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.

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.

open up your heart

Ah, Bitch Irony has done attempted to break my heart. It runs so deep. To begin, know that I am resistant to "new" bicycle tech. Well, on of account of having been that kid who wants the new new because it's new and surely the manufacturer has all the bugs worked out and is bringing to market a truly improved product that is a real world game changer and plus it's shiny this year. You understand. And then, I have been that guy in the back who only wants to run what they brung, too. These days I kid myself my current stance is one of balance and poise.

If I don't do it, somebody else will.





So then, looking back at this decade or so of dipping my toe further into the muck of disc brakery, you must recognize the extensive use of mechanical discs for what it is. What it has been. A nod to the Real real world practicablity of use, such that when (if?) one does experience technical probrems they are of an easily solveable nature, viz. fitting a new braided steel cable,etc and vs. the trouble and expense of replacing hydraulic line and potentially (likely?) pads as well, to say nothing of the toxicity inherent in the DOT fluid and how that reflects poorly on us as a species.

Like Galileo dropped a orange.





And then finally having gotten comfortable with the vagaries of the hydraulic systems, after finding one (1) that consistently and quietly works (Shimano, bitches...AND it's the non-toxic mineral oil!) I go and put it on my own bike and just love the hell out of it. It's easier on these tired out forearms. It works (mountain, anyhow...LMFAO @ the early adopters of the sram it down your throat hydraulic road garbage...but it's new! And shiny!). And after all the times folks have used their hydro and not had probrems, I slowly, creepingly, stopped considering them a sure-fire hazard and the shift has been gradual but certain that hydro is not necessarily evil, not necessarily a sure-fire fun ender if crashed.

You see where this is going. I patted myself on the back for getting the workingman's Deore brakes and keeping it real with this 3rd foray, having used the SLX to good effect after the weak XTR of 2006 or so. I put them on yesterday, in anticipation of this big dumb tour, and there was no trouble in sight. And then I went up that hill with a saw strapped on the bike- because it needs doing plus it's fun to have a mission and plus it's just fun to run a big saw. I figured I'd make a real test ride out of it. I put the big front wheel on the Ogre because it worked so nice in Death Valley and I wanted to be certain it is the right choice this go round.

And it will be, after I fix this severed hydraulic line.






Yep. Railing it a little bit faster than conditions (being my skills) will allow, I dumped the front end. Well, I was flush with so much success. Alas, the front rack clipped the line as the result of the bar twisting crash. And here is the irony- after having zero issues with the mechanical disc brakes that had been mounted on that bike for a couple years, including with that same front rack in that very same mounted position and with other crashes under my belt aboard same (because, let's face it) I had changed the routing of the rear brake line from the most lateral guides to the "protected" underneath the down tube guides, which change in clearance (of 4 or 5mm max, BTW) was my downfall. I had considered and authorized this switcheroo and thought myself clever.

Of course I've learned, now. Not like any of these type of issues is in my future anymore.