*integration NOT segregation

Full Harvest Moon was a definite winner. Clear and promising as it started out, cloud cover came in strong. It must have been all that it's cracked up to be to give as much light as it did through those clouds. We just had more time to stand around drinking beers while waiting for holes. Blessed moonlight riding. Lots of giggling as unexpected sand pits grab your front wheel and wrench it sideways or pitch you into a new angled drift. Sit back, relax and let the front end ride because the trail is what it is and you can't judge, only ride. Thank you Sir, may I have another?

Here is a picture of the fancyish King Cage gadget I mentioned. A top cap bottle mount...




You probably can't tell, but REV DICK is stamped on there. I started with the E, because that would be center and a good starting point, but I stamped it backwards and had to correct it. Which only makes it perfect. I was a little in the bag at the time.


I spent some of today realigning the Kampe Monkey back into it's camping style. Taking the suspension off. Hanging derailleurs, swapping the On One Midge (not a fan, they are too effing narrow on top) bars out for the 48cm(!) Nitto Noodles (we especially love them). Etc.


I think a little overnight down to Prewitt via Indians is in order this week. Wed-Thurs. Who's with me?

gimme that old time religion

This is in rotation today.





image from here

Preferably one with some dolls and pins and wax&blood effigies. Definitely one wherein we ride the bicycles and there is Suffering.

I drove down to an undisclosed location in Big Sur to meet J__ and P______ for a singlespeed jaunt up the coastal range.





Pave up up up , and dirt down.



P______ ended up no showing as he was sick, so it was down to 2. J__ observed that the light is now Autumn Light, and she is right. There was a nice coolness all day, though the bugs were still after some time in your orifices.


We stopped for a short hike to check on the albino Redwood. We weren't sure what damage the fire last year had done. Yay! The albino is still there. It is shrubby now (like it's siblings) but seems well. The color is much more yellow now as opposed to the pale milk it was before.




The fire has changed the landscape quite a bit. Sheer creek walls now are blown out and full; the beds are wider and flat, the result of many BIG downed logs making retaining walls of sorts. Look at the Redwoods in the above picture; it was crazy to see how furry the new growth is. On some trees, the fur extended out along the horizontal branches as well. All in all, I like the new landscape. Especially next Spring, when it really starts to recover.





Topped out over-looking the Pacific. Rode every bit of the up, which was nice. Note to self: remember to take the trail at that one flat point, and then head down/right.

It was fun to ride the zippy Black Cat singlespeed (which needs a re-wrap) after 2 solid weeks of hefty/long Karate Monkey kludged singlespeed action. I could maneuver much better, and the climbing position was waaaaay better. I did miss the suspension fork on the top rattly section, but this bike is rigid only and everthing is a trade-off somewhere.

I am tired.


************************************************************************************

When G__ and I awoke on Monday in Moab, we went directly to the Love Muffin cafe for a rushed breakfast on the way to meet the shuttle for Burro to Town, which is now called "The Whole Enchilada". If you are in Moab and want some excellent Chef's Meat (it can be vegan), I recommendo the Love Muffin 100%. Even though the cook looks real shady and all. I'd post pictures, but I didn't take any- and the crazy lady who has some up on the interwebs will track me down and beleaguer me like a pesty gnat if I co-opt hers.

The shuttle was not the private affair I'd been led to believe. Softy! You owe me a bike ride! It was the commercial 9:30 ride up to the La Sals. We had to ride up with a party of unknowns. The driver ignored our repeated request to stop for beer. Requests which were seconded by the 2 fellows sitting in front of us, whom G__ referred to as Curly and Moe. You know it's bad when we can refer to some other crew as "the drunk guys".





Top of Burro. 11,000+



Moe. Who owes me some pictures! We drank some of their beer, and they drank some of our whiskey and we all rode bikes down a lot.





Pointing out at Castle Valley and Porcupine Rim. We're headed there and then some.






Looking back up the rim toward what we came down.



We even took naps.


Again if you are ever in Moab (and sometime everone who rides should go) I recommendo this ride over any other. Ridiculous amounts of singletrack with solid foundation Moab riding style finish. The upper singletrack section(s) of Porcupine are game changingly awesome.

Finally, allow me also to (again) point you at a local business: Poison Spider Bikes. Well stocked and equipped. High end rentals, parts and repairs. Top notch staff. TJ, I know you may be a little sour about having had so much of your combustibles combusted, but you made my Burro ride with the help that morning. Thank you. The Pivot Mach (!) 429 I demoed did not wow me, but the service backing it up did.

wait...what was the question?

Today we were "secret boys". I picked J up early from pre-school and we rode the Big Dummy down the road until we came to that one gate. The one no drivers notice on account of it's so tucked in between the willows. We know it, though, and it leads straight to some deliciously uphill singletrack.

Alternating riding and hiking we made our way to where the lollipops are stashed. We cleaned them out.


My children are under the impression that if your Tootsie Pop wrapper has an Indian (that's Native American to you) on it, it is redeemable for free lollipops. They are unsure about the specifics, and I am unable to verify this. We are saving them just in case.

*************************************************************************************

Looking back at my extended bikecation, the day after the SSWC09 G__ and I dragged The Enigma on his {GASP} 2nd mountain bike ride of the summer?!?!? If you knew what an impact he had on my riding when we lived in Telluride, and what an animal he is on the bicycle, you would join me in being aghast. Time was, you could be cruising up to Mountain Village for a powder day and see one lone figure on the highway. It would be The Enigma riding his lonesome road bike. In February. At 9,000+ft of elevation.


So we went over to Dolores to ride Boggy Draw Trail. I will say here, in print, that that trail is far, far superior to jokey Phil's World, and y'all can smoke that shuttlecock. We ended up passing the bottle and hotboxing the race van waiting for the rain storm to pass. I was Doubting, but G__ would not be denied, and in the end he was gloriously Right.
The heavens cleared.
He led us (the wrong way) around the trail, but it was so splendidly flowing that we rode the whole thing backwards only to turn around and ride it forwards. The backside faces out on seemingly endless rolling pine forest and you can see Sleeping Ute Mountain to the Southwest and Wilson and Lone Cone to the North. Epic scope. Calm and quiet Goodness. Also ripping fast twisty singletrack. If you are in the region, GO!

Regrettably, I only took the one picture. But you should believe me anyway.

Then G__ and I drove to Moab and went to sleep.

disclaimer

Josh Rey is responsible for ALL content on this blog. Any good ideas that have been put forward are solely his, and it is only through his skill as a Life Coach that I have achieved the modicum of happiness and well being I tentatively enjoy. Please contact him as often as you like to share the love. He may be reached at this address, or you can call him on the phone (a lot) at odd hours. (435) 260-8325. Josh Rey (dzhosh rray)

my finger puppet says: I think I shit my pants. [in a squeaky voice]

because I'm still in love with you

image from GoldenAge Comic Book Stories


October 4th is the Full Harvest Moon. Ride your bike underneath it.

If you are in my neck of the woods, meet at the usual- Parker Flats Cutoff. Dirt and pave. Beers. Stuff like that.

SSWC09 part the third- you're sick of this by now

image from Golden Age Comic Book Stories


Alternately titled: "What's your gear, Bro?"

Up and technical. Up was the word. Technical was a word. By now you've seen coverage and pictures other places (if you're innerested), which is nice because I knew I'd end up breaking the camera if I raced on it, and words are hard to come by. I actually registered for and paid for this race. #835 is my number.

My personal observations and highlights:

bitter running guy- I celebrated this guy at first. He blew me away when I passed him on the climb out of town astride his itty bitty 16" Street Demon, not least because in the idle drunken speculations about the course it was mentioned by someone that it'd be a great course to trail run if you could carry your bike. Lo, here was running guy wearing a super gay running short outfit with an external frame pack to strap the bike to for the hike-a-bike sections. I (and upon hindsight probably 834 other people, too) heckled him lovingly (it was done out of love). When I crowed about beating him at the finish he was sour as green apple gum and bitterly told me "Whatever. You couldn't do what I did!", to which I replied "No, I couldn't nor would I want to. It was just a joke. Have some whiskey." But he would not get past his pout. Pity. He was a stud, just a bitter stud.

unicycle guy-Same type of deal. Only I didn't offer him any whiskey on account of that was just dumb, and plus no one had mentioned how unicycleable the course was...

realizations about attraction-I never really gave a lot of thought to sexual fantasies before SSWC09. No, really. Now, I can honestly report that I know I am fetishistic about very small women dressed as CHP officers in tight fitting uniform shirts and short shorts while carrying large black batons. And diminutive women riding singlespeed whilst wearing football pads (What is it with Durango and the football pads? And the knee high sports socks?) Also women dressed in checkerboarded fake leather bodysuits sporting false moustaches. Please to add ladies on skates wielding dull machetes. Regrettably the ladies on skates would not come down off their safely smooth cement pad onto the "neutral ground" of the gravel, no matter how I tried to sweet talk them.

beer stops in first 1/2 mile? 2 of them. The organizers were really on to something with their tactics for spreading out the race.

extended hike-a-bikes- Here I am on the conga line 1st hike-a-bike. Beers and other refreshments flowed up and down the line like...well, like beer and other refreshments. Someone would yell from above or below and someone else would pithily reply from below or above. It was a real smart move on the race organizers' part to break up the race like that. There was zero potential for place improvement through aggressive passing, so everone settled in to pace.

passing- Though I yelled "Track" and "On your left" as often as I thought of it, I only really got serious about passing fools once. Here's how it went down: Shortly after the top out of the hike, the ridge got fairly technical but it's a technical with which I am comfortable. (Look at the connectors in the slabby broken up sandstone, don't look at the cracks and holes, and the lines will be there for you.) I was in line walking behind 5-6 guys when I realized we were walking out of habit/tiredness, and there was a huge gap in front of the lead guy. So I said "We can ride this, y'all. Let's get on." and someone in front said "Yeah." but no one made any moves, just kept walking. I got on and clicked my levers and rode at walking pace "Let's go fellas, we can ride this. It's a race." and no one said or did anything but keep walking. So I got a little louder and said "Get on your bikes or get out of my way!" at which point people scrambled. The 2 yahoos immediately in front of me 1/2 assed it and left their bikes partially blocking the trail, so I had to zig a little. The lead guy (BIG PIG! woot woot) stood off to the side at the base of a 45 degree slab of sandstone that was maybe 6feet high and 12-13feet long. I'd ridden it in pre-ride and knew the line was high, so there I went. I punched over the top like a good race monkey. I did not figure on the dust from 600+ other racers having passed, and my rear wheel slipped shooting the bike away from me and sending me ass first down the slab to tangle up in the bike and bush. The lead guy, whom I'll call Chaos, had to help me up. I picked up my bike tossed "Sorry about all the big talk fellas!" over my shoulder and was gone.

crash-Shortly after that, I dropped my front wheel off a ledge and came to a dead stop. I began to pivot around the front hub, heading for endo. I shoved back as hard as I could and my feet came out but the rear came down and the bike righted. Trouble was, I was 3feet above it horizontal. I cleverly absorbed the impact with the lower left side of my abdomen, only to hear a screechy pop. No pain. Quick check showed the saddle rails to be well and truly _ucked, but not broke. I bent the saddle back into shape as best I could, readjusted the nose down, and raced on. Today I rode the bike down to the shop to use the long pry bar to fully realign the rails. Golden. Try that shi_ with your carbon fibre, bicthes. I would have been gutted by the sharp punjied seatpost. Titanium for life, yo. 200lbs of fury. Rails and post, and do not forget it.

missing a turn- What I said about Durango coming out in droves and ruling it with the course? Forget it. They must have not marked a turn because I got confused and lost on the ridge and skipped the final pitching downhill to the finish/time-check. I knew I'd missed it, but damn if I was climbing back up to come back down, so I cut the course.

whiskey- After the 2nd heinous climb, I wanted beers. I came upon a fellow in a neckbrace at a flat likely looking spot and said "Hey Neckbrace! Y'all got beers?" They had Early Times in giant plastic bottles. It is so lowbrow it only comes in plastic bottles, which is perfect because you're only going to fall on them and bust them in your pocket if they're glass right? Classy.

bacon stop- What it says. People had hauled a table, camp stove, griddle, and 20lbs of bacon to cook up fresh and serve with twinkies and beer. Also, they were blasting Louis Armstrong. They were out of beer. I had 4 of the 8 Schlitz I'd started with left, so I gave them beer. They appreciated the effort.

meeting J__- She was hanging around one of the many beer stops on that side, so as I came up some rotten climb and around a corner there was a friendly face yelling at me and holding beer. That's nice.

the little things- people pulling me aside for safety breaks because they "knew" me from the hike-a-bike. "Hey Pinky, stop! I know you want some of this!"...the amazing support course side...the guy in the black tutu with SEXY TIME written across his sweaty love handled back...the gal who heckled me with "Go Don Johnson!" (not real sure about that one)...the trampoline that some kooks from Carbondale had rigged up in the trees...all the Elvises...



All in all, just a Good Time. Durango, you are not as cool as you think you are, but you did pull off a hell of a race. Thank you.

The lame after party with the loud and boring and interminable basketball game to determine next year's locale between Italy and New Zealand (won) I truly could have done without. $3 for beers? Fuck you, Ska Brewing. I don't even like your beer.

SSWC09 part the second- you're a pal of mine

I awoke to immediately get me to the auto parts store and replace the headlight bulb so as not to interact with the POlice again. (Any interaction with the POlice is a bad interaction.) I looked for my fellow travelers at the hostel. They were out. Went to the bike shop and bought a new 8speed chain and a map.

I returned to HQ, kitted up, and pre-rode the course. I looked again for my friends at the hostel, as it was on the way. They were out and I was left feeling very lurkerish. They carried no cell phones.

Once on the course, I came upon a series of other pre-ride gruops and eventually fell in with one which seemed on pace and knowledgeable. Most of the folks were from Steamboat, so the altitude was taking no tolls there. One young fellow noticed I was carrying beers and seemed enthusiastic about it. When I did open one, I offered him some. He returned the favor (and in kind...get it?) and started talking about himself. It got to the point, after several stops, that when he'd begin talking about himself I'd just ride off. I don't believe he ever cottoned on.

He spoke (a lot) about drinking beers and riding bikes. These are things I also enjoy combining, so I tried to be polite, but. I mention this because shortly after the local guide said "the cool line is to the right...don't blow it", our youngster blew it and apparently fell off one of the stone features atop the ridge and wrapped himself around a spine of sandstone to the tune of broken jaw, bleeding face, broken nose, etc. Though I wish him nothing but well, this is an exemplary example of the necessity of managing your risks. Drinking while riding is a skill, and as with all skills it must be refined and honed. Practiced. It is not a cute little hamster you can pick up and cuddle only to put down as soon as you smell the piss on it's legs- oh no, it requires some respect. Let's be careful out there, people.

I heard about this from G___ and E___, 2 guys I recognized from Grasshoppers and such. I'd ridden off by then. We waited a little while, but it was more fun to ride, and he wasn't my partner so off it was for more attempts to find the 2nd loop. I got lost trying to find it 3 times. Then I gave up and rode in to HQ.

That night was the Run What You Brung Show; a sort of mini-Handmade Show for builders who had bikes in the race. It was much too crowded, so I sat on a bench outside and drank beers from my pockets like your brother does. I met several interesting people while so doing. Most prominent were J____ from Tennessee, and the Rev(wha?!) from Texas (specifically Dallas-Fort Worth ). These were clearly people worth hanging around. That night ended boozily.


The next day we toured the WorldHeadQuarters of King Cage, which was well worth the effort. Ron Andrews is a true gentleman and inventor. The fixtures were laid out so it took 7 movements to turn a piece of titanium or steel tubing into a cage ready to be welded. Amazing. He also had a new product debuting, and allowed us to customize our own if we responded well to "Can you run a hammer?" (Which apparently one fellow had taken too long to reply and been denied the chance on safety grounds.) His coworker, Matt, took my broken cages I had brought in hopes of repair (yes, I am that guy) and fixed them on the spot. For free. Good people, good products.

We skipped the pre-party that evening, as _rad (from Dallas-Fort Worth) was cooking a masterful feast. _rad ended up having such a fine time that B__ (who is a paramedic and firefighter) wired him up for 2L of saline solution the following/race morning. Apparently B__ has partied with this crew before. At 10:30am, _rad pulled the IV from his arm and put on his race suit to make the 11am start. He was dressed as the Flash. A gal asked him at the start who he was supposed to be and he answered "You're obviously not a history buff." Good people, good products.

Then it was race time.