Bootlegger 100 (85) 2025

95% of the reason I did the Bootlegger this year was because Türd asked me, "Hey, are you doing Bootlegger this year?"

When confronted with the decision in this manner, I couldn't think of a reason to say no.  Peer pressure at the age of 55.8333 isn't really a thing to me, but ticking off boxes still is.  My single speed DNF in 2019 ("I tried to do the 2019 Bootlegger and all I got was this lousy hypothermia" t-shirt still on backorder) and the geared "I just want this done and how do gears work anyways?" 2024 left me with a need to finish this on a single speed.  Granted, the course was shortened to 85 miles for '25, but race is race.

I made some bad or mebbe good decisions, depending on how you looked at it.  I went with a 32X16 gear based on nothing but guesswork and the lack of a 17 tooth cog in my possession.  I didn't want to be spun out in the flat sections (at least terribly spun out like I was in '19), but I had no clue if it would be too tall of a gear for a wee man like me to turn over when things went up.  I'd swapped my tires to 45mm Reavers*, and once again, I hadn't any time to test them out or determine what would be a "good pressure."  I did use the Silca gravel pressure calculator (albeit Friday afternoon), and I'm pretty sure I ended up too high... which is probably better than too low?  I forgot that when I swapped the Vertigo Meatplow V.8 into garvel mode by stealing the wheels off the Crux like I did for Pisgah Monster Cross, the rotors are thicker than the ones on my MTN wheels.  Thus, on the first descent when I yoinked back on the brake levers... well, it was exciting.  Thank my lucky stars for external adjusters.

Oh, and I added a tiny handlebar to my regular handlebar. 

Not so much to "aero is everything" my bike in pursuit of glory.  I was just trying to reduce my time out there suffering by not having my hands 780mm apart turning me into a human parachute, and give my paws a nice comfy yet safe place to rest. 

The most interesting part of doing this event on a single speed is the fact that it predetermined my fate.  I would end up alone most of the day, as I'm spun out at 17-18MPH, so I can't play paceline games with the geared folks who are easily making 21MPH on Brown Mountain Beach Rd.*  Also, if I'm staying on top of a 32X16 on 4%+ climbs, I'm not gonna find any company there either.  After the first ten or so miles, I never really had a travel companion to pass the time with or share the wind.  I rode in a most solitary manner, but to be honest, I probably needed some alone time in my head.

When I bought my Wahoo like six years ago, I thought I'd pissed all over the spirit of single speed.  Modern accoutrements like suspension and electronics were not what it was all about, at least to me... back then.  How can you be in the moment if you have any information such as distance, time, temperature, elevation, or even a clue as to where you are going?

But here I am now.  

I pulled up the map page and zoomed in real tight.  It was much easier to eat an elephant like Maple Sally Road in tiny bites.  Granted, you start the journey by eating its whole ass first, but then it's just an ear here and and half-tusk there, and before you know it, you're done.  I just wanted to see the next nibble one at a time, and that made the whole 18 mile, 2,600' up, 1,600' feet down pachydermial meal a bit more manageable.  Munch on some yellow arrows, gently masticate the greens, and chomp down on the oranges and reds and swallow.  Bon appétit.

I'm not disappointed with 6th place SS.  The top three from last year came back and took the podium again.  I'm surprised to see how close the top six were, and in the back of my head, I'm thinking "what ifs..."

Like, "What if I hadn't stopped to wad my mouth full of bacon?" 

"What if I didn't slow down to stuff an entire handful of Clemmer's tater tots inside me?" 

"What if I had lowered my tire pressure enough that my ass cheeks didn't jiggle about every time I hit a washboard?" 

"What if I didn't get lost in my brain thinking about the futility of existence while solo'ing NC-90 and staring at the retracing of a black line back to town on my computer display?"

Regardless, good times, great course, delicious tots, yummy beer, and frands.

Anyways, the main motivation is, as it always is before PMBAR, preparing for PMBAR.  Just as the time after PMBAR is always about getting over PMBAR, both physically and emotionally.

Two weeks to go.

* Which the HYPR version just became ironically available to consumers like me this past Monday.  Meh.

** Wow.  I was a whole five minutes faster on a geared bike down Brown Mountain Beach Road last year when I didn't even care about "performance."  There might be something to this whole "gear thing."  I'll probably never understand it tho.

Them: "I used to read your blog."

Me: "It used to be readable."

This conversation with strangers who knew Watts happened on the way up Clawhammer (the second time) this weekend as I was sorting out my conundrum of having two similar'ish bikes that I posted about last week.

I took the Vassago Optimus Meatplow V.10 up to Pisgah for some PMBARmy training, sir.

This is my first Pisgah Proper* ride on the Optimus since I got it back in September (DuPont ≠ Pisgah).  So did the slight differences in position, weight, geometry, and fork/droop travel make a difference?  I'd have to say yeth.  I've had the Radimus since '21, and it's seen the bulk of my riding in Pisgah since I got it (and I didn't use STRAVA more than just sporadically previous to '20)  I set a fair number of PRs on climbs without really tryna get at it.  My critiques of STRAVA aside, I do believe a little more in the accuracy of the data on a long climb versus a 1/16 mile section of local trail.  We descended some super chunk gnar on Upper Upper Black, Avery, Buckwheat, and Bennett.  I was noticeably slower and perhaps more cautious when approaching sections that I now walk at 55.833 years old (although it might partially be somewhat attributed to the impact of Helene on these steep trails that I thought I knew so well).  Yeth, I walk some bits of Buckwheat and Bennett.  The older I get, the more I realize how tentative my weak-fingered grip to the mortal coil really is.  The risk versus reward scale keeps tipping a certain way the closer I get to putting my feets in the grave.  I'll just have to settle for the "I used to be able to clean that when I was younger" feels.

Another revelation of the past week:

Somehow via some targeted marketing or the internet just knowing I'm old and AI putting it in front of my face, I became aware of the fact that Zenni Optical started making cycling specific shades.  I've been a Zenni fan for almost ten years now, and I own more than a dozen pairs... although I've recently taken to setting them on the ground and stepping on them for funsies.  They're affordable, come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and have generally been more than okay... although none of them have offered the benefits of true cycling glasses.  That said, the Oakley cycling glasses I bought after my Lasik surgery had failed me (before swapping to Zenni) had aberration issues in my periphery.  It basically felt like I was riding through a collapsing tunnel, trees were attacking me, and bridges got narrower as I rode across them.  I moved those into city riding status, bought Zennis, and never looked back.

I was reluctant to throw money at another pair of wrap-type glasses, but Zenni has a respectable return policy, so why not?

Cons: 

* Like proper cycling glasses, these are big and douchey.  I went full douche by ordering some eye-popping loud frames instead of basic black.  Also file this in the "why not?" column.

* They were more than a hundred dollars, so it will make me even more sad when I step on this pair.

* There's a slight aberration issue in my far right periphery, but I have to be side-eyeing pretty hard in that direction to be looking through it.  Dunno know if it's due to my stigmatism or what, but I hardly ride my bike while looking side-eyed down the trail.

* Unlike all the other Zennis I've bought, these DID NOT come with a case.  The cheapest ones I bought have a crappy but functional plastic clamshell.  The more expensive everyday glasses I bought with transition lenses came with a nicer case.  These?  Nada.  Since these are an investment, I had to source a case from somewhere else.

Pros:

* These are full coverage, well ventilated lenses.  I haven't enjoyed this sensation since way back when my Lasik surgery was still effective and I could wear Tifosis or Smiths. They don't touch my eyebrows, so sweat should be less of an issue. 

* The POC Eye Garage feature on my helmet struggled to keep my other glasses in place when I stored them in the front of my helmet when I needed them outta the way.  That would be the reason I would set them on the ground to work on my bike, and half the reason I would step on them.  These frames are bowed like traditional cycling eyewear, so they fit nice and neat up in some vents on top/back of my head and won't fall out.  Theoretically, I won't be stepping on these glasses.

* These $90 frames seem a bit more robust than the usual $7 frames I buy.

* I got lucky with the tint.  Unfortunately, they don't offer clear or my usual yellow "fashion" tint.  I rolled the dice and selected 10% amber, and so far, I've had no issues with them being too dark to use in the woods or in overcast conditions.

* They're super comfortable and the non-slip nose and ear pieces really did their jerhb.

Once again, another "game changer" in my life that's happening a little late, but better late than never.

Up this weekend, Bootlegger 100.  A garvel race but not on a garvel bike.

I'm looking forward to it?

* We were passed by an e-bike going up from Hot Dog Gap to descend Lower Black.  That's okay, emmaright?  I also heard we're going to be able to use certain words again too.

Being me

First and foremost, The Pie and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary Monday (all weekend, actually and also Monday). 

Black and white because we old, like trees and whales and democracy.

We did the most Gen X thing we could think of Saturday night and went to see a '90s cover band.  Harvey Danger and The Foo Fighters had us on our feet, banging heads and pumping fists.  Nirvana cajoled us out to the dancefloor in the most nonsensical footwear for moshing about.  I've been incredibly lucky to have The Pie in my life for 33 years (we've known each other for 35, but it took awhile for her to take a shine to me).  We've been through loads of ups and downs, and she truly is my better half, more like better two thirds but the math is fuzzy.  Without her, I'd probably be working some job I hate in Ohio*, subsisting my human form with fried everything, riding a mountain bike in the mud once a week, and voting against my best interests.

That was for yinz who used to complain that all I write about is bike stuff but probably ain't reading anymore but whatever.  I think my readers are down to a few dozen or so frands, four anti-vaxxers, two death-wishers, and someone who's tryna save me.**

So... it may not sound like it made much sense to "upgrade" my 120mm '25 Step Cast 34 to the 130mm '26 34 SL. 

Dunno.  Does it make the Pisgah single speed with 140mm of travel as close to redundant as possible?

Hmmmm...

I rode Pisgah SS in the place where it was meant to be ridden... although locals telling you that a trail is "open" doesn't always jive with what the reality is.  Woops and big sorrys.  The other real "descent" of the day also fell into the same category, and although it was "rideable," it was obviously not so much ridden or primo or "open."

The Radimus Meatplow V.9 felt sluggish on the climbs, but then again, I've only ridden it a handful of times since getting the Optimus Meatplow V.10.  Since I've blurred the lines between the two bikes even further, I decided to figure out what makes the bikes different (enough to justify their existences).

There's a near one pound difference in tires/wheels/rotors (rotating weight), and the Pisgah SS is almost 2.5 pounds heavier overall, including the computer mount, cages, CO2, spare tube, plugger and tool installed on both.  The Optimus sits at 24.58 pounds... which seems heavy for a ti XC single, no?  Wait, I forgot that's with all the shit strapped and bolted on to it.  Reach is the same, the saddle to bar drop is -1" more on the Radimus (and the drooper has more droop), and the front center is 15mm longer on it as well.

I'm going to tell myself that they are different enough to be justified (for me).  I want more tire on Pisgah play dates, but I'm not going to be swapping tires or entire wheelsets for a day trip.  I also like the idea of keeping some mileage off my main bike and mebbe avoiding the Pisgah fairy dust mud on my nice moving parts. 

Before the installation, I actually read the manual for the Topeak Torq Stick Digital Pro.  I thought I knew how to use it entirely correctly based on using my previous digital torque wrench.  I was partially wrong. 

Red light, green light, vibrate, peak mode, track mode... not just a simple wrench after all, but easier to use like a smart person now that I am less dumb.

I'm fortunate that I have decent testing grounds nearby for when I gotta "tune" a new fork.  Obviously, I'm no suspension doctor, so I start at factory recommendos and go from there.  Head over to the rib cage high (2.5 apples) huck-to-flat behind the grocery store to check for bottom out.  Ride some slow tech at the BYT and make sure the rebound isn't too fast.  Hit the straight-fastiest, root-rockiest short descent on the same trail and ensure that the fork isn't packing up from a too slow rebound setting.

I ended up two clicks slower than recommended, which means mebbe I'm chubbier than I think, or I had heavy thoughts weighing my mind down.

The 130mm 34SL is the fork that didn't exist but I wanted when I dreamt this bike up last June and built it in September.  I wanted something a little more aggressive than the 120mm fork, but didn't want the extra weight of the regular 34... which I have on the Radimus... which would make the two bikes way too similar.  The Grip SL has been way better than the Fit 4, which I ironically installed in the Radimus's 34 when I thought I'd be "racing" on it more... doh.  I already sold the Grip damper, so I'm just gonna deal with that remorse. 

Gonna keep racking up the majority of my miles on the XC SS for sure, although Bootlegger won't be on this bike, but definitely PMBAR, but not Mountain Cat 100, but most definitely Breck Epic.  Still, the major majority... loving this bike.

* That says less about Ohio and more about what side of the fence I woulda fell on had The Pie not convinced me to leave my comfort zone.

** The unpublished hate comments give me all the strength I need to keep going. 

The Triple Dip 20.25

Welcome to the Triple Dip 20.25...

the event where everything is made up and the points don't matter.

Keeping with my recent theme of poorly timed upgrades, I got my new Fox 34SL on Thursday.  There was no way in hell I wasn't going to install it despite having no time to assure that I had it set up properly before a forty mile day interspersed with who knows how many hard efforts on unknown trails.  My excite could be easily palped and could also be easily blamed for my oversight of not adjusting my saddle after putting on a 10mm longer travel fork.  

Meh.

I'll write more about the new front squish when I've had more time on it.

There's probably no point in writing anything close to a blow-by-blow of the six race stages.  The fastest guy on the entire day was not me, and the rest of us barely had a chance. 

I have underwear older than this kid.

Flat stages, sandy beaches, punchy climbs, rooty descents, downed trees,... nothing was slowing this kid down.  Once it was realized that not only was cheating basically ok, it was whole-heartedly encouraged, and that's when the real race began.  Creativity was rewarded and possibly slightly penalized, but the more visible the alternate line selections were to the spectating party pacers, the better...I guess.  If you cut the course and nobody sees it, what's the point?

Pretty sure I got to finish one stage a lap early for the win by taking a half hot dog hand up directly to the mouth. 

I only got lost on the course once.  Another time, Bryan, Basil, and myself missed the cue to head to some start line, and although we weren't technically at the start, once we found the course, we were encouraged to hop in whenever we felt good about it. 

We woulda won had someone not been even better at cheating than we were.

I collected some beads that were meant for something, and then traded those beads for more finisher points, which more than likely (assuredly) did not matter in the least.

Coming outta a steep ditch that if you were 75% likely to make it, the jubilant cheers from the crowd brought your odds up to 100%.  Conversely, if you were only 50% likely to make it, the resounding jeers brought your chances down to a big goose egg.

No shame, Bryan*.  This just shows how stupid deep the ditch was.

Happy to bring home some hardware regardless of efforts, expectations, and extemporaneous obstacles thrown in my path.  I am the second fastest man person (that showed up).

What a wonderful day to once again ride around with a bunch of people whom I more than likely have a shared deep appreciation for some of the finer things in life.  Not great prep for the upcoming Bootlegger 100 garvel race, but better than watching Joe Rogan trying to glean useful health tips.

Oh, and if you're looking for the same kinda fun (with slightly more rules), this is coming up in May:

* Okay, mebbe a little shame.

Sticking a pin in it

Just because it's what I'm doing and what I'm gonna do and something more excite later this week (that mebbe, this is my Saturday plans:

The annual dad joke on wheels and literally hot dog fueled event is once again a thing to do.  It's fun.  It's hard.  It lasts the better part of a day.  It ends with beer in the sun.  I may have a chance to make a perfectly fine bike better and/or worse before the week is out (depending on the timeliness of a UPS delivery and my desire to take on yet another poorly timed "upgrade"). 

Also, there's this:

I told myself that after finishing last year, that was enough.  I did it on my noodle bar shifty bike because the year that I got hypothermia and quit (on my single speed) was stuck in my craw for too long.  

I wanted to ride with a frand all day long last year, and that didn't pan out, so it just became something to do so I could say it had been done.

Well, then the 108 mile route gets chopped (due to Helene damage to the Blue Ridge Parkway?) down to 85 miles and a frand says "you wanna do this?" and I say "yeth" because I convinced myself the only hard part was the ride up to the Parkway (duh) and then I also decide that I need to do it on the Vertigo Meatplow V.7 with garvel wheels and tires (or just garvel tires on MTB wheels?) and I order tires better suited to the duties of the day and now I'm fully committed.  I'm just going to assume that freezing rain only falls on the Parkway.

I look forward to spinning out a 32X18 on the way outta town and getting passed by people with huge hydration packs and fat bikes again...

And then hopefully catching them all back when things go up and down.

Of course, all of this is just training for...

Of course, everything is training for PMBAR.  

EVERYTHING.

But first, this:

Sober Stinkfist

I'm gonna talk about tools...

shitty, not shitty, somewhat imperative, and mebbe not so much?

I wrote some time ago about a regrettable (for ethical reasons) purchase I made from Temu because I allowed myself to fall for the tactics they use on feeble-minded consumers.  Feeble or slightly beer-addled... same same.

I bought a super poopy "$75" derailleur hanger alignment tool for $3.74.  I only own one geared bike now, and I've not used this tool out once since I bought in in January '24.  I took a stick to my hangdown on my garvel bike a few months ago but didn't bother breaking out the tool because it was only causing one funky shift on the cassette that I could mostly tolerate.  After the Watts van trip, I decided to finally put it to the test.

It was as poopy as expected.  There was a lot of play in the arm that had to be accounted for, but it was 85% better than eyeballing it, and I felt very "mechanical" when I was done.  That said, I've used a real DAG before, and this is no real DAG.  If five outta six of my bikes weren't single speeds, I'd buy a decent one.

I meant to swap out the OG Forekaster 2.35 rear tire on the Vassago Optimus Meatplow V.10 to a more Florida-friendly 2.4 Aspen before the trip, but... le sigh.  I decided to prioritize the task upon my return, but I found out that these had fallen outta my oh-shit-I-hope-I-don't-need-these-things drawstring bag that resided in the recesses of a cupboard in the van:

I swear by these clever things, and I missed my Birzman tubeless tire levers suchly:

Of course, the liner makes it all the more challenging.

I managed to get it on with only a minimal amount of swearing, and I got so caught up in the success that I forgot to put sealant in before getting the tire all the way on the rim... so, more swearing.  Obvs.

I member culling the herd of Dick Support on the sidebar late last year.  Topeak was one of the things I dropped because I hadn't heard anything from them in some time, so I assumed I was persona non grata.  

I was wrong.

I got the "whatcha want" email a couple weeks ago.  Honestly, one of my wants was pretty meager.  

I had been using a random drill bit that was just the size of the core end of the stem, but some of the valve stems I'm currently using have an inner diameter that's a bit narrower at the base.  That means I can't get full insertion with my bit.  In comes the Tubi Valve Cleaner into my world.

I didn't have to look beyond the pegboard in front of me to find my first victim.

One end of the tool has a valve core remover built into it.  I now have an even one hundred different valve core removers at the ready at all times.

Anyways, a few seconds of reaming later...

As Standartenführer Hans Landa would say, "THAT'S A BINGO!"

I also started futzing with this:

I wish I had the slightest clue why I have a complete rear XTR brake master cylinder/lever in my possession.  Anyhoo, the used brakes I bought to "downgrade" the Vassago Optimus Meatplow V.10 had a beat up looking rear, and I saw some fluid that belongs on the inside on the outside, so I wanted to learn a thing or two about the last bit of innards I wasn't familiar with, the bladder.  It's a way too long story, but after some head scratching, swearing, and moments where I was pretty sure I did a bad thing, I was able to assemble a whole lever and use this new toy to finish it off:  

More about that after I point this out...

I love that I now have an 8mm crow's foot to put on a torque wreck to squash my olivers down proper like, but also... guess what?

I guess I now own one hundred and one valve core removers.

The entire kit offers up a conundrum for me.

I like the handy travel case... but I don't think I'll ever use the Phillip's head, flat head, or 5/6 of the T-bits.  I hope to gob I never have to use the crow's foot when traveling (although if I'd had all the pieces-parts, it woulda came in handy the night before the 2024 PMBAR), and I can't remember what a 10mm Allen key goes into bike-wise (removing a 1999 XT free hub body?).  That said, I'd definitely want the 60nm ratchet with the speed sleeve attachment for extra leverage for things like Paragon sliders and pedals.

So, I kinda wanna break the kit up for my purposes, but I know that you should treat your torque tools like a Stradivarius violin and only take it out of the case to use it, and then IMMEDIATELY return it to said case before anyone can breathe on it sideways.

Meanwhile, my bathroom ceiling needs repaired, the roof has a leak (unrelated), and my HVAC unit needs its spring cleaning.

The women do not find me handsome.  They do find me handy.

The Van with Two Brains (give or take) Tour

I really needed that trip...

to never end.

Monday was a hard reentry into the real life.  I'll get over it.

I love van/bike trips with Watts.  I go into them with little to no expectations and very few questions.  I assume we're going to go on many rides.  At least two of them will last long enough for me to run out of both food and hydration, even if he did tell me beforehand how far we were going.  We'll push the limits of daylight at least once, and I won't mind it one bit.

Of course, I'm skipping over the fact that the whole thing started with a Watts Fappening two Saturdays ago, which would normally get its own post... but won't this time.

The night before the Watts Fappening, I installed this OneUp drooper remote for no other reason than it just happened to show up that morning.

First of all, yeth, I ignored my larger problem of dropping chains and focused my mechanical energies into this non-problem.  I didn't wanna take on such a relatively complex endeavor the night before leaving for a trip that required this bike to function when we got where we were going.  Considering that where we were headed, a drooper post was not really necessary, I still couldn't help myself.  My stupid plastic bike is the two-wheeled equivalent of my Honda Fit of Rage.  It is a utility vehicle, and I don't like putting money, effort, or time into it to improve it 1%. 

But here I am.

The saddest liquor store on planet earth.  Too bad it was a Sunday, and they weren't open.  I would have loved to meet their Gimp.

Watts won the prize for finding the first (and perhaps only) craft beer can in a ditch.  So.  Much.  Bud.  Light.

I found out that my favorite gravel is not gravel.  It's clay roads and sand.  Like lots of sand... deep sand... that goes on and on way past the point where you think you can keep a bike upright and you just keep going because walking is failure (I tell myself).

This ride sun burnt my lips.

Corner of New Hope and Hicks... mebbe you had to be a J6 Hearing fan to really get the joke.

We camped amongst sheep and chickens and pig and peacock and horses and this little bird came into the van just to take a shit on the dashboard.  Probably just because he could.  Mebbe the smells emanating from the van were indicative of a shitting place?

Oh... we rode mountain bikes too.  Plenty of places.  Some memorable for being super bueno and mebbe one for being pretty close to dog poop.  One day, we rode 25 miles of trail to pop out in Santos and say hi to Foye from Shimano, have a beer at a bike shop, and then ride 25 miles back.

At some point on the trip, we were just buzzing along the highway when the van made a loud "WHOOOOOOOMP" noise.  We just looked at each other, around the back of the van, at the bikes still Kuat'ed in place... nada.  Then we looked up.

The window part of the sunroof blew off.  We turned around and drove slowly back up the four lane road while looking in the ditches and median for a piece of clear plastic.  Nothing.  Parked the van, jumped out, grabbed a couple bikes, and rode backwards up the highway until we couldn't see the van (and the unlocked bikes) anymore.  Watts turned back to retrieve the van (and hopefully the unlocked bikes)... and then there it was in the median... at least the parts I was able to collect.

Toss it in the van and realize that this is our somewhat immediate problem.  We think of a million different ways to fix it involving wood, brackets, bolts, screws, a cordless drill that we don't have, makeshift "ladders," but opted for the simplest solution.

We ran outta Gorilla Tape, but this sufficed to keep the raccoons out of our sleeping area for the night and get us to a hardware store the next day for more tape.  I'm not suddenly tall.  I'm standing on an unstable cooler sitting on the end of a very heavy picnic table.

I truly fell in love with this kind of "all-road" riding.  Loose dogs per mile numbers were on the tolerable side.  The "being nowhere in the real world" feeling was palpable.

I didn't take my phone out to take pictures very often.  Aside from some doom-scrolling in the van to make sure I wasn't recently drafted to go fight Canadians or Panamanians or Greenlandians, I tried to stay in the moment.  Poopy work life means that I gotta make the most of my time away from Charlotte, and my phone sometimes equals work (which as I said before, has been poopy).

There was down time.  Beers were had.  And salty things (saltier than Watts).

We had access to private docks for private things, like raising ocean levels.

We visited Watts's buddy Drew's shop, Super Corsa Cycles, and there was so much interesting stuff, history, and high end bikes... and that's the only picture I took.

I got some of my Fu Manchu caught up in my rear (non-Hydra 2) hub.  I don't think it's a warranty issue.

Dare I say that some of the quiet times between the rides were the best of times?  I'll dare.  Drew and his wife were pleasant company, and they will be our first guests on Watts and I's podcast, Bitter and Jaded: The Problems of the "Industry," How Two Middle-Aged White Guys Can Fix It, and also Pringles Recipes.  Coming soon.

Had to hit pause while Watts called his agent to see if the bid he put on Jerry Seinfeld's Ferrari at the Amelia Island car show was accepted.

It was not.

Home of the most disgusting looking hot foods counter I've ever seen, unless you like three day old baby diarrhea chili and deep-fried breaded mud clumps.  I'll give the place a pass for having Zingers tho.

I guess car show people know who this guy is (guy on the truck, not the guy on the bike).  

So many trees from Jurassic Park.  If Florida wasn't so flat... and hot... and flat... and buggy... and Trumpy, I could totally live here.

And that's it. No blow by blow.  No "we stopped here" and "we rode there" specifically.  Another memorable week of riding, food, beer, getting gas and ice, sleeping in strange places, Pringles over-consumption, staring at the skies and natural wonders, and breathing it all in.

Now, back to life.  Back to reality.