And now is the time on Sprockets....

when we go to PMBAR...

My bags are packed and all systems are go for an early exodus from work tomorrow.

One bag of gear and another chock full of fjear.

The irony of the situation is that tomorrow I'm driving in to work so my car can be staged as close to the uptown as possible, and while that in itself is not entirely ironic the fact that I ride my bike to work almost 100% of the time under normal conditions but happen to be driving TOMORROW is totally ironic as once I park my car I'll be heading over to the Dowd YMCA to join the mayor and hundreds of other cyclists to ride .73849 miles into uptown Charlotte for the annual Ride to Breakfast with the Mayor that traditionally kicks of BIKE! Charlotte every year (yes, that was one sentence). To summarize, I'll be driving 4.3 miles to unload my bike so I can ride it .5 miles to the YMCA to then ride .73849 miles to eat breakfast .139 miles from where I start my work day. That should be a good warm up ride for PMBAR, dontcha think?

Hard to believe, but when I get back from PMBAR I will barely have time to unpack and then re-pack before I leave for my first (but the third annual for everybody else) Dirt, Sweat, and Gears 12 Hour Race in Fayetteville, TN. I'll either be rolling in the Pro Duo class with my PMBAR partner Thad, or if I can't stand him and his crybaby tendencies any more than I may just have to go solo. Either way I'm finally going to the big endurance party of the East Coast that I've only heard about in folk lore and from the mouths of gypsies. Speaking of gypsies... Peter "Dude, where's my nutsack?" Keiller will be there too, so if you're one of the many people who have been bugging me about 2009 Bad Idea Racing jerseys be sure to bring your complaints to the design team in person. Please be sure to say something flattering about his new steel frame, or the whole encounter might be sullied by Peter's tears.

No posts tomorrow due to scheduling conflicts. Set your alarms forward a few minutes and get some sleep instead. For those of you who tend to read this at work please go here to waste your time.

Come see the violence inherent in the sySTEM

Options. I am at my worst when I have options. Tell me to ride in a straight line and you'll never see me hesitate as I head off bearing directly towards the horizon, but tell me I can go left or right.... Hold on, let me pull out a map, consult google earth, and ask someone at a gas station which way is better.

PMBAR is all about options. The path you take is often times more important than the speed you travel down that path. This trail is technical, the other one is overgrown, there's another option, but it's a gravel road that goes way outta the way, there's always that other trail that goes over six passes, don't forget the one that stays low even though it has twelve river crossings...

Sunday I headed out to the Pisgah National Forest with Big Worm to meet up with Eric, Dennis, Leanne, Johnny Nutsack, Blair, Tim, Rob, and Sam for a PMBAR feeler ride in the confusing (for me) Turkey Pen area. No other part of Pisgah forces me to pull the map out more than TP, and I'm sick of fiddling with my map every two miles down there. I now have it ingrained in my memory (the part that has a one week expiration date), and there shall be no hesitation down in the TP at this year's PMBAR.

photo cred: Leanne

I'm so glad she snapped the photo right before I realized I would never make the sideways switchbacked drop that all the smart people walked down. Stupid smart people.

More options??

I know how much everybody likes when I talk about stems. Recently I cashed in a couple ubiquitous Thomson certificates, and my new 50 and 70mm stems showed up VIA the brown clown.

The new 50mm was to replace my old one while the old one is to go on the "yet to be named Zion" when it gets back from the powder coater. The 70mm is for some position experimenting, and to try out an... *gulp*... option. I threw it on before the Pisgah exploratory ride, and it performed very well in driveway wheelie testing. Granted this coulda been due to the shorter wheelbase with a 20T cog or the higher torque of the lower gear, but a driveway wheelie can not be ignored. Whether you're doing the Tour de France, Iditasport, The Tour Divide, a local XC race, or just riding around the corner to get a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk so you can hold up in your dwelling as swine flu lays siege to your neighborhood the most useful skill you can have in your repertoire is the ability to pop a wheelie. It is a scientific fact.

Since the 70mm stem passed the wheelie test I went ahead and rode it in the mountains. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, all my suspicions were correct. My lower back and shoulders were happier with the longer stem, but when I was approaching downed logs on descents I struggled to get over them at speed. Since the last thing I want to be doing as I'm hastily approaching an object that has the potential to separate me from my bike is to be "struggling" to avoid said separation I'm not sure what to do now. Settle for comfort and the occasional scary moment or wince in pain for hours waiting for that opportune moment when I can loft my steed over a log and pump my fist in the air screaming "Excaliber!!!!!!"

Options.

Do I drop the whole Moor thing or do I give you more?

You deserve Moor.

"I'm on a f*@king boat!"

More Moors in more places

My preparations for the PMBAR started a coupla months ago. I saw the vending machine man putting his food-not-food into the machine that turns pocket change into hydrogenated enriched semi-edible products. I watched him outta the corner of my eye, and to my shock, dismay, and extreme pleasure I saw him toss some of the "old" food-not-food into the trash can next to the magic machine. I came back to the scene of the sorta-food crime awhile later and dove into the waste basket to find this:

Honestly that's not a fair representation of the haul I made. There were some other food-not-foods in the can, but being that they were less than hydration pack friendly they have since been consumed. HMO potato chips and Lance sorta peanut butter crackers would just end up destroyed if I shoved them in my pack with all my mandatory PMBAR gear.

I realized the other day I'm talking to some new folks in the crowd who have no idea what PMBAR is. Since I don't wanna leave yinz behind I'll give you a short explanation. Back in 2003 my friend Eric Wever came up with an idea. Set up five checkpoints in the Pisgah National Forest and have teams of two riders go out and race to get 'em. I told him he was nuts and stayed home that weekend (I had never done an endurance race that wasn't the "12/24 hours of..." at that point). Then all the stories spread like wildfire over Eric's "Pisgah Death March", and a legend of east coast endurance racing began. Since then the name of the race has been changed to the Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race to appease the Forest Service which didn't like the idea of a permitted event with the word "death" in it. Eric has also messed with the format here and there adding bonuses for more checkpoints and allowing riders to finish with as few as four. This event has sold out since 2004 or 2005 (I can't remember), and the field has grown from 25 teams to last year's 75 teams with people still on the waiting list wanting a piece of the action. (Eric, correct me if I'm wrong on any of this).

I have been there every year since 2004. I've had results as varied as my partners. I've ridden with strangers, acquaintances, and good friends. I've had a partner break his frame and I ended up solo'ing on for an unofficial finish, and I've started the race with a partner who Lock-Tite'd his brake lever(rendering it ineffective) the night before the race. I've gone for the minimum amount of checkpoints in order to get back to the free beer as fast as possible, and I've hung it out (with Elk) to snag all seven check points in the name of glory and honor to end up in second place. It seems like I've done everything except win PMBAR, and even if I did I'd still be back the next year. It's just that good..

Like a Moor who shows up unexpectedly to brighten your day.

We can all breathe again

Last week's blogcott felt like I was holding my breath underwater for five days straight. Tons of shit happened that woulda been significant enough to blog about (it doesn't take much), and now a week later I don't know if I could re-cap it all.

Quite a few people didn't get the point of the blogcott. That's okay... I'm not sure I had a point. I just felt like paying homage to all the short worded bike bloggers out there. The masters of bicycle brevity, the swamis of cycling succinctness, the overlords of endurance ephemerality... it was really for them. Warm fuzzy feelings typed on my keyboard, transmitted through cables powered with soon to be clean coal technology, and displayed on their screens to validate their efforts more than 1,000 seperate comments on a singular post ever could. My hat was off to them, but now it's back on, and Bad Idea Racing V 1.0 is back in online. With two races coming up in the next two weeks (PMBAR and DSG) I should have plenty to write about that is more up my vernacular alley.

With PMBAR being less than a week away I can say that you missed at least three day's worth of daily updates on the "Which pack should I use to carry what crap this year?" posts. Multi-tools, mini pumps, tubes, spare parts, CO2 dispensers, emergency/first aid crap, food, water bottles, saddle bags, lights... all strewn about in the bike room in an attempt to pare my gear down to the minimal weight and pain in the ass possible for hours upon hours of riding/hike-a-biking in the Pisgah National Forest. Bring my Ergon BD2 and have enough room to carry Thad and his bike to the finish line on my back if necessary? Maybe go old school and use my modified Blowfish that I've owned for the last decade and has seen action in five earlier PMBARs? Go Reinhold Messner style with the Wingnut Assault, carry as little as possible, and hope for the best? PMBAR is such a problem for an obsessive compulsive competitor with too much time on his hands and too many options available. Eventually I'll get it all sorted out, and more than likely I'll end up with the same set-up I've ran for five years straight. I'll admit PMBAR was much easier when I was teamed up with The Wonderboy when our goals were to hit the minimum amount of checkpoints and get back to the kegs ASAP. This "in it to win it" mentality sure is a bit of a drag.

What do you have to look forward to this week? Stem swapping? Pack picking? Pack packing? This and more if you wanna play along from the comfort of your home/cubicle/laptop wirelesss internet coffee shop.

Stay tuned for more or Moors if Moors are more to your liking...

Blogcott Day Five

For more info on the blogcott see here.

The "I'm gonna do my best to keep this random photo and succinct commentary to fifty words or less (minus the title) in order to appease the screaming masses" post:

This is Jon Cariveau*, my point of contact at MOOTS:

Photo cred: Jimmy

He travels all over the country to events and bike shops in the name of all things MOOTS. If you see him out and about please go up to him and say "Build the MOOTScheese Sandwich 36'er and make Dicky's dreams come true".

*Or is it?

Blogcott Day Four

For more info on the blogcott see here.

The "I went on an ordinary training ride with my camera again" post:

Yesterday I stuck with the schedule and went out for a light workout in the dirt. Because coach had me in the pain cave two days ago we felt like I should stay under the shady ledge of discomfort for a little recovery ride.

Team Dicky maneuvers his bike with handlebars just like us.

Team Dicky wears a helmet just like us.

Enthusiasm _________________
Powerful feelings ______________
Awesomeness________________

After a great ride I went out with my sweet girl and had some awesome tuna-free tuna sushi on her (she paid for it, neither of us actually knew the girl we used as a plate).



Sorry JK, we all knew it was coming.

Blogcott Day Three

For more info on the blogcott see here.

The "I found a totally awesome image (or youtube video) on the interweb and had to share it with you since you probably have a hard time finding awesome things on the interweb on your own, and so I'm going to stick it here on my blog without any actual succinct commentary of my own" post:

*Disclaimer: I actually had to add the text to the above image. I had trouble finding anything awesome on the interweb on my own, and I didn't wanna use something someone else "discovered" already.




Damn it....

I can't just leave it at that, so...

I give you two for Tuesday on a Wednesday Blogcott Day Three Part Two.

Since Jill had a special request (and we all know that I have a very private public infatuation with Jill) I'm going to go ahead and please her the only way I know how to with...

The "my kids-cat-dog-bird-porcupine are sooooooo cute and my life is sooooooooo perfect" post:

Here's the abandoned kitten The Pie has been bottle feeding since it was about 2-3 days old:

Mike Piazza is allergic to cuteness.

The Pie is just so wonderful and sweet and awesome. She recently sold our gold and diamond wedding rings to buy a goat for a village in Haiti (note the $9.95 surgical steel replacement). She is the best wife a guy could ever have. Speaking of how great my life is, just yesterday Fajita recited pi to one hundred decimal places and The Boy entertained the neighborhood children with a magic show that ended with him making my Element disappear. My life is so great that I bet you wish you were me.

Blogcott Day Two

For more info on the blogcott see here.

The "When I was in China on the All-American Ping Pong team, I just loved playing ping pong with my Flexolite ping pong paddle" post:

Saturday I decided to head out for some dirt action. Since my bike has only been built for less than a month and already has 130+ miles on it I decided I should probably give it the once over. Lock the front brake, and rock the bike back and forth to see if my Cane Creek 110 headset had loosened up at all... no, perfect. Throw the Industry Nine wheels on the truing stand and hit them with a tensiometer to make sure they haven't lost any tension... tight and true. Grab an 8mm allen and make sure my Middleburn cranks are snug up on the splines of my ISIS bottom bracket... good to go. Wipe down the chain and lube it up proper... slick as shit. I shoulda known that the bike would be fine since I built it under the watchful eye of Will Bolt.

With the bike good to go I grabbed my riding gear and threw it in my old messenger bag... oops, almost forgot my Swiftwick Ole Fours. Wouldn't be a bike ride without them. I threw my sweet Twin Six Stripe Cap on my head to keep the morning chill of my head while I stood in the driveway mounting my MOOTS MOOTO X on my Raxter Rack.

By the time I got that far I was standing in my driveway realizing I had already done enough to justify mentioning all my sponsors in a succinct post with a loosely associated random photo. I took my bike off the rack, went back inside, grabbed a pretentious bike themed beer from the fridge, and got online to look for new aps for my iPhone.

Oh yeah... MISFIT PSYCLES!!!

I've justified my existence to my sponsors today.
Success!!!!

BTW: Thad has joined the game. This is catching on, and I think the blog world will be set on it's ear (whatever that means) by the end of the week.

Blogcott Day One

For more info on the blogcott see here.

The "Sorry it's been so long since I've posted" post:

Sorry it's been so long since I've posted on the old blog, but there's just not that much going on. I haven't ridden my bike in a long time. As a matter of fact I'm not even sure where I left it. I might have sold it to buy this really cool iMac computer so I can surf the web and look for tight jeans and a new ottoman online while I sip down my machichiatto lafte expremo at Starbucks (where I get free Wifi with my $7 coffee-like drink... righteous!!!!).

I haven't really done anything interesting in awhile that's worthy of note. Sometimes I wonder when it will be possible to Tivo life so I don't have to wait for the good parts. Why did I bother posting today???

Oh yeah, I got this really cool new iMac.

This type of post can always go the other way....

Sorry it's been so long since I've posted on the old blog, but I've just been so busy lately. Stuff at work, stuff at home, stuff on top of my stuff. I've been trying to wade through all the stuff I have to do, but just look at all the shit on my desk:

Yes, that's actual shit on my desk. Not only do I have to clean it up I also need to find out exactly who or what has been shitting on my desk. Gah, that's just one more thing to put on my list of things to do, which means it may be awhile before I get around to posting again. Sorry, I'm sure you are going to be disappointed without the daily (or at least semi-daily... or quite possibly bi weekly... well when ever I remember I have a blog) verbiage and the loosely associated random photo.



Remember, this is all for fun.. and... er... ummm.. charity. Yeah, that's right, charity. All the proceeds from this week will go to my favorite charity, so thicken your skins and put on your hip waders. Four more days to go.

Big Worm has joined in too.

The people have spoken...

Well a very small percentage of the people have spoken, and I can't honestly say I listened. Starting next week I will begin my one week blog boycott.. a blogcot, or perhaps a bloycot if you will. I'm not saying that I will halt all posting, but I am saying things will be different around here till April 27th when I will resume regular programming.

I'm gonna do the "photo accompanied by a succinct word blast" style post for five days straight. Some of you may say I've had this planned all along... well they're kinda right. I've been wanting to mock my fellow short versed and mildly visually enhanced cycling bloggers for quite some time. This just seems like the right time. I feel bad that Fatty took the time to explain the "comment feedback VS post quality" phenomenon in my comments last night. I kinda figured that one out on my own a long time ago. Tell people that your balls hurt when you ride technical trails or you don't know which tire to run in Michigan and get an assload of comments, but write a witty post that you spend a fair amount of time pulling out of your creative ass and.... nothing. I'm used to it, and contrary to yesterday's post I'm actually over it. I get all the validation I need when my oatmeal and yerba mate kick in every morning (yes, validation through defecation).

I'm going to do my best to do this intriguing style of post justice. Although there are many variations of the "photo accompanied by a succinct word blast" type posts I'm going to try to hit my favorites. I've only got five days after all, so I won't have time to cover the entire genre. This phenomena is so common that one could base a master's thesis on this engrossing topic and possibly be driven mad trying to explain the global implications of this cultural shortcoming. It's complex, diverse, at times confusing, and more widespread than the common cold.

So next week I'll be down with the sickness. Suggestions shall be heard, but I think I've already covered all my bases. Short bloggers... prepare for battle.

Yes, I do ride around my backyard in my full scary MOOTSkit. It's in my contract.

Sorry, I'm just practicing.

Don't push me

Why did I bother?

After my ride on Sunday (something like 34 miles at a semi-assertive pace) I was feeling a bit bunched up around my shoulders. I decided to mount up my m-u-c-h longer 60mm Syntace stem in place of the 50mm usual suspect Thomson. I mounted it within a few hours, stood back, and shivered at the sight. I placed the bike in the stand, and I left it in the middle of the bike room hoping the new stem would grow on me. It didn't. True, it only got a driveway shakedown, and perhaps the fit would have been fine, but as I stared across the room at this hideous monstrosity I was reminded of the man driven mad by the "vulture eye" in the Tell Tale Heart.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved my old stem. It had never wronged me. It had never given me insult. For a longer stem I had no desire. I think it was that red eye! Yes, it was this! That red burble emblazoned with 10Nm resembled the eye of a vulture -- except with letters and numbers on it. Whenever it fell upon me my blood ran cold, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to remove that hideous stem, and thus rid myself of the eye for ever.

So yesterday morning after I spent hours pouring my heart out into my daily blog post I arose from my chair and removed the offensive stem. I shoulda spent those ten minutes out on a "training ride", but there I was with wrench in hand at 7:10AM uninstalling the very thing I installed less than 60 hours prior. Time wasted and well spent.

Speaking of wasting my time...

I spent a shit load of time typing that rambling eloquent post yesterday. I did my best to give you some entertainment, and what did I get?

Well I guess you would have no way of knowing, but yesterday was a new low in daily stats in the last thirty days. Of course I'm not counting Fridays or weekends since they (you) tend to suck when you are more miserly with the time you spend wasting your time. Quite honestly things had picked up here quite a bit after my huge exposure in Mountain Bike. People were actually clicking on my results with increased frequency no doubt very confused regarding the much grandiose ado about an apparent nothing. So obviously there was definitely some love lost when I selfishly went outta town without specifically saying "THERE WILL BE NO NEW POSTS FOR FOUR DAYS", but I instead I did mention that "I'll be outta town on a non-biking type trip till next week". Maybe I shoulda hit the caps lock key. Dunno.

So I felt like I had cheated some folks, from the faithful few that have been coming here for over three years to the newcomers steered he by the very brief, but highly entertaining article... well snippet anyways, in Mountain Bike. I decided to try to make up for my shortcomings by giving you a decent dose of entertainment, and what do I get? I've never seen "cricket noises" represented by a bar graph in my daily stats before, but thanks to yesterday's lackluster attendance it has now been added as a painful reminder that you are all a fickle bunch of fair weather fans... well maybe not all of you, but enough of you that the folks at statcounter.com decided to poke fun at my weak numbers yesterday with the "Cricket noises" represented not only on a bar graph but also a pie chart which included snores, winces, uncomfortable silence, and awkward moments.

I am seriously considering a boycott. You know those "other blogs" that rarely update, and when they do they give you a photo and perhaps a couple sentences to succinctly summarize the last 72 hours of their existence? Well I am considering the very real possibility of swapping over to that method of posting... y'know the "photo accompanied by a succinct word blast" for an entire week. Let you suffer a little. Is this what you want?

"Life's been good. Lotsa training lately, and I'm very sore. I bought new shoes last week, and I ate some exotic food. Coffee, bike fit, power meters, craft beers.... snore"

Is that what you want?

Go ahead, dare me.

MOOTSpost post

My MOOTSpost is:

a. a fine seatpost that elevates my posterior approximately 28 inches above the center of my bottom bracket

b. overflowing with alien technology proving the existence of intelligent life forms on other planets

c. proof that a benevolent deity has taken an interest in my comfort by blessing the engineers at MOOTS with the mental capacity and copious amounts of creativity required to invent said post using said alien technology

d. a fine piece of functional art formed from the finest titanium in the world

e. nice to curl up in bed with in front of a roaring fire with a glass of chardonnay close at hand

f. available at your local MOOTShop for less than the cost of a Trek Madone, but with far more inherent cool points than a Lance wannabe plastic bike

g. fashionably gray with subdued white logos

h. idiot proof

i. all of the above


If you answered i. all of the above you're either:

a. very smart

b. very lucky

c. very much clued into where this self serving post is going

I don't really care which response you chose to the latter multiple choice as it was:

a. irrelevant

b. erroneous

c. redundant

d. a little bit of all the above... sorta irreloneousdant

I'm getting somewhere, I promise. You may not be along for the ride, but the train is leaving the station...

Remember back when Captain Morgan and I tried to dominate the Double Dare (a two day mountain bike adventure race in Pisgah) on fixed gears? Of course you do. Captain Morgan and I had several mishaps which cost us to miss the cut-off time on day one (just outta first place) by:

a. ten minutes

b. 1/6 of an hour

c. six hundred billion nanoseconds

d. all of the above (not the sum of all of the above, but any of the above since they are all the same thing)


If you guessed any of the above choices congratulate yourself for getting this far into the post.

Anyways, we lost time a million ways to Sunday out there. I had us hike-a-bike up a mountain for no damn reason at all when I made a navigation error. We chose to do a trail after dark that was overgrown, addled with creek crossings, and covered with slippery moss, rocks, downed trees, and roots due to poor route selection. Let's not forget our impromptu grand tour of the Blue Ridge Parkway looking for the entrance to the hike up Mount Pisgah... please don't forget that.

Then there was the self inflicted mechanicals...

I mounted up a brand new Cane Creek Thudbuster seatpost (Oooooohhh, go ahead and click over there as their website is exciting and new... like the love doled out on the "Love Boat") to keep my fixed gear butt from bouncing up and down and smashing my taint into ground beef. Lacking a cool sponsor (like me) who hands out Thudbusters to their very bestest riders (like me), Captain Morgan borrowed a MOOTSpost from future fellow MOOTSman and water bottle scoundrel Will "Proud to Be" Black. The die was cast.

Neither of us familiarized ourselves with our new posts. I had to stop and adjust my saddle tilt early on in the race, and the Captain did likewise. Later, he found himself unsatisfied with his handiwork, so we took some time to analyze the situation.

"Did you get a look at the manual when you installed this thing" I asked.

"Will said any idiot should be able to figure it out, and well... apparently we're not just any idiots" Captain Morgan snarled back in his oh-so pirate like vibratto.

There we were, on the standing still on the nasty hike-a-bike up Pilot Rock dissecting his seatpost like two third graders trying to figure out what makes a frog tick without ever opening a biology textbook.

"Unhhhh", I muttered.

"Dunnnhhh", he replied once again in his pirate voice, but more like a gay pirate with a surprising baritone quality rather than his usual authoritative yet high pitched pirate voice.

At one point we had all the pieces/parts of the post scattered amongst the rocks we were using as a makeshift work bench. We were using tools that should not come near a bike ever, and still we were perplexed with this device that was intended to connect his saddle to his frame. To us it was as if the post were some sort of Cracker Barrel puzzle intended to drive a man to the brink of insanity with its unsolvable solution. It was as if there were some element of mystery we couldn't understand... a DaVinci Code of a seatpost where turning a 5mm bolt actuated a lever which started a limited chemical reaction releasing a pressure valve in order to set a gyroscope into a balancing spin... who the hell knew???

"Why hast Satan brought this post into our lives" Captain Morgan screamed at the sky and to the earless clouds that called it home.

After a pause for dramatic effect things started to sort themselves out despite our futile efforts. Eventually all the parts fell together in an amicable manner, but suffice to say it cost us at least eleven or so valuable minutes (if I had to estimate the time we wasted, which for the purposes of validating our efforts, I did).

Before my MOOTSpost showed up VIA the brown clown I watched the Davinci Code seven times, spent a few hours in the gift shop at a local Cracker Barrel, and I stayed the hell away from any and all pirates and anybody who even sounded like a pirate. When the post arrived at my house I was sure to open up the manual and feverishly examine the contents as if my life depended on my ability to properly install this satanic brainteaser. At once I was ashamed, amazed, embarrassed, and even more suspicious of pirates than I had ever been before. Apparently we were treating something simpler than a common pepper grinder with more angst than it deserved.

It's as easy as this:

1. Remove the four fiddly bits from the post with a 6mm allen wrench. The chainring bolt looking things are made of titanium, while the other two fiddly bits are made out of the same material that the Predator left behind from his weapon after he killed all those drug dealers in Predator II (this is just my best guess, and MOOTS has asked me to quit saying it in public).

2. Place the saddle in the place where you would expect a saddle to go, and re-install the fiddly bits in a tight manner (not tight like "yo, that's tight", but tight like a pair of Jordache jeans).

3. Stick a 5mm allen in the really cool looking hole that goes all the way through the post hardware, loosen the bolt, position the saddle where you want it (not where an angry driver would tell you to place it), and then tighten the bolt.

4. Success!!!!

Photo Cred: Pete-unh

I know it's been awhile since I pulled it out, but I'm gonna have to give my new MOOTSpost the Team Dicky Seal of Semi-Approval.

Why only semi-approval? Since I spent hours loitering in a gift shop at Cracker Barrel in preparation of the imminent arrival and subsequent installation of my brainteaser of a post I ended up buying nine pounds of fudge, a macrame sweater, a potholder embroidered with "SOME LIKE IT HOT", and a set of decorative woven placemats (not meant to be used, but to be hung as folksy art). Since I'm an American I have the inalienable right to blame someone else for my inability to control my incessant need to purchase things I neither need nor can afford. Since Will Black played the part of the scape goat in 2008 and I called Captain Morgan a gay pirate who ruined my shot at Double Dare fame it's only fair that place the lion's share of the blame squarely on MOOTS. Sorry... cookie meet crumble time.

Did we learn anything today kiddies? I hope so. Hopefully you learned that you (and I mean every one of you) all need to get a MOOTSpost ASAP. When placing your order at your LBS please be sure to say "I'm only buying this because I want to be just like Team Dicky when he... I mean I grow up". While you're at it tip your mechanic or else he'll lick your post when it comes in, or maybe he'll even start a teabags on seatposts blog with your new post being the first post in his first post. Bike mechanics are evil people, and you should be wary of them at all times... just like gay pirates.

"Want some MOOTSpost?"

Now we get to the schmeat and potatos of it all

With everything falling into place lately (aside from a computer glitch that has the IRS wanting me to give them $13,000) it's time to get serious... well, as serious as I get. I no longer have to rush home full of anticipation to see if a brown box has arrived from Colorado, Asheville, or the Court of Dingle. The bike is built, the "season" determined (for the most part) and now it's time to do what I do.

What do I do? I wake up at 5:15 to 5:30 in the morning, eat my oatmeal, surf the web, pour a cup of hot non-coffee liquid, blog, and hopefully head out the door with at least an hour to ride before work. This is infinitely more exciting than it sounds....




All right, it is just as boring as it sounds. With no new shiny bits on the way and a humongous amount of time before my next important event I have to dig deep for some intrinsic motivation to log some extra saddle time AND keep up with the blogging. I realize PMBAR is just around the corner, but essentially all I have to do is be faster than my partner Thad. Since he's still running the wheels of a little man I have no need to worry about that. Besides, having a partner that knows very little about the Pisgah National Forest means he'll have no idea just how poorly I'm navigating, and when we get second place he will hardly be able to blame my piss poor map skills. I will simply remind him that when he got his new bike perhaps he should have stepped outta the dark ages and got himself a proper bike.

The following week Thad and I will be back at it, partnering up for the Dirt, Sweat, and Gears 12 Hour Race in Fayetteville, TN. Since I so recently proved that I am the master of riding a bike for six hours the onus of our success once again falls on the narrow shoulders of Thad. As I mentioned before, if for any reason we don't succeed in crushing the Duo Open Pro class the size of his round bits will take the fall, and any lack of fitness on my part can hardly be to blame (see master of riding a bike for six hours).

So, as you can see, I have little extrinsic motivation to ride my bike any more than necessary, yet I know I need to get out and do something. Once my two week mandatory visitation with my bastard son Thad is over I do have some serious business to attend to. No, not leading the Throbbing Members into battle at the Burn 24 Hour Challenge, the Cowbell Challenge will be my first serious task of 2009. I have some revenge to exact after my less than stellar performance in 2008. This is a race that I was accustomed to winning prior to 2008, but I guess even the greatest greats stumble now and then. Winning this race is a matter of high priority, not just because it's my hometown race, but mostly because I like wearing my jangly cowbells around the house.

As far as blogging goes I feel like I might have to start dredging for topics again. Since I don't have Powertap files to post up, interval regimes to impress the masses, or irrelevant cross bike builds to provide me with fodder I may have to make something up. Top nine reasons to Fjear Team Dicky in 2009? More tours around Bad Idea Racing Headquarters? Perhaps a weekly post by my manager/coach/directeur sportif/attorney Mike Piazza regarding the Bad Idea Racing drug testing program (we plan on testing all the good ones this year)? Maybe Pete-unh can start up the trash talk again?

Nah, he's too busy planning a dance party for the DSG race and designing Misfit rave pacifiers. Seriously, how long does it take to draw skulls on 800 pacifiers with a Sharpie?

Are you reading my posts.....

or are you just looking at the pretty pictures?

Man, where's the reading comprehension skills folks? Last Wednesday I posted: "I'll be outta town on a non-biking type trip till next week...", but apparently some folks just aren't paying attention.

Anyways, I'm back. The family and I traveled down to Charleston, SC to live life in the "fat lane" for a few days.

This was a trip with the usual Charleston fare, lighthouses, carriage rides, looking at history and such, and marveling at the work of local artisans.

Charlotte local twenty niner aficionado Jerry "Enoch" Adams apparently has built up quite a following with the people of Chucktown.

The family took a boat ride over to Patriots Point (parking place for the carrier Yorktown), and luckily there was something to do over there for free that held my interest.

I've mentioned it before, I'm a big fan of submarines. I've read a ton of books about them, and I've seen every movie I can think of regarding submarine warfare (even that stank one with Matthew McConaughey). I got to climb around inside the USS Clamagore and see everything up close and personal like... well everything on the main level at least. The very last submarine book I read was about the first submarine that was sunk that actually had survivors escape from the deep. It was freaky to see the actual size of the tiny escape hatch that men would crawl into four at a time with their Steinke hoods (if they had them) so they could slowly go up a rope from 180 feet below the surface.
Scary shit. I'll never put on a lifejacket again.

Is this a bike blog? Sorry, I forgot.

I'm in the process of messing with my MOOTSfit. A layback MOOTS Cinch post went on when I got back from Charleston, and I gave it a whirl on Sunday. It felt great (as I kinda figured it would), and now I'm messing with the stem. I've done this before with my other 29'ers, and after trying a 60mm and a 70mm stem I usually end up going right back to my 50mm Thomson stem. I have to try just so I know for sure... you know??

Tomorrow everything should be back to abnormal around here as I work my way into the three week run up to my (I mean our) next race, PMBAR.

So, about the MOOTS...

The Six Hours of Warrior Creek allowed me to get very familiar with the new Meatplow in a very short amount of time. I had my concerns about how long it would take to get friendly with the way it would ride since it was sort of a blend between a few different bikes I've ridden over the last year.

From a fit standpoint I think I'm still gonna tinker around with a few options. Layback post, 60mm stem, 70mm stem... yeah, I'll probably end up near where I started, but I'll feel better about the decision when I hate the other options after trying them. Comfort-wise I had already decided to swap the 355 front rim to a Flow (which will soon be on the way). I want the increased volume back, and dare I say I think the 355 flexes noticeably more than I want my front wheel to flex? The Niner fork does a great job soaking up the rough terrain, so I think I made a pretty good choice there, besides it looks very moto.

The last three bikes I mounted my Hayes Strokers to had issues with the lever contacting the top tube. I really stared at the drawing for a long time hoping we had solved the problem with the sloped top tube and appropriate length head tube. It all worked out, so I can stop worrying about ruining my levers or my top tube.

Sliders. After all these years of happy EBB use I can say that sliders are pretty sweet too. It mighta taken me five minutes to adjust my EBB (including the time I spent searching for my tools), but I would say it takes seven minutes to adjust the sliders. I haven't actually timed either one of the processes, so these are just guesses as either method is greatly effected by the varied locations of the appropriate toolage. Speaking of toolage...

I've been messing with different tools to spin the 8mm tensioning bolts. The 8/10mm open end wrench on the far right was a ground score at work (two days before I got my MOOTS) which will probably see the 10mm hacked off with the intentions of throwing it in my pack for emergencies. The 8mm box end works well, but has to be re-positioned a lot for true success. The ratchet works, ummmmm... okay, but since there's so little resistance on the bolt you have to hold the socket for true ratchety goodness. I have yet to try either driver, but I like the cute yellow one on the right (actually a 5/16, plus close enough for government work) , since it was also an opportune score, but the big gray one has sentimental value since my dad lifted it from the USAF back in the day. I guess we shall see.

The position of the sliders in the above photo is with a 32X18 gear and a brand new PC-1 chain. The chainstay length works out to be 17.75" with that set up, which happens to be my local gear. There's still 5/16" of forward adjustment, and I'm hoping that's enough room for me to throw on my 19T and maybe even my 20T cog. I haven't had time to mess with it yet, so we shall see.

That was pretty boring, wasn't it?

I did mention that I wanted to talk about the Warrior Creek course. I hate to be too short in my description, but I wanted to mention that I have never ridden any trails anywhere like the ones in N Wilkesboro. They've got almost 40 miles of trail up there, and they're constantly adding more. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, stop going to Tsali all the damn time and come to North Wilkesboro next time. The trails are way more fun, a lot less crowded, the camping is way more available, and (if you live east of Asheville) way more closer than Tsucki. I mean just look at this (some other photos here, including a good looking, but blurry guy in a BKB kit):

photo credit: Kinetic Images

I'll be outta town on a non-biking type trip till next week, so I've got a question for you to mull over and answer.

Should I:

A. Go back to the Shenandoah Mountain 100 for the fourth year in a row? It is the funnest hundie out there, I've had great luck there (1st fixie 2006, 2nd SS 2007, 3rd SS 2008), camping and food are included in the price, all the cool folks are there (Tomi, Elk, Topher, Timmy, Buck, etc), I have travel companions from Charlotte, and it requires no unpaid time off work....

or

B. Take a plane ride to a lengthy car ride to meet up with some fine folks (names and certain information withheld to protect the guilty) and do the Dakota 50 (not to be confused with the Dakota Fanning). I would have to take two unpaid days off, leave the family for a few more days (with SSWC09 right around the corner), and pack/prepare/spend a lot of time in planes, trains and automobiles, but I get to see South Dakota and meet a whole new bunch of freaky folks.

Whaddaya think??

What would Ice do, baby?

photo cred: Faces of Dicky

Late edit: The poll is somewhat lopsided so far, but I left something out. Consider the out of pocket expenses a wash, and the company to be had at the Dakota 50 quite exclusive, no... make that interesting... well, at least very, very interesting.

More Warrior Creek Ruminations

Checking my hair before taking it to the podium...

I've never looked even marginally appropriate on a podium. I've often thought about doing a post on the different images out there on the interweb which show my pathetic podium form, but they all pretty much look like this:

I tend to spend my time up there fidgeting and thinking about getting off as soon as possible. If you stay up there too long someone might try to grab your beer.

"Hands off my bock there tough guy."

Getting down from the podium is just about as humiliating as standing on it. Here I attempt to get down from my high perch without doubling over in pain or falling to my untimely death:

At the 2001 24 Hours of Tahoe I looked annoyed standing in the third position as Rishi Grewal (who gave me the cold shoulder on the course) sprayed me with champagne. When I was handed my plaque for second place at the 2000 24 Hours of Conyers I was too busy staring at my plaque that I assumed would have been accompanied by some schwag or maybe a check (since I paid $250 to enter it). There are a few photos out there from last year's Shenandoah 100 and the Fool's Gold 100 where I am cowering beneath the frenetic fury that is Gunnar standing at the top of his SS world wielding his wizard's staff (he's quite loud for a very, very old man). Maybe this image of me standing on top of the 2006 Cohutta 100 SS podium might be as good as it gets (at least for me):

Blurry and out of focus photos hides my awkward stance and sheepish expressions well.

Back when I won the 2006 24 Hour Solo Single Speed World Championships I ended up blowing the podium off since I had a long drive ahead and a shit ton of things to do around the house when I got back. I'd like to think that I made the right decision, and if history tells us anything it's that I don't look very good when elevated on a platform. Besides, it seemed like the single speedy thing to do at the time.

Here as I stand on the third level of my own personal hell as I express my horror while Dan Jansen carelessly wastes perfectly good alcohol to celebrate his first place overall in the 2006 NUE Series:


We ran outta beer that night, and I will never forgive Dan for the atrocities I witnessed so long ago... I mean seriously, I brought an empty cup to the podium hoping for some sharesies...

Don't get me wrong. Winning is cool and all, but everything that comes afterward is beyond my comprehension. Conan knew what was going on. When asked about the best things in life he said "To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women".

See how happy he is? Living life to it's fullest, and killing just to practice for more killing later.

Here's what happens when the killing time is over:

It's all podiums, alcohol, crowns, orgies, and watching Steve McQueen movies on your plasma screen TV from your throne waiting for death to cure you of your boredom.

More about the NOO MOOTS and the course at Warrior Creek tomorrow.