Tuesday, January 15

Not for sale... yet

So the cherry was popped on the Stumpjumper this past Saturday.  The Dude, Kurt, Nick, Joey and I made for the mountains of NC... after a bachelor inefficient stop at the Common Market for breakfast.  Wilson's Creek was made for single speeders, most of the climbs can be easily done with a 32X18 (38X21 if you're into science), and there's a certain smugness when the shuttle bitches roll by... similar to the smugness they feel sitting in their trucks while laughing at the skinny assholes in lycra riding up the climbs.
The big paved nasty up 181 left me in an unhappy place.  The bike was as efficient as it could be, what with the front/rear set in CLIMB mode on he way up.  I, on the other hand, was terribly inefficient.   Seeing the single speeders ahead, I stomped the pedals madly in a gear much larger than 32X18.  The smarter geared riders took their time, and I was in the middle of them all, frustrated and alone.

At least the ground breaking single speeders waited for us at the over look.

"Ground breaking,"  you say?

Yes, they were both on 26" single speeds.  I had no idea it could be done.  Nick was full of win that day.

How much win?  Purple skinny jeans, PBR cycling cap, S-Works steel frame, 100mm of spacers under the stem, V-brakes, tubes (what are those?), and some kinda hip-purse.  He rocked it all; Greentown, Beehive, Sinkhole, FTW!

Joey was almost full of win, but his attempt to throw his borrowed single speed into the ravine was looked down upon, literally and figuratively, by all in our group.

Wilson's was a bit on the slippery side.  The balls to the wall, puffy dry leaves descending I had dreamed about will have to wait for another day.  There were many instances of bodies touching the floor, and mine own instance was on an uphill.   Meh.

I'll get into the how the bike rode later... like Thursday later.

The duration of the ride went well past my nutritional needs.  I had to rush home for a date, so I skipped the post-ride foodings, drove as many as seven miles an hour over the speed limit, got home, walked in the door, had a beer snack in the shower, and headed right back out.  Sunday morning, I ate another nonsensical, protein laden breakfast and then rode the Stumpjumper to the short track race to watch the action and inspect the jump I built last week.

Beers were drank, taunting occurred, heckling ensued, Marcus Barton provided the entertainment.

His jump was fine, his landing a little off, and the navigation of his upper body between two tightly spaced trees was brilliant.  If only he coulda got his bike through as well.

After a full day in the woods with hot laps in between races, I was spent.  Once again, my tank was completely empty.  Around 5:30PM, on the way home, I wanted to lay down in someone's yard and die.

That's a good weekend.

Like I said, Thursday... bullet points on the new bike and projected for-sale dates and prices.


Anonymous said...

Gears? Full suspension? Baggies? The fuck!? Guess I'm calling 800-8884- 8884, reporting your ass. Maybe with after some bribery, lying and name calling, you can finally land a spot on Oprah. "In the tell all special, Dicky tells the world of how is the world shittiest cyclist."

dicky said...

Like I ever tried to hide that fact.

Tigger, please.