To be expected from a Van Buren Boy...

Changed the old header at the top of the page again.  Partially outta boredom.  Somewhat due to being sick of looking at the same, now dated image.  Mostly, an acknowledgment of the passage of time.

A sheriff down at the courthouse asked me recently, "you ride one of them bikes without brakes?"

And I had the same conversation I realized I've had for over two decades now.

More than twenty years ago, I took the brake off my converted-to-fixed, semi-horizontal dropped DeBernardi road bike.  It was around the same time that I decided to sell my last geared bike (at the time, an Ellsworth Id) and fully commit to the single speed life by buying a custom Spicer frame to replace my Planet X dirt jumper converted to SS mountain (but def not a jumper)... you know, my "lifer."

I thought that diving into a single speed only life meant no more endurance type events for me after a multi-year deep dive into 12/24 hour racing a couple years previous.  I'd seen Steve Fassbinder aka "Doom" walking around the 2001 24 Hour Solo World Championships with his Mad Max extras/Burning Man club entourage, and all I could think was if that's what it takes to be an endurance single speeder, I ain't it.  That's just what my brain told me.  I was only thirty four years old, so my brain was either still developing or in sharp decline.  Dunno.

Then I did ORAMM and won the SS category, thought "why not a stage race because it looks like no one has ever done that" so La Ruta, and then I was hooked on doing any and all the stupid things.

Turns out, I was pretty okay at bikes (even stupid luddite bikes) after all, sans the animal skin vest, spiked boots, and pilot goggles.  I was a "tryer."  I won some things.  Over time, I slowly added to my palmarès... albeit no other other than me (and mebbe my mom) was keeping track.  

Twenty some years later, it's getting harder and harder to remember when I used to mebbe be slightly better than pretty okay, but it did happen from time to time, but only some (very few) moments stick out.  One of the reasons I started my results page years ago was because I knew I'd have trouble remembering all the things.  Now when someone asks me "didn't you do such and such?"  I know the answer (if I have an Internet connection). 

So anyways, "I used to be pretty okay at bikes."

Now I can say that to myself when I'm climbing up a mountain a little slower than I used to or mebbe touching my brakes more frequently and mebbe more passionately on the descents than I'd like to in the name of saving my body parts for future fun down the road.  It's comforting to know that while I might've possibly slipped from being "pretty okay," I'm still clinging hard to the lukewarm realm of just okay.

I'm totally content with okay at fifty six.  Some people don't get to enjoy that, and I'm truly blethed (although it still takes a decent amount of effort to remain at this moderate level)...

and honestly, I think I'm fitter this July than I have been in years.  

So...

Oh yeah.  If Horny Cat is gonna happen (decision to be made when I get back from Breck), it's gonna be September 27th.

'25 Summer (literal) Steamer

I'm gonna use my experience at the Summer Steamer in Knoxville this past weekend to do a little Share the Wisdom Wednesday (but on a Thursday) throwback post, but first...

I didn't start visiting the Knoxville area until the Covid days back when the boom booms fell.  

I was immediately smitten.  I think I went back three or four times, but then I've fallen off on my visits since going back to reality.  Any dreams of visiting last year for the AMBC Bike Fest were knocked back when Helene significantly increased the drive time by force-feeding the Pigeon River a significant portion of I40.

Anyhoo, the Steamer was my chance to do something I've wanted to do ever since staring at the massive trail system on Trail Forks and planning routes almost five years ago, to ride all (well most of) the things.  I'd get to see frands, ride a butt load of incredible trails with a variety of "feels," and just enjoy the hangout of a long day on the bike and post-ride festivities.

The Summer Steamer did not disappoint.  I personally might have tho.

Scott Smith, owner of Tennessee Valley Bikes and also Head Steamer and also my '19 12 Hours of Santos duo partner and also fun hang guy in general.

I wanted to be just off the back of the local fasties and mebbe find myself in a group of Knoxvillians that would keep me rolling and not so much navigating the route with the aid of my Wahoo data acquisition device.

That's Evan leading us out after Scott started us with a shrug and a smile at 8:01am.  Scott had told me the day before that I should follow Evan.  I had no idea I was following him all day long, but Scott was right about all that. 

I fortunately and mebbe unfortunately latched onto the back of about fifteen fast locals who not only made quick work of the trails but were also willing to prioritize their day accordingly.

The beer and also mebbe other things stop at mile twenty or so at about 10:00am.  Notice the moisture on my lens?  I'd vowed to do a better job documenting this ride, but between my sweat and a layer of waterproof Otter Box between me and my phone, I struggled to get my camera to work with the touch of a finger, nose, knuckle, elbow... all the body parts.  It might as well been raining out there. 

The first official aid station was at mile twenty nine or so and the next one was mebbe mile forty.  Somewhere in between, half the wheels fell of my bus.

Me, doing nothing... but making mistakes at Aid One like it was my job.  Apparently, thirty miles and over three hours of riding... and I've drank what looks like a bottle and a half.  Trbl.

I started thinking about the sweaty fever dream I had the night before where I thought I was in heaven but I got there in a '70s car driven by a guy who looked homeless and I was dressed the same and we got out of the car and walked around in nothingness and he told me I just had to believe or I'd end up back in the car and I didn't believe so I ended back up in the car with him and also another guy dressed like us and the car stopped again and we once again stepped out into nothingness and this time I told myself this dream sucks and I woke up and wiped the sweat off my forehead...

Nobody likes hearing about someone's dream but a mini-Share the Wisdom Wednesday (but on a Thursday) might be don't follow up a few post-long drive beers by eating a burrito, a basket of tortilla chips, and several mini-tubs of salsa at 8:00pm chased by a couple more beers and go to sleep in a strange bed at 10:00pm thinking you're not gonna have fever dreams.

I was feeling more than just a bit off.  We stopped to regroup (which was getting easier as our numbers fell off steadily), and I happened to notice that my heart was beating like a big bass drum just standing there.  Swap my Wahoo data acquisition device from maps to data and.. 

Shit.

Am I dying?

My heart rate is in the high 150s just standing still, and it's not coming down.  I wanted to google if a high heart rate was a symptom of heat stroke, but I'd have to bust open my Otter Box with a coin I don't have just to do it.  Poop.

It took some googling, but this is the exact place I was on Transfarm when I was pretty sure I was dying or something.

From there, I struggled to focus on the trail, and was also quite distracted by my condition and possible premonition'ish dream the night before.  I figured I would sort my world out at the next aid station... probably... or not.

Down at the aid station, I put ice down the back of my bibs, grabbed multiple Freeze Pops, and went prone in the grass where I could watch the Wahoo data acquisition device from a distance, hoping to see my heart rate field go from orange to mebbe yellow hopefully green and wishing for blue.  I told some of my compatriots that I might be on my own journey from here, so it was no surprise that when I finally looked and saw blue... they were rolling on up the hill.  Poop.

Grab my shit and make chase... up the steepest (IMHOMO) climb of the day.  My heart rate was closer but still higher to my perceived effort than before, so I decided as long as I could keep it there, I'd be fine.  Our groups is down to six now, and I'd hate to leave them (and all their local knowledge) so close to the finish.  It was a struggle bus to the end, but the six of us managed to stay together.

So.  Good.

Many beers, hot dogs (sans bun, some veggie), high fives, and proper beverages followed.

So, my Share the Wisdom Wednesday (but on a Thursday) bit.

Me at the start wondering how many wrong things can I do today.

I can remember two times when I was way younger, had no Wahoo data acquisition device, and went way too hard in the heat.  At the '10 ORAMM and the '09 Cowbell Marathon (where the real feel got up to 114°), I ignored blatant warning signs up until I felt like a firecracker went off in my head.  Like I said, I was way younger back then, and I was also slightly better than okay at making great bike race.  I had performance-based expectations, and I allowed them to sway my decision making into the bad zone.  I was an idiot.

I hear the "but did you die?" comments from the crowd, especially the chest-thumping, sissy-purse boy hating, jingoistic, stand back but stand down folks who wear their masculinity on their brown shirt sleeves.

No, I didn't.  

That said, in these hotter conditions, do yourself a few favors.  Listen to your body.  Take advantage of any way to keep yourself cool.  At the first aid station, I skipped the Freeze Pops, didn't take a Super Soaker load to the face, didn't shove ice down my bibs, didn't sit down in the shade while I waited for everyone to regroup at aid station one, drank nothing but room temperature (outdoor temperature) liquids, also probably coulda wore lighter colors and my non-black helmet...

I know the local weatherman has been taking great joy in shouting out "beat the heat" tips lately, but if you're like me, you might assume that you're an "athlete" and have the bases covered.

I also know some of you are saying "who watches local weather?"

Whatever.  Take care of yourselves... regardless of your political stance or if you think I'm a purse-carrying sissy boy.  I care about you too... because that's how being human works.

Or at least it should.

The Horny Cat 69: Still Not Brought to You by Mutual of Omaha

Okay.  It's official.  I want to voluntarily make my life difficult for awhile and make great'ish bike ride for others.

The date will be October 4th, with a rain date of October 11th*.  Some things will change from when this grand occasion occurred two years ago.  Other details will be the same.  There will most definitely be a hangout after the ride. I would love it IMMENSELY if you could donate $13 to the pizza/beer/soda fund, because a hangout without pizza/beer/soda is dumb.

"THIRTEEN AMERICA DOLLARS, YOU SAY!?!"

Yeth.  The cost of this non-event has gone up $3, or approximately 1/2 the cost of a reasonably priced pint of decent beer in Charlotte.  I have "reasons."  Mostly, I think if you were okay with the potential of throwing away $10, you're probably okay with $13... keeping in mind if it rains or the trails are closed on October 4th AND on October 11th, I might just end up with a sad ride/party on the 11th or donate all the money to the Tarheel Trailblazers as opposed to just the proceeds after all expenses are paid for (excluding incurred on any trips I may or may not make to the emergency room).  So mostly because of that and a little bit because 13 is funny like 69.

It's a charitable donation to a party, and as I said back in 2023:

"I have a hose if you're thirsty because I literally can't stop any cheapskate party-hater from joining us on a bike ride. This is America, and you have all the rights to do all the things you think you can do."

And sadly, despite me once saying "all the rights to do all the things," this is America two years later.  I'd like to exclude certain unspeakable things that have been brought to my attention lately.  Mebbe ask me if how I feel before you do something in my backyard that borders on rights-trampling.  If you find yourself thinking, "what unspeakable things does he speak of?" this might not be the right party for you.  That would include illegal "deportations" and "detentions," taking food out of children's mouths, possibly kicking my mom out of a nursing home, squashing LGBTQ rights, taking away my daughter's ability to make decisions about her own body, or more generally speaking, fucking around with someone else's life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness because you're afraid of some boogeyman you heard about on a not-news channel... a boogeyman that is currently not the source of your real problems now anyhow... **

Poaching the route and/or horking a beer are low on my list of offensive actions.

*pushes soapbox back in the closet but keeping it handy*

The ride will start and end near the Back Yard Tails system @9:00am to give you a general idea that you can sorta plan around (think about showing up @7-45-8:00am), but the exact information will be in an email, and obvs I'm gonna need you to get there much earlier than the start time to sort yinz out.  It will be a Ride With GPS route, so know how to load things on your data acquisition device and follow bleeps and bloops.

Donations.  I'm not collecting them yet, so please don't send an email to the address from last time nor Venmo me party/donation fundage right now.  I'm going to wait until I get back from Breck Epic in mid-August for two reasons:

I need to live through the Breck Epic.

I don't want the hassle of dealing with the "can I give you cash on the day-of?" or "can I pay you half now and half when I get my settlement money?" messages until then.

The route is 95% done, but I'm leaving room for tweaks.  

This will be a good time, if you're into this kinda thing.  If not... why did you even read down this far?

Off to the Summer Steamer in Knoxville this weekend, and I will surely return to regale all with tales of derring-do and misadventure. 

* Crap.  I might have created a conflict... might need to change the dates to Sep 27th, rain date Oct 11th.

** If Brawley's can pre-sort their clientele, so can I.