Since you've been gone...

A lot happens over the course of four days of blog silence. Wednesday night I was doing some really exciting lifestyle stuff (laundry). I was carrying a basket of wet clothes over to the dryer, and on the way into the laundry room I bumped a case of canned cat food (for the current foster kitten) off a shelf where it sat shoulder high off the floor. The case of 24 cans of nibbly bits in gravy came crashing down on toes number two and three of my left foot. Foul language spewed forth from my pumpkin pie hole, and I came hopping back into the living room cursing foster pets, cat food, laundry, and Garth Prosser (I'm always looking for a reason to be angry at Garth). The force of the impact cracked two of the cans open, and two of my toes were throbbing in pain and unable to bend in a happy jointly manner.

I decided to go into the bike room, prop up my foot, and surf the internet until such time that I could determine if I'd actually broke anything. The Pie, being the fine wife that she is, came in with an ice pack, but I couldn't get it to stay on my toes. Luckily I had something within reach on my desk (honestly).

Yes, the Awesome strap can do anything... well just don't click on the link right now though, as the site is currently down for maintenance. I believe the IT department sent it out to be cleaned, and now they can't find their claim ticket... something like that.

Thursday (Thanksgiving) I was going to start up Run Club in earnest just as I did two years ago on Thanksgiving. This time around I was not going to over do it by running 3-5 miles for three days in a row until my knees feel like throbbing watermelons. No, this time I was going to start off smart, and now that things have changed at work I have a way figured out that will keep me from running in below freezing temperatures at 5:30am. Well my do gooder plans were dashed by the evil case of canned cat food, a basket of wet clothes, and Garth Prosser's meddling. Although I'm gonna get a late start I plan on following through with the plan, and I'll go into the details of the plan at a later date.

On Friday the mailman brought happiness in the form of a Priority Mail package and a long awaited magazine that was delayed by its cursed third class mail status.

A box of happy from George "El Diablo" Wisell from Bike29.com.

Yes, there it is in all its 1,440 grams of wonder, the Kodiak 2.5 from WTB/Niner. This tire is made by WTB, but if you want one you have to get it from a Niner dealer, no matter how nefarious or evil bearded he may be. Of course I mounted it up toot sweet WITHOUT TUBES, which gave me a chance to try out the Niner CO2 vs the Big Air competition that I had been planning for quite some time.

More about the performance of the new tire and the inflation test later this week, I promise.

The long awaited piece of third class mail that showed up was issue number 146 of the glamorous (but according to G-Ted, too short) mountain bike magazine, Dirt Rag.

Why was I waiting so impatiently for it to show up this time around? Was there a review of a 26" full suspension bike I was dying to read? Perhaps a two page article on some new Pale Ale Stout IPA Lager snooty boot beer? No, something even better... my first article written by me, about me, and all me (with some absent minded, regrettable mention of Gunnar). Of course I have lots to say about this, but it's gonna have to wait till later in the week.

Saturday I got out for a ride with Tim "Charlotte Single Speed Champ" Kingery, Johnny Nutsack, Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever, and Mike Brown. In almost as many cars as we could possibly drive we met up in the Wilson's Creek area of the Pisgah National Forest for some good times in the mountains. This was my first official ride on my new Kodiak tire, and I must say it was pretty awesome. I did get outta hand at one point and launched off a log without seeing the landing zone clearly. I ended up landing on the edge of a hole (the bad side of the edge) and came crashing down to the earth face first with my shoulder coming in close second, and finally I ended up resting on my back.

Unable or unwilling to wait for the bleeding to stop I finished the day with blood pouring outta my nose.

Of course since this four day recap post is so long there will be a lengthy review of the Kodiak coming later in the week. Rest assured I pushed the tire to its absolute limits showing no regard for my own personal safety in order to give you the most extensive tire review a person could do after only one day to two days of riding.

Could the new tire handle hard packed gravel roads at almost 15mph in a dead straight line?

Hell yeah! It was like make-up sex, high fructose corn syrup, and a high idling V8 engine all in the form of a rubber circle.

Sunday I got out for a local ride straight out the front door of my house. I headed over to the the site of the Outlaw Urban Cyclocross race first. I wanted to try riding the drop and the gap drop on my mountain bike (as opposed to dismounting my fixed gear and hopping down or down and over). Once I convinced myself I could sack up if I had to by hitting each of them once I headed over to the Backyard Trails for some goof-off solo riding. The Backyard is a great place to test tire grip as there's a lot of sluicy turns and rocky technical move stuff. Once again I was pleased with the Kodiak, but I'm saving that stuff for later.

That was my four day weekend in a nutshell. I'll do my best this week to get a little more into the details re: the Kodiak, Dirt Rag, the CO2 playtime, Run Club, and why I've learned to blame everything on Garth Prosser when I get a chance.

All ride photos from the PMBAR Honcho

Not just a penile enlargement ad

First things first...

I have been talking cranks for the past two days. I'd love to drop the topic and move on, but due to my itchy delete finger I can't. Last night I was checking my email, and I found one in my junk mail box that wasn't a penile enlargement ad or a Nigerian prince in trouble. The email was titled "cranks", and the sender's name was Matthew Knudsen, or Mark Knudstrom, or Jason Statham... I don't remember.

I opened it, but being that it was stuck in my spam box there was an additional step in the process in order to fully open it. Instead of clicking see content I accidentally clicked delete. Do you know what happens when you delete something from your junk mail? It goes away forever.

So was this Mark, Matthew, or Jason offering up even more reasons to stay away from ISIS? Did he have a pair of new XTR's laying around that he didn't need? Is he the head of marketing at Shimano, and he wants to sponsor me for life (as long as I throw away my case of SRAM PC-1's)? Was it just a very sneaky ad for penis enlargement or a Nigerian prince who wants my Middleburns in order to flee from his country? I guess I'll never know. Matthew... or Mark, or Jason, if you read this send me another email, and I will gladly accept your advice, cranks, sponsorship, or help you escape Nigeria.

Last weekend the TranSylvania Stage Race had a press camp. I knew about it slightly ahead of time as promoter Mike Kuhn sent me an invite (with about three days advanced notice). This could only mean a few things:

#1 The invite was one of those "I know you probably already have plans, but..." kinda things.

#2 Some legitimate member of the cycling press bailed out at the last minute, and after desperately trying to get Bike Snob or Fatty to attend (and failing) there was now an empty bunk.

#3 Mike Cushionbury was insisting on a snuggle partner.

#4 Selene Yeager wanted someone to keep Mike entertained so she wouldn't be distracted while doing some legitimate media type business.

I'm guessing that the answer was number four as Selene's blog has been updated with a very flattering (but slightly distracted sounding) preview after getting to ride some of the trails that will make up various stages of the race. If you're even slightly aware of your surroundings you've probably noticed that the TranSylvania Stage Race has been the only race on my 2010 "Season" calender for quite some time. I have put it on the high priority list, and it shall remain there unless unforeseen circumstances put it outta my grasps.

Next "Season" is still somewhat up in the air. I definitely have some things I wanna do, but it's coming down to money, real money... amigo money. No dough, no show. Obviously the TranSylvania is high on my priority list. I'm also considering taking another crack at the Breck Epic. Struggling in the thin air having recently just been deemed "barely not anemic" was difficult last July, so I have to admit I'm curious to see how it would feel if I were fully recovered. I don't think I can beat those high elevation living bastages, but I just feel like there might be some unfinished business there... besides, it's riding a bike on singletrack that's above 9,000 feet. It's simply glorious.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Pee Ya has some of the best trails on the East Coast, and the idea of a stage race up that way tickled my fancy back when Mike first told me about it this summer. I can't get the notion of going up there outta my head, so I'm gonna do what I can to be sure I'm on the starting line this May.

So...

I will be dead to the blog world over the holidays, so rake your leaves, clean your gutters, or read a graphic novel instead of checking here for updates. I won't be here, so neither should you.

Why not race your bike here next May?

Maybe Creed was ahead of their time...

I somewhat injured myself over the weekend while doing all the parts swapping between my bikes. While removing a pedal (or was it a crank?) I was leveraging myself in a precarious position with my thumb on one side of the chain stay and my forward momentum on the other. When the stubborn threads released the potential energy I was aiming in a poorly chosen direction I managed to snag my thumb on the stay as the rest of my hand dove freely past it, thus I ended up hyper-extending my thumb... the same thumb that was causing me problems last year. This makes me wonder if I wasn't doing something similar just a year ago, but since I don't blog about every injury I sustain while working on my bike (I do it quite often) I have no written record of such an event taking place.

I was going to stage a dramatic re-enactment of the incident last night while The Pie and Fajita were out and about. With the re-enactment caught on "film" I was then going to post it here so I could save myself from writing the above narrative. Why didn't I get around to it?

I had to head over to me mar's place.

No, I wasn't helping her pick out a new caravan, but it was time for the application of her pain patch which needs to be done every three days. This tiny little piece of plastic coated in some pain relieving drug has to be carefully adhered to her clavicular area. It comes in a tiny pouch that is hard to open, and it's stuck to no fewer than four pieces of plastic that require the manual dexterity of a person who can paint The Last Supper on a pinhead to sort it all out. That was the easy part.

She also let me know her sliding keyboard tray had fallen off her desk. The next hour and a half was spent trying to reassemble something that was never meant to be disassembled.

"No disassemble!"

Anyways I had to take the tray home and get out some real tools. I spent a decent amount of time chasing twelve ball bearings all over my hardwood floor (that eventually ended up being only six ball bearings), and bending and re-bending things that were riveted together in a manner that was intended to discourage any disassembly. Eventually I got it all (well most of it) back together and headed back to her place with a slightly less than perfect sliding tray.

So I when I got home I skipped the video and drank a beer instead. My apologies... you gotta have priorities.

To all you ISIS haters from yesterday:

I knew about the downsides of ISIS back in 2006 when I bought my Middleburn crank. I really wanted the Middleburn, but I didn't want a square taper crank as I was going with a Bushnell EBB on my new frame which requires occasional maintenance (disassemblage and grease), and since the crank has to come off to do that I was afraid of wearing out the taper (like what happened to me in the nineties with almost every square taper I had). Crank Brothers assured me their bottom bracket was "different" when I called them on the phone, and that they had thought theirs out, and it should last a long time. Well I guess it's the thought that counts.

Yes, now I have a standard BB shell and sliders, so a square taper woulda been nice at this point... had I never experienced how good a truly stiff crank feels.

I know XTR is sublime, and I think it's bearing preload is the best one of the bunch. Unfortunately they're like $400 on eBay, and you still have to buy at least one annoying proprietary tool that costs way too much for a hunk of steel. So for now it's Race Face, and we'll see what I can do for 2010.

God, writing about bottom brackets and cranks makes for some dull reading. I need to call George as he always makes talking about the finer points of ceramic VS steel bearings a little more pleasant (even if it annoys his better half to be in the same room hearing to idiots wax philisophic about bike parts).

Is Liz Hatch's dad....

photo cred: cyclingnews.com

really...

You tell me.

Cranksgiving (now with more stuffing)

I woke up late (for me) on Saturday and went about my business as usual... coffee, oatmeal, internet, enjoying the last few moments of peace before the family awakes. I needed to be ready to ride by 9:30, and I hadn't touched my bike since the Hush Hush ride (who would've wanted to?). I was counting on a quick wipe down and re-lubing of the chain, and I would be good to go bust out a lap at Sherman with Big Worm, Eric Van Driver, and camera man Stabby. I pulled the bike down, dropped it on it's rear wheel, and tried to roll it backwards so I could flip it upside down for lubage purposes. As the bike resisted my efforts and the rear wheel dragged on the hardwoods I realized something was amiss.

Something was locked up for sure. That meant a contaminated hub (not likely as I rebuilt it weeks ago), an over the top nasty chain (still not likely), or a bottom bracket that shoulda been replaced over two months ago finally gave up the ghost. Of course it was the bottom bracket as it had already shown signs of its demise awhile back. After a rainy ride in Durango it first started showing symptoms, and after a couple wet Pisgah rides back in October I had taken it out and repacked the reluctant non-drive side bearings (not recommended but I was looking to stretch out its lifespan). My painstaking efforts had only earned me another month of riding as the bottom bracket was siezed completely now. Since I had no time to properly address my issue I just turned the cranks with brute force until they freed up and spun them around to break up the rust and debris within.

That makes four ISIS bottom bracket down the tubes since January 2007.

The first Crank Brothers was warrantied since it didn't last very long at all (Jan 07-May07). The warranty replacement was pulled out prematurely as a victim of upgraditis when I bought the ceramic hybrid/ti spindle beauty on the right. Months went by and one La Ruta de los Conquistadores worth of salt water and pressure washers later the fancy BB died a horrible death. Ahhhh, then throw in a few months(Jan 08 to Mar 08 and Oct08 to May 09) of riding the yet to be named Zion (with external bearing Race Face cranks) which bought the warrantied Crank Brothers some time before it received its death sentence at the Dirt, Sweat, and Gears mudfest of 2009. I replaced it with another Crank Brothers which got me all the way to now (or a month ago when it shoulda been replaced in the first place). So that last one was good for all of maybe four months... meh. Quickly doing the math that means four ISIS BB's wasted in less than two years of actual riding time... more meh.

Last night I had work to do.

Stabby has always proved to me that the best thing about having more than one bike is the ability to steal parts from one to keep another going. Robbing the yet to be named Zion to pay the Meatplow as it were. I needed to get the fancy race wheels off the Meatplow anyways, so it was a good time to flip them both upside down and go to town.

New XT pedals procurred at the swap meet to save the Shimano pirate versions (XT Arrrrrrhhh) for next year. Bash guard? I didn't have any more proper length chainring bolts, so what's a boy to do? Black Flow rim equipped wheels mounted up with a much-better-than-a-worn-out-Crossmark Ignitor and a waiting-for-a-Kodiak (or a Dissent) to-replace-it Rampage up front. I went ahead and jammed the sliders as far forward as they can go to try to see if I can tell a difference between the l-o-n-g and short set up. Me thinks folks on MTBR will be dying to know which is better.

and because I can't stand seeing a dilapidated bike hanging on the wall....

I threw the Pheonix polished cranks on the yet to be named Zion to ensure that if for any reason I pull the Meatplow off the wall and something ain't working I at least have another last minute option.

Next year as racing "season" approaches I'll have to resolve the crank/BB issue. The taper on the Middleburns is wearing out, and I have to loctite the bolts to keep them tight (I assume the taper is the issue). I love the stiffness of the external bearing set up (just riding them in front of my house I was reminded how great they are), but I hate the resistance of the system... thus my resistance to the system. For now I could give a rat's ass, and I'm just happy to have a bike to ride that I really, really like.

BTW: Why am I keeping three absolutely wasted ISIS bottom brackets? I have no idea.

The Asheville fire fighter who tried to kill a cyclist WITH A GUN in front of his child got four months in prison. I feel much safer now... well, at least for the next four months. Read about it here.

Hey Dickhead!

It's that time of year. Beer with supper, beer after supper, followed by more beer. The dark skies and chilly air coming in through every crack in the house seem to be some sort of catalyst driving me to the fridge. My lackluster income and my current taste in beer are of an inverse proportion to my previous earnings and the standards I used to accept as acceptable. A decade ago my Cool 'n Fresh bin woulda been filled with Yuengling Light, but as Big Worm (rookie Charlotte messenger) says you can't unlearn once you've had the diggities. I concur. Can you say "Beer sponsor"? Theres something that could save me some money, especially in the "off season". I need a beer sponsor with a beer budget and performance based beer incentives

I wonder how Jake Kirkpatrick (former jolly elf turned skinny racer boy) keeps his girlish figure, what with his constant access to Fat Tire Ale and all the other New Belgium tasties.

#1 Bastard.

Last night I was listening to Jimmy Buffet in the shower. Wait... that didn't come out right. I was not lurking around outside Jimmy Buffet's window last night listening to him in the shower. What I meant was that I was in the shower and Jimmy Buffet was turned on... wait, that still sounds wrong. I was listening to the CD player since the radio reception was shit, and the only CD's in the bathroom were Jimmy Buffet or Magic Tree House . Since I was naked and too lazy to wrap a towel around me I decided to just listen to Mr Buffet while cleaning the day's nasty off of me. It got me to thinking....

Jimmy so moved the masses with his simple tunes that he has a cult following known as Parrotheads. Then I was thinking about the Grateful Dead and their followers known as the Dead Heads, and I realized I need a cult following if I ever wanna make it big time... then it came to me.

The Dick Heads.

Who wants in? I google searched some really sweet images looking for t-shirt ideas, but as you can imagine they were not very SFW, so I didn't bother posting them here. The best idea I had that didn't have an image of a penis on it would simply be:

Yes, I'm a Dick Head.
What's your excuse?

Of course Jimmy and Jimmy didn't go out and form the fan clubs, the fans did it themselves. So go ahead and get the t-shirts made, and I won't tell anybody it was my idea. Just cut me in on the proceeds, and everything will be copacetic.

BTW: Today's post was inspired by...

my phone.

Wet shit/Dry shit

My new messenger bag will be on its way from Hungary, Budapest today. Although I woulda hoped that my last bag woulda been my last bag EVER I felt like it was time to let it go.

The Team Dicky edition bag has worn out to the point where I feel it's time is over. Sadly it will soon join a few others that I've held onto from the past to use for road trips and brocerie runs. Holes in the top of the flap have rendered the bag sieve-like on rainy days, and I just have a hard time handing people wet packages.

I have thrown a lot of bags over my shoulder since I ran my first job back in1996, but they all had to go for one reason or another. My first bag was an all black Timbuk2. My employer at the time (City Bike) required that we leave our bags at the office every evening after our shifts and pick them up the next morning, so obviously when I left that job I left that bag behind. My next bag was another employer supplied Timbuk2 that I quickly outgrew. I was carrying too much bulky shit around that wouldn't fit in the bag, so I ordered a bigger one. Enter the Timbuk2 Tag Junkie.

The Tag Junkie was a great, simple bag. After a few years it was showing the signs of use, and I had to take a needle and thread to it quite often. When I asked Timbuk2 how they felt about replacing the bag with their lifetime warranty they asked me if I felt I had got a decent lifetime's use out of the bag... in other words, "NO free bag for you". I asked if I could get a new Tag Junkie at a discount, but they let me know they stopped making the Tag Junkie since it was only something like 1% of their sales, and the only people buying them were messengers. Really. So I bought the next size down they offered at a discount, hated it, sold it, and used the money to buy a Chrome Kremlin.

The Chrome was HUGE, and had some great features. The inner liner was not sewn in with the outer layers of the bag, so water had a hard time getting into it. Unfortunately the bag had a coupla big downsides. It covered my entire back, and in the summer I ended up getting a sweet case of bacne (back acne). Also when the bag was fully loaded the phone holder ended up on the back of my left shoulder which made answering the phone kinda difficult. I used the Chrome until the liner started to fall apart and then upgraded to a PAC Designs.

I spent a shitload of money on the PAC, something like $250. It was the best designed bag I had ever seen, but all three layers (thick outer cordura, truck tarp liner, and inner cordura) were sewn together which pulled water into the bag via the shared seam. I ripped the inner layer out of the bag which reduced the bags capillary action, but increased the rate of wear and tear on the tarp liner. The PAC Designs bag lasted the longest yet, but once I got frustrated with wet packages I let it go, and bought my first Bagaboo.

I loved my Bagaboo for a whole bunch of reasons, but mostly because the guy behind the bags (Tamas) doesn't mind adding little custom touches. The Team Dicky Edition bag only lasted two years though, as the outer layer of cordura wore through (which is a first on any bag I owned). I contacted Tamas to give him some feedback on the bag, and he informed me that he had upgraded the outer layer to a "better, tougher Cordura". Since I was kind enough to send him feedback instead of anger and demands he offered me a discount on a new bag.

I took him up on it. Even though things at work currently suck, and my job is probably teetering on the brink as much as anybody's I decided it was worth the investment. I added a few new features to the bag, and got rid of the ones I found superfluous on my old one. The vanity plate flap is gone. I just couldn't justify the expense this go around, and I have to admit I'm kinda sick of myself being that I'm everywhere I look now. Instead I got some blinkie mounts where they make sense and an entirely incognito black color scheme so I can blend in at hipster conventions.

Gone are the long straps to keep the bag closed when loaded. They hardly got used, and they just kept snagging on hooked door handles causing an occasional clumsy exit from time to time. I've got a short piece of webbing that hooks onto any of the four D-rings to keep it closed if I need it. Once again I left off the main flap closure velcro as it stops working after the first year of real messenger use on any bag.

Last but not least.... an exterior water bottle holder since the Fastest Bike in the World has zero water bottle mounts.

I have to admit that in almost the same amount of time I've been working uptown Big Worm has had only two bags (that I remember). While our time in the bush only differs by a year or so, and he's brilliantly figured out a way to make full time pay with part time work for the last mess of years he's soldiered on with that same bag for over a decade. It looks more like a worn out blue potato sack with a piece of webbing stitched to it, but it is the oldest bag in the Queen City that has seen daily use. I asked him the other day how he keeps his shit dry, and he said "I don't". Dumbfounded by his smart reply I probably changed the topic of conversation to the war in Afghanistan or something less controversial. I must say I envy his conviction, but definitely not his wet shit.

Cross, animation, caps, and ice boobs

There was another Outlaw Urban Cyclocross race last weekend. My back and legs were kinda wasted from my lame effort at the Hush Hush Ride, so I didn't bother racing. I did ride over to watch and try out the new course, and I was not disappointed. Although the cops showed up and delayed the start by asking everybody to leave the private property we were using in a public manner the racers all returned thirty minutes after the official shoo'ing mandated by "the man".

One may wonder just how the series came to fruition. Luckily Kevin Thompson did some sleuthing and found some spy footage (or perhaps a dramatic recreation) documenting the birth of the series.


The course had a few decent steeps on it that forced me to nut up and eventually try them when no one was around. Eventually I got comfortable on the drop-ins, so maybe I'll be up for some more racing in a couple weeks. Yes, I have a strong desire for a real cross bike (maybe even with a brake or two)...

photo cred: Big Worm

In the money well spent arena...

My Walz cap is turning two years old this month.

No hat of mine has lasted this long and spent as much time in the rotation as my wool Walz cap. The only other hat that sees even close to the same amount of time on my head is my Twin Six cotton cap (made by who?... Walz) as it is a better choice for casual summer wear. My wool Walz has been shoved under a helmet and abraded by the on again/off again helmet action that is common place when you have to protect your head while making a living but not while sitting in a lobby waiting for a package. It's just absolutely, hands down one of the best things I've thrown money at in the last decade.

I'll admit that $25 seems like a lot to throw at a hat. All my other cycling hats were either free, bargain bin purchases, or too cool to pass up for full retail ($6). Then again, all my other cycling hats are lying in a pile on a shelf with broken brims, holes worn in them, or splitting at the seams. Even though the wool Walz has an almost absolute go-to status during the colder/wetter months it has held up with flying colors, but despite all these positive traits it is still only worthy of my....

Seal of Semi-Approval

Why only Semi-Approval? Being a wool hat I have to wash it separately (by hand) instead of just tossing it into the machine. Being a very lazy messenger who hates the "Life, death, and in between... maintenance" mentality I probably don't wash it as often as I should. My hat currently smells a bit like a bum, but when doused by rain it goes to "full bum" status. When I do get around to washing it the water turns a brown color that is just two shades under a proper glass of chocolate milk. I guess this is no fault on the part of Walz, but being that I am an American I have to blame someone else for my problems (or go to war with them), so who else do I have to blame? Well, there's always Al Qaeda...

Wanna make someone happy this Christmas? Don't drop the Christmas ball and buy them an erotic ice tray this year (but if you've already bought one please contact me for a shipping address as my ice maker is broken). Instead give them the gift that keeps giving warmth, happiness, and good looks. Buy a Walz cap and support the American Made Cap Industry Association of America.

Disclaimer: Walz does not endorse the endorsements of Bad Idea Racing's endorsements, but they did give me free shipping. Doh, everybody gets that.

One night in Bangkok

My friend Mike Stanley passed by my house the other day. I knew him back when he was just the guy running the Wake and Bake Racing Team, but now he's up to his neck in the bike industry rep'ing for Niner. He was passing through my town, and I insisted he stop by for some grubbery and an old fashion BS session. As intrigued as I am by bicycles in general I also find the bicycle industry rather fascinating, and I had yet to have a long conversation with him since he started his new job on the "inside".

He had a few demo bikes on the back of his truck, and lurking inside was the not to be ridden or touched for more than five seconds at a time carbon Niner. Attached to the front of said carbon Niner was the carbon fork I've been staring at all year.

I'm not sure that this fork is in my future anymore since I've vowed to keep my bike purchases a little more based on need as opposed to want. Even though Pete-unh spews forth some hate on this fork I think it's just so he can keep his status as a curmudgeonly Canadian.

The bike had the new Thomson seatpost clamp (another want over need type purchase I planned), and I tried to snap a photo of it, but I suck, and my photoshop abilities are even worse, so here's what you get:

Speaking of clamps, one of the demo bikes had a pink Salsa clamp on it, and being logically attracted to pink parts I asked Mike about it. "Wanna trade?" he asked.

Sure.

I was also stoked to see that there was a fine Cane Creek headset installed up front. Amazing how many standards there are in the headset world nowadays. Don't know what you need for your new bike? Use the Cane Creek Headset Fit Finder to figure it out.

Is there anything to this tapered madness?

I remember when 1 1/8 headsets came out prepared to take over the world, and I thought threadless was a scary concept. Now there's just enough headset options that "What headset do I need for my 29'er?" is a weekly topic of discussion on the MTBR 29'er forum.

Back at Interbike Niner only had a mock up of their head badge on the new carbon frame. I have now seen the final version, and all I can say is "Seriously?".

At least make the cast bottle opener headbadge an option for the single speed folk. What single speeder worth his salt buys a frame without a bottle opener snuck into the design in some cunning manner?

After I poked and prodded the frame completely Mike and I went to lunch. One might wonder what a Ti guy like me would be doing poking around at some frame from a manufacturer other than one from my frame sponsor. One might start thinking up some conspiracy theory... maybe Niner is trying to nab me away in some extended multi year contract like Specialized did with Contador. Am I swapping teams? Giving up the magic metal? Leaving the people of MOOTS high and dry with no star athlete for 2010? No, I'm just a bike geek and I like to look at bikes. Nothing more than that. Our play date was just a play date, and lunch was just lunch.

I like Mike, and I love hearing stories from the bike industry side of things (even when they are told by grumpy Canadianicans). I've always been fascinated by "the industry", and one day I hope to retire to a job somewhere inside it's warm belly... like maybe head floor sweeper at Industry Nine , or coffee maker at Cane Creek, or perhaps seatpost shaft polisher at MOOTS?? The bike world is my oyster, and even though I don't like oysters I feel comforted by the fact that the bike world is a slimy creature hidden within a hard to penetrate shell that offers very little reward for a lot of effort and will more than likely leave me with a bad taste in my mouth.

"Aye, this is my oyster."

Hush Hush or Bust

"I'll take Bust for $1,000 Alex."

I showed up at the designated rendezvous point in the Pisgah National Forest Friday night. I was one of the late arrivals as most of the locals had already established their camps and were relaxing around the campfire. I picked up a cue sheet for the ride and then got to work readying my tent so I could hopefully be in bed by 10:00pm. After getting my shit straight I found myself in wrapped up in conversation with a few others trying to gauge the difficulty of the ride.

The route was chosen by Clay Faine and was going to take us over some of the best trails in Pisgah with a total distance of 99.9 miles and around 29,000 feet of climbing. That is not a typo... around 29,000 feet of climbing. Estimated saddle time was anywhere around 15 to 24 hours according to the fireside pundits. I was the idiot who thought 15 hours was shooting on the high side. I was basing my opinion on all my experiences at this now familiar distance and the 2008 PMBAR where Elk and I covered 100+ miles in a little over 12 hours (but on a much easier, more gravely route). Yes, I was an idiot.

I set my alarm for 4:00am as most of the riders were supposed to start at 5:00am. When I woke up and heard murmurs around my tent I was quite shocked to find out that I had slept through my alarm, and it was now 4:59am (seriously, one minute before I was supposed to head out). I went into scramble mode, and there was a flurry of action inside my diminutive two man tent. Chilled by the morning air I panicked and stuck a bunch of warm clothing in my Ergon pack thinking the temps could drop even more when the second darkness of night came some twelve hours later. I decided that my breakfast would be consumed on the first gravel climb of the day, and I almost forgot to grab my gels during my hasty exit. Luckily when I went back to my tent for my gels I found them nestled next to my That Butt Stuff chamois cream reminding me to lube up my rear end before heading out. I threw on my overloaded pack (25lbs+) and left the campsite at 5:29 behind just about everybody else.

From this point I may refer to "catching riders" or "passing riders", but please understand this was not a race. It was just a bunch of idiot friends going out for a ridiculously long ride at their own pace on the same day. There was no competition going on, and I am just mentioning them as impersonal reference points.

I finished up my organic toaster pastry as the climb started to punch up into the darkness on Clawhammer. I looked for lights ahead of me and above in the surrounding mountains, but I saw nothing. As best as I could I reminded myself that this was an all day ride, but I couldn't help but feel a bit hurried as I climbed up to the gap. Towards the end of the gravel climb I caught up to Sissy (or maybe Emily, I'm still getting my facts straight), and after a short "hello" we parted ways. I was really hoping that I coulda started my day with some others just to enjoy some camaraderie, but it looked like I was gonna be alone for most of the day. I was wrong.

On the hella hike-a-bike over Black Mountain I caught up to Nick the Stick, an anonymous (in the dark) rider, and Mike Brown, but shortly thereafter we drifted apart and their lights slowly disappeared behind me. I passed Clay Faine who had the contents of his pack spread out on a rock apparently having an impromptu yard sale. I purchased nothing from Clay's Pisgah Flea Market, and when I got to the top of Black Mountain I saw one of the most absolutely stunning sunrises I've ever seen (honestly), and I began my descent down to the Turkey Pen intersection happy and slightly warmer. When I got there Brad Kee (Double Dare, PMBAR, and The Most Horrible Thing Ever winner) and Matt Fusco (Brad's partner from said Double Dare) were standing around, so when they headed out I followed their lead down Turkey Pen.

Turkey Pen is an exciting descent (with a bit of up) on any regular given day. Cover it with leaves and ride it with a Crossmark that I mounted back in April and things can get dicey. This...

should look like this...

I slid down the trail more than I woulda thought possible and looped the back end around the front more than once. I tried to stay with Brad Kee and Matt Fusco, but their skills and suspended parts kept me at a distance on the downhills. I would re-establish contact on the intermingled climbs only to lose them again as soon as the trail went down.

When we popped out into the parking lot and headed towards South Mills I found myself riding with and around Brad and Dave "Beefcake" Cook. Honestly, this was not the company I was looking to keep. I've already mentioned Brad's palmares, and Beefcake was the only other person to survive the first very wet edition of The Most Horrible Thing Ever. I was riding with two not so little engines that most definitely could. There was no doubt that they were in for the long haul, but I was hoping to be in a little less aggressive company.

We went back and forth with each other until Squirrel Gap, and it was there that I lost them for awhile. This normally technical treat was testing my ability to stay upright, and I ended up smashing my goodies on a not so graceful dismount. I usually enjoy Squirrel, but I was happy to see it over with as I hit the gradual climb up South Mills River Trail headed to Pink Beds.

I finally felt alive again, and passed Brad and Beefcake. I caught up to SSlohio Rob who had gotten an earlier start, chatted him up, and then left him behind as I was "enjoying" my chosen gear for the day. Once I got to Pink Beds I kept the pace lively, and for the first time I checked the mileage on the cue sheet and checked my watch to gauge my progress.

Shit.

By the time I got to Pink Beds I had only gone 27 or so miles in five and a half hours. I extrapolated that out and realized that at this pace I was looking at a 20+ hour day. I was not prepared for that in many ways... mental stamina, fitness, lights, and nutrition (in my rush I had forgotten my emergency dollar bills for the vending machines at the hatchery). I thought I could handle a fifteen hour day in the saddle, but twenty hours or more would definitely be way more than I had bargained for when I decided to do this ride.

I signed the check-in slip at the Pink Beds trailhead and saw that Zach BrouSSard had already been there. He had planned on a 2:00am start or something like that, so I expected him to be out there somewhere ahead of me, but I didn't think I'd be the next one through (edit: he started at 4:00am and made it much further than I did). I sat down, ate a PB&J, and assessed my situation. If I were to continue at this pace I would be out for over twenty hours. Even if I had the desire to hold out that long I'd be up against the limits of my lights and food. If I continued on the chosen route I'd be 40+ miles in at the next bailout point and still hours away from my car.

Meh.

I decided to climb the two and a half miles up to the Parkway and make the call when I got there. As I climbed I was putting more distance between me and the car, but I felt like I wanted to see the Parkway whether I was going to continue or not. Once I got there I sat down, broke out some warm clothes, and quit 30.61 miles in. I waited for Beefcake and Brad to show up so I could distribute my remaining PB&J's to the more worthy riders. They accepted my offer, and I turned around and went back down the road. I saw SSlohio coming up and stopped to talk to him. He said he was going to bail, but much later on in the ride, so I gave him my last PB&J before heading back.

I ran into Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever, Mike Brown, Clay Faine, and Sissy in the Pink Beds parking lot. Clay said he was stilling planning to go the whole distance, but the rest of the group was planning an early exodus. They tried to convince me to climb back up to the Parkway and at least go down Big Creek, but that would put me even further away from happiness (my car). I told them I was going home and spending the rest of the day with my family, and so I bid them adieu and rode back down 276 with my head hung low.

Am I disappointed? Dunno. Had I known that the route was gonna take that long I doubt I woulda even showed up. This is the time of year for short rides full of fun, not long rides full of despair. Except for my experiences at La Ruta I've never fared very well pushing my limits this late in the year, and I don't plan on extending my fitness much past the time when leaves fall outta the trees. I had a pretty cool experience, for what it's worth, and I think I learned a little (very little) about myself.

According to Facebook sources Brad Kee was the only finisher in a time of @ 22 hours. Way to go Brad, and I officially have NO regrets now. That's just nuts.

BTW: Congrats to Manny Prado and LaRuta Louise Kobin for winning that little race that ended over the weekend.

So long, farewell, a Billy Zane goodbye

to you, and you, and you, and you, and you.

I'm all ready to leave tonight after dinner tonight. The die has been cast, and the fjork has been cast away.

The Fox's time was up, and it's time to get nitty gritty once more before 2009 leaves with a whimper. Too bad the Kodiak didn't get here on time, but I think it's being polished up north before delivery to ensure absolute shininess before I get around to photographing it in my poorly lit bike room. This will be the longest amount of time I'll spend in the saddle in one go for 2009, and I am in the worst shape I've been in since February or March. By that I mean I haven't ridden an extra mile on the way to work since mid September, and I'm already @ 4-5lbs heavier than I was when I was "in shape". I get winded using the ice cream scoop to dislodge frozen cookie dough from the container (I'm just saving electricity and cutting out the middle man).

What strikes me as odd is that when Dave "Beefcake" Cook suggested a similar ride (to the Hush Hush) years ago I thought he was nuts. I said, "No one's gonna wanna do that, especially me." Now here I am doing something I said I would never do for the umpteenth time in my life wondering if it's gonna be as bad as it is in my head (things are pretty bad up there).

Sorry for the secrecy re: The Hush Hush Ride, but I've been sworn to keep the details to myself till after the event is over. Hell, I called it the Hush Hush Ride because as a non-event it doesn't really have a name that I can refer to when I discuss it in the most veiled manner possible. I may even have to change some of the names of the non-participants of the non-event when I tell the story on Monday to protect the innocent. As a matter of fact I've probably irritated some of the other Riders of the Hush just by mentioning the Hush Hush, but whatever. I mean, you invited me of all people and asked me or all people to not say anything? I talk about a saddle sore for two days straight, so I can hardly ignore blog fodder of this magnitude.

All questions will be answered on Monday... well except for the ones I can't answer, but I'll make something up entertaining for those.

Most popular exit link from yesterday's post: Ruta wet t-shirt contest. Sorry guys.

Still here (and not quite there)...

Man, oh man. That's what it's like having a day off in the middle of the week. Did you know that Costco sells Fat Tire Ale and Sierra Nevada? I didn't. Did you know that you can save water and wash your car in the rain? Oh, you did? ... whatever.

So a Wednesday behind me without so much as a peek at the internet from 8-5. I used my time wisely kicking around with the children and having lunch with an old friend (not that we've been friends for a long time, he's just old). I also did a little more preparational type stuff for the big Hush Hush ride this weekend. I laid out some clothes, mounted up my fender (I think the tropical storm might leave the trails a bit moist), and sorted out some nutritional stuff.

I found some Heed I had bought back in the spring of 2007 that was dated 05/09, but how can this stuff go bad? It's got ingredients that sound more like super heroes than actual food stuff, like Xylitol and White Stevia. In order to kill two birds with one stone (get rid of it and get more calories in each bottle) I decided to double up on the amount of powder in each bottle. I dare not taste it before Saturday on the off chance that I end up hating it. Better to find that out at 5:30am when I still have 90+ miles to go.


Once I was able to get on the internet yesterday evening I checked out the happenings around the world... well at least the bike world. La Ruta has started and Colt from Cyclingdirt.com is down there with his digital video capturing device. I bet you have a hard time getting enough Jeremiah Bisquick in your life just like me, so do yourself a favor and watch him in the pre-race breakfast video, the middle of a gravel climb video, the post stage one video, or the blowing up the porta pottie after breakfast video. If you're not like me, and you've seen more than you can stomach of Mr Bisquick this year be sure to check out all the other videos Colt has put up on the site. There's plenty of stuff that will interest even the JB haters, so don't let his studly mug and perfectly coiffed hair keep you from checking it out. So much to see with just a little mouse clicking... like a little controversy, some helmet cam footage, and even a Ruta wet t-shirt contest. Good times, good times... I almost wanna go back...

I'll find something else to do this winter like this, this, this, or this.

Forty six hours till the Hush Hush goes mush.

Currently 48 degrees, but that's gonna sky rocket to 49 later. Twenty to thirty mile an hour winds with rain... How many times will I hear "I'd hate to have your job today?"

One more prep session for 2009

Like a junior high kid who can't wait till the first day of school to wear his new Pony's I went ahead and donned my swap meet obtained Pearlizumi X-Alp's (even though the weather was hardly chilly enough to warrant the eschewing of my familiar sandals). Just as the junior high kid has his reasons ("...but Mom, I need to break them in.") I had my similar reasons to break out the fancy footwear a bit early.

I wanted to see if the X-Alp's should be the shoe of choice for the big Hush-Hush ride this weekend. I have a feeling I'm gonna be spending a fair amount of time walking around in the woods, so why not wear some comfort oriented cycling shoes if I got 'em? While the upside would be having comfortable feet the downside would be exposing my shoes to a month's worth of wear (under standard operating conditions) thus reducing their useful lifespan. I'll have to ruminate on that one.

I'm talking a lot about a ride I can't talk much about... thus the reason I'm calling it the Hush Hush ride. I've been sworn to a certain level of obscurity, but some aspects are totally open for discussion. I've already started packing up my shit.

The timing is very odd... well at least coincidentally odd. Just last year at this time I was packing my BD-2 for a ride that actually inspired me to bother the U.S. Ergon handler to obtain said BD-2. For those of you not acquainted with my history I tried to ride my road bike 225 miles to the beach on Thanksgiving loaded down with everything I would need. I started out at 4:00am in freezing temps, my front shifter froze leaving me in the big ring through the Uwharrie Mountains (destroying my knee), and I ended up lost in a little town that unfortunately sold no maps of said town forcing me to call up headquarters for an extraction. How odd that one year later I am grabbing my light (with two batteries) and trying to figure out how many PB&J's I'm gonna need for another full (at least intended to be full) day in the saddle.

I'm stoked about this ride. It is an unprecedented event (in its own way), and it will be unlike anything I've ever done before (in its own way). I'll be up at 4:00am and on the bike at 5:00am with the possibility of needing my light to finish the ride. The BD-2's carrying capacity will be put to good use since I'll be carrying all kinds of spare shit. Some Swiftwick wool socks, a spare pair of gloves, most of the standard PMBAR gear, all the little "Oh shit" stuff (brake pads, chain links, zip ties, duct tape, back up light, extra chamois cream, tire boot, water purification tablets... you name it), and if I can fit it in, a beer.

I won't be blah-ging tomorrow since I've been given the day off. No sense in waking up early just to be up early for the sake of being up early. Tomorrow is one of those pseudo holidays (no disrespect to veterans) when most businesses are closed (banks, courts, post office, etc), but not everything is closed. There will only be enough work for one messenger, and my boss decided to take it, leaving me in dry dock. I'd love to be thrilled about having a day off, but with Ida coming it's not like I can knock out some yard work or spend time with the kids OUTSIDE (where kids belong). Ida should be dropping by later this afternoon dumping inches of rain on my head as I try to finish out my day, but at least I can test out my swap meet acquired Gore Tex Pac Lite coat.

Inches of rain and flooding.... wonder if The Pie will mind if I take the kids for a walk tomorrow to watch the greenways flood?

A weekend not wasted

On Saturday I hopped on my bike, rode for a less than excruciating twelve minutes, and arrived at the cyclocross race in Veterans Park without even breaking a sweat. The first order of business was to search for my people (they're not quite hip enough to be peeps).

Hank the junior phenom, Jon Benoit, and Will "I can pull a wheel outta my ass" Bolt discuss the finer points of owning a boutique, appointment-only bike shop.

I got there to the venue in time to bust out one lap on my not ready for prime time fixed/brakeless cross bike. The course was a blast (the best cross course I've seen, and I've seen like five of them now), and I even had trouble negotiating on downhill off camber turn to the point that I popped out of it and shot under the course tape due to poor fixie skills.

The first race of the day was the Masters Class, and I got to see my boy Captain Morgan whoop up on his fellow old men.

He crushed the competition even though he only had just a little Captain in him.

Captain Morgan is one of those guys I just hate. He's good at endurance races and the short shit I totally suck at (but still enjoy).

Captain Morgan won the LSD prime, but did not realize that he had to wait till after the race to collect.

I got to stick around for one more race, the CX3's and the women.... ahhhh, the women.

Here Beth Frye is launching off the front in an attempt (a successful one at that) to catch and destroy most of the male CX3's that started ahead of her. She is such a little monster, and like Captain Morgan she stomps at endurance races too, and also like Captain Morgan, I hate her.

I don't understand my attraction to cross. I really suck at it... I mean reeeeaaaaallly suck at it, but I still think it's awesome. It's like an adult version of tag with strange boundaries played out on bikes. Ask me to ride hilly nilly around some urban park on a Saturday and I'd scoff at the suggestion, but set up some course tape and say go and all the sudden it's a great idea.

I want a cross bike, specifically I want a MOOTS Psychlo X, but with horizontal drops because I'm all hard core like that. I would never be able to do a bunch of cross races though, as this time of year I am making up for all the traveling I did over the summer and spending time close to home. For example fifteen minutes before the SS Class started I left and headed home to get in the car, pick up my mom, and head to an adoption expo to watch The Pie spread knowledge on those who would seek it. Obviously being there to support her while she does some good in the world and makes a difference in people's lives has to be a priority... at least in the off season.

I consoled myself Saturday night with a loaf of Trader Joe's Beer Bread made with a .67¢ can of Simple Times Lager (tastes like shit, but makes a decent loaf of bread).

Sunday I headed to the Lowe's Motor Speedway for The Big Stampede swap meet. It's getting harder and harder to find shit that I need there, but I think that has more to do with the fact that I have fewer needs rather than a diminishing selection. I didn't find the $700 cross/road bike of my dreams or the elusive cheap mountain tandem I've been looking for over the past decade. I did find these:

They were EXACTLY what I was looking for. I almost paid retail for these things at REI a month or so ago, but I decided to hold out for the swap meet. There was ONE PAIR in MY SIZE... fate, kismet, whatever you wanna call it. The cycling gods were looking out for me. Why would I buy a pair of semi-running/semi-riding shoes? Work. These past few years I've just worn an old nasty pair of shoes that were on their last legs when the temperatures got too cold for sandals. Walking around uptown Charlotte on a pair of hard soled shoes gets old, and when it's super cold you can feel the shock all the way up your spine with every heel strike. I'm old and fragile, and my comfort has to take a priority sometimes, and when comfort comes at a steep discount I'm in.

I purchased some other less than fun crap and went home satiated, but not thrilled. I hardly consumed at a rate that would keep America safe from terrorism (under GW's plan). The weekend was full, and sadly, over.

Next weekend... the big Hush Hush ride. I'm actually nervous??? Maybe.