visit the Genuine

Or, you know, you could just move on in. It is Tour day France time on planet Earth, and that means the "fans" come out of the woodwork, from under their rocks, and in from the cold. Standing in the bike shop becomes even more the front row seat in the circus of weird obsessions.

I used to really get invested in the Tour, but now I don't even know who's riding. Radio controlled cyborg racing is not interesting to me. Regardless, for the next several weeks it will be a hot topic. People who don't ride will come in and yak it up about their favorite show, and want to get into detailed conversations regarding the merits of ever more complicated shiny bits that they want to consume...but not ride on.

I will sell anybody any number of whatever they want, it's their free choice. I will not, however, pretend to be enthused about...the collectibles. For example, a wood laminate road bike using electronic components that have to be connected to the internet for adjustment (NOT KIDDING). For the sake of what? bragging rights? Who's got the stupidest expensive bauble? I understand there is no inherent Right or Wrong in these toys with which we play. They are just stuff. Some of these toys are tools better suited to make Happiness than others, but I suppose even in that there are differences in kind. Do you enjoy tinkering with stuff that is so finicky/battery dependent/fragile, or do you want to be outside pedalling? You can be sure of which I'd rather do.

There are a lot of folks who just want to have a "nice" bike, as opposed go on a nice ride. People who poopoo the idea of climbing up that one hill because it would be the long commute (when it might add 20 minutes max, if you were sloooooow, but would add 20 times the fun if you were to consider it against the fucking bike path strewn with dogs on leashes, children on leashes, and aerobic joggers on headphones, etc). People who want to debate the merits of tire X vs tyre Y, when they aren't going to ride either of them, just put them on the bike on their wall. People who want yet another bike they won't ride. Collectors, having things. Yuck and gross.

The Tour brings all of these enthusiastic clowns into the tent.



Le sigh. Cycling is not a show on TV (or some hack website) and it is not something you have, it is something you do. Get out and do it. If you must be a collector, collect as many kick ass moments as you can. Collect skids, collect perfectly weighted turns, collect suffering.

there was a man who knew how to hit bottom!

Of interest: where there's smoke there's fire, and the valley is full up from this ride cancelling Big Sur Fire. What a kick in the teeth. Ride? Modified/maybe cancelled.

And as far as lots of smoke and mirrors- here is the Sinyard "apology" if you are into such things. I will comment this far: bullshit. If this were a sincere mistake, then it were required for the big red S to retroactively unfuck the other little people they've legalistically ramrodded. Closest to my heart being Revelate Designs, nee Epic Bags, one dude in Alaska making bags in his garage who (as far as I can tell) started the frame-bag phenomenon. And it is a phenomenon. And if Sinyard actually cared, he'd cease and desist the corporate Grinchyness. Stink, Stank, Stunk.


And, if you have the issues with the hip:

He's using a lacrosse ball, and I'd recommend (starting, anyways) using a tennis ball as it is softer and easier on your tender beginner self. You can roll over onto the affected side and weight the ball further around to the front into your Tensor Fasciae Latae muscle also. Play with it, noticing the tender spots and focus on them. It gets easier and less painful with repetition. Get a foam roller and roll that IT band and Vastus Lateralis. Or else.

Evil brushes it's teeth

If you are the guy who stops the group so he can adjust his suspension, you lack a fundamental awareness of (cycling) etiquette.  Yes, if you haven't taken care to adjust your Xs, your Ys or your Zs before you start (one more reason to ride to the ride, as if you needed it) then the proper course is to wait until the first naturally occurring break and do it then.

None of your bros- no matter how "down"- want to wait for your pissing, your seat height adjustment, your lens changing, or your one last whatever. So, if you left your key/shoes/helmet at the shop and don't have a means to get in and get it yourself, you're fucked. If you invite yourself along (and if folks tolerate it), expect to be responsible for your own ride. That means having your own pump, patch kit, spare tube, tools, water, food, jacket, beer, whiskey, weed, and any other damn thing you might want or need. If you invite yourself and you require someone else to ride from the meet-up back to the shop and open it  so you can get any of these items, you are an asshole. And finally, if that is the case and you invited the new Fucking New Guy (who happens to be a girl) that none of us have ever met, whose riding level none of us know, who doesn't have a bike of her own, and requires that we ride a further couple miles out of the way to the other shop to get her a rental? You need a punch in the fucking head.

That is some True Facts right there. Another true fact is that so and so pulled some of those things on the last group go-round. I don't mind being the bad guy, so I threw his ass off the ride.

Full Invite Only Moon tonight, fools.

a man that won't lie ain't got nothing to say

  Waking up in the woods suits me.

 If I can hassle my children in the bargain, why then it's a bargain well struck.

No electronics in the woods...makes them appreciate each others' company and America. Also, hopefully, the extensive infrastructure that is our base camp...

We spent the better part of the day hauling ourselves and various masks, snorkels, and floaties up the river to the Narrows. L___ had never been. The kids have been up several times, though N___ had never been up past the waterfall. This day the water level (low...August looking levels) was such that we could get up it just fine. We spent some time up there, and did several slide runs. The ladies claimed they smelled "weed", and sure enough. While working our way down the ropes on the side of the falls, who should we see lurking in the pool beneath but R_man and his nameless partner. We continued past them to a spot more conducive to a lazy snorkel and some mildly entertaining cliff jumping.

By the time we returned to camp, it was time to snorkel more enthusiastically and rope swang and:

 Some of us has got to. Or else it won't get done.

The bugs seemed mild to most of us, though I will confess to realizing otherwise once back at home and the full itching set in.

 D_____ does not suffer bugs gladly in any circumstance.

Nearing the end of the day, while the rest of the group was down at the water's edge just doing things, a couple came walking down the path above camp. The gal said that she liked the spot, then they returned from whence they'd come. Only to return a few minutes later aboard loaded bicycles. I made several snap (and, I feel, astute) judgements regarding their style and capability which I will keep to myself. I will say they looked confused. I called out that the way forward would not suit bikes, but that there were several campsites on the other side of the horse bridge that were very nice. The gal misunderstood me to mean the beach below the bridge (what is it with people and the camping in rotten spots?), so I corrected her with the actual location of actually viable spots to camp. She then piped up with the opinion that they would "just camp right here"; indicating the meadow adjacent to our ground.

I was very surprised.

Some thoughts occurred to me. To wit: why would one come all the way out to the back country (such as it is) and decide that you would camp right next to other people? And, further, expect that they would be stoked with your decision to intrude on their solitude   be "neighborly". Finally, what the hell?!? She was pointing at a rolling and quite sloped meadow; a very poor choice of camp site on it's own merit.

I said, "That would be a bummer for everyone." because, simple is best really.

Dude (now speaking) says, "Why is that?"

I said, "Because we are gonna get hella drunk and shoot off fireworks."

Dude, "Oh...well, thanks for letting us know." And he moves to turn around.  Meanwhile, lathered up gal begins to whine, "Uh! Are we really going to go back?" as they leave.



What?

see if you Qualify

 J and meself rolled around the Ord. Fall is playing peekaboo over here, and today it was both eyes open/Indian Summer and eyes covered/Early Fall by turns. The shoulderest of seasons.

We stopped to refuel the Shrine. J felt it was lacking some Tootsie Pops and some Everlasting GobStoppers. I felt it was lacking some Hamms.

We stopped at the New Stairs and hung around.

J said there were "sure lots of those 'for your safety' signs". There are. I enjoy the wording. Nothing like good old Fear for some controlling the public. I myself am fearful of handicapped people wearing feathers.

This is one of the sleds I mentioned. I misspoke. They are built of 4x4s and 2x6s. That's lots of spendy lumber to close off dirt roads and trails we've all been riding without mishap for 12 years. Where has my Safety been all that time?

you better axe somebody

How well does a knuckle-head roll? Is a question as old as.



"About like you'd expect" is the answer.

Carmel Bob and that crowd has put up this year's flyer, and it looks to already be going sideways. Yaz, yaz. Sleaze Otter time again, mateys. Time to tap the bottle and twist the cap (heyyohickorydickorydockI'mfromtheCarmelblock) whilst you turn the pedals and whip that ass! So. Calling all pirates, inmates, home boyz, fly grrrlz, hoboes, hobettes, hombres, LOLOS, cholos, sidewinders, snake-oil-salesfolk, upstanding model citizens, decent types, low-lifes, double dealers, underhanded sinisterarians, spinsters, ministers, those who are ill equipped, your mom, all my friends, and most of all, YOU...get where the gettin is good and show up for the fun to start.

The flyer has the info. Looks like Fisherman's Wharf at 7pm this coming Saturday. If this is anything like years past, it'll be a lot of hilarity and fun. What with my shoulder and old-man-ass-syndrome, I'm taking it easy this year and that means there's a chance you could win it. I must say, I'm enjoying the no-nonsense slap in the face to all the losers who "choose" not to attend. Because, yes, they are pussies and don't know how to use a bike as a fun, only as a train/compete.



Serious serious matter.