99 Ways to Die

I came home quite excited Tuesday night.  Not just because I was going to be able to make the weekly Dirty Cat/Faster Mustache ride at 6:30 that I hardly ever to have time to attend.  Yes, the route was going to be interesting.  The plan was to ride course for the soon to be announced event coming in March, save for a few trail sections.  That was something to be excited about, but so was this:

My first ever RED Cane Creek 110 headset.

Why red?  To match the unfortunate red bits in my Command Post Blacklite Drooper. 

photo absconded from BIKERUMOR

And because the Cane Creek Dick Handler had one in stock.

I love installing headsets.  Something so satisfying about the whole process.  I took it out of the box(es), snapped a photo, and grabbed a beer.  I then put my hands on my official Cane Creek lower race tool and my unofficial hunk of tapered headtube compatible PVC pipe.

I banged the race on, took a sip of beer, and looked at the rest of the installation.  I'd never installed a Campy style headset before.

Look at hole, drop bearing in, done.

Seriously?  I remember when I was riding a Bullit with a warranty voiding double triple clamp Junior T.  I wanted to get a Chris King Steelset to keep the headtube from wallering out.  Now I'm just throwing a bearing into a hunk of carbon.  At least the warranty is still intact.

Done with the project at hand, I finished my beer and celebrated the finishing of both the installation and the beer with another beer.

and then headed out the door for the Dirty Cat that went thusly:

I get to Tim's at 6:20 for the 6:30 ride.  We wait for Who's This Joey till 6:50.  He no shows, but he does text someone "shit."

We ride to the first trail destination after some navigational confusion.  It's a ride of oddities.  Everything from an urban fixie, to single speed mountain bikes, to full squish.  Our pack moves through the streets like an accordion looking for a fight or a drunken inchworm running from one.

At the first trail, there's a flat.  Then a broken light mount on a helmet.  Then another flat.  We leave the trail and head to our next destination.  The Dude splits the gutter to my right, we lock handlebars, and we tumble into the street like a very unorganized and purposeless flash mob.

The ride continues.

On our way to the next trail, we stop at the Common Market.  I don't know why.  Some people go in.  Others stay out.  We (the others) see people emerging with food.  The plan was "ride then food," so now we're outta sequence.  Mutiny ensues, beer is bought, the ride is over.

Against my better AARP judgement, I joined in on the 9:00PM meal plan as well.

The Dude felt remorseful for taking me down to the pavement, so he bought my beer.

I may have to wreck into large people more often.