C'mon

Worst SSWC internet coverage ever. Anyone got some links to share with me so I can kill my day off in the most unproductive of all manners?

Some shirts still available.

Not many.

$20 ~ Inquire within. teamdicky at hotmail dot com

Prepared for (not quite) all-out war on Shenandoah Mountain

Sunday's ride looking for the Land of the Lost was a test run for my new Shenandoah Mountain 100 set-up. What's new and different (and the same)?

I had some time to chat with Thomas Turner while racing at ORAMM (he had flatted and had multiple issues, and I was riding with my head out of the game). He told me that one of the tubes that he had TAPED to his bike had a hole in it when he went to use it*. I've had many discussions with the technical wizard at Backcountry Research about this very topic of tube fragility, especially after the 2010 Shenandoah 100. I flatted early in the race, and when I went to use my tube, it had a hole in it. I had been carrying an ultra-ultra-liteweight tube starting late May 2010. Fast forward three months later to the Breck Epic, and I'm shoving a broken tire lever I loaned out to a fellow racer back in the strap without thinking about what I was doing. Fast forward to Shenandoah a few weeks later, my tube has a hole, and I'm walking down a mountain looking for an errant tube lying in the trail. Lesson learned... check your shit before a race.

It may be pointless, but part of my now extensively anal preparation of tubes for the purposes of strapping now looks like this:

A homemade, extra-wide rubber band (made from an old tube) around the middle of the tube.

Not only for the tubes I'm carrying, but the ones in my drop bag as well.

As cool as it looks to have the tube under the seat with the Hitch/Race straps, I can get the Back Forty from my drop bags and strapped to the bike pretty freaking quick if I need to reload.

The next two items may not seem to make much sense, but let me explain.

Ignore the non-standard placement of the BR logo on the strap.

A second tube with no CO2 on the seatpost and a 25 gram CO2 with inflator mounted and ready to go where my Mountain Pipe pump should go.

Why?

When I first feel a flat tire coming on, I stop to check it out. Often times (like four times this year) I go ahead and put in some CO2 after I break the inflator out and attach it to the cylinder, and I attempt to get the Stan's to seal. Once that fails, I throw in a tube, use the rest of the CO2, and then sometimes have to use the mini-pump to finish it off.

I don't wanna use the mini-pump when I'm racing a man-eater like Gerry "The Pflug" Pflug. I will grab the ready-to-go CO2 and attempt to get the hole to seal. If that fails, I'll throw in the lonely strapped tube, hit it with the remaining CO2, top it off it I must, and I'll still have one more fast flat fix before I'm walking to the next aid station.

Paranoia.

Of course, I'll have my Tülbag (pronounced tūl-bahg) loaded with the usual crap:

Driver license (to make it easier to identify the body)
Heavy duty tire boot (doubles as a shelter)
Glueless patches (which probably won't work being that my tube will be covered in moist Stan's fluid)
Chain tool/spare quick link (even though I have never broken a PC-1 on the trail)
$5 bill (stripper money... you never know)
Another CO2 head (because it was already in there)
A spare QR end (because I've lost one before)
4, 5, 6, and a sneaky 8mm allen keys (to attend to the entropic nature of threaded objects)

That's what I'm carrying and whatnot.


Oh yeah, I had some squishy bits mounted up, but we can talk about that next.

*My mind is blurry on this topic. He was either talking about his ORAMM flats or a previous race.

Dude, where's the car? Seriously.

Saturday I was an unmotivated turd. Although there was a 50 mile race an hour from my house at a venue where I once topped the podium, my mom had a chemo appointment. I did the responsible thing, and while I was doing that, Zac (my 2011 PMBAR partner) took the SS win.

Remember Zac?

That's him on the 3rd step below my second step at ORAMM, ergo that means I won the Rivers Edge Mountain Marathon single speed class ipso facto.

Victory.... or else Robert Jameson won the race, being that he was not there as well.

I had no plans for Sunday, but then The Dude called me. He wanted to go to Wilson's Creek and ride some known trails and scout out a new one (new to us).

In.

Wilson's Creek is the kinda place that you can get by doing an "epic" on a couple bottles if it's not too hot outside as there are tiny little stores, springs, and fountains dotting the landscape. We were going where things could get a little hairy, so I put a third bottle in my pocket.

When we came to the spring about 7 miles into the ride, I noticed I hadn't drank anything yet. I pounded half a bottle, filled it back up from the spring, and noticed a lot of sediment floating about. Fail.

When we got to the first store, it was closed. Fail.

Eventually we got to the visitor area parking lot with a fountain, and I was back in the game. We headed over to Yancy Ridge (short loop) first. If I ever need to be reminded that I am a good mountain biker, but not a great mountain biker, this is the place to go. The lower washed out section V-gullies always have me humbled at some point.

Yeah, The Dude rode most of it. Whatever.

After Yancy, we headed up a climb to the mostly unknown 11 mile trail that is Wilson's Ridge. It starts with 21 Lumps (which used to be 21 Bumps and before that, 21 Jumps). Once we completed that known section it was route finding, map reading, bush whacking, private property sign semi-ignoring (the property can be private, but the road/trail public, right?) gate jumping, and plenty of hike-a-bike. All to end up at a frustrating dead end.

Reluctantly, and very behind schedule, we decided to back track. The Dude was in need of some real Dude Fude, and due to the fact that we parked the car where we thought we'd end up we had quite a long ride back to happiness. On the way out, The Dude broke his Saint rear derailleur, but he managed to make it semi-functional enough to continue. Further along our way back, we couldn't find the shitty, over grown double track we rode in on, and ended up forcing our way out of the woods back to a point on the map that was semi-recognizable.

We did salvage the ride by hitting Schoolhouse Ridge, another trail that reminds me just how "good" of a mountain biker I truly am. From there, it was a long gravel "ride of shame" back to the "logistically" parked car.

Seven hours, 2.5 bottles of water, a Clif bar, and three individual Shot Bloks left over from Breck Epic.

Silly.

But it was a shakedown ride for my new gear configuration I might run at the Shenandoah 100 next weekend.

More about that tomorrow.

Waiting for the worms

Although I did wake up early to write a post, I was off yesterday. I was expecting my bike back from Breckenridge VIA the brown truck. I wanted to build it up with the SID fjörk that nobody bothered to buy from me over the last couple weeks and try it out AGAIN. The Superbeast is still out of service as the rear shock is still in warranty. The Propedal had been downgraded to Semi-Propedal for quite some time, and with only three days left on my warranty, I decided to address the issue.

So I woke up, got right to blogging, walked Fajita to her first day of school, started on an article for Dirt Rag, killed time, killed more time, killed even more time, went to wait for Fajita's bus, and killed more time.

Fajita's bus was over an hour late.

Then all hell broke loose.

The mailman pulled up to the corner. Would he have my FOX shock or maybe my long overdue copy of Dirt Rag 158 Ed? Then the UPS man rumbled by.

Fuck.

I made chase.

It was not a heated chase in any way, shape, or form.

As I chastised the UPS man for driving around with my bike all day forcing me to watch strange Enter the Dragon boy videos to fill my void, the school bus pulled up.

Yes, right behind the mailman, who did not have a FOX shock, but did have my new Dirt Rag.

Overwhelmed with all the new input, I managed to reassemble the Misfit diSSent Bröntöawesömeöus Meatplow V.5 with the unwanted-by-the-general-public SID fjörk (I wish nobody woulda showed me those umlaut shortcuts, this might get excessive). I went for an overexcited ride at the Backyard Trails and ran my shoulder into a tree within the first ten minutes.

Excellent.

Back home, I tore into the pages of my new Dirt Rag. Aside from another stellar article from me (anti-advice for stage racing), I noticed a review of the Backcountry Research Hitch Strap. I had to help Josh mount it back in June at the TSE (not testicular self-exam) as he wanted to stuff a CO2, multi-tool, tube, tire lever, and a Mountain Pipe mini-pump into his mighty load. We managed to get it all in there, but not mentioned in the review was the fact that no matter how hard I tried, I could not get a Race Strap to fit on the seat/seatpost combo Karen Brooks was running on her borrowed Orbea. I was dumbfounded, and I eventually I threw in the towel, giving her an old school strap I had brought with me.

One of the many reasons I'm happy to see the return of the new and improved Back Forty strap. Any load, anywhere, any time. Any confusion? Watch the video.

So easy, a caveman would do it... all night long.

Today I will read the rest of the magazine... my article will be read twice.

I mentioned some t-shirts Peter may or may not make before I left for Breckenridge.

He made them, or more to the point, he paid Jeff Wu of Alchemist Threadworks to make them.

Some were distributed at the Breck Epic, as evidenced by this photo I found of promoter Mike McCormack at the end of stage six/start of stage seven:

photo from Colby Pearce's singletrack.com coverage of said event

They look like this, only with bigger print. Some are currently in Peter's possession. Some are left over and at my house right now. I have five larges, four mediums, and one small left. They are $20+ some nominal shipping charge (I gotta ask the guy at the post office today).

Email me at teamdicky at hotmail dot com if you want one or ten and have some sort of paypal account. When they are gone, they are gone.

Almost matching belt buckle not sold separately

TECHNICIÄNS ÖF SPÅCE SHIP EÅRTH THIS IS YÖÜR CÄPTÅIN SPEÄKING YÖÜR ØÅPTÅIN IS DEA̋D"

Yesterday, things got off track.

I forgot I had other topics to cover, but I had to go there.

Not so much other topics, but at the very least, more long winded "blah, blah, blah" about the topics I did cover.

I told you how great the Breck Epic was (the only stage race I've ever been to three years in a row), but I forgot to tell you something important. For a limited time only, the entry fees to the Breck Epic are reduced substantially. Right now you can get into the six day for $749 and the three day for $429. They expect to sell out in 2012... just saying.

Peter says I will be there.

What else?

I heard on Dee Snyder's House of Hair the other day that Blue Öyster Cult was the first band to bring the umlaut to rock and roll.

They did not invent the umlaut, nor did they copyright it.

I did not invent the small zippered pouch, but I was the first person to bring the umlaut to the small zippered pouch industry.

I am certainly not the first person in the cycling industry to use the umlaut unnecessarily to make a product more "rock n roll." Stevil has been using the umlaut to improve his product line for much longer than I have. For example, the AHTBM Tall Boy cüzie:

Stevil has every right to use the umlaut. He's so "rock n roll" that when Rolling Stone asked Lemmy Kilmister what he thought of Stevil, his reply was "Dude... duder.... doooooooooood. Fück all!"

Anyone can use the umlaut. It is a powerful tool. David St. Hubbins knew how important the umlaut is to enhancing one's image and making a powerful statement of one's rockitude.

"It's like a pair of eyes. You're looking at the umlaut, and it's looking at you."

The worst part about using an umlaut is that I do not have an umlaut key on my keyboard. I have to go chase one down on the internet and cut/paste it into place. This requires a great deal of effort.

You will be happy to know that when you buy a Tülbag (pronounced tūl-bahg), you get the umlaut for free. That's right, there is no additional charge for the umlaut. That's a promise. You will not even receive an invoice after the fact.

That's a gift, from me to you.

Now if that isn't a good enough reason to buy one, I don't know what it is.

More Breck Epic'esque, and the Tülbags are here

Just a bit more about the Breck Epic....

For those that want to know, there are many things that make the Breck Epic a super convenient stage race (as far as stage races go). You can ship your bike out instead of flying with it, thus saving a lot of money. There are affordable shuttle services that can take you from the Denver airport to Breck and back. The town is super small, so if you don't have a car while your there, it's not a problem to use your bike to get around (I clocked an extra 25+ non-race miles on my bike over seven days). If you don't feel like camping, there are plenty of reasonably priced accommodations....

depending on your standards.

I think some people are intimidated by the altitude. I can see why, since even Basso, Evans, and Schleck whine about it. It does make things hard, and if you want to be competitive, it's best if you can get out there early to acclimate. I'm pretty sure most people sign up for a stage race for the adventure of it all, and there's no reason to think that the altitude will keep you from having a great time. Breck is spectacular and the views and trails are among the best I've ever experienced. You're cheating yourself if you don't give it a try because you're scared of some thin air.

While I was on blog vacation, Backcountry Research finally released the much anticipated Tülbag (pronounced tūl-bahg)...

and the new Back Forty strap.

I'm happy with the way the Tülbag turned out, although, as it has been pointed out to me by an astute reader, the current hang tags have a grammatical error of epic proportions. I have to take the blame on that one, and now and forever I'll be double checking my use of "lay" and "lie". Hopefully I can find my dictionary... it's got to be laying around here somewhere.

I used my Tülbag at the Breck Epic and was pleased by its performance. Most of the time, I hardly noticed it was there, but when I needed it.... oh, what can I really say? It's a tough bag with a well thought out design, it's expertly constructed, and it holds my tools and spare bits. Simple, solid, perfect.

I did use the new Back Forty strap at the Breck Epic as well. I could show you some action pictures, but the racing photos have been taken down from my blog. Why? The first email I got from the photographer said:

"...I'm sending photos out to bloggers no cost to help drive traffic to my site."

Then after I posted the images (with links to the photographer's site) yesterday, I got this email:

"So did you not care about the the note with the photos stating that all images are for review purposes only? That acts as a legal contract, for your info.

The fact that you went ahead and posted 6 images without my approval shows you have little respect for me and my career. The submission was very clear... if you took the time to read it.

This email will follow with a formal invoice for your illegal use of my images. It a bummer that even yourself would take advantage. Dude, I don't work for free."

Rather than sort through the confusion, I removed the images from yesterday's post. I guess free isn't free, or at the very least, has subtle limitations I didn't comprehend. I respect the work that photographers do, but some communication breakdown seems to have put me in an awkward place. My bad, my apologies to all. You will not get to see his excellent work here.

You'll have to settle for this:

from Jeff Kerkove's Gold Dust video

Back to the Back Forty....

I like the fact that it is more versatile than the Hitch and can go anywhere on the bike you can strap it down. It's slightly easier to use, load, and mount/remove. Sure, it's not as sexy as the Hitch, all tucked up under the saddle nice and tidy, but it's more adaptable to a variety of load sizes and positions. It does not come in all the fashionable colors, but at least black goes well with formal and casual wear.

I guess you can see the Back Forty waiting for its first use in Peter's shitty iPhone photo. I've got a new, semi-top secret method for loading tubes in the straps, but all my shit (tubes, CO2, whatnot) are in the box being shipped back to my house, so perhaps I'll let you in on my new method as I prepare for the Shenandoah 100 next week.

Breck Epic'esque: Stage 4-6

Stage four: The Keystone Loop

Although this was my third year at the Breck Epic, I could not remember what the fourth stage had to offer. Looking at that profile, it's hard to believe one could ride over that kinda terrain and have no memory of the experience. It was freaking hard... one of the hardest days of the whole week, yet once again my memory fails me as I write about it. I can only recall riding behind the original MOOTSman and maker of my titanium seatpost, Kent Eriksen, all the way down the longest descent of the day. He was "impressed" by my rigid frok downhill skills, but I explained to him that it was easier to go fast if I let a rider with a suspension fork get in front of me.

He said "You mean like everybody else out here?"

"Errrmmm.... yes."

Day four in the bag, once again in 5th place after 4:52 in the saddle riding around a course so hard my brain has quarantined it to some special unattainable lobe of my brain.

Stage five: Wheeler Loop

Wheeler is tops on my list. Even last year when I was riding like a piece of shit, I was able to make with the goods on the fifth day. There's just something about getting yourself up to almost 12,500 under your own power. Although I had a great start, I was slower on the hike-a-bike than I was last year... or at least that's my perception. What does it look like getting to the top? Jeff Kerkove shot a great video that sheds some light on the perspective of the mountain.

The only thing that makes you feel smaller than crawling up the side of the mountain is looking up and seeing the leaders as tiny dots way ahead in the distance. The push up to the sky is so worth the day's effort. The following descent is so worth the week's effort.

All manner of braggadocio aside, the long descent off of Wheeler was one of the big reasons I decided to stay rigid for the Breck Epic. It's a huge challenge to bomb down this thing, and I really wanted the same experience I've had twice before. No disappointments here.

5th place again, 3:40 minutes of smiling.

Stage six: Gold Dust

I don't have a profile, but let's just say you ride over Boreas Pass at 11,500ft two times in less than 40 miles.

I found it hard to want to put too much effort into the last day. Sure, there were a couple fun trails, but the standings were not gonna change for me, and hurrying up the climbs wasn't gonna make the descents any sweeter. I did give it a little gas when the top women (who were on a stage neutralizing social ride) came by, but I wanted to go down Gold Dust uninhibited. On the way back over Boreas Pass, I was greeted by Jeff Kerkove... beer in hand. A group of spectators schlepped PBR's up the mountain, and I am never one to turn down such hospitality.


Video of the following belch fest can be seen at 5:52, once again courtesy of Jeff "They use to call me Mr 24" Kerkove.



It's not easy pounding a beer when you pass over 11,500 for the second time of the day. Not wanting to be unappreciative, I rolled down the mountain one handed with the remainder of my beer as opposed to tossing it aside as some did. It was not necessarily safe, but it was the right thing to do at the time. Being that I didn't really eat or drink much during the entire stage, I could sorta feel the effects of the beer on the later technical descents, but at least it made for a novel experience and gave me a head start on stage 7.

5th place/3:02... whatever

unfortunate podium photo stolen from Mike Melley

More proof that single speeders need adult supervision.

from L-R and top to bottom Me (5th), Mike Melley (2nd), Vince Anderson (1st), Jeff Carter (3rd), Rob Lockey (4th), Peter Keiller (7th), and John Odle (6th).

Stage 7: Gold Pan Saloon

Let's just say that the tradition continued. Beer, Absinthe, beer, dancing, bleeding, and whatnot. The 5:15AM shuttle to Denver International Airport on Saturday was rough.

Perhaps some final thoughts tomorrow.

Breck Epic'esque: Stage 1-3

Going into the 2011 Breck Epic, I had a few very uninspired goals. I wanted to have fun, take care of myself, and come home without any stress related cold sores. Peter's goal was to make sure I only accomplished the first and failed at the second and third. After Little E picked us both up from the airport, we were on our way to Breckenridge, first stop... power lunch washed down with a pitcher of Avalanche. Once we got back to our room, we built our bikes and rolled out to the brocery store for food and more beer.

It took me longer than usual to build my bike since I took the time to swap over to my new pink EBB.

No, you can not has one.

Being at altitude felt as it always does. Watching TV does not feel bad. Moving around does. Sleeping is difficult and hourly periods of awakeness are commonplace.

Stage one: Pennsylvania Creek

Riding at altitude is just how I remembered it, humbling. Either you get to town weeks ahead of time and acclimate or you just plain suffer. Being a normal human with a normal job and a normal life, I chose to suffer. Right from the neutral roll-out from town, I felt like I was riding under water. I knew it was coming this time, and as advised by Breck Epic promoter Mike McCormack, I throttled back a bit.

At the 5.77 mile mark I saw a guy who had not "throttled back." He was vomiting. I throttled back a little more to avoid any unnecessary spewing. Trying to make the most of all the descending, I managed to hang it out just a little too much and almost lost it on a steep rocky pitch. At least someone was close enough behind me to get some entertainment value from the experience. I finished the day in 4:18 with a 5th place out of eight starters/seven finishers (we lost one of our single speeders to vomiting).

Stage two: The Colorado Trail

Mike had told us that the rain that fell overnight would provide us with something the locals called "hero dirt." The term had been bandied about quite a bit over the last two years of the event, so I knew I was to expect super traction on the trails. In an attempt to utilize the ultra-sticky dirt to my benefit, I hung it out on the very first descent, and on the very first corner of the very first descent I discovered another meaning for "hero dirt." This would be the variety of dirt which slides out from under your front tire as you don your cape and fly headlong down the trail with your bicycle no longer attached to your person. Hero dirt indeed.

Not too much later I noticed a fair amount of squish in my rear tire. Due to recent flat experiences this season I had promised myself that I would not waste time trying to seal anymore flats this season. I would just stick a tube in if anything suspect happened in the tire department, but somehow I still found myself at the side of the trail trying to put air into my failing rear tire in hopes that it would fix itself. Once convinced that this course of action was a fail, I tossed in my spare tube while 6th and 7th place became 5th and 6th. While fixing my situation at the side of the trail, I may or may not have farted on a passing rider. I apologized just in case. After 4:43 on the bike I came in 5th place after chasing my way back into the proper order of things.

Stage three: The Guyot Loop

This stage is pretty massive in its intensity. A couple of huge hike-a-bikes, one of my favorite all-time descents, and plenty of gnarly terrain. Somehow I managed to be in a virtual third place for almost ten seconds after bombing down a nasty descent into the first aid station, but Jeff Carter and Rob Lockey restored the natural order of things shortly thereafter. I had a Dirty Dancing "time of my life" coming down the Colorado Trail trying to keep La Ruta promoter Roman Urbino and his full squishy behind me the whole way down. After 5:02 worth of effort, I came in 5th place once again.

I'll finish this up tomorrow.

It's a trip, it's got a funky beat, and I can bug out to it

Sorry, I was loading Bell Biv DeVoe: Greatest Hits to my iPod this morning.



Unfortunately their "Greatest Hits" are just the same three songs with seven different remixes.

In less than 36 hours I'll be out of breath stirring a pot of macaroni and cheese. Although I'd like to think it will be different this time, it won't. My lungs will be seared, my head will pound, and hopefully I won't suffer from altitude induced hemorrhoids.

My goals?

Have a good time

Work on my autobiography, It's Not About the Beer: My Travels in the Single Speed Peleton

Keep Peter towards the back of the room at the awards ceremony

Find the end of a rainbow

Kill a leprechaun

Eat a leprechaun

Beat Peter

Somehow the timing has worked out that I will have a couple new products from Backcountry Research to play with at the Breck Epic. Oddly enough, I purchased my first original Awesome Strap right before the 2009 Breck Epic, and I used the prototype Hypalon straps for the first time at the 2010 edition.

Now I has these:

Samples of the new and improved Back Forty straps (think the original strap on EPO and amphetamines) and production versions of the Tülbag (pronounced tūl-bahg).

Yes, that is me on the tag.

And the back

I will be using the mesh bag. As I've said before, mesh is my favorite colorway for panties and Tülbags.

Yes, my tools (or Tüls... pronounced tūlz) are more exposed to the elements, but if I am too lazy to take them out of the bag after a rainy day, they are more likely to dry out and not get rusty.

Not that there's anything wrong with a little Rusty.

Also, the mesh bag makes it easier to find what I'm looking for in a hurry, which sometimes actually happens in a race-type scenario.

I will probably bring a few with me and give some to a few folks I consider key players in the industry. Peter may get one as well to replace his single speed wallet.

Availability is literally right around the corner... well, literally around the figurative corner.

I may or may not be posting daily from the Breck Epic. My output may end up on some media related site or it may be snubbed altogether and labeled as "certain amounts of tedious drivel from an also-ran" by the promoter.

Check back here often and prepare for equal amounts of disappointment and amusement.

I may be getting ready for Breck....

but Breck is not ready for me.

When word got out that the two riders who dominated the back 1/5 of the single speed field were returning with a vengeance, the townspeople of Breckenridge fled.

Yes, Peter and I were stinking up the place in 2010, and we have no intentions of doing any less of a funk job in 2011. Word of the destructive battle royale for DFL in the single speed class was spread via the town crier (not to be confused with the Jon Cryer), and as women wept at the missed opportunity to catch a glimpse of the glistening warriors and children sobbed knowing that the real men of might who they pretend to be on the playground at recess would be close enough to smell, the men folk snatched them all up and carried them away in their Landcruisers to a distant place where their marriage's fidelity and children's respect could be kept in tact. Fjear was rampant in the streets, and everything not nailed down was packed up and taken to the Walmart parking lot in Frisco in a mass exodus.

On my end, the packing has begun.

No sooner had I laid out my handwear did I receive a fluffy, padded package. I have friends in high places.

I also know Thad.

Thad has very nice Harry Potter stationary, and there is no shame to that man's game.

What did the gentleman from Tennessee and former PMBAR teammate send me via the current US and future Haliburton Postal System?

Giro Rivet gloves
minimal to no padding
color: so-pro white

What a friend. I almost feel bad for not having him be my partner at the 2011 PMBAR. Almost, but not quite. I used up what feelings I had watching Sleepless in Seattle back in 1993. Now I am an empty shell that's devoid of human emotions, just a dancing machine from Hell.

You asked for it....

Is this for real?

Peter could be pulling my leg, but these might be available in the near future. Made by the folks at Alchemist Threadworks...

or not.

You'll know when I know, or slightly thereafter.

BTW: In case you didn't know, another reason that Brian Lopes is not Awesome.

Seriously, a million dollar bike with more carbon fiber than a Stealth bomber, and he tapes his spare tube on with electrical tape.

Fail.

What more could you want from my "day off" post?

Why do I keep fjorkin' up?

I forgot to share with everybody the bountiful booty that I took home from my big ORAMM not-win. I got a prototype/ride-at-your-own-risk-tire, a pair of Fox board shorts, and this "Ride the Pisgah" shirt.

I though that the rider printed on the high quality blue T-shirt was none other than Jeremiah Bisquick, but on closer inspection I realized that it couldn't be. Jebediah rolls a Lefty, but the rider depicted on the shirt is on a Righty.

I have no idea.

Just last week, I mentioned the purchase of a squishy fjork for the Breck Epic.

The next day I posted that I had a chance to ride the fjork, and then I boxed up my bike and shipped it out.

I never said that the fjork was still on the bike when I boxed it up.

I wanted to take that photo with today's paper (kidnapper style), but I don't get the paper. Instead I'm holding Eric Van Driver's Bubba Ho-Tep DVD that I've been reluctant to return for over nine months. This does nothing to date the photo, but it does make me feel like a bad borrower.

When will Bruce Campbell get his Lifetime Achievement Oscar? When?

On the way up to Lake Norman for the ride heard 'round the world, I kept looking in my rear-view mirror at my now fjork shod bike. I was trying to imagine riding the descents at Breck with a squishy fjork, but I just couldn't see it. Last Wednesday's ride was a pleasant experience with the fjork, but I knew it had to come off when I got home. The voices in my head spoke, and the ears in my head listened.

I am planning to ride a fjork in the "off season," maybe even as soon as I get home from Breck, but not now. As a matter of fact, I'm going to sell this fjork and replace it with a white one as soon as possible. The white one will be much faster... that is unless you're interested in buying the black one, in which case the black is faster.

If you want a 2012 Sid RL fjork, let me know. Very best price, ridden once by a little old man who was not on his way to church at the time, 170mm steer tube, black (which makes it fast).

Thanks to everyone that helped me get the fjork and all its associated pieces/parts in time for Breck even though it is staying at home. Knowing what I know is better than going with not knowing what I don't know now.

Later.

BTW: Any Breck Epic'ers or Denverites wanna give Peter and I a ride to/from the airport? We can pay in stickers and free Subway coupons.... or a shiny black fjork.

Best laid plans and all

I woke up Friday morning with a plan for the weekend. Take my mom to chemo early on Saturday, bust out a decently long ride locally, head to the mountains on Sunday for a ride, and welcome The Pie/Fajita home from Ohio Sunday evening.

Then Friday happened.

Seven inches of rain in some parts of Charlotte. Biblical rain. In over fourteen years of messenger work, the conditions were definitely unprecedented. At one point I had to stop in the middle of doing a job and wait until the rain let up just so I could see where I was going. My rain coat kept my back dry, and that was about it. The day before it was almost a hundred degrees, and the next day I'm shivering in building lobbies. Love this job.

Obviously the local trails were in no condition to ride on Saturday. After I dropped my mom back at her place, I turned into a lethargic steaming pile of poo. I did manage to build the Superbeast back into single speed mode, build my old ti bike (that Zac borrowed for the Tour de Burg) back into a fixed gear greenway grinder, and pack my tools for the Breck Epic while watching many, many movies on Netflix.

I did not have a beer when the urge first hit me at 11:53AM.

I made it to 3:08PM.

I'm proud of that.

On Sunday, Zac saved my soul by coming out to the woods to play with me. We headed out to Dupont and he showed me around. Dupont is no place to go if you don't know your way, unless you wanna pull out a map... a lot. With 91 trails in lengths from .15 to 4.24 miles, there are plenty of intersections. On the way home I thought I would return the favor by showing Zac around Poston Park, but even though I just rode there last week, I managed to get us lost. The kinda lost where we were stuck on an infinite closed figure eight loop with no way to get back to the car. Eventually we left the woods in our own particular idiom, and managed to get back to the car after riding for almost an hour and a half on less than six miles of trail.

The Pie is now back, which means I once again have adult supervision. Everything should be fine now... until next time.