Everything you need to know about (my) bar width

My friend Kevin once asked me, "Why do you always gotta be fucking with shit?"

Honestly, I do not know.

I futilely seek an unachievable perfection.  I want things just so.  I find it hard to watch my TV because it looks like it's hanging crooked on the wall, but that's more because nothing in my seventy year old house is level (or without a crack in it).   My t-shirts are sorted into summer thin, winter thick, and sleeveless.  My flannel shirts and jackets need to be hung with zippers/buttons/snaps facing right.  I'm still looking for the fastest/most efficient way to put a stretchy kit on a plastic coat hanger... obvs zippers facing right.

Etc.

I've messed with the fit on the Vertigo Meatplow V.7 a few times.  Pretty sure I started with a 70mm stem and 680mm bars.  I'm currently on a 50mm stem with 780mm bars.  I started riding on wider bars when I had the Bronson, and it felt molar betterer.  I think this is fine.  Just fine.  The internet basically says I'm wrong tho.

According to bike expert person Lee McCormack, I'm way wrong.

Here's the theoretical issues I'm forcing myself to deal with:

• You lose range of motion so you can’t ride down steep hills or make tight turns. (I thought fear and lack of skills were what was holding me back there)

• You lose pushing strength so you can’t handle impacts at your best. (I thought that was my stupid rigid crabon frok)

• You lose pulling strength so you can’t pump terrain at your best. (Pump terrain?  Strength?  What are these things?)

• You rely on the small muscles in your arms and shoulders, and they get tired. (Being that the "small muscles" on my arms and shoulders are extra small, I figured that was the issue... also, I'm 51... I live "tired")

• You can damage your shoulders. This I know. (I've got one bad shoulder from carrying a messenger bag for twenty plus years.  I've always said, when you get old enough, any body part you have two of, you'll have a "good one" and a "bad one")

So, I wanted to see if I was all wrong.  Not willing to cut down a perfectly good crabon handlebar, I just scooted everything in 20mm, effectively making my 780mm bars into 740mm bars (3mm narrower than Lee's formula based on height times a number spit out).  I stuck a slightly longer stem on there for good measure because why not?

It only took about four miles of riding for me to swap back to a 50mm stem in order to save my life.

Two days ago, I headed over to Steve's Place (I refuse to call it Rocky River Trail) because if any place local is gonna give me everything, it's Steve's.  The hardest climbs, the chunkiest descents, the steepest (legal) steeps... just all the good good packed into 14+ miles and 1,700+ feet of elevation gain.

I swear I tried to make it work.

Jeebus.  What an awful ride.  I was getting beat to death on the descents. I couldn't get the leverage I needed on the strenuous Gorge, No Name, and Stairway climbs.  I fumbled in the technical sections.  Everything just felt wrong.  I found my hands wanting to scoot out to the ends of the bar.

I came to some conclusions.

A rigid single speed mountain bike is not a normal mountain bike.

A person trying to ride a rigid single speed as fast as possible is not a normal person.

I am not a normal person.

I know I have long legs for a short man.  Google says my inseam should be 27".  Mine is 31."  I've never considered my wingspan...

Some googling and whaddaya know?  Arm span should be close to one's height... and I just laid down on the floor and did a quick measure and...

I have the arm span of someone who is 5' 10" or so.

Gggggggggggggreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaat.

Right back to where I started then.

Nothing ventured.  Nothing gained... except the knowledge that I'm probably fine.  Just fine.

Stupid internet.

Speaking of e-bikes, I rode one the other day.   Hlrs.

6 Hours of Warrior Creek this weekend.  Race reports and whatnot forthcoming.

Coming off like a callous prick

I managed to fight the temptation to register for The Whole Enchilada until I went to bed Thursday night.  I woke up relieved to find that it had officially closed and there was no backsies.  Pheww.  I stuck to whatever one might call "principles."  All it woulda took to pull me in woulda been dry trails tho, and then I probably woulda threw my other "principles" out the window.

The poor course markings.  The consistently messed up results.  The lack of any aid stations* for almost fifty miles of riding.  Kind of half doing things right but as long as enough people keep showing up who cares?

*"Due to COVID-19 this race will have no aid stations." was what was posted on the official site, but they put them out there anyways... so any time one mighta spent studying the map and showing up early to stash bottles was wasted, or dog forbid you were one of those poor souls lugging a 100oz hydration pack on your back for no reason...

Anyhoo, with nothing better to do on Saturday with all the wet trails in town and the mountains getting walloped with torrential rain leading into the weekend, I was convinced to join some folks at the heckle spot at The Whole Enchilada.  I may not support the race this time around, but I can support the racers?  That and I wanna spend a lot of time riding the Vertigo Meatplow V.7 in whatever manner I can just so it feels as much a part of me as possible before the 6 Hours of Warrior Creek next week.

I woke up at 6:14AM, piddled about the house, and about 45 minutes before leaving, I had what one might call an idea.  It seems like every year at TWE, someone or other is out there with some decent camera equipment, and after the race, the "who was taking photos out there and where can we see them?" posts pop up on social media.  I've never understood the missed opportunity here.  FWIW: I'd say at least 50% of the field is made up of people who ride mountain bikes, but would not call themselves "mountain bikers" in the way that so many of us wear that on our sleeves.  The Half and Whole Enchilada is not just another notch on their belts, but a novel accomplishment, a real challenge... the kinda thing they're going to talk their other friends with mountain bikes into doing.  Some of these folks will become "mountain bikers," caring about such things as trail advocacy and work, growth of the sport, and estblish a damn fine healthy (but occasionally wallet-draining) habit.  So anyways, it wouldn't take much to dump a bunch of images on the internet, and with the combined enthusiasm of these folks and also the "look at me, I raced my bike again" crowd, people are going to market your event for free for years to come (think FaceBook memory posts).

So anyways, I hastily charged my camera and hauled my ass the seventeen miles out to the USNWC... and because I'm logistically challenged, got to the heckle spot about an hour too early.

All in all, I got over 200 photos before my not charged all the way camera battery died.

My biggest concern was what was I gonna do with all these images when I got home.

I mean, one of the odd things about The Whole Enchilada event page on FaceBook is that there is zero discussion.  There used to be in the past... which makes me think they shut it off.

Mebbe they got tired of answering dumb questions.  They were getting them.  Mebbe they didn't like all the post-race comments about messed up results or "where are the photos?"

Dunno.

But either way, I'd never tried to dump a bunch of images into a FaceBook album, and I wasn't sure how many people belonged to whatever local groups where I'd be able to share them.

But I managed to figure it out, like any other Gen X'er who would rather not figure it out... because I could be doing something better.  I made the gallery public to anyone on or off FaceBook... so there's that.

And of course I didn't know I would spend my evening seeing notifications popping up with people asking to tag images and friend requests and whatnot... and me afraid to miss one accidentally... thus coming off like a callous prick.

I guess it all worked out okay... except I did not have even close to the amount of fun the actual hecklers did.

And there was soooooo much good heckling to be had.

I do realize the irony in sharing these images, which will show up on FaceBook here and there, and do their part to market the event in the future.  *sigh*

Of course, my FOMO was hitting hard in both directions.  I wanted yelling, drinking beer, and clanging a bell but also to be riding my bike with a number plate on my bike.

That feeling at least went away a bit on Sunday when I started looking at the results and seeing discrepancies. 

People quitting the Whole, finishing the Half... getting scored for the Whole.

It can be kinda easy to miss a turn, and because all the trails are used, you will eventually see another arrow again, confirming that you're going the right way... I mean going the right way once again.

I'm sure 90% of the people out there had a great time doing a thing.  3% of the people are looking at the results and saying WTF?  7% are sad because they didn't get the free socks.

I made up those numbers obvs.

Time to focus on this coming weekend and lay awake at night thinking about whether my 780mm bars are gonna be 740mm on a very permanent basis.

Did I just start a whole 'nother topic and leave it hanging out there?

Yeth, El Guapo.

Stuffed Sack

*sigh*

Current ho hum with some slight future excite.

I'm about 97% certain I won't bother with The Whole Enchilada this weekend.  Doing a mental pros and cons list and the only mark in the "fer it" side is "because it's there."  Not a very strong argument at all.  The course is always "there," even on race day since they don't close the trail to other users during events.

Granted, if 6 Hours of Warrior Creek weren't going off next weekend, perhaps I'd be a little more desperate for some racing actions, but it totally is happening.  I sure am hoping I can talk some other single speeders in the the Duo Male SS category, but I heard single speed is ded... which is mebbe why Boone is making ti cogs again?  We got 2/3 of a podium so far, some grab your dumb single speed and sign up already, goons.

Way future excite is that Pisgah Productions announced (some of) their dates, and it looks like a late summer/early fall bike racing blitz. 

So, there's just this giant hole between 6 Hours of Warrior Creek and Shenandoah Mountain 100 to fill with... uncertainty?  Blessed.  Haven't been getting enough of that in my diet.

Way, way future excite?

“I suppose it is tempting, if the only tool you have is a hammer, to treat everything as if it were a nail.”

As someone who only utilizes one of five single speed bikes (usually, forgive me) on any given ride, I identify with this quote.   Sorta.  Gears are like menu options at a Mexican restaurant.  There's too many of them, and I'm probably gonna regret whichever one I choose.

But when it comes to gear (not gears), I want the perfect piece of equipment for the job.  The gloves for 32° to 44°.  The small ratchet with an extension and a 4mm bit that I keep handy just for the tensioning screws on my Paragon Machine Works sliding dropouts.  The shoes dedicated to hike-a-bike heavy races.  My mug that has just the right amount of surface area to volume ratio to keep my coffee at a drinkable temperature. Etc.

I have a plethora of jackets and coats.  I guess it's a combination of needs over time multiplied by memories of being cold or wet due to poor choices.  The two puffy coats I have were both gifts, my super puff for standing around campfires... you know the one with all the burn holes and feathers poofing out of it.  The other one is my sponsor-correct dress puffy from Maxxis Tire Camp. 

Neither of which are very practical when it comes to traveling with them on my bike.
  

This past winter, my friends and I have been gathering outdoors about once a week to drink beers and talk about bikes, and COVID, and bikes, and plumbing, and kids, and bikes.  There have been many nights that have dipped down into some temperatures that were beyond my comfort zone, and I've had more than a few "memorable" rides home.  I've wanted a packable puffy for some time, but I didn't wanna put any thought into it.

Thanks to FaceBook bombarding me with ads, I saw this reversable puffy coat ON SALE from Cognative MTB. Let's see... packable, from a North Carolina company that gives money back to the trails AND is a co-adopter of the Black Mountain Trail (you know, the one that reminds me that there is always a reason to live another day), and did I mention ON SALE?

Is it warm?  I can tell you that in the one and a half minutes it took me to prop my camera on my work bench to snap this photo, I started getting that feeling like when my mom had just bundled me up to go out and play in the Ohio snow and was taking too long to lace up my boots. 

"I'M GETTING HOT!" 

Does it pack down?

Yeth, El Guapo.  Chamois cream and dangling scrotum for size comparison purposes.

Am I bummed that I got this at the very tail end of cold, outdoor drinking season?  A little.  Do I plan on living for awhile longer, so mebbe it's gonna see a metric butt ton of use before I'm ded like single speeds and 26" wheels and Rush Limbaugh?

Yeth, El Guapo.

Packing for (not) Mars

I think I mentioned a couple things awhile back.  

Firstly, I stopped using my messenger bag for commuting.  Since I don't need to carry a 75lb box of NCR paper home, I can get away with a fanny pack 99.9% of the time.  A small one for summer and a larger one in the winter.

Secondly, I'm not a huge fan of bike luggage.  I'm not going to leave my tools and such on my bike when it's parked, and I don't wanna be stuffing clothes in my top tube duffle bag while standing around in the rain.

I did have a failed attempt at using a small front basket.  Let's not talk about that.

Recently tho, something from Topeak caught my eye.  I thought it might fit the bill, so I put in a special request.  Pretty sure it's gonna be great from April to mebbe October.  Days like last week... mebbe a bit of a stretch.

Thirty degree swings are common in Charlotte.  Problem being, a 34° start with a 64° commute home means I need to store this much clothing away.

The GORE Wear Infinium jacket has some insulation, not terribly bulky, but it alone eats up almost all the room in my new Topeak Compact Handlebar Bag.

I kinda knew it would tho.  I read all the reviews and was prepared to deal with it.  I didn't want any of the bigger, bulkier and more intrusive bags, so I needed to get creative'ish.

There are two neoprene pockets which if you use the included extra bit of strap, the whole thing turns into a fanny pack.  Nothing I'm really wanting, since I'm trying to separate myself from all forms of pack life here.

I had to go through all my tools and figure out the minimal amount that I need for a tarck bike...

and I tucked my tube away inside the lining to protect it from anything I might jam in the main compartment like knives, hypodermic needles, or Ninja throwing stars.

On Wednesday, I had warmer 44° start, so this is all I had to stow away for the ride home.

Is it in there?

Aaaaaaaaaaaalmost...

Yeth.

The engineers at Topeak came up with a nifty lightweight solution for keeping the clamps from vibrating and sliding around the bars.  There's a shift cable that goes through a hollow mounting bolt on the left, into a protective plastic liner, under the stem, and then it locks in place with another bolt on the right.

I need to trim the cable (obvs), but I... ummm... have no real excuse here.

All my shit tucked away, clipped on, and ready to roll home.

For those that are noticing that all the real estate for a bike light on the bars is getting gobbled up, rest assured, they figure that out.

I took this picture of the light attached to the removable mount but not attached to QuickClick® mount because I thought it looked a character from the movie *batteries not included.

I know y'all and yinz garvel bikers are gonna shame me for not getting an artisanal, mulit-colored Tootsie Roll style bar bag from a bearded guy with a sewing machine.  Heck, I even know a guy who fits that description.  

But that wouldn't pay the bills.  This is what I wanted:

1. Fast on/off the bike.  I don't want to be futzing with straps and buckles.  I want everything to come with me into the big building, and I want all my extra clothing and whatnot packed away for a quick getaway at 5:02PM.

2. Small.  Topeak makes gigantic bags that I coulda had.  Didn't want this tho:

It does use the same quick release mechanism, but it's far too big for my needs.  I might even be too short to see over this one.

3. Ummmm... that's about it.

I won't be moving this thing from bike to bike, although Topeak makes it easier by selling extra mounts separately.  This is committed to the tarck bike and will be my sole means of carrying all my shit to and from work nine months outta the year.  Most of the time, it's just gonna have my tools, money, iPhone, and mebbe a light rain jacket... oh, and my t-shirt for shirtless commuting because who wears a shirt to ride home from work when it's 90° out?

Not me.

All that said, is this bag for you?  Dunno.  If your needs are small and you want something you can take with you, sure.  If you want to be able to pack your prosciutto, goat cheese, and dandelion on French bread sammich, your camp coffee setup, and a leather bound journal, mebbe not.  Actually definitely not.  I guess that's your problem, not mine.

I'll be the happy shirtless old dude on the Light Rail Path dinging my bell and side-eyeing you and your dog that's on a twelve foot retractable leash.  

Still happy tho.

Triple Dip '21: Part Two

Our journey to the final stage was beautiful.  Who knew what a web of trails and whatnot they had down there in South Carolina?  Everyone?

Some not so much trails tho:

Pop out in some neighborhood so we can fill our bottles at an outdoor dog wash station.

Back into the woods and we find ourselves at some crazy jump line built by twelve year olds (mebbe this happened before I got canine lupus from my water bottle?)

This little shredder kept us entertained.  While I wasn't up for trying the double that you had to duck into a ditch and under a fallen tree to hit, I found a steep hillside reminiscent to the old Devil's Drop at Poplar Tent that I had to go hit at least once.  I rolled down it, and then the little shredder decided he needed to give me some advice.

"You gotta let off the brakes."

After giving him the finger (behind his back), I said "C'mon, son. Follow me."

Ripped back to the top of the hill and went full send down the hillside to discover there's about zero rollout before you find yourself flying down the back and into the creek.

S.T.I.L. I swear.

Mebbe Bryan's picture is better but he has fat fingers

Thank you, Shimano, for making good dicks breaks.

And now on to the final stage.

Only I can screw this up now.  Kesean and the cross guy have been up in the points enough to make it so I can't stop being a tryer.  That and the fact that the scoring system was this random chip thing that I couldn't make sense out of at all.  I think the first one I got was green and had "dq" written on it.  At one point, someone handed me some chips that he said I was supposed to get for winning a couple stages earlier that I had no idea I'd not got already.  Then there's random chips for wheelies and jumps and general strange things to the point that I'm either winning at this point or I'm totally not.

Hmmm...

Stage Five

Everyone is lining up and tossing packs in the dirt.  I throw off my pack, then pitch my bottles... and after a few moments to consider it... my shirt.  It only takes a hot minute before the peloton joins in and it's a shirtless race. 

Kesean prescient enough to capture the moment.

We'd gotten a sorta incomplete course preview rolling into the start... something bridges but don't take them... or do(?), a pump house... one lap?

We go off and I'm just out front at the start.  Left at the pump house (what's a pump house?), out into the field... start climbing up.

There's a guy just standing there pointing to my left.  Doesn't feel correct, but I'm the guinea pig here... so I go left and down a drainage instead of a trail.  A few riders follow me and we scramble to get back to wherever it was we needed to be.

And then we pop out to a road and there is no one there.  Apparently, the marshal got confused with his lefts and rights and sent us totally the wrong way.  So here we are in this neighborhood none of us has ever seen... but then I see an outdoor St Patrick's Day party that we'd passed on the way to the trail... so mebbe we're going the right way (we're totally not).

Since I knew how to at least get back to where we started from where the party was, I led the shirtless pack past the house of revelers... which I'm guessing this was not something they were planning on seeing today. 

Back into the woods and on the course... bridge one (don't take it?)... bridge two (go through the creek?)...

and to the final creek crossing with no bridge that we were told would take a certain level of commitment and upon seeing it, a certain level of being Jeff Lenosky... and outta the woods for a final first place with Kesean taking another second.

From there, head back to town... stop for a beer... see my first "real" mountain bike (my third if you count a Giant Sedona and a Nashbar elevated stay nightmare)...

And then over to Hobo's for the awards and beer out on the lawn.

Even though I "won" four outta five stages, I still didn't know if this was going to come down to some kinda chip thing... and then it didn't and I won an award... and then there was a chip thing... and I won a goblet... and I'm pretty sure I accidentally traded my first award for a pint of beer... but I still retained the goblet.

Went on the mantle as soon as I got home, but mebbe I'll eat chili or oatmeal outta it at some point.

I sure do love these pointless events.  I wish there were more of them, but being that I helped put on six of them in the past, I realize they're almost harder than putting on a "legit" event.  It's one of the best ways to spend the day in the woods riding around with friends there is.  Thanks to those guys and gals who put in all the hard work, and I hope they squeeze out a few more before they eventually burn out.

R.I.P. Dirt Rag Punk Bike Enduro, Tour duh Charlotte, Wheels to the Farm, and Definitely Not Tour duh Charlotte (Tour duh Todd).

VIVA TRIPLE DIP.

Most photos cred: Mary Kaye Zugelder