Maybe Creed was ahead of their time...

I somewhat injured myself over the weekend while doing all the parts swapping between my bikes. While removing a pedal (or was it a crank?) I was leveraging myself in a precarious position with my thumb on one side of the chain stay and my forward momentum on the other. When the stubborn threads released the potential energy I was aiming in a poorly chosen direction I managed to snag my thumb on the stay as the rest of my hand dove freely past it, thus I ended up hyper-extending my thumb... the same thumb that was causing me problems last year. This makes me wonder if I wasn't doing something similar just a year ago, but since I don't blog about every injury I sustain while working on my bike (I do it quite often) I have no written record of such an event taking place.

I was going to stage a dramatic re-enactment of the incident last night while The Pie and Fajita were out and about. With the re-enactment caught on "film" I was then going to post it here so I could save myself from writing the above narrative. Why didn't I get around to it?

I had to head over to me mar's place.

No, I wasn't helping her pick out a new caravan, but it was time for the application of her pain patch which needs to be done every three days. This tiny little piece of plastic coated in some pain relieving drug has to be carefully adhered to her clavicular area. It comes in a tiny pouch that is hard to open, and it's stuck to no fewer than four pieces of plastic that require the manual dexterity of a person who can paint The Last Supper on a pinhead to sort it all out. That was the easy part.

She also let me know her sliding keyboard tray had fallen off her desk. The next hour and a half was spent trying to reassemble something that was never meant to be disassembled.

"No disassemble!"

Anyways I had to take the tray home and get out some real tools. I spent a decent amount of time chasing twelve ball bearings all over my hardwood floor (that eventually ended up being only six ball bearings), and bending and re-bending things that were riveted together in a manner that was intended to discourage any disassembly. Eventually I got it all (well most of it) back together and headed back to her place with a slightly less than perfect sliding tray.

So I when I got home I skipped the video and drank a beer instead. My apologies... you gotta have priorities.

To all you ISIS haters from yesterday:

I knew about the downsides of ISIS back in 2006 when I bought my Middleburn crank. I really wanted the Middleburn, but I didn't want a square taper crank as I was going with a Bushnell EBB on my new frame which requires occasional maintenance (disassemblage and grease), and since the crank has to come off to do that I was afraid of wearing out the taper (like what happened to me in the nineties with almost every square taper I had). Crank Brothers assured me their bottom bracket was "different" when I called them on the phone, and that they had thought theirs out, and it should last a long time. Well I guess it's the thought that counts.

Yes, now I have a standard BB shell and sliders, so a square taper woulda been nice at this point... had I never experienced how good a truly stiff crank feels.

I know XTR is sublime, and I think it's bearing preload is the best one of the bunch. Unfortunately they're like $400 on eBay, and you still have to buy at least one annoying proprietary tool that costs way too much for a hunk of steel. So for now it's Race Face, and we'll see what I can do for 2010.

God, writing about bottom brackets and cranks makes for some dull reading. I need to call George as he always makes talking about the finer points of ceramic VS steel bearings a little more pleasant (even if it annoys his better half to be in the same room hearing to idiots wax philisophic about bike parts).

Is Liz Hatch's dad....

photo cred: cyclingnews.com

really...

You tell me.

Cranksgiving (now with more stuffing)

I woke up late (for me) on Saturday and went about my business as usual... coffee, oatmeal, internet, enjoying the last few moments of peace before the family awakes. I needed to be ready to ride by 9:30, and I hadn't touched my bike since the Hush Hush ride (who would've wanted to?). I was counting on a quick wipe down and re-lubing of the chain, and I would be good to go bust out a lap at Sherman with Big Worm, Eric Van Driver, and camera man Stabby. I pulled the bike down, dropped it on it's rear wheel, and tried to roll it backwards so I could flip it upside down for lubage purposes. As the bike resisted my efforts and the rear wheel dragged on the hardwoods I realized something was amiss.

Something was locked up for sure. That meant a contaminated hub (not likely as I rebuilt it weeks ago), an over the top nasty chain (still not likely), or a bottom bracket that shoulda been replaced over two months ago finally gave up the ghost. Of course it was the bottom bracket as it had already shown signs of its demise awhile back. After a rainy ride in Durango it first started showing symptoms, and after a couple wet Pisgah rides back in October I had taken it out and repacked the reluctant non-drive side bearings (not recommended but I was looking to stretch out its lifespan). My painstaking efforts had only earned me another month of riding as the bottom bracket was siezed completely now. Since I had no time to properly address my issue I just turned the cranks with brute force until they freed up and spun them around to break up the rust and debris within.

That makes four ISIS bottom bracket down the tubes since January 2007.

The first Crank Brothers was warrantied since it didn't last very long at all (Jan 07-May07). The warranty replacement was pulled out prematurely as a victim of upgraditis when I bought the ceramic hybrid/ti spindle beauty on the right. Months went by and one La Ruta de los Conquistadores worth of salt water and pressure washers later the fancy BB died a horrible death. Ahhhh, then throw in a few months(Jan 08 to Mar 08 and Oct08 to May 09) of riding the yet to be named Zion (with external bearing Race Face cranks) which bought the warrantied Crank Brothers some time before it received its death sentence at the Dirt, Sweat, and Gears mudfest of 2009. I replaced it with another Crank Brothers which got me all the way to now (or a month ago when it shoulda been replaced in the first place). So that last one was good for all of maybe four months... meh. Quickly doing the math that means four ISIS BB's wasted in less than two years of actual riding time... more meh.

Last night I had work to do.

Stabby has always proved to me that the best thing about having more than one bike is the ability to steal parts from one to keep another going. Robbing the yet to be named Zion to pay the Meatplow as it were. I needed to get the fancy race wheels off the Meatplow anyways, so it was a good time to flip them both upside down and go to town.

New XT pedals procurred at the swap meet to save the Shimano pirate versions (XT Arrrrrrhhh) for next year. Bash guard? I didn't have any more proper length chainring bolts, so what's a boy to do? Black Flow rim equipped wheels mounted up with a much-better-than-a-worn-out-Crossmark Ignitor and a waiting-for-a-Kodiak (or a Dissent) to-replace-it Rampage up front. I went ahead and jammed the sliders as far forward as they can go to try to see if I can tell a difference between the l-o-n-g and short set up. Me thinks folks on MTBR will be dying to know which is better.

and because I can't stand seeing a dilapidated bike hanging on the wall....

I threw the Pheonix polished cranks on the yet to be named Zion to ensure that if for any reason I pull the Meatplow off the wall and something ain't working I at least have another last minute option.

Next year as racing "season" approaches I'll have to resolve the crank/BB issue. The taper on the Middleburns is wearing out, and I have to loctite the bolts to keep them tight (I assume the taper is the issue). I love the stiffness of the external bearing set up (just riding them in front of my house I was reminded how great they are), but I hate the resistance of the system... thus my resistance to the system. For now I could give a rat's ass, and I'm just happy to have a bike to ride that I really, really like.

BTW: Why am I keeping three absolutely wasted ISIS bottom brackets? I have no idea.

The Asheville fire fighter who tried to kill a cyclist WITH A GUN in front of his child got four months in prison. I feel much safer now... well, at least for the next four months. Read about it here.

Hey Dickhead!

It's that time of year. Beer with supper, beer after supper, followed by more beer. The dark skies and chilly air coming in through every crack in the house seem to be some sort of catalyst driving me to the fridge. My lackluster income and my current taste in beer are of an inverse proportion to my previous earnings and the standards I used to accept as acceptable. A decade ago my Cool 'n Fresh bin woulda been filled with Yuengling Light, but as Big Worm (rookie Charlotte messenger) says you can't unlearn once you've had the diggities. I concur. Can you say "Beer sponsor"? Theres something that could save me some money, especially in the "off season". I need a beer sponsor with a beer budget and performance based beer incentives

I wonder how Jake Kirkpatrick (former jolly elf turned skinny racer boy) keeps his girlish figure, what with his constant access to Fat Tire Ale and all the other New Belgium tasties.

#1 Bastard.

Last night I was listening to Jimmy Buffet in the shower. Wait... that didn't come out right. I was not lurking around outside Jimmy Buffet's window last night listening to him in the shower. What I meant was that I was in the shower and Jimmy Buffet was turned on... wait, that still sounds wrong. I was listening to the CD player since the radio reception was shit, and the only CD's in the bathroom were Jimmy Buffet or Magic Tree House . Since I was naked and too lazy to wrap a towel around me I decided to just listen to Mr Buffet while cleaning the day's nasty off of me. It got me to thinking....

Jimmy so moved the masses with his simple tunes that he has a cult following known as Parrotheads. Then I was thinking about the Grateful Dead and their followers known as the Dead Heads, and I realized I need a cult following if I ever wanna make it big time... then it came to me.

The Dick Heads.

Who wants in? I google searched some really sweet images looking for t-shirt ideas, but as you can imagine they were not very SFW, so I didn't bother posting them here. The best idea I had that didn't have an image of a penis on it would simply be:

Yes, I'm a Dick Head.
What's your excuse?

Of course Jimmy and Jimmy didn't go out and form the fan clubs, the fans did it themselves. So go ahead and get the t-shirts made, and I won't tell anybody it was my idea. Just cut me in on the proceeds, and everything will be copacetic.

BTW: Today's post was inspired by...

my phone.

Wet shit/Dry shit

My new messenger bag will be on its way from Hungary, Budapest today. Although I woulda hoped that my last bag woulda been my last bag EVER I felt like it was time to let it go.

The Team Dicky edition bag has worn out to the point where I feel it's time is over. Sadly it will soon join a few others that I've held onto from the past to use for road trips and brocerie runs. Holes in the top of the flap have rendered the bag sieve-like on rainy days, and I just have a hard time handing people wet packages.

I have thrown a lot of bags over my shoulder since I ran my first job back in1996, but they all had to go for one reason or another. My first bag was an all black Timbuk2. My employer at the time (City Bike) required that we leave our bags at the office every evening after our shifts and pick them up the next morning, so obviously when I left that job I left that bag behind. My next bag was another employer supplied Timbuk2 that I quickly outgrew. I was carrying too much bulky shit around that wouldn't fit in the bag, so I ordered a bigger one. Enter the Timbuk2 Tag Junkie.

The Tag Junkie was a great, simple bag. After a few years it was showing the signs of use, and I had to take a needle and thread to it quite often. When I asked Timbuk2 how they felt about replacing the bag with their lifetime warranty they asked me if I felt I had got a decent lifetime's use out of the bag... in other words, "NO free bag for you". I asked if I could get a new Tag Junkie at a discount, but they let me know they stopped making the Tag Junkie since it was only something like 1% of their sales, and the only people buying them were messengers. Really. So I bought the next size down they offered at a discount, hated it, sold it, and used the money to buy a Chrome Kremlin.

The Chrome was HUGE, and had some great features. The inner liner was not sewn in with the outer layers of the bag, so water had a hard time getting into it. Unfortunately the bag had a coupla big downsides. It covered my entire back, and in the summer I ended up getting a sweet case of bacne (back acne). Also when the bag was fully loaded the phone holder ended up on the back of my left shoulder which made answering the phone kinda difficult. I used the Chrome until the liner started to fall apart and then upgraded to a PAC Designs.

I spent a shitload of money on the PAC, something like $250. It was the best designed bag I had ever seen, but all three layers (thick outer cordura, truck tarp liner, and inner cordura) were sewn together which pulled water into the bag via the shared seam. I ripped the inner layer out of the bag which reduced the bags capillary action, but increased the rate of wear and tear on the tarp liner. The PAC Designs bag lasted the longest yet, but once I got frustrated with wet packages I let it go, and bought my first Bagaboo.

I loved my Bagaboo for a whole bunch of reasons, but mostly because the guy behind the bags (Tamas) doesn't mind adding little custom touches. The Team Dicky Edition bag only lasted two years though, as the outer layer of cordura wore through (which is a first on any bag I owned). I contacted Tamas to give him some feedback on the bag, and he informed me that he had upgraded the outer layer to a "better, tougher Cordura". Since I was kind enough to send him feedback instead of anger and demands he offered me a discount on a new bag.

I took him up on it. Even though things at work currently suck, and my job is probably teetering on the brink as much as anybody's I decided it was worth the investment. I added a few new features to the bag, and got rid of the ones I found superfluous on my old one. The vanity plate flap is gone. I just couldn't justify the expense this go around, and I have to admit I'm kinda sick of myself being that I'm everywhere I look now. Instead I got some blinkie mounts where they make sense and an entirely incognito black color scheme so I can blend in at hipster conventions.

Gone are the long straps to keep the bag closed when loaded. They hardly got used, and they just kept snagging on hooked door handles causing an occasional clumsy exit from time to time. I've got a short piece of webbing that hooks onto any of the four D-rings to keep it closed if I need it. Once again I left off the main flap closure velcro as it stops working after the first year of real messenger use on any bag.

Last but not least.... an exterior water bottle holder since the Fastest Bike in the World has zero water bottle mounts.

I have to admit that in almost the same amount of time I've been working uptown Big Worm has had only two bags (that I remember). While our time in the bush only differs by a year or so, and he's brilliantly figured out a way to make full time pay with part time work for the last mess of years he's soldiered on with that same bag for over a decade. It looks more like a worn out blue potato sack with a piece of webbing stitched to it, but it is the oldest bag in the Queen City that has seen daily use. I asked him the other day how he keeps his shit dry, and he said "I don't". Dumbfounded by his smart reply I probably changed the topic of conversation to the war in Afghanistan or something less controversial. I must say I envy his conviction, but definitely not his wet shit.

Cross, animation, caps, and ice boobs

There was another Outlaw Urban Cyclocross race last weekend. My back and legs were kinda wasted from my lame effort at the Hush Hush Ride, so I didn't bother racing. I did ride over to watch and try out the new course, and I was not disappointed. Although the cops showed up and delayed the start by asking everybody to leave the private property we were using in a public manner the racers all returned thirty minutes after the official shoo'ing mandated by "the man".

One may wonder just how the series came to fruition. Luckily Kevin Thompson did some sleuthing and found some spy footage (or perhaps a dramatic recreation) documenting the birth of the series.


The course had a few decent steeps on it that forced me to nut up and eventually try them when no one was around. Eventually I got comfortable on the drop-ins, so maybe I'll be up for some more racing in a couple weeks. Yes, I have a strong desire for a real cross bike (maybe even with a brake or two)...

photo cred: Big Worm

In the money well spent arena...

My Walz cap is turning two years old this month.

No hat of mine has lasted this long and spent as much time in the rotation as my wool Walz cap. The only other hat that sees even close to the same amount of time on my head is my Twin Six cotton cap (made by who?... Walz) as it is a better choice for casual summer wear. My wool Walz has been shoved under a helmet and abraded by the on again/off again helmet action that is common place when you have to protect your head while making a living but not while sitting in a lobby waiting for a package. It's just absolutely, hands down one of the best things I've thrown money at in the last decade.

I'll admit that $25 seems like a lot to throw at a hat. All my other cycling hats were either free, bargain bin purchases, or too cool to pass up for full retail ($6). Then again, all my other cycling hats are lying in a pile on a shelf with broken brims, holes worn in them, or splitting at the seams. Even though the wool Walz has an almost absolute go-to status during the colder/wetter months it has held up with flying colors, but despite all these positive traits it is still only worthy of my....

Seal of Semi-Approval

Why only Semi-Approval? Being a wool hat I have to wash it separately (by hand) instead of just tossing it into the machine. Being a very lazy messenger who hates the "Life, death, and in between... maintenance" mentality I probably don't wash it as often as I should. My hat currently smells a bit like a bum, but when doused by rain it goes to "full bum" status. When I do get around to washing it the water turns a brown color that is just two shades under a proper glass of chocolate milk. I guess this is no fault on the part of Walz, but being that I am an American I have to blame someone else for my problems (or go to war with them), so who else do I have to blame? Well, there's always Al Qaeda...

Wanna make someone happy this Christmas? Don't drop the Christmas ball and buy them an erotic ice tray this year (but if you've already bought one please contact me for a shipping address as my ice maker is broken). Instead give them the gift that keeps giving warmth, happiness, and good looks. Buy a Walz cap and support the American Made Cap Industry Association of America.

Disclaimer: Walz does not endorse the endorsements of Bad Idea Racing's endorsements, but they did give me free shipping. Doh, everybody gets that.

One night in Bangkok

My friend Mike Stanley passed by my house the other day. I knew him back when he was just the guy running the Wake and Bake Racing Team, but now he's up to his neck in the bike industry rep'ing for Niner. He was passing through my town, and I insisted he stop by for some grubbery and an old fashion BS session. As intrigued as I am by bicycles in general I also find the bicycle industry rather fascinating, and I had yet to have a long conversation with him since he started his new job on the "inside".

He had a few demo bikes on the back of his truck, and lurking inside was the not to be ridden or touched for more than five seconds at a time carbon Niner. Attached to the front of said carbon Niner was the carbon fork I've been staring at all year.

I'm not sure that this fork is in my future anymore since I've vowed to keep my bike purchases a little more based on need as opposed to want. Even though Pete-unh spews forth some hate on this fork I think it's just so he can keep his status as a curmudgeonly Canadian.

The bike had the new Thomson seatpost clamp (another want over need type purchase I planned), and I tried to snap a photo of it, but I suck, and my photoshop abilities are even worse, so here's what you get:

Speaking of clamps, one of the demo bikes had a pink Salsa clamp on it, and being logically attracted to pink parts I asked Mike about it. "Wanna trade?" he asked.

Sure.

I was also stoked to see that there was a fine Cane Creek headset installed up front. Amazing how many standards there are in the headset world nowadays. Don't know what you need for your new bike? Use the Cane Creek Headset Fit Finder to figure it out.

Is there anything to this tapered madness?

I remember when 1 1/8 headsets came out prepared to take over the world, and I thought threadless was a scary concept. Now there's just enough headset options that "What headset do I need for my 29'er?" is a weekly topic of discussion on the MTBR 29'er forum.

Back at Interbike Niner only had a mock up of their head badge on the new carbon frame. I have now seen the final version, and all I can say is "Seriously?".

At least make the cast bottle opener headbadge an option for the single speed folk. What single speeder worth his salt buys a frame without a bottle opener snuck into the design in some cunning manner?

After I poked and prodded the frame completely Mike and I went to lunch. One might wonder what a Ti guy like me would be doing poking around at some frame from a manufacturer other than one from my frame sponsor. One might start thinking up some conspiracy theory... maybe Niner is trying to nab me away in some extended multi year contract like Specialized did with Contador. Am I swapping teams? Giving up the magic metal? Leaving the people of MOOTS high and dry with no star athlete for 2010? No, I'm just a bike geek and I like to look at bikes. Nothing more than that. Our play date was just a play date, and lunch was just lunch.

I like Mike, and I love hearing stories from the bike industry side of things (even when they are told by grumpy Canadianicans). I've always been fascinated by "the industry", and one day I hope to retire to a job somewhere inside it's warm belly... like maybe head floor sweeper at Industry Nine , or coffee maker at Cane Creek, or perhaps seatpost shaft polisher at MOOTS?? The bike world is my oyster, and even though I don't like oysters I feel comforted by the fact that the bike world is a slimy creature hidden within a hard to penetrate shell that offers very little reward for a lot of effort and will more than likely leave me with a bad taste in my mouth.

"Aye, this is my oyster."

Hush Hush or Bust

"I'll take Bust for $1,000 Alex."

I showed up at the designated rendezvous point in the Pisgah National Forest Friday night. I was one of the late arrivals as most of the locals had already established their camps and were relaxing around the campfire. I picked up a cue sheet for the ride and then got to work readying my tent so I could hopefully be in bed by 10:00pm. After getting my shit straight I found myself in wrapped up in conversation with a few others trying to gauge the difficulty of the ride.

The route was chosen by Clay Faine and was going to take us over some of the best trails in Pisgah with a total distance of 99.9 miles and around 29,000 feet of climbing. That is not a typo... around 29,000 feet of climbing. Estimated saddle time was anywhere around 15 to 24 hours according to the fireside pundits. I was the idiot who thought 15 hours was shooting on the high side. I was basing my opinion on all my experiences at this now familiar distance and the 2008 PMBAR where Elk and I covered 100+ miles in a little over 12 hours (but on a much easier, more gravely route). Yes, I was an idiot.

I set my alarm for 4:00am as most of the riders were supposed to start at 5:00am. When I woke up and heard murmurs around my tent I was quite shocked to find out that I had slept through my alarm, and it was now 4:59am (seriously, one minute before I was supposed to head out). I went into scramble mode, and there was a flurry of action inside my diminutive two man tent. Chilled by the morning air I panicked and stuck a bunch of warm clothing in my Ergon pack thinking the temps could drop even more when the second darkness of night came some twelve hours later. I decided that my breakfast would be consumed on the first gravel climb of the day, and I almost forgot to grab my gels during my hasty exit. Luckily when I went back to my tent for my gels I found them nestled next to my That Butt Stuff chamois cream reminding me to lube up my rear end before heading out. I threw on my overloaded pack (25lbs+) and left the campsite at 5:29 behind just about everybody else.

From this point I may refer to "catching riders" or "passing riders", but please understand this was not a race. It was just a bunch of idiot friends going out for a ridiculously long ride at their own pace on the same day. There was no competition going on, and I am just mentioning them as impersonal reference points.

I finished up my organic toaster pastry as the climb started to punch up into the darkness on Clawhammer. I looked for lights ahead of me and above in the surrounding mountains, but I saw nothing. As best as I could I reminded myself that this was an all day ride, but I couldn't help but feel a bit hurried as I climbed up to the gap. Towards the end of the gravel climb I caught up to Sissy (or maybe Emily, I'm still getting my facts straight), and after a short "hello" we parted ways. I was really hoping that I coulda started my day with some others just to enjoy some camaraderie, but it looked like I was gonna be alone for most of the day. I was wrong.

On the hella hike-a-bike over Black Mountain I caught up to Nick the Stick, an anonymous (in the dark) rider, and Mike Brown, but shortly thereafter we drifted apart and their lights slowly disappeared behind me. I passed Clay Faine who had the contents of his pack spread out on a rock apparently having an impromptu yard sale. I purchased nothing from Clay's Pisgah Flea Market, and when I got to the top of Black Mountain I saw one of the most absolutely stunning sunrises I've ever seen (honestly), and I began my descent down to the Turkey Pen intersection happy and slightly warmer. When I got there Brad Kee (Double Dare, PMBAR, and The Most Horrible Thing Ever winner) and Matt Fusco (Brad's partner from said Double Dare) were standing around, so when they headed out I followed their lead down Turkey Pen.

Turkey Pen is an exciting descent (with a bit of up) on any regular given day. Cover it with leaves and ride it with a Crossmark that I mounted back in April and things can get dicey. This...

should look like this...

I slid down the trail more than I woulda thought possible and looped the back end around the front more than once. I tried to stay with Brad Kee and Matt Fusco, but their skills and suspended parts kept me at a distance on the downhills. I would re-establish contact on the intermingled climbs only to lose them again as soon as the trail went down.

When we popped out into the parking lot and headed towards South Mills I found myself riding with and around Brad and Dave "Beefcake" Cook. Honestly, this was not the company I was looking to keep. I've already mentioned Brad's palmares, and Beefcake was the only other person to survive the first very wet edition of The Most Horrible Thing Ever. I was riding with two not so little engines that most definitely could. There was no doubt that they were in for the long haul, but I was hoping to be in a little less aggressive company.

We went back and forth with each other until Squirrel Gap, and it was there that I lost them for awhile. This normally technical treat was testing my ability to stay upright, and I ended up smashing my goodies on a not so graceful dismount. I usually enjoy Squirrel, but I was happy to see it over with as I hit the gradual climb up South Mills River Trail headed to Pink Beds.

I finally felt alive again, and passed Brad and Beefcake. I caught up to SSlohio Rob who had gotten an earlier start, chatted him up, and then left him behind as I was "enjoying" my chosen gear for the day. Once I got to Pink Beds I kept the pace lively, and for the first time I checked the mileage on the cue sheet and checked my watch to gauge my progress.

Shit.

By the time I got to Pink Beds I had only gone 27 or so miles in five and a half hours. I extrapolated that out and realized that at this pace I was looking at a 20+ hour day. I was not prepared for that in many ways... mental stamina, fitness, lights, and nutrition (in my rush I had forgotten my emergency dollar bills for the vending machines at the hatchery). I thought I could handle a fifteen hour day in the saddle, but twenty hours or more would definitely be way more than I had bargained for when I decided to do this ride.

I signed the check-in slip at the Pink Beds trailhead and saw that Zach BrouSSard had already been there. He had planned on a 2:00am start or something like that, so I expected him to be out there somewhere ahead of me, but I didn't think I'd be the next one through (edit: he started at 4:00am and made it much further than I did). I sat down, ate a PB&J, and assessed my situation. If I were to continue at this pace I would be out for over twenty hours. Even if I had the desire to hold out that long I'd be up against the limits of my lights and food. If I continued on the chosen route I'd be 40+ miles in at the next bailout point and still hours away from my car.

Meh.

I decided to climb the two and a half miles up to the Parkway and make the call when I got there. As I climbed I was putting more distance between me and the car, but I felt like I wanted to see the Parkway whether I was going to continue or not. Once I got there I sat down, broke out some warm clothes, and quit 30.61 miles in. I waited for Beefcake and Brad to show up so I could distribute my remaining PB&J's to the more worthy riders. They accepted my offer, and I turned around and went back down the road. I saw SSlohio coming up and stopped to talk to him. He said he was going to bail, but much later on in the ride, so I gave him my last PB&J before heading back.

I ran into Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever, Mike Brown, Clay Faine, and Sissy in the Pink Beds parking lot. Clay said he was stilling planning to go the whole distance, but the rest of the group was planning an early exodus. They tried to convince me to climb back up to the Parkway and at least go down Big Creek, but that would put me even further away from happiness (my car). I told them I was going home and spending the rest of the day with my family, and so I bid them adieu and rode back down 276 with my head hung low.

Am I disappointed? Dunno. Had I known that the route was gonna take that long I doubt I woulda even showed up. This is the time of year for short rides full of fun, not long rides full of despair. Except for my experiences at La Ruta I've never fared very well pushing my limits this late in the year, and I don't plan on extending my fitness much past the time when leaves fall outta the trees. I had a pretty cool experience, for what it's worth, and I think I learned a little (very little) about myself.

According to Facebook sources Brad Kee was the only finisher in a time of @ 22 hours. Way to go Brad, and I officially have NO regrets now. That's just nuts.

BTW: Congrats to Manny Prado and LaRuta Louise Kobin for winning that little race that ended over the weekend.