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...

betrayed by your accent and manners

Street bikes in the dirt are a Good Time.

I had some things to say, but I forgot what they were. I have been meaning to say THANK YOU to whoever(s) did the extensive Poison Oak clearing on those several trails. It doesn't take much to knock that stuff back, as it's really fragile at the joints and you can use a switch no bigger than your finger. What it does take is the willingness, and that's both uncommon and much appreciated. So, THANKS, mystery trail steward!!!

There remain several logs along various sections, and of course, (always) more Poison Oak everywhere. Who wants to get loaded and do unpaid manual labor in the woods?


I'm feeling pretty these days. I've gotten bored with posting what feels like the same old ride a trail/drink a beer account- never boring doing it, just writing what feels like the same story- which means this spot is quiet. I mentioned before that I am posting some things at the Drunk Cyclist page, so if you are inclined check that out. Also, instagram has taken over documenting radness.

We just did a prep tour for the upcoming Condor (which kicks off Monday), and it was super fun. I had an issue with what I thought was a slow leak. I kept losing pressure, but try as I did (several times) I could not find a pinhole. Well, I had my suspicions, and when I got home I removed the tyre.



Yes, I retired that.

The issue was that both sidewalls were pulling away from the bead! The tyre wasn't losing air, it was expanding with the tear. Increasing volume equals decreasing pressure...



And when it drop, you got to feel how much you was doing wrong. I reckon that is a opportunity to realize how to do Right.

Don't take things so seriously. It's just riding bikes.

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.

an old school man-of-the-world

Close your eyes and dream you up a camp-out.



See the lights of town dwindling and get all tingly...





What with the daughter all grownish and driving, it's pretty easy to arrange a pick up these days. That'll extend your range. I'm not above receiving a helping handout. So, it was ride out the valley and turn right. All by meself, and just after dark I slithered through the gates, paid no fees, and rolled on through that dark, around the corner to dirt, and on up the hill. Climbing and breathing for a little more than an hour gets you to the camp spot. It's just a little up the hill from the spring, flat and clear.



You'd think I'd have some skills at this by now, but nope. It's always something*. Setting up in the dark, sure- 1/2 in the bag (flask of Michter's rye, though that is subject to change)- you might make some rookie moves with your tarpage. You might. So, sure, the rain (40%) came up and sat. What with the coastal range holding it up from progressing inland, it sat for several hours. I dozed fitfully as a result. All night with an ear to the storm, ready for quick action should it be required. Sunrise brought a settling in the weather, and I slept in because I could. Camping by your lonesome is nice that way. Nobody's business but your own.




So that there is the set-up sans tarp. You can see how the bike is the center support. The front wheel is propped up with rocks and the guy-line (absent in the photo) to further support the tarp. It is a real clever system, as it requires no poles or trees and keeps the bike out of the weather too! There is plenty of room under there. Another person, were there one in this rider-forsaken locale who enjoys this type of hott action, could easily fit. Even 2 more people. The Crazy Creek tarp is a real fine piece of kit, and your local bike shop can get you one.




The next day saw me sweating my way along, down, through, across and up to finish with a ripping down...to the sunset over the Pacific.








 Hasn't gotten old yet.



When I reached the bottom, I set up my waiting room on the shoulder. My daughter wasn't due for a couple hours, so I reckoned I'd catch up on sleep. The party lights (eno, and your local bike shop can get them...) are to keep people from driving over me.



This is one way to do it.




*Hey R__k, I learned the taut line! Now it's all gonna be cake.

tell-tale evidence of criminal activity

Get on your bicycle, whatever type it is, and pedal it away from your home. Ride it along (some streets most likely) to get where you need to be at. No cars need be involved.




To me, I will take the dirtiest way every time when I have the time. It's just much easier on your constitution.


Ride choice goes in cycles, as things will. It is easy to ride the same old route. That's where I been lately. Even if I decide ahead of time to do Y, by the time I realize I'm committed, I've let my unconscious make my turns for me and I am riding X again. It's not a complaint- that route is so ingrained because it's a good one.

On the other hand, Variety is spicy and I like that.

to the bitter end

Riding of one type and another. I hadn't been on my street bike for months? yes, it's true. I forgot to mention here (on account of I mentioned it at my other unpaid innernet bicycle stuff writing gig) the full moon ride down to Esalen. It was aboard the street bike, and it was almost all for which you could you ask- my shitty phone camera couldn't capture the incredible imagery of the shadow arches cast by Bixby Bridge, etc. and also sadly, C____ opted out of Old Coast as 23s were deemed unappealing on dirt. Me? I'm running some 37mm Panaracer Paselas (with the gumwall, naturally) on account of that tyre is unaccountably kick-ass on a variety of surfaces.

So you ride one bike for a period, forsaking all others, and you forget the wonderful differences that are to be savored. Ride another bike and it all comes rushing back. And then you want to fiddle with saddle height, and ruminate over stem length ad nauseum.  Thus, the resumption of street biking. Why, just the other day I rode some road and some dirt to get to roads leading to sand. _other_ucking HERO SAND. Fort Ord is set up so nice right now! Tacky, with just enough moisture content to cradle the tyre in the could-be-crumbly off camber berm. I especially love that.



You know, but on the way there are little pockets of RADness everywhere. I try and hit them all. So much niceness, all this sneaky cut-thru and the trail behind the houses and the back ways and.



That there is a little corner of Heaven, custom made just for you. It used to be a corner of suck, but I stopped my raging torrent of personal record setting and fixed the trail. It keeps the nice nice.



This section remains, but it now remains a work-in-progress. We are chipping away at it, under cover of darkness.



And, but, so riding. Eventually,after much huffing and and rallying, I warshed up at Lookout Ridge. Sorry about your hematoma. It's a nice spot for a beer from the stash under the oaks and a view.




From there, it's the rippingest quickness. 2 wheel drift into the tacky (!) berms and push that edge, homie. Push it real good. Down, and down, and down to the swoopy ups. Across, upy downy, through to the New Stairs.



It should come as no surprise that I consider the spot to be MINE. (I made it, after all.)  But, as was recently pointed out to me by my Nighttime Ride Adviser, you put something out in the public domain...and it becomes everybody's. It's a bitter pill.

Because then there is shit like this here:




Let that soak in for a moment. It is the note from the last time the spot was trashed. It lay upon several unopened canned beers, an empty/capped jar (for snacks, to keep the wood rats out), and a couple crushed empties, all tucked in the bole of the tree and covered by a 9"x9" piece of wood. Some member of the public has found "my" spot and this note, and has added to it a demand for weed.

Speechless at the presumption. Please discuss.

yowl

Yo owls?

You prolly already knew Sunday is the full Wolf Moon and all. But what you didn't already know is that a bunch of yahoos are riding out under it, back and forth on streets from Carmel across the Monterey Peninsula* and trails adjacent to same. So now you know that, too.


Now is your local chance to stop blowing it.


You heard?  Good Luck and pack something warm in which to stand around the cold woods whilst dranking, etc.

Yes, this one again. It's the motherfawking WOLF moon...


*looking to roll forth from the graveyard no later than 7pm.