 Fire roads from there. What? Yes, climbing. A hard winter's 65* day all day...

and Hoover Lake is testament to the continuing dryness. We came here in 2011, and it was booming. Look at it now. We considered lying cheek to muck with the parched bottom and thrusting our arms down in search of valuable doubloons or sunglasses or fishing hooks, but in the end just rolled away in search of some ripping singletrack descents.

Lunch at a high point. Always a nice time to break out the Kelly Kettle for some cowboy coffee.

My favored riding bibs- the shorty camo overhauls I found at the dingy thrift store in Craig, CO. Maybe it was Meeker. I forget, but it bears out the strategy of stopping to thrift shop...

Wide front load. I appreciate the 800mm bars for the steering when loaded. It helps.

T___ was using the Platypus Gravity Works in-line filter , and it beats the pants off sitting on an uncomfortable rock lake-side while awkwardly opening and closing my leaky Katadyn for 10 minutes. I will be getting that set up toot sweet...or as soon as it is back in stock at the QBP, anyhow.

After filling our bladders, we climbed up out of the cold lake bottom so we could sleep warm. The road bed was dead level and there was no risk of litter catching fire when cooking dinner. 

It was so still and quiet that it woke me up several times. The moon was bright enough to be a bother, if you can believe I said that. I ran out of booze. So, there was a lot of hardship up with which to put.

_odd claims he's not a expert bike tourer, he's "just a guy who likes to ride out into Henry Coe and get drunk". Now, I'm no expert neither but that sounds like the voice of reason at the least.

we don't break down, we bend up

Shakedowns are for fun. Figure out some options on some quick overnights and you won't have to make mistakes where they actually matter.

There is an upcoming trip in the planning stages (lots of hemming and hawing right now, on the emails) and it will require more in the way of food- and especially water- than I, at least, am used to. So a quick jaunt through the redwoods via roads and trails is not only fun, but if we're not careful we might learn a thing or 2.

I have already learned I do not love the inflatable sleeping pads on account of they are fragile. I do not love the bulk of the foam, but it can't pop. There is a lot to like about that. The above (I had to borrow a lilac bandana and a groundcloth) is what I had to stuff in/on my bike. I will not wear a pack unless I have no other choice.

Who's got what on riding your bike in some clothes that work by virtue of their materials, and not of their ad campaigns? People who know, know.

I know that T_dd loves to have his ish all tight- the Freedom System is all about modularity? I get confused. There are many buzz words being thrown around on that one, but my take away is that there's a lot of buckling down. That is somewhat at odds with my own approach, which is more organic in nature. In fact, it takes it's cues from nature and I don't even decide on it so much as have it revealed to me.


I believe I will try a different shifter arrangement. The bar-ends suffer when laying the bike down. I will also try another bar. And the rough tape hurt my delicate hands this time around.

Rubber bands are not structural, but they are useful. Neither of our set-ups rattled or failed in their containership. I will allow that I blew it on planning for the beer carrying capacity. I had to use my fall back- the humble giveaway mussette. This was a victory of sorts, in that I had thought to bring the damned thing, but also a loss because I then had to cycle a further ~35miles having it shift and sway, etc.

More of a victory, because I was not unhappy about any of it. Even though I popped a can inadvertently while laying the bag down too hastily after hopping a gate. What else to do but shotgun? And, a reminder that beers are liable to pop if jostled too much. Worth keeping in focus. See? Gentle lessons.

T packed burritos for lunch, and for dinner, and for breakfast, and for lunch again. I feel that this was neither here nor there in terms of learning about longer trips to remote areas.

The roads in the Santa Cruz mountains are ridiculously nice riding.

We made a slight detour to visit Mr. Hun_er. It was fun to drink beers and ride bikes with these 2 clowns while stocking away valuable tips regarding equipment choices, etc. Really and for real. The real world experience these guys bring to their craft is worth all times' worth of your internet searches. If you need a bike (of whatever sort) check out Hunter Cycles and Black Cat Bicycles.

Day ends when the sun goes down...

Recall T_dd breaking his hip in a rotten car/bike crashup. A factor of this upcoming tour is to usher him back into the ranks of healthy hipped bicycle riders. Of course, in light of this, I was unable to ever allow him to ride away (frankly, obligated by the unspoken laws of friendship and bicycle camaraderie to turn the screws on occasion), and so I spent much of the day at a faster pace than my usual. I began to suspect that there was not a whole lot of ushering to be done.

 I did not regret my choice of flat pedals,

especially when we rode back up and dropped our bags for a day's worth of unburdened riding. It is a fool who will not listen, and as I am not a great fool, I benefited from the flat pedal pointers given to me during the extensive singletrack portion of that day.  I shifted my foot off the pedal and aimed for the inside ("more inside") and I'll be damned! Switchbacks were so much easier/faster/funner. After all this time...

T_dd got a flat, and we both were reminded that it is important to bring a spare tube(s) and a patch kit, and a pump, etc. I had hurriedly shifted my tool kit from one bike to another, and had the wrong tube size.

We also saw a ladybug swarm. It's been several years since I laid eyes on one.