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.

it just seems like games

Rolling along the byways on the new route home, I found several pockets of the freshest air. Do you have those? I mostly ever come across them in the redwoods. Ozone so intense it's crazy. As though it were fake, artificial. I love that.

And, I came up on this boar so big that at first I mistook it for a bear! (all shoulders and crouchy movements, you know) That was a surprise.

And, there's this one bit of trail which was blocked maybe 8 years ago by a fallen Monterey Pine. Folks went around it, and eventually (years) the trail became very well established as going around it. But. I personally been actively looking forward to the time when it rotted clean away on account of how much speedy straightness of flow the trail carried into that diversion, which was that much more of a distraction and interruption to the trail because of it's situation. Well, it rotted through a month or 2 ago, and I moved it as soon as I saw the change. RErouted the trail along it's original flow, and damn glad to do so.

Some jackass went out of his way- into the (admittedly dormant, but still) poison oak- to replace the log section into the trail. This is a roughly 2'x5' piece of crumbly, bug-eaten pine. I chuckled, and hoisted it up again and really (I thought) sent it flying off trail, again into the poison oak. 3 days ago, it was back in the trail. 2 days ago, it was back off the trail, because I hiked it out and around and through the poison oak. Well, I wear knickers and tall socks. 1 day ago it was still off-trail, but I wonder how far dude is going to take this. It has been my experience that people are weird.

a thin veneer of magic

In the interest of furthering our common goals of fun and debauchery in combination with safety while cycling, I will say this: next Tuesday's Full Cold but not really that bad if you're dressed right Moon, the 17th, is worthy of a ride down Highway 1 to take advantage of the "public" soaking hours at Esalen. 1-3am ans all's you need is a reservation and $20. Or a back way in? Anyways, I can drop the race van off the day before so we sleep down there and drive back up in the morning light. Totally hard if we throw in some dark redwood dirt action, and totally worth the effort...

Also, rolling down the singletrack dropping off party favors. So, the getting is good.

Also also, if you like the westerns you will enjoy Blood in Their Eyes, by Thomas Cobb. It is outstanding.

based on science

Hey! Ho! I could fill this space with hurried and ill-focused phone pictures. Eh.

A couple things- "winter" on the central Wizeyeizeyest coast is toothless, but it'll gum you pretty hard. Covering my ears up real nice. I been wearing the full coverage booties, even- not just those dip-you-toe-in jobs the roadies all love. Some street riding in Santa Cruz for those that haven't been= my rep as a less than trustworthy ride leader comes home to roost once again as the cracks appear and the frowns come out. "I don't recognize this!" well, why would you? "There better not be any more hills! My legs are done!"

-record scratch here-

Lookit. A big ass ride (whatever the actual mileage may be on a given day, leaving aside the elevations) is just that. You should wait longer before you let that little crack open up real wide and stuff starts coming out. Like, forever. It ain't over until it's over...and when it is, you see how I guided you down the smoothest, warmest, least climby route available. People, in this town, wanna make me carry the heavy title- and it isn't undeserved, I like to ride and I like to ride interesting terrain and I like to keep riding BUT if I say it's the easy way you could keep your end up.


I know people who really are hard core.

add the Will to the Strength and it equals Conviction

I suppose a broken hip does give you a lot of time to kill. And, I must say, _odd killed the hell out of it with his researchemont concerning the riding options in the Death Valley. Emails flew back and forth in a flurry of schedules and maybes and reschedules and folks were in and folks were out and it went on for some time that way, the way things of that sort will. Everbody wants some.

Ultimately, 6 of us committed really and for real. Then the flurry was one involving increasingly frantic swapping of gear and racks and drive trains (for some). To the point that I settled on my "final" configuration of my tour bike the afternoon before leaving. To the point that as I rolled that final configuration down the driveway the morning of, I felt a vibration that I shouldn't feel and knew something was loose. What is there to do but turn around and figure it out? It was the cones in the rear hub. I tightened them and the wheel was sound, but my mind was blown- monkey wrench in the brain.


I said nothing to the fearless crew with whom I bike toured. The "check engine" light came on in the race van as _ick and I dropped the other side of HWY17 and I said not a word. All through Yosemite I feared the worst and kept it all quiet. What good could come of what ifs? For hours I wavered between intense concentration on the engine's feel or "fuck it", and the possibles troubled me.

We made it to the staging area without a hitch.

Each day I told myself to stop worrying about my too-light rear wheel crapping out under load while imagining what I would do when it did. I'd put a couple hose clamps on the bike in case of ____ failure(s), and thought about tying the cassette to the spokes with those and how I could (possibly) limp out in that way if it came to it. Etc. I said nothing about any of this, because what good could come of it. Even when _ick's own rear hub loosened up on his incredible cargo sled, I said nothing about my own concerns, because why jinx it further.

And each of the 5 days, in spite of the horrible washboarded ass-pounding climbs through miles of gravel or sand or sandy gravel, nothing went wrong. Our motto, quickly established, was "pretend you like it". It was appropriate. In spite of excellent route working out (planning, sure, but the map is never the territory...) Death Valley is some real hard work. Only 30ish miles a day had us in our sleeping bags and out by 8pm each night.

It was a big trip- too big to quickly sum up. Things that stay with me: cooking communal dinners is the way; 29+ is a real interesting category for some camping by bicycle; my Kelly Kettle would have worked just fine out there in the desert as there was always enough twigs around for some boiling water and I felt like a ass standing around begging hot water in the mornings; MSR dromedary bags are good equipment; having our Safety K__k around on the moto was a source of hilarity and disappointment (no cooler of cold beers?!?!); there is a light and it never goes out; etc.

Whomever of my fellow Death Valley Ramblers reads this: thank you for a real good time.



P.S. There is a lot of you name it on this internet about bike builders etc. Much of that is all show, and it saddens me in the shop and on the computer to see so much misplaced value. Hunter Cycles and Black Cat Bicycles just spent the last week sleeping in the dirt and riding the shit out of their bikes. Just like you. Not for a PRO anything- not a PROmo or a look book or a sepia-toned poem. That is some Realness worth considering. Also, Surly Bikes' junk straps are the greatest single bit of bike camping equipment ever.

guff is not a commodity valued by roosters

Done! Swapped old, tired chain rings out for new, clean ones (it's a whole new drivetrain, son!). Replaced shaky "constucteur" (ask me about 3 points of attachment and a claimed 50lb limit and I'll tell you no lies) rack with bomber Surly nice(and heavy) front rack for a sssssolid front end, especially coupled with the 29+ front wheel...aw yeah, it is rock steady now. Packed warm clothes and fancy pants (I am aiming to win the costume-a-thon). Carefully decanted all food items into space saving containers, and stowed it all in panniers. Stole wife's down sleeping bag (no one in town sells zipper repair kits?!? WTF?) and stuffed it like it was my own. Wrapped duct tape around the seat post, added a needle and some extra seat post clamp bolts to- dope! just remembered spare cables...back in aminute




...





OK. 1 each of shift and brake cables. Because shit goes wrong sometimes. Multiply it by 6. Times that by 5 days of riding around. Add some back country and a (at minimum) bottle of good corn liquor, and you are looking at some potential...

See you next week, suckers.

learn more now

insert fart noise here

More geeking out in the woods? Duh. This time around it is some total bikecamping switcheroo shakedown cruise. I all kinda swapped this and that on the Ogre for this upcoming/extended tour of. I wanted to see how it all shaped up. But you know what happens when you shake out your system, right?

All the bugs are exposed to the light.

 After a last minute light bracket positioning (latest in the on-going series of freakouts) I rolled over to meet Mr. P. Funny (to me) story: as I was touring down the bike path to get there, I passed some BMX hoodlums at the intersection, and they soon came upon me from behind. I heard them squawking about how no way was I (loaded homeless man in their eyes, I am certain) staying ahead of them. Of course that kind of blatant bike pathalete raceism cannot stand, and I gave chase. Full tweaker hobo-mode. They were silly looking as they furiously worked their dinky cranks and then stood over on one pedal to look back.  They seen me chasing and repeat repeat repeat, because it is hard work to maintain any speed on your 20" jibby bike. I took 1)the dirt parallel and 2)the win and D)them to school. I hope they learnt the lesson. It is always racing.

 My shitty set-up was shitty. 1st the 2 6L water bags barely fit in the frame bag. I wanted the water in there, because we are having to carry lots, and water is a hard load to roll. It is always sloshing and rebounding. It throws it's weight around. Hence, the wanting it in the center of mass, you see. No dice. My frame bag is specced for the Surly Pugsley, and I always thought I was real clever for getting that one and just using it on whatever bike- but surprise! I am not clever, and apparently the spec matters because the wide-assed BB of the fat bike allows for some corresponding wide-assedness in the bag, which coupled with a regular BB width will shit the bed if stuffed. On account of pedal striking with a vengenace. OK, OK, I'm real adaptable. Pull out one bag and strap it on top of the rear rack, and put the (non-compactable) coffee press in the bottom to keep the bag from flaring, and put the other water sac on top. Again, no dice; the water just slipped down and bulged the coffee press over and it was kick the clinky press every revolution. My brain knew it was not the BB, but it felt like a BB issue and it was maddening. Plus, it would quickly wear a hole in the frame bag. Gah! I cursed.

And, switching a new chain & cassette? Dang! I'm so proactive! Dope! Now it was old chainring interface problem having time. This is no way to Party. I stopped on the outskirts to drink beer and reflect on how badly things were going. Look:


 

So, yeah. With the hella refined routine, you might think we knew what was up. Liqour store, taqueria, woods. My favorite quote from the underwear clad Mr. P?

"It's perfect. Nobody needs to check my work." Yes. Why do I even bother with this "testing". My ish is so dialed. I've done this enough that my system is exactly correct for all time. Other worthies? Um..."how bad could it get?", "what's the worst that can happen?", and "hold my beer and watch this."

Since 1957! All of Cside(!) thinks we are just another couple of transient losers.

There is the wiggling gypsy wagon. Not even close to the actual load it must tote. Shimmy shimmy shake. Sad face.

I am avoiding calling you back because I know you know taking the fat bike is a bad idea and you want to talk me down from the ledge. I am aware of all the "road" sections and I am aware of how poorly the girthy tyres roll that stuff, but _ick is taking a fecking cargo-bike! Slowness is universal? And the fat tyres stabilise the load so well...

I am now engaged in the 2nd round of increasingly panicked shakedowns.