repair at will

Friday was Conference Day- no school.


Time for some Brown Lunch!

The trusty Esbit.



Toasting almonds in the woods.


Damp twigs and spanish moss. You know how we do.


L and J wait for the Brown Lunch: lentil soup, chard, toasted almonds. Tabasco and crackers.



The trusty Esbit transforms. Tall cylinders are not the best cooking vessels. But it was time for coffee. I need a Kelly Kettle so bad.

And perhaps another coffee cup.


Fancy town and country style.


J took off early. Several times. We drank coffee, then headed for the swings and their attendant lollipop stash.






So yes. Idyllic.

J had brought me his bike before L got home and said it wasn't working. The BB was luhoose. Loose enough to have lost a bearing as he (and his siblings who know better...) had ridden it relentlessly and warped the cages. L was due home in 20 minutes and we had that window. I decided to replace the missing 1/4" bearing with an acorn nut of nearly the same size. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, it's an ashtabula crank on a 16lb 3rd hand kid bike. Anyways, it worked!

You know, well enough.

I'll replace the bearings soon. I know what you're thinking...but really I will. On account of J's BB seized completely coming up the road on the way back from the old Boy Scout Camp:



I'm going to freak out.

____________ is over rated

You know it's true.



Terry Hall is NOT overrated. I was looking at Specials videos (on account of how Good they are) when this gem caught my ear. Where was I in 1997? Living in Telluride, working seasonally at bike shops there and in Moab and blowing it apparently, because this release slid in completely under my radar.



Today was my weekend. I spent it wandering around via cross bike.




Reunited.

I am a chronic loser of left hand gloves. I have 2 right hands of the same model glove. Yesterday I found one of my lost gloves on a post top coming down South Boundary. That's not trick lighting you see there; that's sun bleaching.


Sneaky dirt connector out the ridge, then 68 to South Boundary. At the top, I strained my brain considering the funnest way to get to the 3 Bitches. That's an area of Fort Ord I no longer ride. Last time was last winter, and probably at least a year before that, so the connectors aren't fresh in me mind.

I decided going down 50 and back up 49 to the altar and down, then up Ewok would be funnest. I crashed good on 50, even though it was still excellently tacky. I won't point fingers. I got mixed up at the bottom of the altar/49 and had to back track to remember to cross the dam to find Ewok. It is still a great trail. I was stymied on 3 Sisters Road (we always called it the 3 Bitches, but it is now signed offically as 3 Sisters Road) looking for Velocache.


Are 49 and 50 in perfect shape right now? Yes!


50ish miles.

SSWC09. down and dirty in Colorado, part the first

So much.

Things that were planned did not come to fruition, things that were not planned came off without a hitch. Someone from New Mexico told me I should get it together and blog from the road as he was awaiting updates. I can't begin to imagine the consequences of that. Uh, no. Thank you.

To kick this all off, I drove hard for Baker, CA where I slept in the race van. The next afternoon, after driving so much I stopped at the Fremont State Park for a quick leg stretcher.





It was Moab, UT the next night, for the hospitality of friends. The morning came early, and saw me on the road again. I had to get to Durango and drop off the race van as a shuttle vehicle. Along the way, I attempted to rouse the Telluride posse, and set up camp on Lizard Head Pass. It had been raining for several days at that point, so I pitched my tent in the rain shadow of a big old spruce. This ended up to be the site of a wood rat warren too. I made it to the Durango

home base of S___ and ___ the Enigma and hitch hiked back.











The only tricky spot was Dolores, where I spent an easy 1hr and 45min waiting. I showed up in Rico, walked a block off Main and met my old friend Walter "G__" G_______.
We washed up at the "Toxic Hot Spring", where G__ schooled me on the etiquette. Apparently you are supposed to wait at least 15min after showing up to allow anyone already there to finish their session. We waited, and then headed in. We'd been there a short while- just long enough for me to fully disrobe- when a crew of women came down the trail and asked how long we would be. I noticed they hadn't given us the nice 15min buffer, and made some crack to that effect, but they were welcome to join us. G___ was mortified by my boorishness and was extra polite. They asked then if we were from Rico. I gathered if we had been, it would have been "cool". I may or may not have made further remarks about staying all night and partying without clothes. I for certain received some more advice on etiquette after that.







The much planned Telluride-Durango ride did not come off. It was snowy on Sheep Mtn. when we awoke on Lizard Head Pass. I say "awoke", but with the GD wood rats foraging beneath my tent floor and communicating via squeaks and chewing holes in my saddlebag! and the massive thunderstorm 3feet above my tent, I did not sleep so much. The weather was threatening. In conjunction with said weather, I was blamed for it and informed that my"life is an exercise in futility. [I am] a miserable wretch, and everything [I] do is futile. This was the greatest summer for mountain biking in Telluride in the history of mountain biking until [I] came and ruined it with the rain" which was no accident, and Cavey P___ had "grievances" he wanted addressed. He, uh, did not show up for the 9am start. Yes, we waited, just in case.

At 9:01am we piled in the car and drove back to the "Toxic Hot Springs" for a soak,

and then Cortez to ride Phil's World which is fun, but tame. T___ expressed it well when he said purpose built trails feel easy and repetitive. It was a lot of swooping, but it feels like a dumbed down version of 18Road in Fruita, which already seems mild enough.


We pulled up at Trimble Hot Springs to pick up the race van, and S___ had been true to his word and filled a bus tub with a 30pack on ice. We stayed and soaked for a while. I drained the bus tub and placed it on the passenger side floor of the race van. It was filled with beers- both full and empty. On the way to my hostbody, I was pulled over for a non-operational headlight.
Yes.
I saw him flip on his lights and pull a u-turn and I (frantic only from the shoulder down cuz you know they watch you to see what you do...) threw whatever was at hand onto the tub. Maybe a magazine and a hat. I held my papers out the window with both hands, and filled as much of the window frame as I could with my self. He never even noticed.

stand in for your life

illustration by Tom Schamp


I have taken the front mudflap off my townie. It will never again darken my ride. It was fine on the road, but. Any time the tyre got knobbly because the going got gravelly, the mudflap wedged itself between the fender and the front tire. This was not threatening since the flap (made by my daughter) was soft leather with a heart branded on it, not hard rubber or plastic. The wedging did not result in crashes (though others have crashed due to mudflap wedgies), just having to stop and unwedge.

So. I do not recommendo the front mudflap for anything but the streetest of bikes.

In other unsatisfactory bicycle equipment news: my cross bike is proving to be a bitch to get together. I had planned on using parts I already own for the build. To this end, 2 bikes have donated parts. I stripped the threads on the non-drive square taper XTR crank (from the fixed wheel Crosscheck). I do not have the right length BB. 3 cross bikes are partially assembled and unrideable in my bike pile at this moment.

The new frame is pretty though.