cuts deeply into men's hearts

It don't stop...



I got home from the Condor and (literally) laid around for 2 days. But, Spring Break won't wait. Now, no one in the family but me is enthusiastic about Henry Coe,  they claim it's too steep (OK, true) with no redeeming value (false!) and decline to return. So we loaded up the Surly Big Dummy and drove ourselfs over to the Arroyo Seco side of things.



The boys and I rolled out mid-afternoon, to be joined by our queen bee around dark.  She brought burritos out with her. That's how seriously we take this adventure stuff.



How could things go smoothly? While packing the bikes I decided to cram the 26+ front wheel in the Big Dummy, since it would be all dirt and that's a muuuuch cushier ride. Hey, I've done it before. But- and there's always a but- I neglected to think about the fact that since the last use, I'd re-installed the front rack and it didn't clear the top of the 26+. So we lingered in the buggy parking lot while I tried to raise the rack. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that barring a complete removal and re-installation it would not be perfect. There was a buzz twice a revolution. Of course I attempted to run it. We got onto the dirt road before I cracked and removed it entirely. With such a load on such a bike, it doesn't really matter if the front end is weighted in terms of balancing things, so NBD. I sent D back to the car to stow it. J and I continued lumbering onward.

D caught up with us a bit later, and I asked him where his pack was...




...so he went back to get it. He's been there enough he knows the way.




This type of thing.










1st things 1st, I sent J down to the river to make a corral for those beers. The boys got a 40-piece container of gum and chewed up the whole thing in 2 days. Which reminds me- _ick had some fancy Japanese caffeine gum he'd pull out on the Condor, and every time I scrambled over to nab a piece like a trained monkey. That stuff was clutch in the darker moments of bonk...


Still kind of dismayed at how imposing this monster tent is...





Some folks just like to read in comfort. Their adventure is a bug-free zone and a nice book.



Other folks like a good game.



...and that damn bocce set must have weighed 12lbs. Not kidding. So it was 3 days, 2 nights of lounging. We hiked some, and played games some, and sat on rocks in the middle of the river after demanding that our youngest child go somewhere else so we could enjoy the peace and nature sounds and coffee undisturbed some, and enforced some swimming (well, the water was still pretty cold- and actually fairly silty too, from the recent rains) some, and watched the campfire burn some, etc. Mellow camping.




Kids these days...

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.

to all my neighbours, you got much flavour

This is the Life we chose...we jumped off the block like ready, set, GO!

While my little homies don't call me Brainiac, Reverend Dick is a _______ and it ain't an act. With so much "specialization" (take it how you will) of bikes in this ya time, it is some refreshing Good Times to just get on a bike, any bike, and ride around with no particular place to go. Ask a child if you already didn't know.





One street leads to a trail which leads to...this time it was Point Lobos. Again? Because we live near it, it is an "easy" choice. It is also a very worthwhile choice. There is a lot to check out over there, even if they won't allow riding the trails in the park (lame!). There are some short, little-but-worthwhile trails along the shore leading to the highway section they are free to rally whenever, and those are what we took to get started. Riding HWY1 is no joke. So much so, I won't let the boys loose to make the trip unsupervised. When they are older and paying smart attention to traffic, I hope they are still interested in going. Because that is when I will allow it.





We rode in and the fellas wanted to keep heading West, so we wandered on over to the trailhead for Cypress Grove Trail, where the grouchy docent ("to all the bitches who think they bootylicious...") told the boys they couldn't climb trees on account of "it's a reserve". That's one way to dampen kids' enthusiasm for the out of doors. Shaking off the heavy school marm vibe, we rolled over to some other spots and checked out the Pacific Ocean and how wet it is, and how far out you can throw rocks into it, and how there's crabs in tide pools next to it, and etc.



 Bike punks with their bike pile.






It's plain to see. You can't change me. Cuz I'm a be connected to Life.

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...

guides you through uncomfortable questions...

I don't need to know everything. Neither do I want. Secret stuff stays secret if folks don't say anything about it. So the minute you start running your mouth about riding ____ ______, is exactly the minute I regret* ever having said boo. What's the first rule of any club?




Hanging out with 9 year olds has certain advantages. They are generally down for a Good Time, and I respect that. We did some "stealth" camping last week which I am sure blew up our spot- the close one- for good. The poor old gal walking her fancy dog was surprised to see hobos invading her neck of the woods, is all I'm saying. Lesson (finally?) learned- time for a new and more tucked away spot.

That picture above is the neighborhood peloton rolling deep down HWY1 to Point Lobos (where they disallow bikes on the trails, sadly...though the roads are pretty mellow it being a state park and all. And where we need to really suss out the legitimate camping opportunities really and for real) like a gaggle of tentative baby ducks. We had a nice time.



The ride is about 1/3 dirt, too. And of course, right next to the Pacific if you are into that.



I have collected some odd bits and fashioned them into a 24" rough stuff roadish bike for J. Super jerry rigged Schwinn Sprint (c.1980?), so a tank fo sho, but and hecka sweet, He rallied it down the loose seaside singletrack. 24"x1.75...it is stable as hell. He's feeling the drops out. So far so good.



Bikes. Bike rides.

Also, I finally got J____ S____, long time shop supporter, to come out and see what his AWOL can do...he got his eyes opened, and so did I as to the magicality of getting around by bike. You forget, being immersed in it, that biking for transportation and adventure are the same. He was so blown away that he's lived on the Monterey Peninsula (a real scenic place) for 20someodd years and had no idea about the routes we took, nor the ease with which we took them (no cars on trails and fireroads...).



And I keep listening to this:




because it's good.













*Regrets? I've had a few. I wished I'd a stuck to the old ways and never said anything out loud. All communication about the off-piste is handled with waggled eyebrows and jerks of the head. Then nobody is the wiser that there even is a secret much less, wonders what it might be...

Anyhow, my motto has become: I might show you, but I'll never tell you.

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.

emerge unscathed

The trails are dry. Dried out. Tracks from days and days and days and days are right there, in the trail, for all to see. This is concerning when certain trails are (supposedly, hopefully, as much as possible) secret. Well, because entrances are getting blown out. Too much exposure, you understand.

On the other hand, I don't know if it's the extended drought or just timing, but a lot (a lot) of the deadfalls are rotted and dry enough to move off trail. A couple of those log cuts where the trail crew (sucks) didn't do more than just cut out the section blocking trail, and the log is at a diagonal so the cut is an awkward corner- yep, cleaned up. That emergency exit trail is going to be a lot (a lot) faster now.

Meat Life? Meat Life Volunteerism? I'll do some on a trail, in the woods.









>break<









J and I put some new meat on the (other) trails. His buddy, _____y, joined us for some kid stuff.



_____y has a clapped out "excitor" 20" dually which needed more love than I could give it then. We did what we could without new cables/housing/long enough seat post. He's got a Xmas request in, and since it's August he just danced with the one that brung him. I can respect that.



His folks don't ride, so he doesn't do this sort of thing. I reckon all children are made of rubber and boundless (OK, easily replenished short burst after easily replenished short burst's worth of) energy, so I don't coddle. We got snacks and we got drinks (sodas, even!) so we got going. He caved mildly about 7.6/8 of the way and was told that he was crazy, which he took in stride, and we rode the rest of the way out.



If you are tired of your usual, I recommend toting a 9 year old's idea of fun out to a rope swing. Shoot some BB gun/soda can skeet and live it up.

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.

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.

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...

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.

a smooth get away

The time is right for riding in the _____s. You picks your lines and you takes your chances. What with the warmth and the extra  evening hours, it's a bonanza. I got the boys' bicycles all dialed and lubed, and we went riding. Out to the New Stairs for some Brown Lunch...

 ...tofu dogs. J gathered miner's lettuce (Claytonia perfoliota) for a salad, as it is going ca-razy all over right now. While waiting on the nice, quiet twig fired Kelly Kettle to do it's work, we set up the hammock and did some lounging, and some tree climbing. Those fellas are agitating to bring the rope swang back out there, and that is prolly a good idea since it is getting frayed at the contact spot with the horse bridge and should be retired from that use. D says we shoulda brought the BB guns and he is correct.

After, it was a short pedal over to Rattlesnake to check under the board...




...and there were 2! The second is just up and to the left of the obvious snake. This board is far enough off the trail that they are seldom bothered by dilettantes; it is some singularly focused hasslers only. We employed the Snakecharmer 9000 to induce some tail wagging. You can feel the fat-bodied menace. After an exciting lunge or 3, the boys were very ready to get back to bikes.

This is training for life and happiness. We are thinking of big ideas, and one of them is the notion of camping out once a week. That is a idea with which we can roll.

a whole new blog

This one's for the people.

We crept out to the secret spot, my riding buddies and I. And we stowed our crap behind the tree (hung the food bag up high) so's to set the scene for some fast and loose.

There was the required fiddling with bikes that haven't been ridden in a while- the saddle height adjusting, and the refresher talk in regard to shifting. There was not the talky talk about gear and the new new. These fellas don't care (SO refreshing). They are in it for the smiles.

Well, and because I require their participation. Given the choice, there will always be the quick and easy. TV, computer, facetime, Minecraft, skate park, or whatever's next are the rathers but after the ultimatum there are no frowns to speak of and the little reservations are quickly forgotten when the trails shifts, narrows, and swoops.

 Secret Boys. We don't say.

Sun goes down, adventure goes on.

When we are done wringing the last drops out of this Good Time, we roll out.

 There is no sign we were ever there at all.

(fond) farewell to Summer

This is the way Summer ends, and it ain't a whimper. No whingeing!

As per the way of things, we rolled out of the driveway at 3:39pm. Well, there was some stuff to find, some stuff to pack, some stuff to organize, then the bikes revealed their various issues- including but not limited to: broken spokes, misaligned brakes, flat tyres, a whole new rear end for the Big Dummy, and the old standby...loose bottom bracket. Etcetera.

Why not find/pack/organize/wrench the day(s) before? Oh please. Like you have it all together. And, plus where is the exciting frustration in that?

Bros only. The ladies were to join the party the following evening. We asked around, and of the boys' friends only _ooper was on board. He had no idea. His folks don't camp, and he doesn't do a whole lot of outdoors. Still, nothing trumps Willing. It is all you need.


Since the government of this country (don't kid yourselfs everbody else, either) is run by monied interests, the park was "closed." Not closed to anyone who doesn't need the government added "value" of a shitty paved campground and enclosed pit toilets. Still, I briefed the boys on stealth.

We were like ghosts.

Any of you following at home have surely noticed how I am employing the slow boil frog torture technique to my children in terms of loading them progressively heavier each time out. It is working great. Also, J took the 24" this go round. He is getting bigger.

Here he is, passing the FNG.

That was Day 1. We arrived and set up camp. The older boys were sour that I'd only brought the 4 man tent and they didn't have their own. I did not care about their feelings in this matter, especially as I was sleeping outside the stinky boy tent anyhow.



Day 2= lounging. Coffee, oatmeal, and waiting for the temps to warm up enough to swim.  We divided our time amongst the swimming holes. The water was COLD. There was also a deer leg in the creek downstream from the horse bridge (now flagged as unsafe for pack stock...), which was a source of fascination and revulsion. Later we found another leg, and then the full remains. There are lions out there, and I love it.

After lying on my sleeping pad for a couple hours in my fly proof suit while the boys yelled and threw things in the creek,

I rolled out to meet the ladies. They reckoned riding in at night would be "scary". That whole process took some time, and almost went awry. I'd forbidden the boys fires and knives while away, and told them I'd be back well after dark. It is good for them.

After a successful moonlight cruise, we showed up with burritos and partied. Happy circumstance that the kids' "Fall Break" fell on the week leading up to the Full Moon! The ladies brought minimal gear in with them, but did bring another tent...

so the boys got their very own satellite camp, and in the morning J stunk it up for them.

And, base camp...

As an aside: food bags were hung from the oak limbs behind the tent. Trash, too, at night. We did have a visiting skunk for nights 2 and 3 (even disciplined camper kids will drop food, etc) but they are bad climbers. No problems.

 The wild cherries (Prunus ilicifolia) were going crazy.

And so were the tarantulas (Aphonopelma eutylenum).

We were careful with them. Nobody wants to hurt a big hairy spider. Though...I'd be lying if I said the idea of a tarantula vs. big-ass crawdad did not occur to us. Relax. We just staged that in our minds' arenas. Think about it. My money is on the crawdad.

Boba Fet in her bug-proof suit. It was awfully buggy. Moving around was fine, and the water was fun, but there was NO relaxing in camp. It did not spoil the fun, but I'd be remiss to not mention them.

Brooks saddles.

 Day 4 dawned. We moved quickly, since L had to be at work by 11am. The ladies left us with most of their gear, and went their own way...

We found so much trash left out. What kind of person goes out with a packing blanket and a pair of dorky white sneakers? The kind of person that leaves same tied up in a tree "for later". I'm totally in favor of this guy's can-do attitude, and completely disgusted with his soft, self-indulgent bail-out.

J caught a Pacific gopher snake (Pituophis catenifer catenifer) on the way back out.

That right there is what it's about. You don't need any fancy gear to go out in the woods and have a fancy time.

“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.”

 John Muir knew what was up .

 

 D, behind my freaky floating collar bone.

The dregs of a Good Time.



Hey. Do NOT get hung up over gear. Don't let a perceived lack prevent you from a kick-ass adventure. All's you need is a pair of sneakers, a packing blanket, and the Will to keep a hold of them...