dropping science...

it's not real Italian

L is "training" for her friend Chris' Birfday Ride. It is going on in Napa next week. I heard 50 miles bandied about, and told L she needed to get her ash in shape more than worrying about anything else. You know how that goes; spend some time off the bike and it is a guaranteed sore butt.

I've been giving her a hard time for finding a reason to ride because of her friend, but not riding with me. I understand- a Birfday Ride is a celebration! and should be respected, but.

Even so, she asked if I would like to go for a ride with them in the sunny 70 degree afternoon. Yes, I would like that. So we rolled on his & hers Surly Crosschecks. A nice 26 mile jaunt with a couple hills. The best part was the pace; it was perfect for looking around and appreciating how nice a day it has been. We wrapped around the peninsula on 17 Mile Dr. and saw a pod of grey whales blowing just past Bird Rock. Too bad I forgot the camera. I will try to get in on another of these and get some photos for the out-of-towners. This is a really beautiful area and a swell place to ride.

L is trying to decide whether she wants to ride the Surly or her fancy red Nishiki mixte.

who's that, puffing down the track?

Y'all been waiting for a while? Well, then it must be me.

Saturday night (allright!) and the Full wolf Moon did NOT disappoint. The (wildly speculative) rumor was that this is the closest we'll have been to the moon in 150 years. Someone else threw "Forever." into the pot, but that seems like a lie. Much of it seems like a lie. Regardless, the moon was huge and lit up the place real satisfactorily.

Fort Ord is getting torn apart. Eucalyptus is shorn of it's pavement and is now a 4 lane wide swath of sand. That'd be OK if it stayed that way, but it won't. Much of the good ridgeline stuff between the Stairs and the old Scout Camp is shredded and gladed and on target for overpriced housing with no water supply. Shit.

In spite of all this (and we knew it was coming), riding is still there to be had. Good twisty singletrack under the arching moonlit sky. Beers in the dark-er light. Kept it an early night, as Sunday was big plans, big plans. Rode out from town in time to see the sunset and then on into the moonlight, getting in about 11pm. 24-27 miles?

BIG Plans involving the recon for the upcoming 10th annual County Line Jamboree. A ~47 mile rattler involving HWY1 from Wadell Beach at the Northern end of Santa Cruz County, transitioning to riding "within spitting distance at all times" of the railroad tracks into Capitola/Aptos/someotherconfusingsubsectionofSantaCruz, where the strong of body and weak of mind ride the lowtide line along the beach to the Pajaro River (3 miles past the finish/party in Watsonville), which marks the boundary to the South. I have mentioned before what a rotten idea this County Line is, but this year really takes the cake. The historic course is this year's "short course", and the "regular route" is: Watsonville to Mt. Madonna, dirt Summit to Loma Prieta, cross 17 and up Bear Creek to 35. Take 35 (which has got to be one of the most windy and satisfying roads around) to 9, and drop down to 236. Climb to China Grade, and then make decisions about getting to the coast at Wadell to then ride the short course in. If this is not gobbledygook to you, you know what I'm saying.



We took off from Nisene to do this at 8:45am. Geared cross bikes. We returned around 8pm. Distance estimated from "at least a 100" all the way up to "102 and haaaard"miles total.

There was AN extended stop at the Summit Store-by which point I was so addled I could not decide what to get for snacks. I decided on a tall boy, 2 bananas and some wasabi roasted almonds. I noticed no one else was purchasing beer and this concerned me. Primarily because that meant I would probably have to share if I opened it around them. MA graciously shared her electrolyte drank mix with me, though, so fair is fair. The already haggard peloton lost 2 at Summit Store. J and M were smarter than most and opted out of the remainder.

One other stop at the intersection of 35/9, at the Mr. Mustard Hotdog stand, where we witnessed the jackass motorcycle scene and I got a sad little tofu weiner which, saggy and small as it was, was critical for my ability to remain conscious. I was stretching/hanging from a post and groaning.Then I gathered up a loogy from deep inside, something vital mixed with trail dust and grit, and spat. Mr. Mustard was concerned and asked me if I had been feeling bad all day. How to explain the deep and sustained suffering? Impossible. The closest I could come was a sad chuckle and the words'"We've been riding a long time and...this is hard." He did not understand, this is not an illness or a sudden attack- this is an abiding thing, a dark, creeping obsession that will never go away. Broken at least twice and we still look forward to the next section of swooping Goodness. Just a taste, and all the grinding climb is worth it.There were none other stops for me.

I had known there would be trouble when I awoke at 6am to swap tires, drink lots of water, and feel like I could have done with 2.5 less beers under the Full Wolf Moon. Some things have to be done, though.




I had known I was in over my head midway through the initial sustained steep of Mt. Madonna at 9:30 in the morning.By the time we began 236, I had gotten accustomed to rolling up to a group of people I recognized who then hopped on their bikes and rode away again. I understand this was a necessary thing. The pace has to be what it has to be, cuz sunset won't wait on my slow ass to stop and sit. We moved on. On roads and shadows of roads I've never seen. DAMN, it is beautiful on that long and winding ridge. Lots of varying conditions and trail surface.




When we came out of the hills, around that last corner when the golden sunset light was allofasudden a thick haze you felt as some other medium than air, we arrived at the start of the short course. On Game Day, it will be necessary to ride the actual course route, but we were all prepared to ride back in on HWY1. Which we did, as the just past full Wolf Moon rose in it's own thick golden shroud.

The thinking has been to add 3 hours to our total time to account for singlespeedage. I now believe this estimate to be inaccurate. I would add 3 hours to the total time for SS, but taking into account our easy road cruise back in, and skipping the beach as we did, and all the beers you will end up drinking en route, a 5 hour add on is realistic. You know, for my pace. That puts the total ride at something like 16 hours. What?

What?

I will also be leaving Watsonville around 5am, not this 9am bourgeois stuff. There is wise talk of flipflopping; I cannot imagine doing the route in a single singlegear. It's just too sustainedly hilly; low enough to climb will KILL you on the downs/flat, and walking more than a little up will put you in the deep dark by the finish. So bring what you think you will need to climb Mt Madonna (39x27 hurt), and get through the beach flats. If you are thinking of attempting this on your little baby-housecat 26" SS, just stop right now. You will hate yourself. Bring lots of water, there is only Summit Store to refill. Bring lots of food, there is only Summit Store to refuel, as I suspect Mr. Mustard is fickle. The ride is scheduled Feb. 7th, and I'll post a flyer when I get one. I got a lot of training to do between now and then...

3 things.
1) If you don't ride the County Line, you are smart. But you will miss a very Good Time.
2) If you ride the County Line, and do the "short course", you are (a pussy) smart. But you will miss a very Good Time.
3) I am categorically stating that I will arrive at the finish proudly aboard my singlespeed.

Smoke that shuttlecock.

music that are good

Big Daddy Kane drops the mic! and still makes shit look good.





Elvis Costello gets maudlin like we lik.





Thin Lizzy...uh,wow.





Waylon gets some sweet, sweet sweet Mental Revenge.






Lip up, Fatty. Baaaad manners.





Leslie Gore tells you how it will be.


You should quit now. You should quit. You should, you should quit. You should. I should know...



I own a mansion, and a yacht, bicthes.

don't fool yerself

"Some of you might not agree
'Cause you probably likes a lot of misery
But think a while and you will see...
Broken hearts are for assholes." Frank Zappa


Rode a little ride in Santa Cruz yestidy. Love that Redwood trail action! New (to me) sections of trail traveled with good friends, and a secret (to me) airline-bottles-of-hooch-location revealed. Love those outdoor bars!

Not much better than a bike ride to put things right.

Speaking of which: get on your bike tomorrow night wherever your neck of the woods may be, cuz the FULL WOLF MOON WILL BE OUT. Don't be, uh, crazy- GO!

put this in your piehole

It has been stuck in my head for days now.



You're welcome.

Summer before last, we had the Badminton net setup all summer long. It ruled- what a ridiculously fun game. I was beating my children at it mercilessly, and talking lots of trash. I told D to put one particularly amazing shot in his pipe and smoke it. He enjoyed the game in general, and thought that shuttlecock is a very funny sounding word. He later aced me, and told me to (in his piping falsetto) :"Smoke that shuttlecock!"

even I adore you

"Then came also the ghost of Theban Teiresias, with his golden sceptre in his hand. He knew me and said, 'Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, why, poor man, have you left the light of day and come down to visit the dead in this sad place? Stand back from the trench and withdraw your sword that I may drink of the blood and answer your questions truly.'

"So I drew back, and sheathed my sword, whereon when he had drank of the blood he began with his prophecy.

"You want to know,' said he, 'about your return home, but heaven will make this hard for you..." The Odyssey, Homer.

Looking for some help from the spirits, looking for work. Pounding the trails to the streets to hand in resumes...Massage seems to be discretionary spending these days.

Still, the sun is shining, the weather is sweet.