primeval jungle plantings

Same, same, different. Did some work (turning down custom warshers, finishing dropout clamp areas, reaming, tapping, reaming, tapping, tapping, tapping) this week learning to use the mill and the lathe in Santa Cruz (or is that Capitola right there? I get all your little important divisions mixed up). That's right, you heard right, I am learning me some small steps towards using machines that make the bicycles. Some time this winter I expect to step up to the torch and wreck a bunch of stuff.



Mr. Myagi (my personal Pat Morita) refuses to do mystic ish like sending me to fetch a sprig of poison oak from Santa Rosalia, but he is all to happy to assign the wax on wax off work that is slowly and secretly turning me into your worst nightmare: me in the middle of your little group ride on a matchine of my own devising. You know the second one I make will be a mixte. Don't kid yourself.

All's I can say is: fuck yeah. Maybe it's cuz I'm such a noob at this, but perhaps it's just cuz it is so freaking cool to make bike. Whatevah. I'm well stoked.

And in the meantime, I try to hawk one. I try to hawk one, in the meantime. Taking a break in the middle of your day to go and ride the sweet singletrack is well advised; particularly when staring down the barrel of a big rain. I will say that it is getting pret-ty mucky under the redwoods. I hadda do the right thing and get off that one trail and head back to the dryish fireroad for the up. I also had to give in to the Dark Side and ride down that serpentine and most perfectly pitched singletrack on the down.

Perhaps it is time to consider Fort Ord, and it's excellent drainage characteristics. Home trails are coming into season right now. And on that note, the Full Wolf Moon is coming at you on a fast lope. Saturday (hear the sound of obligation dogs calling, you have to go if it's a weekend night) the 30th. Lift your leg and mark your calendar.




And, plus apropos of the type of riding one will do under the Full Moon (i.e. super tanked) I have had a little wake up call of my very own. I was riding that one local loop last week when I stopped at the stopping place and took off my helmet and had a beer and made a few calls and such. I then picked up my helmet from it's hanging spot on the log and put it on. It was very cold and wet, like your helmet gets when it's all sweated up and you foolishly take it off and allow the sweat-filled pads to lose body heat. Yuck. I turned to get on my bike. And there on the handlebars was the helmet I had been wearing on that ride. I had left the log helmet on the log days before, and had enough to drink on my mind that I didn't notice I rode off helmetless. Not as crazy as it might be, as I ride helmetless often enough (suck on that, safety advocates) that the sensation is not unfamiliar, but not as copacetic as it might be either. Time to reign meself in some.

Words to live by, bicthes. I hope you are well.

knows a guy

Still feeling spectacular. I don't expect this will last. Took a little SS trip up the fireroad and down the singletrack. That was real fun.


The rain is coming and that is hard to ride in for me. If you need me, I'll be making riding while the sun shines.

mysterious stranger at your door

I'm talking about feeling so Good it's Bad. I'm talking about riding a bike so zippy and so responsive, it's got a little name inscribed on it. Says _______ ______. Feel so good I have to holler for help!




tears off shirt and runs around the room looking for chests to full-body high five.



And that's just my commute. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

about that

Damn, it feels good to be a gangster. Bushwick must have ridden a singlespeed. I don't know what this new Good Feeling thing is all about, or from whence it has come, but (well OK, mid 60s and sunny helps yes) I'll take it!

Rode singlespeed yesterday in Santa Cruz on that one trail- the one that is so awesome up and down- for some perfectly tacked and bermed narrow ass singletrack. Traction so good you could stand up over the front end and tug on the bars with your whole worth just to keep upright for one more revolution, and again, repeat...I could feel pedal contact from my foot to my hip and up and out to my hand...unh!

Then there was the swoopy downhill. That was fun too.



Damn, it feels good to ride a bike.

Panache!

This Gustav Klimt image has been lifted from Golden Age Comic Book Stories, and is one of several stunning Klimt works he has on display today. The winter light is well captured.




The problem with the Big Dummy? Well, a problem was the cones were hella loose on the rear hub, which is why the tracking felt off. Another problem was the rear brake cable was binding. Binding. Notchy binding. Perhaps from the best camping trip ever? So there was alot of lubing today. Feets and feets of cable on that bike. And, plus the caliper (as I said) has always been in danger of getting impinged upon by a load. Sometimes it happened, and then I'd have to grumpily shift the load. Grumpily shift.


You lik how I said "happened"? Hopefully it won't ever be a issue again. This required my most honed mechanical skills: bending and forcing. I got to use the hammer and the vice.

Since this fine cargo bike was all newish and tuned, I took it out again to pick up the boy. He was enthusiastic.

Which I love. We headed straight for the mid-valley Safeway a.k.a. "the lollipop store" for a bag of Tootsie Pops to take to the woods. Secret Boys back at it. The steep hike up that hill pushing the Big Dummy whilst slip-sliding on the pine duff was exhausting. J took it in stride. I asked him to walk in front of me so I didn't crush him when I slipped and fell over backwards. He graciously obliged.

We hit the spot with the good sitting log for a sucker break and there were 2 Tecates and a Hansen's soda stashed there! Which was great, because I'd forgotten about them so they were an unlooked for bonus.


We continued our bike pushing walk.

Fancy winter light.


I was glad to reach the ridge.



We rolled up and down (a fair amount of up it felt, too) until we reached the snaky singletracks. We rallied them but good. I say it lots, but only cuz it's true: the Big Dummy handles much better with a load.

slow descent into madness

Listen to this:



and don't let that Seasonal Affect Disorder bite you in the ass: "The countenance of one man brighteneth another." La la la lala lalala, ride your bike, maing. That'll brighteneth your countenance. Especially if you keep your ish lubed.


The Kampe Monkey is held together with tics and creaks at this time. I fully expect the BB to explode any ride now. I am in desperate need of new drivetrains. (New drivetrains for all my bikes!) I gotta get it together and put some pieces back together. I wanted so badly to ride the fixed Crosscheck, but that's been disassembled since just prior to SSWC2009. Ditto the SC Blur, which I wanted to ride for the New Year's Blue Moon. What the hell?

Whatever. I rode my bicycle and it was as Good as Good can be. (Could have been better with a new drivetrain, just sayin')


Reload on the one side. I heard something large in the bushes and cut the stop short to haul ass down the hill.

Through Monterey briefly, and then back up the ridge and over for some more dirt. Chased a roadie who attempted (but was unable- !haha! you backwards glancing utha ucka) to drop me, only to slingshot off his draft through the apex of the curve and into the dip leading onto doubletrack. Yessssss, it feels good to apply maximum effort and just feel that jump. Short lived, ok sure- but that feeling. I love that. It feels good to go fast.


Brief stop in the other woods to resupply there.





So my Program of Excellence (wherein I kick ass at every opportunity by, like, doing the dishes or mopping the floor, or doing the laundry, etc) was/is on. To this end, I got home and swept and mopped and did laundry...and then swapped bikes for the Big Dummy to go and fetch J. We'd been on (high tens all around) for a trailer bike ride home yesterday only I cannot find the hitch. My Program of Excellence should include cleaning my bench area. He was all fired up to ride and then disappointed to drive, so I thought I'd surprise him today. I rode the 9 miles out the valley and arrived at 4pm. Turns out L had picked him up for his new basketball league at 2:30pm.
Oops.
The Big Dummy feels like crap. The rear brake is binding someplace along it's (literally) 6 foot cable/housing span. I keep remembering that it needs some kind of kiddie derailleur protector mounted over the caliper, too. The load presses in and effs up the caliper action. I remember this when on the bike, but promptly forget to address it when at home. {Note to self.} Also, the frame feels off in it's tracking. I hope it's just that I am unused to it. I tried hard for it to be fun in spite of mishaps, and it kind of was.

Bikes. And bike riding.


Oh, hey! Do I have your size Small charcoal Chrome knickers? Hows about your long sleeve woolen Hunter Cycles jersey? Perhaps a part (wtf?) of your clip-on fender? Cuz none of that is mine.



Finally: Holy ________! I am so blown away by Lyrics Born!!!! People who know: why did you let me sleep?! People who don't know: please turn this up



now you know.

get this party started

Right?



2010 started for me when I was lost in a boozy haze in the dark on a bike ride with "friends". No better way if you ax me. That damn trail eludes me even cold sober in the day light, so it was no surprise to see that little flicker of the group's lights any number of ridges away and below. Nothing for it but to stay high and keep keepin on. It did cross my mind that I might be spending the 1st night of 2010 lost, alone and cold. Would not have surprised me at all, at all. Might have been fitting, but I'll take this happy reunion and subsequent self-torture/hour-plus-climb as a symbol of all the goodness coming my way this fine year.

Woo hoo! Good wishes for all my friends!