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.

if you were from where I'm from then you would know

Party over here on the West side.


#Iamthepublicworksdepartment. If it's relevant to bicycles. I work out.




Big boys don't cry. Even faced with some rainy inconvenience, Big Boys adjust their layers and keep pedaling. The heavy stuff isn't coming down for a while. Going to work=riding. My mood, when I arrive at the jay oh bee is much improved by riding as opposed to driving. MUCH IMPROVED. Put on yer plastic and charge it.




I see the upturned 'shrooms tossed off the side of the trail. I know what that signifies.MotherFUCKERS . It signifies jackasses are out here in my home trial system IDing/falseIDing some, and tossing others cuz they are indicators. They reckon if I can't see any _______s (plentiful and poisonous) I won't think to look for ________s (fat, tasty, and healthy!) because they like the same conditions...and they cover up they pits to hide they tracks?!? Attempt to. I see this all as I hot and bother my way up the climb, getting to work.

I am in danger of being late(r) to work. So I skip that one section of trail in favor of pave quickness, and I see the first pair of the day trippers hunching along with their bags. Then I spy the unmistakable bright honey brown from the corner of my eye and grab the brakes. I've dropped the bike and am striding into the trees before I'm thinking- that familiar and dear splash of color has triggered the fever.




I am gripped. Several plump and hard little piggies reveal themselves to me. I have a knife, and I have a musette. I slice the 'shroom to leave the mycelium as undisturbed as possible. I tap out the (very)few bugs present and try to loosen some spores in the locale. Then I cover the hole. Hell yes, I play this game. Are you kidding me? Porcinis (Boletus edulis) are fucking delicious. Like a fatty distillation of the forest floor. If you know, then you know.




Plus, with the drought we been having...last year I saw zero (0) total. The year before, only 2. It is some much delayed and well-anticipated hoot out loud type Goodness. For reals.

The woods are full of kooks. I am late. I text my dudes and tell them what they already know and lie about how soon I'll show. My bike ride has shifted gears of it's own accord. I am incapable of speed. To be quick is to miss possible treasure. It is exquisite.



Wut?

hot pants

It has been said, and that truthfully, that September Cross sucks. But, wait! It's September Cross starting tomorrow...and that is not gonna suck itself. So if you are around California's balmy central coast, then get your ass stuffed all up in something tight and take it to the races tomorrow for some hard men of the 65-72degrees and sunny action. We got some fun planned.

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.

king dingle dangle

"The price of anything is the amount of Life you exchange for it." - Henry David Thoreau

CCCX 2014 cyclocross is happening quick. Sunday September 7th!

I've got a feeling this will be a fun go-round...

secrets and lies

Welcome, Friends. It's been Spring Break over here on the W-izeye-izeye-est Coast this week, and we have been making bike tour while the sun shines. Some of you know how this is done. Salud! Some of you do not. Sad face. Clench your _____ and prepare for a know-how explosion:

You get your game face on.

You lay out the map and plan your route.

 You find a sucker to haul (most of) your stuff.

 You gather at the trailhead for a group photo, and you begin to pedal. If it is Henry Coe, you begin to pedal uphill.

 The 1st few switchbacks are a shake down. Gear will shift. Straps will slacken. Loads will reveal themselves to have been unbalanced. Etc.

 Strong riders come to the front.

Water carriers will head-down pedal to support their stars. It is the way of things.

There will be struggles.

 This post could be filled entirely with photos of us climbing. Climbing climbing climbing. My children know things many children do not. They know how to suffer, but that is common knowledge among the youth. They know the value of suffering.

...though I suspect they will not own up to this knowledge for some time. It is there.

 I can see it in their eyes.




My daughter brought a friend along to share the misery. We had another child in the line-up, but there was a sprained thumb. This would not have mixed well with some of the riding to be found along our route- which is the easiest approach to Kelly Lake that can be devised! It is a selective process, vetting children for a tour of this scope. The kids have more fun with a buddy, undeniably, but it is a small section of today's youngsters that will handle so much effort for "just" the pay-off of a backcountry lake and no other people around. And, having been through similar situations viz a viz other people's kids before, I'm damned if I'm allowing a bail-out for any reason other than serious medical. Full stop. My children know this, and bear it in mind when they are trying to recruit their victims companions.

My own dear wife informed me that this would be the one and only time I would have the joy of her company on a bike tour in Henry Coe. It was a sad-making blow, but not unexpected. The relentless climbing (and the wind was no small factor...) alone would have been enough to put her off, as she has no innate love for the bikes. Throw Kelly Lake Trail in and it is decided. I myself went over the bars headfirst there, flipped, and slid on my back head-downhill before executing a smart reverse sommersault and coming to my feet with a few choice words. Once you get the freight train of a Big Dummy loaded for 6 moving, it can be hard to maneuver rapid changes of direction. All of the kids rallied it.

We made it to Kelly Lake as the evening drew on and set up our camp. With L___ along, the food choices are both more and better than when I am solo parenting a trip. Everybody sat right down and snacked it up until it was time for dinner, s'mores, and bed.

Perfect.

___ing for people who feel too much

Dude comes into the shop the other day, sniffs the air and decides to open with "1st ride of the season!" That settles and mechanic Y decides to bite, "Oh yeah? I guess you live in the snow." That had no time to settle, Dude was waiting for it,"Oh yeah. Moab. You been there? You should really think about going." I just laughed when I heard that. It was nobody I knew, but he was quite the local.

Other folks really from Moab came into town with the go ahead for some Fort Ord loops. Lots of surprise and dismay at the fresh to them devastation. Mollified somewhat by those sweet singletrack loops that used to be ridden only by Old T____, and which are now our staples. Rolling through some Coast Live Oaks (Quercus agrifola)*, some blue skies and some 62 degrees can make you look on the bright side.

I cut through that one hillside and rode out to meet them, cuz to me, at this stage, I'm real tired of Ord. To be honest, the dirt was the stuff of legend. Winter over here is good to you. That bottomless sand tacks up so nice. I'm still tired of it. Dragging around some new eyes did help me see some more options for project riding out there. It was fun showing off  the shrine to folks who really appreciate it. I think I'll make some more. Moab could certainly use one(s).

Tomorrow we will poke around over to the dried out creek bed side of things. They've never been there, and it should be in their bag of options. Woulda coulda shoulda Coe, but there are buts.

If you like the old cycling photos, then you will like the Il Dolore.


*wiki says: In the 18th and 19th centuries shipbuilders sought out the odd angular branches to make special joints. Pioneers moving west would harvest small amounts for making farm implements and wagon wheels, but the greatest impact was the wholesale clearing of oak woodlands to erect sprawling cities such as San Diego and San Francisco. The irregular shape often let the tree escape widespread harvest for building timbers, and also led the early settlers to endow the Coast Live Oak with mystical qualities. Its stateliness has made it a subject of historical landscape painters throughout California modern history since the mid-19th century.

with a hippity hop and a hippity ho

With the howlingest of howls. The Full Kick Ass Moon remained shrouded both of 3 nights running, riding, looking. The misty fog did seem lit from within (though that may have been us) and it was enough to creep along at a pace that felt scary fast but wasn't. Fast. It was a little scary. But, as we all know, the trails in Fort Ord are comprised of a magical sand which luminesces during Full Moons. If you missed it, you're ______. I won't even go into reasons, cuz there are only 12 and all of them irrefutable. Monterey.Pfffft.

I ride my bike.

No ride is only good stuff. If you have driven to the sweet trailhead, well- among things left unsaid, that was the bad part. A real ride, which is one wherein you have been riding the entirety, will have it's bits of...for example, Cside. Bits which must be gotten through to get to the Goods. Obviously we all try to minimize the negative. It is impossible to avoid completely, so just cut through the Embassy Suites p-lot, catch the light perfectly, and head down GO! up Sonoma. SS heaven. Perfect go fast grading. You can catch and pass the weirdo commuter that ch-ch-chugged past you on the bike path with his running suit wind pants tucked into his white socks as he huffs and puffs up Broadway. The secret? Don't even look at him as you smoothly pull by.

Point being: there is fun to be had aboard your bicycle. What do you want to do with your Life?

I TOLD you cha cha heels!

Lay off me! I hate you! ____ you, ____ you both, you awful people! You're not my parents! I hate you I hate this house I hate the interweb!






My favorite part is the mother lying under the tree crying. John Waters is a genius and he's captured just how I feel about you people.

In unrelated developments, you know that one thing I was talking about? Well I went out there, under cover of darkness, and climbed up on my bike and used a wrench and my height to my advantage. It was at least 30 solid minutes of standing on my saddle on one leg and then the other, switching hands and grunting...but I got it. Problem was, I had no means of carrying it so I did how we do and hid it in the bushes.

This was Friday evening, you understand, the day none of y'all could be bothered to ride under some moonlight. Yeah, I heard what you said. Whatever. 75% full is 100% full enough for FUN. Full stop.

Anyhow, and so, I had a go back up there today to fetch it. This is because a) the bushes are only so secure, and 2) I had a big pack into which I could stuff it. I had a big pack because it was necessary to carry all my junk for a s240 (that's computer/bike dork code for Sub24hourOvernight, where you ride out and camp real quick).



Why, yes, it did rain like hell for what seemed like all night.



Mr.S and Mr.Y went along. Because Mr. Y is a giant weenie, and hasn't ridden in a month, his "hematoma" was giving him the business to the tune of get off our bikes right in the middle of the climb and camp right then and there. This turned out to be such a disguised blessing on account of how the rain began in earnest just as we were finishing putting up tents. Really, for real, it was frantic attaching of guy lines to bikes and Manzanita in the wet. This proved to be such an undisguised bitch for me, as I dragged my tent right into a slight dip in order to anchor it.



You can guess how that went.





So, yes, I did get soaked but the bright side is that it was only on the bottom of my bag and so just that and the seat of my pants/underwear were truly sopping. And, plus, I had managed to leave my sleeping pad right on the floor at home so I saved weight and effort and got to use my jacket and empty pack for "padding"!



Literally. Right in the trail.


Orange.



Mr Y. Mr Highanddry. Mr 7lbthickashellsleepingpad. Mr. We'recampinghere.

We had been gonna ride out here:

and camp. So after parting ways with Mr. Allthosethingswhohadtogettowork, Mr S and I completed that portion of the schedule.


8:30 AM.




These are the trips that make everything worthwhile. I use them to refine gear selection, to really drive home what it is important to not forget, and to study (at length and in depth) how a solid 6 hours of torrential rain will affect my drive train. On this last, I can definitively say: it's not a good idea to rinse your chain overnight in driving rain and then to further ride it around sandy trails. Who knew? Also, a bottle of lube is a fine and potentially very necessary addition to your kit when going out for the team. Finally, a chain tool is a tool which cannot be improvised. Pack it. Every time. Dummy.


Nice girls don't wear cha cha heels. I noticed the clicking and chalked it up to a bone dry chain. At the bottom of that sweet singletrack I looked closely and saw a link coming apart. I decided to post up at the intersection and make some more coffee and see if anyone showed who was not a fool and who did have a chain tool. While waiting, I used the pocket knife/wrench combo to punch the pin back in place. This worked, but was never going to hold.

The 1st guy who blew through the turn without even glancing my way (yep. Standing there waving, next to a bike minus it's rear wheel and all.) was a road guy I recognized. This behavior seems in keeping with what I have seen from him in the past. He had headphones on, and did not hear me hollering until I upped the volume significantly. No chain tool. Then his buddy rolled up, also wearing headphones, and also without a chain tool. The guy in third was devoid as well.

The next crew to come by was some guys in Yellow Jackets of Authority; one of whom had a bar bag full of empty candy wrappers, one guy had his helmet at a jaunty angle, but the 3rd had a chain tool! He swung off his mighty hybrid, lowered the kickstand with a firm snap, and came to my rescue. Sweet, sweet chain tool.

Done. More riding up and up and then back and across. I thought about taking the road back in and babying the chain, but the trails were just too inviting. Ran into Old T___, and rolled around with him, back through CSide(!), got some lube from Joselyn's (what a difference) and then back to part ways at Huckleberry. What a glorious day.

Little trips like this are The Way. To be prepared for larger adventures when they come calling. To get some little adventures in your day to day.


Not on Christmas. Not on Christmas.

all ____s indicate

To whom it may concern,

Sir or Madam, I think it fair to say that indicating a "link" through the use of differently colored text than the main body of a "post" is common practice in this time of interwebs. Is this not true?

In keeping with the commonality of such practices, is it unreasonable to- if not expect, then certainly at minimum- anticipate a modicum of interaction vis a vis the usage of such links?
Occasionally?
When they are germane?
And, further, is it truly too much to anticipate a real and unfaltering Love of the Bicycle (and, almost necessarily, also the trappings/rituals/history of the Bicycle) would engender the passive reader to scour, to digest, and to respond?

I think not.

I will now entertain your responses to the Question. To wit: how does this affect you?

Thank you,
The Management.


To make a point of declaring friendship is to cheapen it. For men’s emotions are very rarely put into words successfully.

— Hunter S. Thompson