Bad Idea Racing

It's on like so much Pong

2012-01-31T07:33:00.004-05:00

Final score?
Pisgah: 111
You: 0

Well, it's officially official. The Pisgah 111K MTB Race is on.

The permits are no longer pending. The permits have been permitted. The registration is up (here or here). The numbers are limited. First come, first two hundred served.

This race will be hard. Achievable by those that consider themselves mortals, but definitely a ball buster of a race (ovary buster for the women's field). Am I stoked to be pumped about being pumped to be stoked for this race?

I guess so.

Training starts today.

I don't really know what that means, but I'm wearing my chamois 24-7 until the event.

It's my favorite shirt anyhoo.

Yes, there are other races in the Southeast scheduled for the same day. After many talks with Eric "111k Honcho" Wever, I have once again found a deeper understanding of race promotion. A lot of thinking, rules, calendars, organization, bureaucracies, agencies, and whatnot go into putting a race on the schedule. So many factors to consider when selecting a date for your event.

Eric said "Fuck that" and threw a dart at the wall.

I kid.

So race for 12 hours on buff trails or do yet another NUE race. That's fine, if that's your thing.

Just don't hate the waiter.

Hate the menu.

Remember, he can touch your food...

with his balls.

Icycle success: I lived to live another day

2012-01-30T06:53:00.005-05:00

Another Icycle behind me, and I'm glad I went along for the ride. Although the "results" do not reflect a successful weekend of bike racing, everything in between was pretty sweet.

Zac and I arrived a little late to the party on Friday. 10:00PM shouldn't be considered too late, but when the party started at 2:00PM, there would be some catching up to do.

Party symmetry on the front porch at 27°.

There were some sad moments. A beer shortage occurred at some point that could only be solved by the arrival of Kurt and Gwyn. Jon Danger Evans lamented his temporarily empty coozie with a single face palm.

But then the evening went back on as planned and not.

Breck Epic shirt, Trans-Sylvania Epic hoodie, Epic evening.

There were two bathrooms in the three bedroom cabin. There were twenty bathrooms outside the three bedroom cabin.

photo cred: Jon Danger Evans

When I woke up, I could not find my keys or my cellphone. The keys were in a crack of the couch I sort of slept on, but after at least an hour of frantic searching, I could not find my phone. I looked in the coolers, the trash, the fridge, under and on top of everything, and several places I never went in the cabin. I had all but given up hope, and then miraculously it appeared...

in Kurt's pocket.

Registration hangover, lost valuables, lung butter from a cold that won't let me go, below freezing temps, an unorganized duffle that has been tossed and shuffled in multiple mad attempts to find my phone, farts that smelled like a burnt baby doll, a certain lack of desire to eat, the regrettable decision to preregister thus forcing my hand to race when I feel like three sacks of shit shoved into one proper shitbag.

I watched the first wave of racers go off around 11:00AM on an empty and very angry stomach.

photo cred: Eric Wever

In between the throbs in my head, I managed to spectate, cheer, get my shit together, eat something, and kit up for our 1:00PM start.

The race started LeMans style (running to the bikes)...well, at least the guys in front of me were running. I was dropped immediately by 90%+ of the field, and when I looked over my shoulder, I only saw two guys lollygagging behind me. Shit.

My nose felt like I had been snorting the corrosion off an old car battery and my throat was pinched down to a fourth its normal size and dry as the West Texas wind. My off the back start put me way further back then I wanted to be, so I put in a solid effort...

solid for something like ten minutes...

photo cred: Eric Wever

and then I dropped back into obscurity for the rest of the race.

I did manage a finish of sorts with some people in front of me and the rest behind me.

I immediately hopped on the next shuttle to the top of the DH course in my skinsuit of awesome. I don't remember anybody else wearing a skinsuit in the back of the U-Haul truck. Fools.

I took three practice runs and then headed back to the cabin, content in the knowledge that the course did indeed go in a downhill manner from top to bottom.

The night downhill race? Everything is different in the dark. I did not have a very clean run. I came unclipped in the air on the step-up root cluster jump and lost my shit once to the point of coming to almost a dead stop. Shit. The Extreme Tomato still crushed my time and he took the time to roll around in the dirt for 5-7 seconds. Shit once more.

But I lived.

At the awards, something got screwed up. They tried to give me third place in the XC race, and then called my name again for second place. I had to explain that not only was I not in third, I was most definitely not traveling with my clone who coulda taken second as well. I handed my schwag bag to Timmy and Zac and let them sort the placings out.

Then there was more beer, multiple fires, a drunk spectator that could no longer stand, a drunk person vomiting off a front porch, scissor fighting, a dance-off, wrestling, party searching, non-party finding, and movie reviews.

Later on, I did spend the rest of the night trying to sleep on the floor while hacking up a lung, but you'll have that.

Wake up to more frost and a mess to clean up,

and then the drive home wondering how many years it will be before I once again return to the Icycle.

My emotions are anything but in motion

2012-01-27T07:22:00.003-05:00

One week into my "new" job.

Funny, but things don't seem that different than they were seven days ago. Then again, this never happened at my old job:

The Icycle is tomorrow. I am ready...

as far as Brocery shopping goes.

Word to the wise. Never buy beer and chips more than one day out from departure unless you buy twice as much beer and chips than you actually need.

I've been sick for the last week, not "I can't get outta bed" sick, not "walking dead" sick, just "coughing, sneezing, aching, stuffy-head so I can lay awake" sick. This should bode well for the upcoming festivities, and it certainly won't limit my ability to make great bike race.

I am signed up for the single speed class for the cross country race tomorrow afternoon, and as long as I can keep from straying down the dark path to destruction, I should be racing in the Hard-Ass class for the night downhill. I would love to blather on and on and on about the race, but since I spent last night fixing a steam cleaner, my morning is now dedicated to packing my riding clothes, lights, edible underwear, and tiara.

It will be that kinda race.

How motivated am I? Not very. Instead of my usual Rob Zombie get-angry shower music, I have been bathing to the tunes of none other than Billy Squier. Hardly the music to set me off into the freakin' outer space of anger, but that's the kinda mood I'm in.

Somebody please tell me why Billy Squier's 16 Strokes does not include Lonely is the Night?

Seriously? We get his later in life, weaksauce Love is a Hero and his self admitted, career-ending, sexually ambiguous, voted worst video of all time, Rock Me Tonite

but no Lonely is the Night?

Lonely is the night
When you find yourself alone...

Listening to Rock Me Tonite and enjoying it.

You might want to shield your eyes

2012-01-26T07:15:00.003-05:00

Last week I cheated you out of the Wednesday Retro Dick Pic of the Week on Wednesday. I promised to double up at the next opportunity.

Yesterday was that opportunity, and I failed. Like big time failed, like Peter failed.

With the recent spike in traffic after the gratuitous Dirt Rag link and the subsequent yet predictable fall in traffic, I now feel like it's just us again. I feel safe to share my past with you, and nobody else but you.

Spring Break 1989 (I think)

Those are spandex shorts. I wore them... in public... a lot... probably when my Jams were dirty. Also of note, that shirt is proof that I represented Youngstown State University at the Ohio Schick Super Hoops 3 on 3 tournament. Sure, my friends and I only got to "represent" because the guys who actually won the qualifier at YSU decided they didn't want to get up at 4:00AM to attend. Leave it to four quick thinkers sitting at a bar at 2:00AM to realize they could just stay up and make the drive to Columbus and show the rest of the world what the second string Atomic Dawgs could do.

Three white guys and a Filipino. We sucked. We only managed to score about ten points in two games, but I did get one tackle, so it was like a little victory for me.

This next one is just between you and me.

That's The Pie and I way before we finally made our love connection. Just to prove to you that I was into endurance events long before they were cool, we had been up late the night before attending a party at Sully's house. We got up early the next morning to be some of the first people in the gate for a once in a lifetime event. This picture was taken at the 12 Hours of Rock concert back in 1990 (if I had to guess). Foghat, Molly Hatchet, Steppenwolf, Bachman Turner Overdrive, Left End, Wicked Lester... good lord, I can't remember all the bands. If I looked hard enough, I'd probably be able to find the photo of the couple laying in the infield doing "it" about thirty feet away from us.

You wouldn't have wanted to see it anyways.

I wanted to look away, yet I was transfixed by its horrid glory.

I hope that fills the hole you had that needed a'filling.

BTW: Yesterday, Dirt Rag announced that they are THE presenting sponsors for the 2012 Trans Sylvania Epic.

L-R: Rich "Grape Ape" Straub, Josh "Dirt Rag Editor" Patterson, and myself.

This year I will not be so hungover on the day of the final stage that I can't participate in the final stage after the final stage (assuming I figure out a way to be in PA this June).

You know you wanna be there...

Full Metal Jersey

2012-01-25T07:19:00.007-05:00

I've noticed something lately. The prolific use of smartphone-type camera devices have brought to my attention the fact that I wear my Twin Six long sleeve jerseys quite frequently. My Deluxe LS from days of yore seems to be the go-to most of the time.

photo cred: Eric Wever

I wear it at work, probably 2-3 days a week.

photo cred: Big Worm

I wear it on local rides and epic misadventures in the mountains.

photo cred: Big Worm

I save my fancy pants Metal long sleeve for impromptu trail work,

photo cred: Don Butler

social occasions,

photo cred: Colt McElwaine

and to impress the ladies.

I can definitely say that my Deluxe LS has seen more wear than any other piece of cycling garb that I own. I know that wool is the wonder material, but there's something to the non-sagging rear pockets, full zipper capability, fleecy fabric happy that my long sleeve T6 jerseys provide that my wool doesn't offer.

I went back through the archives trying to figure out just how long I've owned my Deluxe LS, but Indiana Jones, I ain't. I just know it has kept me happy for years and years now, and it's definitely one of those pieces of gear that I wonder what I was wearing before I got it (like my first Gore Tex coat).

If you want one, you won't get one that looks just like mine since Twin Six updates things every year, but you can get this newer version of the Deluxe:

or this more white, more blue, more Motor:

Regardless off the fact that I love my long sleeve Twin Six jerseys, I still have to give them my

SEAL OF SEMI-APPROVAL

Why? Because they managed to make a piece of gear that has become so critical to my wardrobe that when I either lose it or wear it out, it will feel like I lost a part of me. That, and there is no optional matching cape.

Will I be sporting Twin Six in 2012?

This should answer that question and many other mysteries:

Today's programming was brought to you by the number 6.

Take this job and love it

2012-01-24T07:20:00.004-05:00

So, I finally get around to looking at all the awesome shots that Alex Hawn took at Sunday's short track race, and the only one I could find of me was taken during my "warm-up" lap...

with my puffy coat strapped to the bars, and apparently me trying to lick Alex as I flew through the air.

If you were racing, Alex probably got a shot of you, albeit with your tongue in your mouth and no puffy coats strapped to your bars. He didn't spend all day in the woods just beating on buckets, screaming, and ringing a cowbell. He took like a million pictures.

From Alex: "Pics of Race 2! Enjoy viewing them, consider purchasing them. For every purchase I will include Edited HQ versions. If you are a top 3 Finisher (in a class of more than 3) I will include a bonus images for you as well. Hope everyone enjoyed the World Cup Cheering Section I organized."

Day one at the new job is in the books. That is assuming someone keeps books on that sorta thing. That would be a boring collection of books.

I spent the whole day in training. Not just training... corporate training.

All the typical stuff, policies and procedures, computer stuff, confidentiality, dress codes, and a sexual harassment video.

Did you know that you should never touch a co-workers butt....

no matter what he's wearing?

Neither did I, but I got off with a warning.

Today I will have another coupla hours of benefits paperwork and such, and then I get to start working....

as a bike messenger.

It's a long story, but without getting into the boring details, I will be working directly for a client that I've been servicing for the past 14 years. There are some perks, some drawbacks, and some things that will just be the same old same old.

The important thing is that I'll still be doing a job that I love, a job that I think I was made to do, and a job that let's me wear a helmet and drop phat skids (not really). I'll have to shave more often, but if I cut myself while shaving, I think I get to take a sick day. I probably need to read the employee handbook a little closer.

One of the best things is that I won't have to go through the hassle of changing my header image.

With my training day behind me, I'll be retiring my training pants, or at least change their status to trail work pants.

So that's it. One door closed, another one opened, I walked in, I realized I was in the ladies room...

I can't believe they haven't fired me yet.

Race, work, dogs

2012-01-23T07:47:00.004-05:00

I rode out to the short track race yesterday. I jumped in the woods and did a quick lap when I got there. The what used to be a jump bump felt much better, but someone decided to move my rock next to the "gap" jump.

Apparently this rock was one too many. I guess there are only allowed to be so many rocks per lap, and this rock put the course over the legal limit. I looked all over for my rock in the surrounding area, even calling out for it.

"Here Rock, Rock, Rock!"

It was no use. The perpetrator had made sure that the rock could not be found. It might have been drowned in the nearby creek. Fortunately enough people enjoyed/preferred the "gap" line this week, regardless of the sanitized go-around, so I gave up my search.

I did "race" my bike, so to speak. I spent $28, mounted up a number plate...

photo cred: Mudman

and when someone said "Go!"... I did. I had a great time riding in circles, and the World Cup worthy fans made it interesting. A big thanks to Timmy for hanging back with me all day instead of mixing it up with the fasties.

photo cred: Don Butler

At one point, Tim and I realized that if we held up a little bit more, we would be lapped, thus reducing our lap count.

Genius.

With two laps to go (for us), Donnie and BC came by making it one lap to go. I'm so happy that they're so fast on their bikes.

photo cred: Lunchbox

So yep, going to my "new job" today.

Goodwill pants, Goodwill wool sweater (that I bought for working as a messenger), Backcountry Research belt, Back Forty strap to keep my pants outta the chain on the commute in, Bike29 wool Swiftwicks, Bass shoes that The Dude found in the street one day at work, and Goodwill shirt that was partially destroyed riding Big Wheels at the New Belgium Urban Assault Race...

They should put a warning on those things.

Anyways, it's too bad The Dude couldn't have found me some boxer briefs.

I'm ready. Corporate America shall know fjear today.

Maybe not, but I'll send them an email with a link.

One more thing.

If you're into the whole endurance cyclocross thing (everybody is), there's a new event in Missouri; The Cedar Cross.

Why mention it here?

The race is free, but the promoter is taking donations for a local animal shelter, and if you read my blog, you know how I fell about the whole "helpless animal" thing.

There are already 80+ registered riders, so it sounds like the events already has a good head of steam considering it isn't until May 6th. Sign up, enjoy, and remember... no douchebaggery.

The end of an era, at least for me

2012-01-20T06:49:00.008-05:00

Funny how some things can be overlooked by many, but the trained eye of The Original Big Ring misses nothing. I got this in an email from him yesterday.

Sorry ladies, I'm married.

Today will be my last day working for Mercury Messengers.

I'm sorry, I don't think I segued very gently into that topic.

After 14 years and 3 weeks of steady employment, I'll be moving on. To put that into perspective, that's 1/3 of my life, 81 times longer than my last job as a messenger, and 242 times longer than the job I had in between messenger gigs. It's safe to say that I don't think anyone has rounded the corner at 4th and College St more than I have at this point. I've gone through seven messenger bags, four bike locks, a shit ton of keys, and probably a dozen helmets. I'm old enough to have fathered some of the guys delivering for Jimmy John's (but then again, so are two of the other remaining messengers). In that time, I've only called off once, and that was the day I woke up in a pool of blood in the street with my front wheel missing. I was back at work the next day looking like a zombie who couldn't lift one arm.

photo cred: Big Worm

Before the raccoon eye effect and swelling had a chance to settle in for the week

Blame the economy? A little. There were as many as 16 messengers on the streets of Charlotte before the house of cards collapsed. Now the numbers are closer to where they were back in 1996 when I pulled my first job. Amazing. I've seen a lot of faces come and go, and Big Worm and I have talked about how we probably shoulda kept a log to keep track of them all. We didn't, so that history is lost. Niner rider Rebecca Tomaszewski (Tomma-wicki-wicki-wicki) was once amongst our ranks as well as Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever. Have a hundred riders passed through the "scene" since the era of modern messengering began in Charlotte back in 1995? Dunno. Sure seems like it.

One could say that I'm landing on my feet. Although I woulda liked to take a pleasant break in steady employment, I go back to work on Monday. While talking to my new manager, I was told that I would need to wear pants.

"I need to BUY pants?"

"You don't own pants?"

"Why would I?"

I now own pants (thank you, Goodwill). I'm pretty sure I'll have my shirt tucked in on Monday morning. I'll get over it.

Of course I'll tell you more about my new job next week.

I'm gonna do my damnedest to not be distracted by renegade trail work and beer, and make sure that I race the short track this weekend. Word on the street is that the what used to be a jump bump is now a jump once more.

This pleases me.

I look forward to rubbing elbows, trading paint, pointlessly jumping jumps, and mounting up a number plate for the first time in 2012. This should certainly stoke the fire for the what-is-called-a-race-but-is-just-a-big-party ICYCLE coming up on January 28th.

Bad timing and good times

2012-01-19T07:22:00.010-05:00

Let's leave out the fact that Dirt Rag did a little feature about worthy blogs on Tuesday and on Wednesday these new readers who clicked the link to Bad Idea Racing were treated to my poorly executed blackout.

Traffic comes and then it goes on to greener yards. Screw 'em, the fickle bastards. Steve Tilford can have them.

I've got bigger news....

Flashback to October 2011.

Project BS begins, and I test ride a By:Stickel. Not only was I in love with the bike, I had a manly crush on its Ardent front tire.

Now, a good tire on a front squish bike is not always a great tire on a rigid bike. I've ventured away from my tried and true front tire in the past and been disappointed, but once more I stepped into the void. I called George at Bike29, he had an Ardent 2.4 in stock, and he shipped it out toot sweet. It took me awhile to find the happy place pressure-wise, but after a few rides, I decided that I had found my new favorite front tire.

Now Mike Piazza (Bad Idea Racing manager, coach, attorney, directeur sportif, Dicky handler), being the good listener that he is, remembered that I am already a big fan of the MAXXIS Crossmark, Ikon, and Ignitor. He rapaciously decided he would step over the head of Admiral Ackbar (Sponsor Liaison and Equipment Acquisitions Director ) and contact MAXXIS regarding sponsorship for 2012, thinking that any money that we could save might be put towards the purchase of a Bad Idea Racing mini-cannon.

He told me about all this after he had all the paperwork taken care of and assured me it would be great for everybody (the sponsorship and the mini-cannon). So imagine my excitement when he called me some time back in December to tell me that something from MAXXIS showed up from the postman. I came home to this:

Which contained this:

Great, just what I needed, another sticker sponsor. I considered my options...

No, that would be the easy way out. I decided to wait awhile and see if something better panned out.

And on Wednesday, it did.

Tires.

Not just tires. My favorite kind of tires from MAXXIS, a company here in the Southeast US, so it's pretty cool. I'll be riding MAXXIS this year, and I have to admit that after years of mixing and matching, I'll be riding two tires, front and rear, that match and everything.

Aesthetically pleasing,

and I have stickers.

I am happy about all of this, but I did tell Mike Piazza to please go through the proper channels next time, or else I might have to take some kind of justifiable appropriate action. Remember what happened the last time someone tried to think outside the box around here?

Sorry, but this could be the end of the world as we know it

2012-01-18T06:49:00.005-05:00

I stole that image... or am I sharing it?

Read about SOPA on the only Wikilink that isn't blacked out today.

Help stop it here.

Neither here nor there nor anywhere

2012-01-17T07:33:00.003-05:00

Saturday morning, I did all the work that needed to be done (and then some) to get the Misfit diSSent Brontoawesomeous Meatplow V.5 ready to race.

Wheel swap, tire sealed, cog swap to a short track friendly 17T, EBB flop, saddle lowered... computer mounted (why not?).

I packed up Sunday morning with full intentions to race. Everything I might need to participate but could still be stuffed into three jersey pockets; loaded Tülbag, entry fee, two gels (to supplement my 9:30AM spaghetti nutrition plan for a 1:50PM race), and my pro level number plate holder hardware jammed into an old, slightly larger prototype Tülbag.

I wanted to carry my puffy coat so I wouldn't freeze my butt of in the mid 40° temps standing around in the woods spectating. I dumped out my box and coffee can full of excess straps from a million different packs and messenger bags.

I wanted to use my PAC Designs tube holders to compress the coat, but I still needed to strap it to a pack, thus ruining my pack-free commute. I could only find one of the damn things anyways, so looking around my bike room for something else, the obvious hit me in the face. I still had two brand new Clutch straps that I never took the tags off of since I got them. Although I never thought I would have a use for them, I used them to do what they were designed to do.

Different widths messed with my aesthetic balance, but I managed to get over it. I felt all Tour Divide'esque (on my ten mile commute to the short track).

I got to the race, socialized, and went into the course between races to see how the work we did over the past few months rode.

photo cred: Kim Stecher

When I got to the spot where there used to be a jump, but now there is just an over-sized, awkward lump of dirt, I heard my name called. I stopped and chatted it up with Don B and some of the guys from Bike Source.

photo cred: Lunchbox

We stood around and watched people not getting air on the what used to be a jump bump, but after agreeing that the experience was like standing around an empty fire pit, we moved on to the feature I had helped put in a month or so ago.

Watching a few riders go by, it was apparent that while the new line "worked", but there was an unfortunate knife edged (and enormous) rock near the landing zone. We removed the rock (between races), but then the line around the jump was unfortunately dumbed down. Doh. So we did what we could to make the go-around very slightly more challenging and used the big removed rock (and others) to reinforce a nearby berm that was terribly blown out by a rider who overcooked it.

A lot of work with hands and crude implements to make for great bike race.

Photo cred: Tim Anderson

By the time we were done, the jump line was faster. I use the term "jump line" loosely, as many riders just rode over it, through it, whatever. Not everybody approved of the work. I stand behind what we did. Not only were there some exciting passes through that section, the work done on the berm helped keep any more riders from flying into the woods (not that anybody complained about that work or even noticed it).

The races were going off a little late, and by the time I figured out I'd be racing closer to 3:00PM, I decided to bail on my start. Geoffrey Bergmark was not able to make the trip down, and without my pasty white bearded adversary, some of the wind that was in my sails disappeared.

Daniel Lenis lining up for the "gap."

Photo cred: Tim Anderson

You can see the rock we added to the go-around line to make up for the rock we had to remove. There were still two clean lines through the rocks.

Even the women were "stepping up."

Photo cred: Tim Anderson

That is not a sexist statement (I don't think). About 75% of the women took this line and probably 90%+ of the expert men, including Captain Morgan on a VERY skinny tired cross bike.

Donnie Kirkwood, SS representative of the pasty white bearded hill people chose not to jump early on...

Photo cred: Tim Anderson

but eventually he was hitting it like a red headed Bike Source employee. There's video evidence out there, but unfortnately it's a facebook thing.

Maybe some trail fairies will get busy this week and tweak a few things. Hopefully the race photos will have more people in the air with shit-eating grins next week. Short track should be FUN, fast, FUN, challenging, FUN, painful, FUN, and FUN. Maybe that's just my opinion.

Then again...

My opinion is an asshole. I have one, and it needs a serious bleaching.

Race or drink beer?

2012-01-13T07:04:00.010-05:00

After Wednesday's highly controversial sock post, I was overwhelmed. Had I known I only needed to talk about socks for two days straight to get a massive peep out of the masses, I woulda started Sock Thursdays years ago.

There's some stuff going on here behind the scenes. Things that will be shared with the class at a later point. Stuff that is way bigger than a pair of socks. How bigger? Like two breadboxes bigger.

I'm sure that you've noticed that my new Oh-So-Smart Phone has really raised the bar around here, in a social media sense and as far as upping the quality of the images. I do miss some things about my old Not-So-Smart Phone...

Last night I fixed that problem... to the power of ten.

Nay, make that to the power of fucking twenty-two.

I feel complete once more. Friends, call me often if you would please, especially when I'm out in public with my family. They would like that.

Why should I even bother blogging today? My former editor, Karen "Killer B" Brooks (now editor of the esteemed Bicycle Times) wrote a very nice Dicky'esque type blog post, complete with Sponsor Liaison and Equipment Acquisitions Director Admiral Ackbar, David Lee Roth, and Montucky Miller references.

She ends up doing a better job explaining something I tried to explain before but failed. I'm assuming I failed because I did not get 43 comments telling me how awesome my explanation was.

This weekend, the Short Track racing begins here in Charlotte, NC. I wasn't planning on racing, but then I got called out by one of the (former?) pasty white bearded hill people.

Then I thought about it some more, and then even some more after that. I've been racing off and on in this series for close to ten years. The only thing keeping me from racing this weekend is deciding whether or not I'll spend $28 registering for the race or buying two sixers of Happy Ending and a small Domino's pizza.

I should have put a couple PAYPAL donate buttons on my sidebar, one for the short track entry fee and one for beer and pizza. Whichever one would hit $30 first would win for the weekend.

My hindsight is bionic.

In defense of a "$19 pair of fucking socks"

2012-01-11T06:57:00.014-05:00

Yesterday I posted about my new found love, my brown Swiftwick Seven Pursuits.

In my comments, I got this:

Anonymous said...: $19 for a pair of fucking socks?

Sadly, if the commenter had been less anonymous, I mighta sent him/her a pair of socks so he/she could try them out and see for him/herself. Swiftwick has been very, very good to me (thank you Garrett Morris), and honestly I don't keep all the socks that come my way. I've yet to wear-out a pair of them yet (even the ones I consider go-to's or the ones I wear to work in the winter), so I had some I coulda sent you, Mr/Ms Hater. Too late now, as I'm sure I'd get a lot of commenters claiming to be the $19 fucking sock hater.

I've been drinking a lot of this beer lately:

It costs almost $12 a six-pack. A $12 fucking six pack. I guess I could always buy this instead:

(I did my research last night)

Two, not one, but two twelvers of The Beast for $12. That's a bargain... if you like shitty tasting beer with half the alcohol content (4.5% VS 9.0%) and a third the pretentiousness. I'm too old and financially secure to drink The Beast, and I'm not gonna spend any of my money on what used to be my favorite beer when I was in college 20 years ago ($4.11 per twelve - tax included in 1991).

Why buy a $19 pair of fucking socks when you can get 18 pairs for the same price?

What's not to like? Moisture and odor control, machine washable, cotton blend, and made right here in China.

Although I have to give points to Kmart for selling a black athletic sock, I think I'll stick with made in the USA Swiftwicks. You can read all the techno-spiel over on the Swiftwick website, but I can assure you that I'd rather buy one pair of Merino wool Pursuits than a pack of Kmart cotton blend.

That's right, BUY.

If I had to buy my socks (and fortunately, I don't) I'd still own in the neighborhood of 2-3 pairs of Swiftwicks. Why?

I own a $140 helmet. My rigid crabon frok goes for @ $400 on the open market. My XTR pedals retail for more than a tricked out, top of the line (for Kmart) Mongoose full suspension bike.

I put my money into areas of my life where I can appreciate quality. I spend a lot of time on my bike, and I want that experience to be all that it can be. I want products that will last and give me top-notch service during their lifetime.

Things that are low in priority to me see little, if any, funding. I still have a tubed TV, I bundle my money/ID/credit cards together with a 13 year old binder clip, and I've got about $10 tied up in my office furniture.

I've seen how nice flat screen TV's are in the store, but I'm not upgrading my viewing experience until my shitty TV breaks. In areas where I see an extra dollar spent not making a lick of difference in my quality of life, I'll stick with what I got. Case in point: SRAM PC-1 chains... $8 retail.

And whether I pay for my socks or not, I still freak out when my favorite pair ends up separated on laundry day. As Dough says, "Two socks enter, one sock leaves."

Dryers are not an item I put on the luxury list.

Floor model

And as promised...

The Wednesday retro Dick pic of the week

1987

Senior year. Mullet (bleached), silk running shorts, Swatch, PV Lakers trucker hat, and de-sleeved t-shirt, Awesome in the making. My entire outfit (minus the Swatch) costs less than a pair of Swiftwicks. I had yet to taste The Beast... what a future I had laid out ahead of me.

Laurel and hearty handshakes

2012-01-10T07:49:00.003-05:00

I did ride on Saturday. My neighbor Todd, who lives less than .25 miles from my place of residence, invited me to join him and his people to ride at the "new and improved" Uwharrie.

Todd destroying all in his path

The "new and improved" Uwharrie is wide open and no longer rocky where rocks used to be. Much to like and much to be missed. The improved trail has drawn a huge amount of traffic, and thusly the increased two-way traffic has made me aware of the increased ignorance in proper trail etiquette regarding right-of-way. I didn't know what to think of this.

"Hmmmmmmmm....."

Without going into details, I'm just gonna say "Do unto others as you would have them get out of your way," or something like that. Common sense and courtesy. Don't harsh someone's gig, and be kind, rewind.

That's the movie version. In the politically correct edited for TV version, the old lady says "Outta my way, nigger."

Because that makes sense.

Great ride and afterwards... great (big) beer.

And I don't wanna forget to mention that I wore my new favoritist ever socks in the world... again.

Merino wool Pursuit Sevens in blazing brown... at least I think they are brown. I tried to get a photo that would show just what the color looks like, but I failed. Apparently I'm not the only that has troubles capturing this glorious earth tone.

My attempt:

and Swiftwick's lack thereof:

Out of all the socks that were in my latest shipment, these have been put into service the most.

I just don't get these socks for nothing. They are a gift in appreciation for all I do at......

whatever it is that I'm doing.

I gotta say I'm pleased. With a drawer full of black Sevens, it's nice to have options... like gray!

Daring!!

Not to mention some sexy SSUSA fours and a pair of twelves that let people know I like tall socks and loud colors.

The only thing that I don't like about having one pair of favorite go-to socks? Laundry time. We (me) have an issue with rogue socks in the house, and when one half of one pair goes missing, I lock down the house until the escapee is found. No one leaves, no one enters, and no one sleeps.

The Pie does not always like when I get a new shipment of socks. Something about the militant atmosphere that kills all the happiness in the house when I pull the laundry basket out of the closet. I think that's why gRant threw in the little pink pairs to appease the sock warden.

It had been much too long...

2012-01-09T07:34:00.004-05:00

I rode Saturday (more on that later... tomorrow?).

I worked on some things on Sunday.

Given the opportunity and the noisy reminder that I needed to work on my bike, I got down to business on Sunday. I mighta (closely) watched the Women's National CX race first, but after that, I ran to the store and prepared for the task at hand before the men's race started.

Saturday's ride reminded me in an auditory manner that I had been ignoring my bike for quite awhile. I thought I'd be able continue to ignore it until the Meat Stickel arrived, but the cacophonic clamor was too much to bear. It's been resoundingly pinging, panging, clacking, ticking, and creaking all too long. I couldn't take it any longer.

I removed the MOOTSpost. All the little MOOTSbits were wiped down with a ProTowel, lubed, and reinserted properly. Seated climbing will no longer be ignored in favor of more peaceful standing. I can sit and be lazy once more.

The amount of black gobbled D gook in all the little tight places was bewildering. No more.

Fresh meat mounted up front. Old front meat now new back meat. Traction to improve ten-fold. Noise reduced? Naught.

XTR pedals were removed, disassembled and properly lubed/adjusted...

all while trying to keep a keen eye on Ryan Trebon's failed efforts to be totally awesome.

There was an annoying creaking coming from my brake levers. For the first time (honestly) I broke out the Luber Pen.

This device makes sense to me now. Lube in tiny places and not all over the place. Dick Bruceman wins. Pull back on the lever, and peaceful braking is within reach.

I had to swap a terribly worn-out ring with a less than worn-out ring. The Cracker Barrel puzzle of trying to get the ring off without removing the crank arm was a fail.

Damn it.

The last piece of maintenance? Gluing a multi-panel chamois back together.

All because I had some time, a place, some beer, and the impetus of riding around on a noisy bike all day Saturday...

Which I will get back to tomorrow.

The moral of the story? Work on your shit once and awhile. If you don't know how to, then learn. If you don't wanna learn, support your LBS with your money and brownies. Word on the street is that real mechanics prefer brownies over beer.

Glad I am not a real mechanic.

Are you getting it? Really getting it?

2012-01-06T07:17:00.008-05:00

I hope yinzers are enjoying the increased quality of the images on the blog. I have been doing what I must to make things more "visually stimulating" around here. Although Tyler "Tool Bag" Benedict has proven that you can use your tongue to control your iPhone (oh-so-smart phone) with gloves one...

"Can you hear me talking douchey now?"

I've had great success using my much more hygienic nose part. Many of the images from the ride I went on last Sunday were taken with my nose. I guess there's always the option to "sew a bit of conductive thread to the tip of your (my) glove," but that would require a trip to the robot store and parting ways with a Jackson.

photo stolen from bikerumor.com

If I seem off lately, it's because things at work have changed, and I'm still adjusting. More work, more money, more responsibility, more hours... the American dream. Trying to plan a "season" right now, but I'm lacking focus at the moment. I did jump on the bandwagon for PMBAR yesterday, as if there was any doubt that I was going back. If you want in, you'd better grab a partner and get registered since it's 50% sold-out only two days into registration. It's the only race I've done eight years in a row, if that gives you a clue as to how awesome an event it is.

I'm also signed up for ORAMM (the most important race on the international cycling calendar), 6 Hours of Warrior Creek (the most funnest 6 hours of anything in the world), and in a moment of semi-lucid/semi-buzzed typing, I registered The Wonderboy and I for another New Belgium Urban Assault. I'll be signing up for the Icycle XC and Night DH some time over the weekend...

And of course, there's the Pisgah 111 (permit pending).

Good Lord. Except for ORAMM, that's all happening before June. Perhaps I've been planning a season without even knowing it. It's too late to start training now.

Looking forward to 2013 already (even if it may be canceled due to Armageddon II).

Technology stymied and true love

2012-01-05T07:18:00.004-05:00

A few things and then something else.

I tried to make my oh-so-smart phone into a sound system.

I failed.

So my oh-so-smart phone can help me make great bike blog, but without further investment, it will not add to my in-shower entertainment.

I did find an alternative use for another piece of technology in the house, my Feedback Sports digital scale.

Had to do an in-home weight assessment for foster puppy medication. The young canine in the photo told me he felt "objectified." He weighs almost .5lbs more than my Misfit diSSent Brontoawesomeous Meatplow V.5 frame, and although he is black and white just like my bike, he is much harder to ride.

I am not a fan of beer reviews on bike websites or in bike magazines. I wouldn't even think of putting one on my blog, but this is different. I had a beer over the holidays that was less of a beverage and more of a life experience.

SweetWater Brewing Company's seasonal Catch 'n Release Happy Ending. Very likely the best beer I have ever tasted.

Sadly, the place where I normally purchase my beer has not had it on the shelves since I first found it there around the New Year's holiday. I'm not a big fan of driving around looking for beer, and if I have to make a beer run, I normally do it on my bike anyways, thus limiting my beer finding radius slightly. I must say, if you have the chance to buy some, do so immediately.

I took the time to enjoy my last one from a glass.

Seasonal beers... why do I fall in love with one every winter? Such an unhealthy relationship that will never end well.

What am I gonna do now?

2012-01-04T06:51:00.009-05:00

Since next year is now this year, I might as well start talking about it. Assuming I don't sneak into a short track race or two before then, the first race I'm doing in 2012 will be the Icycle XC/Night Downhill on January 28th.

This race never disappoints. I've been doing it off and on since 1999 (I think), but I have skipped it for many years now.

This would be Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever's view in the back of the "DH shuttle." If I had to guess, the year was 2001. I'm basing that on my green Boreas helmet and the Santa Cruz Bullit I'm holding on to. The format was different back then. Night DH Saturday/XC race Sunday. That year I managed to win the Sport DH class, get victoriously smashed on beer and Mad Dog, and came back from sleeping on the floor to win the XC race the following day. Good times.

I think the duration of my most recent absence between Icycles has a direct correlation to just how bad of a hangover I had at the last one. Four years equals one bad hangover.

It all started innocently enough, happiness abounding all over the place.

photo cred: let's assume Brado took all the pictures in today's post

It was a relatively beautiful day. Things were looking up for the XC race.

Remember, this was a time long ago. I was fresh off my World Championship win in 2006 and looking to get back to the business of having fun. It was the time of the re-painted Zion frame and well before there were any Awesome Straps.

That's a toe strap pulling tube securing duties.

I had fun "racing"....

until I got lost, ended up going backwards on the course, ran headlong into traffic that was rolling the correct direction, and quit. Then the bad things started.

I brought a bottle of Chimay and two bottles of Mad Dog (it's an Icycle thing). Someone else brought kegs of beer and fire. I had one failed attempt at a practice DH run and decided it was safer to just keep drinking. It was not.

Nick the Stick put the beatdown on me.

Someone poured me into bed. Someone else stole the keys to the Dirty Little Box, did donuts in the ball field, and left it out there.

I woke up with a broken rib, blood with the viscosity of gravy, and a swollen head. You shoulda seen the other guy.

So, it took me four years to put that pain behind me, and for the last three years I had to read about how great the event was on MTBR's NC/SC forum.

But not this year.

I plan on being there, although I have yet to register. I plan on traveling with the younger crowd from Charlotte, and there seems to be some latency in their resolve to register as well. Someone needs to crack the whip around here.

And as promised...

The Wednesday retro Dick pic of the week.

That's me and my inflatable Sylvester-in-a-speedboat pool toy. I still have those trunks, although they fit a bit more snug on me now.

Happy freaking New Year!!

2012-01-03T07:36:00.003-05:00

Although I said it wouldn't happen, last year's resolution for twelve trail work days a year...

completed.

Small step-up gap alternate line

I got my 12th and final day of trail work in for 2011 on Dec 31st. Added a little something-something to the short track. Been eying it up for a couple years. Victory.

Sunday, I was in on Big Worm's plan for a ride down Heartbreak Ridge. The Wonderboy came out of retirement for this occasion.

Unbelievable.

We went through Motreat, but not the way others would go. Undiscovered country.

Big Worm had a map. Well, it was a map-like piece of paper with squiggly lines and such.

We might have accidentally been on a hiking trail.

It's not like we actually "rode" it anyways. We kinda sorta just walked .64 miles to the top of a mountain up a zig zaggy trail that intersected with a happy place before we started our climb up Old Toll Road. When we hit the standard approach up Rattle Snake, we came upon three strangers, Jane, Tom, and Cameron. By the end of the day, they were less than strange.

Typical shot of the typical view from the Old Toll Road overlook.

Typical injury that one might get on a typical body part if they try riding on a typical sloping, wet boulder.

We climbed all the way up to the resort villa at the top of the climb with our new found friend-type people.

After we bombed down the fire-hose-blown-out descent that sits above the Heartbreak Ridge descent that most ORAMM'ers have experienced, we put the serious chunk-a-lunk behind us.

I tried to snap a photo of Big Worm right before the entrance to the ORAMM-made famous descent.

I got this:

The Wonderboy was much easier to capture due to his overall lack of speed.

Yes, we taped his feet to the pedals just like they did to Dave Stoller in Breaking Away. I couldn't find the clip, but here's Moocher punching the clock.

There's an overlook on the other side of the world that looks back at the other overlook. We did not overlook the fact that we we're looking at it although we couldn't find it.

Big Worm captured us capturing the moment.

photo cred: Big Worm

They were looking at the scenery. I was actually checking my makeup in my iMirror.

When we got to the rooty section that makes my butt pucker at ORAMM every year, I walked over them. Then The Wonderboy came along, looked at it, and rode it like it was nothing.

Keep in mind, I usually roll into this section exhausted from 40+ miles of effort. I've never taken the time to examine the problem. Not while racing. Not while out and about on a fun ride. I have no desire to end up like this guy (at 10:23):

So Tom, Jane, and Cameron caught up to us while I was contemplating my attempt at this section. Big Worm snapped these off while waiting for me to shit or get off the pot:

Tom

Jane

Cameron

Those images give you a better idea of the exposure to the side of the trail. Years ago, Big Worm tumbled down the hill and ended up getting a mountain laurel punji shoved into his arm requiring stitches. He reminded me of this right before I decided to try it.

You have to ride about 2" from a tree on the right (your left in the photo) on the approach to make it work. I'm sure Sam Koerber never even slows down when he hits it... whatever.

Victory number one of the new year. I also shat my pants.

Best ride down Heartbreak in a very, very, very long time.

Maybe 2012 won't suck so bad after all.

I signed up for ORAMM the day before this ride. Coincidence? I think not.

Well, that's it folks

2011-12-30T06:54:00.007-05:00

The end of another year.

Six years blogging and fourteen years at my current job. For a man that hates commitment, I think that's pretty good. While I'll admit that every morning that I wake up extra early just to write and I end up spending the first ten minutes of my day wishing I were dead instead of awake, I know it will be awhile before I consider walking away from blogging. I enjoy it too much, and once the coffee maker starts making those satisfying burbly noises, I know that things will get better soon enough.

2012

Gonna...
*do some new things.
*do some of the same old, same old.
*have a new sponsor or three.
*turn 43.
*use my oh-so-smart phone to help make great bike blog.
*try to do at least 12 days of trail work (I missed it by one this year. Although there is a work day this weekend, I've got a commitment with my mom).

I should be on my new By:Stickel some time next year.

This is not mine, but it is the first one with the half man/half machined chainstay yoke. Very nice indeed. I am excited about this new bike, but I'm always excited about new bikes. I like trying different things... except flavored coffees and cultural experiences. I'm over that.

2011 was hardly a bad year for me. If I consider my stage win at the Trans-Sylvania Epic a "win," well, then I finished the year with one "win." Considering what I went through to cross the line first and how badly I wanted to win knowing that Dough and Grig believed I could beat the Grape Ape (Rich Straub), it was actually an emotional victory for me... something I haven't had in a long while. The kinda win where I had to dig deep, hurt bad, and overcome some obstacles along the way. There were a few other random trips to the podium, some missed opportunities due to the lack of a killer instinct, and my first mechanical related DNF in a long time.

I did lose two contests. That sucked. Better luck next year or maybe no more contests for me. It does provide excellent blog fodder, win or lose.

I thanked my sponsors yesterday. Today, I thank you. Without you, the reading type folk and the just here to look at pictures and call you a pussy miscreants, I woulda quit writing this weBlog long ago. Your virtual support here, your vocal support on the race course, your monetary support of my sponsors in the open market, your wearing of Team Dicky garb... none of it goes unnoticed. I am humbled and grateful. If I could go back in time and tell mullet headed 1988 me that there was a ladder of greatness, and someday I'd be holding onto the third from the bottom rung of said ladder, 1988 me would never believe 2011 me. I'm sure future me and past me wouldn't get into a fight over it, as 1988 me and 2011 me were/are both pussies...

So thank you, from the bottom of my grossly enlarged heart to the top of my disgusting diseased lungs.

My name's Team Dicky.

I am an unprofessional cyclist.

Who cares?

End of the year gratitude and such

2011-12-29T07:32:00.001-05:00

I hate to do it. Not for my sake, but for yours.

I want to just take the time to acknowledge that I'm not alone here.

Yes, that fits in nicely with yesterday's mullet, I know.

If it weren't for those fine folks off to the right there (under Dick Support) there would be no Bad Idea Racing. Well, not as we know it. Without them, I would be racing without the things I need, like socks, wheels, hydration, lube, clothes, and whatnot. I could race without them, but then I would just be an unprofessional naked runner.

I am pleased to point out that within each and every company that supports me, there is at least one person with a sense of humor. That person has been given the task of dealing with me. Without that person, I would be unappreciated, scorned, and perhaps "blacklisted" within the "industry." They keep the backdoor open for me at all times, but let's not take that the wrong way... unless it's funny.

or not.

I love them all. If I could, I would hug them... but actually, if I could, I probably wouldn't hug them because hugging isn't my thing. Perhaps some kind of bro handshake or a highly structured high five. That would be nice.

HIGH-FIVE HOLLYWOOD! from Almost Twins

or not.

I love them for what they do for me... without (predetermined) expectations. I love them for making things that make making great bike race easier for me to make. I love them for loving me...

unconditionally.

Unbelievably, there is a song called Unconditional Love by a group called Hi-Five.

Very nice.

They do not currently sponsor me, but I am looking into it.

So thanks to you Dick Support folk, the big and the tall, the small and the short, the bright and the beautiful and the dark and the ugly.

You do it for me. I do it for you.

Let's do it again next year.

What I did with my free time and the first installment of "Old School Wednesdays"

2011-12-28T07:47:00.004-05:00

Five days off and two rides, some time with some friends eating waffles, some time spent with my mom.

I know, this is a bike blog, not a waffle/family reunion blog.

I rode out to the Backyard Trail from my house to meet up with Zac, Tumas, Roadie, and the Other White Rich D.

My first ride with my new oh-so-smarter phone.

It was nice to be heading out the door with camera/music/phone/recipes all in one as opposed to the digital camera, iPod Shuffle, not-so-smart phone, and recipe box I'm used to carrying. Sadly, all is not happy and bright in the world of modern technology. While Pandora streaming Dokken into my ears is nice, the routing of my headphone wire is not so nice. Then when I want to take a photo, I've got to deal with a headphone wire and take off my glove, though when it was time to trade casserole recipes at the trailhead, it was nice being able to just email them to each other. Huzzah!

My reduced ability to quickly take a photo meant that the first time Zac tried to clear this line and ended up in the poo creek, I did not get the photo.

"Hold on Zac. Stay in the poo creek just a bit longer so I can disconnect my headphone, take off my glove, wake up my iPhone, pull up my camera app, and get a natural photo."

Still it was a good day (oh-so-smarter phone issues aside).

The Other White Rich D going all "North Shore" and shit.

I spent the day after Christmas riding with Zac and Bike29 teammate, Dough (who was down from Connecticut dodging the IRS and running a load of contraband maple syrup to his parents). We headed out to Wilson's Creek, or as I like to think of it, mountains built for single speeding.

Dough fiddled with his new GoPro and seventeen extension arms that allow him to video record himself from a position only attainable by a time traveling remote control helicopter whilst Zac did his preride Tai Faux.

While I obviously played with the tired and overused-by-others features on my oh-so-smarter phone.

Much climbing was to be had in order to make with the anti-climbs.

Photo cred: Dough and his time traveling remote control helicopter simulator

Dough was entertained by my dainty creek crossing abilities.

Photo cred: Dough

I got through the 32 mile ride on 1/3 bottle of water, 1/3 bottle of Carb Boom, and a Christmas box of Mike and Ike's.

Post ride, we went looking for real food. Mexican food. After Zac took us to a couple closed Mexican restaurants, Dough's iPhone took us to a Mexican grocery store.. and then we finally found Habaneros.

I am always confused with Mexican restaurant menus. Everything looks the same to my uncultured eye, and no matter what I order, it pales in comparison to what everybody else gets.

So what did the "not quite the most interesting man in the world" order?

The "Special Dinner." A little bit of everything... chile relleno, taco, beans, rice, burrito, something like a burrito but not, something like a flat taco but different.

Photo cred: Dough

Two plates. The waiter did not warn me. As Dough says, "nothing like the 'special dinner' for someone four apples tall."

I was not looking at Zac and Dough's plates and their tiny portions with jealousy.

And as promised on Facebook and my (not really) skyrocketing Twitter account, I found a shocking image of a much younger me while perusing my mom's photo albums on her PC.

Put down your beverage and swallow first.

Seriously, I'll wait.

This was taken in December of 1988 (sorry, not 1998). I broke my foot playing tackle football in a parking lot while on Christmas break from Youngstown State University. A few days later, I cracked my cast on New Year's Eve Eve while slam dancing to Paul McCartney's Wings, drinking Black Velvet, and eating Hersey Kisses.

I also puked that night. Thank you Paul S, Doug B, and Biff for keeping me from pulling a Bon Scott.

Yes, I had photochromic Transition prescription glasses, a mega mullet, a dirt stache, jams, and I think a Swatch.

Please restore my cool points with this:

Iron Maiden and a small Eddie the Corpse head... to go with the Nike Swoosh, I also had a Nike hang tag on my walking boot. I was all class and then some. Why weren't the chicks all over me back then?

Dough says I should pull out the old school photo thing once a week.

My mom has enough blog fodder to get me through the winter easy peasy.

Happy birthday, Dad.

1967

I can see the future, and it looks like Ed Asner's sphincter

2011-12-23T07:57:00.010-05:00

With the introduction of new technology into my life, I was happy to let go of another leisure enabling device.

I wasn't actively selling it, but when I saw that some guy on MTBR was having trouble getting his grubby mitts on a black fork (in the desired 100mm travel/15mm axle style), I felt like it was meant to be his. I took it off and went to the business of getting it super clean with my dirty and well-used Pro Towel. I wasn't kidding when I said I've been re-using them multiple times and storing the dirty serviceable one under the lid.

Dick Bruceman may not be happy with my miserly use of the product, but they are robust enough that they can be re-used a few times before being tossed into a nearby creek (I kid). Removal of this last bit of squishy business I had left in the house required more work than I wanted to do, but with a few events coming up in the next couple of months, I was gonna have to do it anyways.

I needed to swap the 15mm new skool axle back to the 9mm QR old skool axle system. When I banged out the 15mm axle, the bearing came out with it.

Not thinking, I banged it back in...

before I realized that it needs to come out when the axles are swapped, so I banged it back out, stuck the 9mm axle back in, and gently reassembled the whole mess.

This is my special Coleman mallet, bearing press, adjustment tool, and tent stake pounder being used in conjunction with a 7/8" socket which is otherwise useless to me unless I'm pounding in Industry Nine bearings.

Also during the process of the fork swap, I recalled someone making fun of the fact that I save the leftover steer tube pieces from fork installs. Not only are they great for storing spacers, seat post collars, and syringes on my work bench, they make great place holders when I remove my fork.

Thus keeping my handlebars from dangling from the frame by the rear brake line. I'm pretty sure I invented this use and the patent will be applied for posthaste.

I know I talk about it all the time, but Topeak does not have to pay me to gush about my digital torque wrench.

I love busting this thing out. One of the best, if not the best, purchases I made all year long. I only wish there were more things I could do with it. I wonder if it would measure the torque with which I apply peanut butter to bread? I wonder if Topeak will honor any warranties if the tool is fouled with peanut butter?

So the Misfit diSSent Brontoawesomeous Meatplow V.5 is back to the way it was intended to be.

I can't wait to have two rigid single speeds. I don't see how that doesn't make total sense.

And yes, I am now tweeting.

I chose to do this on my second day of smart phone ownership. This is not being done to increase my influenciality in the bike blog world (unless that would help me procure a beer sponsor). Since I'm not linking all this stuff together very well, that should limit its effectiveness to zero. I specialize in self-sabotage. I am only doing this because it is damn easy, I'm bored at work, and it's borderline fun to share. Expect me to become a bigger asshole in the near future as this wormhole of narcissistic activity pulls me deeper into its time-sucking bosom.

There will be pictures of puppies, food, bike parts, beer, and the shit I see at work.

Like a Julia Roberts movie, but not.

All this change brought about by going a measly 200 minutes over our old plan last month...

I'm off till next Wednesday. Maybe I post something before then, maybe I don't. Maybe I just give up on blogging like so many others and limit my mind to 140 character blurbs forever.

That's never gonna happen.

Getting with the times

2011-12-22T07:31:00.002-05:00

photo cred: some douchebags from Bike PASA

In 2010, I was ranked 36th amongst the top 50 most influential cycling blogs by a guy who must be some kind of expert at ranking things.

This year, I totally missed the boat. Not only did I drop off the 2011 list, I didn't even know that a 2011 list existed. The ranking system has been adjusted to be in line with the times while I have not adjusted to the times the least bit. I do not "twitter" and "Bad Idea Racing" does not have a facebook page. I do not plan to do either as far as planning goes. I have no "corporate plan of aggression" (Big Worm's term) to speak of, let alone a plan of any kind.

But...

As of yesterday, I now "own" a "smarter phone." "Own" because I actually feel like it owns me. "Smarter" because it has bested my attempts to master it thus far.

I now have the power to twitter and facebook in a manner that would make a teenager feel like a teenager. I do not know what to do with this power. With great power comes great irresponsibility. How far I will end up going down this rabbit hole is yet to be determined. Minutes and prescribed plans pushed my hand when I thought I would remain a Druid forever.

I've already become annoyed with Hipstamatic in the first few minutes. I started watching a movie on Netflix, but it wasn't the one I thought it was. There are no Vikings on Shutter Island. I am one step away from checking into a nursing home.

I'm gonna pretend that the whole smart phone thing is not pretty cool...

But it is.

Expect things to get better around here.

Not a whole lot better, just a bit.

More photos? Yes.

The ability to actually respond to comments throughout the day? Yes.

Video? Perhaps.

I've signed up with twitter. Will I tweet or twat? Dunno.

My first post on twitter will hopefully set the tone.

Will I fall short of your elevated expectations?

Most certainly. I always do.

In unrelated news....

Bilenky Junkyard Cross happened.

Bastards. I hate them all.

Junkyard Cross Race from Erik Silverson on Vimeo.

Bilenky Junkyard Cross 2011 from In The Crosshairs on Vimeo.

People won and stuff. On the podium?

None other than Harlan "Brown" Price and Mike "Siesta" Festa (AKA: Fetus)

My heroes

So anyways, suggest some apps for life (that are free). Want to be able to communicate with the outside world, navigate around, record ride info, predict lottery numbers, make better sexy time... that kinda thing.

Duality of Man

2011-12-20T06:56:00.013-05:00

I am a product of the popular culture of the mid 80's to mid 90's. Anything and everything that is great in the world of movies and music has it ties with that period.

Period.

Every generation feels the same way about the culture that they were immersed in when they were finally old enough to form an opinion.

Every generation has a war movie for its time. I was too young for Apocalypse Now or The Deer Hunter to be mine. No, by the time I had a taste for things dramatic, Full Metal Jacket was THE MOVIE.

Although I have an everlasting fondness for Joker and just about shit my pants when Pyle lost it in the bathroom, no other character stood out like R. Lee Ermey's DI Gunnery Sergeant Hartman (somehow only rated #6 on the Greatest Movie Assholes in the Movies... Ever).

His ball-busting, skull fucking drill instructor performance crushed Lou Gosset Jr's earlier benchmark from Officer and a Gentleman (which was not a war movie, but more of a Lifetime channel love story with some serious homosexual overtones that led to the making of Top Gun to see how far that storyline could be pushed). To Lou's credit, he did redeem himself in Diggstown, which was much more of a man's man movie.

Good enough that he should be given license to continue playing Chappy in Iron Eagle IV: Return of Chappy?

Too late for that, I guess.

Anyways, Matt Modine (think Vision Quest) did a fine job as Private Joker, the pragmatic protagonist of the film, a character I related to as a young, cynical man. Also a strong character, Animal Mother certainly spoke to the scary little person inside all of us but never admit to harboring in a dark corner of our brains, lest people think we're crazy.

Maybe it's just me.

Anyways, my favorite scene in the whole movie is when Joker gets a dressing down from a colonel.

Duality of man. Funny and true.

Ever since I saw that movie for the first time all those years ago, I've wondered, "Why can't somebody capture Stanley Kubrick's profound message, the feeling of the duality of man... with a cycling cap?"

I wonder no more.

The folks at Idiom Sweatshop have answered the prayers of an 18 year old boy and crafted this work of wearable art paying tribute to not only the movie, but the complex yin and yang of war put into words by Louden Swain... I mean Private Joker.

In case there are any doubts...

Still born to kill (even with the brim flipped).

If you've never seen Full Metal Jacket, you are going to be bummed when you find out you can't stream it on Netflix tonight.

Do yourself a favor. Do NOT click play on Heartbreak Ridge thinking you'll get the next best thing. I love Clint, but his portrayal of Sgt Gunny Highway should have got him kicked out of Hollywood. Grenada did not need to be brought to the big screen in this manner.

Yeah, so if you need to get your FMJ fix, watch this instead.

Just riding along

2011-12-19T07:22:00.006-05:00

Eeeessshhh. I wanted to start a dialogue Friday, but after getting too many responses, I'm going back to working in a dark room with noise canceling headphones on. I guess clapping with one hand is sometimes less effort.

Saturday, I had to opt out of the scheduled mountain ride. That doesn't mean I wasn't there in spirit. I'm so happy that facebook has a tagging feature and my friends have very smart phones that allow them to do very dumb things.

Because I so woulda been smothered by these attractive female bartenders that were enjoying my blog on an iPhone.

Our trails were a mess here in Charlotte, so I decided to ride outta the house with Stabby over to the all-weather short track course to check on the work we did on the jump a few weeks ago.

I love urban single speed mountain bike rides through peaceful neighborhoods.

I also noticed these bike sensors at the traffic light around the corner from my house.

Park your bike on the little mushroom head guy on a bike and BINGO... light change. People who bitch that nothing is getting done for cyclists in Charlotte... please take notice.

Sunday was kinda more of the same. Urban ride out the door to the Backyard Trails to take a spin on the new stuff we've been working on (I've just been a helper) for the past few months.

Definitely something new for Charlotte. Slow, tech stuff that will actually give riders a challenge. A few sections that have become my favorite in the area... seriously.

Lumpy, weird, awkward... stuff that newbie riders can use to learn low speed handling. Not all bike handling is done at 12-18MPH.

A switchback... a real switchback... in Charlotte.

Exposure to the left hand side is a 15-20 drop down to the creek. It's tight, and once again, a place for new riders to practice a skill that you normally have to drive a couple hours to experience.

You actually have to ride through the car. Really.

Not really.

In other big news...

Light on a Stick II now has a bell.

This will come in handy... when it's dark... and I need a bell.

Talking to you is like clapping with one hand

2011-12-16T06:53:00.008-05:00

Sometimes the lack of comments around here feels a bit like clapping with one hand. Gone are the days when I would receive a daily "You are a pussy" boost of approval. If I were to look for inspiration for posts based on feedback, this blog would have died a long time ago.

I tire of this one way dialogue, although I understand how The Pie feels now.

But alas, I did get a comment worthy enough to generate some electrical activity in my brain that translated into two-way communication on my end.

"Maybe they should give you a show on HGTV about how to properly build a bike room...or how to convince your wife to allow you to designate a bike room. I'd watch it." ~ anonymous

Always anonymous. I love the internet.

How does one convince their wife to allow them to designate a bike room? It's a long, drawn out process, I assure you.

Flashback all the way to 1992....

Move in with potential wife. Bring your two bikes with you. Mount them on the bedroom wall.

Remove the paint from one of your frames in a manner that breaks several OSHA and EPA rules... in the bedroom.

Move into small apartment. Mount three bikes on living room wall. Start to collect bike parts and accessories and "display" them on some shitty metal shelves in the bedroom (the same shelves that I gave a grand tour of some time ago).

"Liberate" some food grade lube from work and put it on your road bike. Then ride the rollers in the living room spewing food grade lube all over the carpet and the wall behind you for an hour.

Move into a town home and take over the basement. Spend so much time in your mancave that your wife is convinced you've become one of the People Under the Stairs.

Move into a small apartment. Stash your now ever-growing collection of bikes in every nook and cranny of non-living space; in between the washer and dryer, in the coat closet under the stairs, behind the couch... anywhere they would be most annoying.

Move into a house with an attached garage. Complain about the heat/cold out in the garage and do most of your work in the living room. Destroy more carpet.

And finally, look for a new place that has a spare room that's very inept design deems it purposeless for typical house use; odd layout, louvered doors (louvered double doors a plus), lack of cable hook-up... whatever you can use to argue that the room was destined to be a "bike room."

Enjoy.

Holy crap, it's going to happen (pending approval)

2011-12-15T07:41:00.003-05:00

I've got a big announcement, but first...

About a month ago, Fajita lost my Light on a Stick while on vacation in Florida.

It fell out of her pocket while walking on the beach. She was upset. A search party was formed, but their efforts were futile. Tears were shed. They returned home and informed me that I was now lightless. More tears...

Yesterday, I made excellent use of my time. I broke out an old LED light that I bought during the early years of LED technology from a manufacturer who assured me it was bright enough to ride in the woods at night.

It was not.

But now with the addition of an old 1" quill stem, a Back Forty strap, and the other Salsa Chili Pepper grip not used with the original Light on a Stick, I now have a very useful Light on a Stick II.

It's a little more busy than the original Light on a Stick, it's way heavier, but it is harder to lose, way brighter, and can stand up on it's own. I'm considering quitting my day job and building Lights on Sticks for a living.

I noticed that I will disappoint multiple sponsors with that poorly planned image. You can only see the 9 in the Bike29 sticker and Dick Bruceman will certainly be miffed that my tub of Pro Towels are facing the wrong way. Should I tell him that I keep re-using one of the towels by crumpling it up and stuffing it under the lid to keep it moist? Probably not. Sponsor Liaison and Equipment Acquisitions Director, Admiral Ackbar is not pleased with my performance (but happy to at least make the shot).

In bigger news (like something could be better than Light on a Stick II), Pisgah Productions, the people who bring you events like PMBAR, Double Dare, and P36 have a new event planned (permit pending).

I'm sure Brado will be commissioned to produce something slightly better, but that's the best I can do for now.

The idea for this race was being tossed around by Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever and Jeff Papenfus for quite some time. Some of you might remember that Jeff passed away as a result of a riding accident that happened this past summer. Eric has decided that the race will move on and that the proceeds from the 2012 event will go to Jeff's widow, Lisa.

The original idea was for a 100 mile route. Eric forwarded the proposed route to me a few months ago, and when I looked at it, I called him up to tell him he was crazy.

To say it was hard would be an understatement. 100 miles of Pisgah ain't no joke. Keep in mind that the last time something of that magnitude was attempted (AKA: The Hush Hush Ride/Pisgah 99) only Brad Kee finished, and it took him @22 hours (he survived by eating his own toes). I broke out the map and tried to think of another route, but honestly, unless you stay on gravel roads as much as possible, you're going to be out there a very, very, very long time if you plan on busting out a full hundie.

So I ignored the concept of 100 miles and just stared at the map. I tried to think of a route that would have a maximum amount of fun with a minimal amount of needless suffering. A route that would make it easy for the promoter to have aid stations in logical locations and would see that people could actually finish the whole course and HAVE FUN. The kind of route that I would want to race... some of the best stuff that Pisgah has to offer in a way that would offer a shit ton of bang for the buck.

For those that can read a map or already know Pisgah:

276->477->Clawhammer->Buckhorn->SMills->Squirrel->Cantrell->SMills->Bradley->5015->1206->5000->Spencer->Spencer->n.e.r.->Fletcher->ResRd->Lower Trace->NMills->Yellow Gap->5051->1206->Laurel->Pilot->1206->476->SMills->
Buckhorn->Black

Well, that's the plan anyway.

For those that don't know Pisgah or can't read a map:

Nice paved flat to gravel road climb to start (break up the field), semi-wide introduction to the trail (nice filter), some of Pisgah's finest technical trails (Squirrel/Cantrell) while you still have the energy to cope with it, a nice mix of mellower trail, double track and gravel to get you to the descent on Spencer, over to more woodsie fun on Fletcher and Trace (that whole side of the forest will be awesome), a gravel climb to a classic Pisgah Laurel-to-Pilot loop (my favorite descent in Pisgah), some gravel to the "Wheelchair Ramp" climb (my name, not the forest service's) with one big push to the top of Black for one hell of a descent to the finish.

Eric is going to find out what the distance comes out to as soon as he can. It will be more than fifty but less than a hundred miles. Will it be 100K? Not exactly, but it will be the Pisgah 100% Awesome. Some of the best riding that the PNF has to offer, hands down, in one race.

This will not be the typical Pisgah Productions event. Eric plans on stepping it up quite a bit to make this slightly less grass-rootsy and more like what folks are used to seeing at other backcountry endurance races. While this will mean a slightly higher entry fee (compared to his very reasonably priced/more adventure oriented races), there will be support, course markings, CATEGORIES, a timing system that's more sophisticated than The Boy (my son) and an Excel spreadsheet.... all the whiz bang top notch stuff that you could ask for if you were the kind of person who asks for things.

A marked course, so none of this business:

photo cred: Clay Faine

And absolutely no wooden nickels.

Can you tell that I'm excited?

This will be a "must-do" event.

The date (tentatively) is May 19th, two weeks after PMBAR.

Mark your calendars. Sharpen your pencils. Change your oil. Check the batteries in your smoke detectors.

All good things to do, just not all relevant to this post.

All is well

2011-12-13T07:31:00.003-05:00

I got my computer back from the evil-doers. Jeff Bridges did not win this time. Either of them.

Back to our normal programming.

I spent the weekend being primary parent. No bike rides, but with some free time on my hands, I decided to wash the Punk Bike Enduro mud off my bike as opposed to throwing the shit show in the trash can. I also had some work to do in order to get the Misfit diSSent Brontoawesomeous Meatplow V.5 rideable again.

A broken spoke in my rear wheel. How could that have happened?

Oh wait, let me rewind the event VIA the Montucky blog:

"We started the derby. I ran into Dicky's back wheel and fell over. " ~ Montucky Miller

Asshole. I took him and his 20yr old lack of skillz out of the game. Anyways...

I never noticed the damage until the race was over. My massive watts just pulled the wheel around all day long regardless of the damage I was doing to the colorway on my frame.

Asshole... my attorneys will be contacting you.

I mentioned that I would be unfurling the contents of my Race Strap with real world mud all over it.

Off the bike:

Out of the strap:

Unfurled:

A quick wipe down with my gloved hand and the tube was ready to do its job. Of course I coulda just wrapped it in plastic...

Whatever.

Since I decided to go back to the Race Strap (and step away from the Back Forty), I got some new sexiness recently.

I like the aesthetics of carrying my stuff under the saddle. I like cows. What can I say? The new Race Straps are longer and have a removable grip strip that... unhhh... in the words of the creator:

"The strip absorbs the minute shock under the strip rather than through it ... its like riding on a bed of springs... (and) easy cleanup"

I also got a couple of the new Clutch straps that just dropped.

They're very long, very trimmable, and damn versatile.

That's a raincoat strapped to a stem... with 4"+ to spare. I would imagine all those idiots doing extreme Trans-this-and-that type races will love these. Strap almost anything anywhere anytime. Not my cup of tea type racing, but a nice way to keep my jersey pockets free for peanut M&M's and such. By the way, cheap.

Take note: I did try to strap my foam roller to the stem, but the strap could not handle the girth. I will have to find another way to do my recovery rides.

Yeah, that's it. I feel like some kind of winner, bringing my bike back from the PBE induced dead. I hope to ride it again at some point.. like a bike. With The Pie returning tonight, I should soon have a chance to spread my tiny wings and fly away soon.

Yes, Anne Murray. Me and you.

FYI: All you haters,

I'm practicing my MGM Lion for the finish line in 2012.

You'll get nothing, and you'll like it

2011-12-12T07:34:00.003-05:00

or not....

Computer took on a nasty virus Saturday. I thought I kicked it out, but last night I found all the photos that were on the hard drive were not there, although the folders are there, but not where they belong, and they appear to be empty, and I stayed up till 12:30AM trying to figure this shit out.

Thus, I slept in today.

And thuslier, you get no post. The Pie had not backed up her photos on the external hard drive in a awhile, and she doesn't have an image hosting site (yet), so I'm spending my awake keyboard stroking time trying to find her images. I know they're in there. I just might have to coax them out with some cheese or something.

So tired... so bummed, but not in the British sense of the word...

but sorta.

My art has been commended as being strongly vaginal

2011-12-09T07:09:00.003-05:00

Just to prove that my new friends don't just lay around in the woods, play with squishy bikes, and fix flats...

photo cred: Steve Harouff

Jim, Andy, and Mike getting their pre-game breakfast on (notice the bottle rockets that Andy WAS MOST DEFINITELY NOT shooting off).

photo cred: Steve Harouff

Mike and Nick... probably close to the last time I saw them actually during the event before they disappeared into the woods to get liquored up and make mudballs.

Tis the season.

Time to get fat and lazy. Time to live up to my jerk-off name.

I weighed 124lbs when I returned to Charlotte from the 2005 Trans Rockies.

I was 147.2lbs on the scale the night I came home from the Punk Bike Enduro. That's the most I've weighed since some time shortly after college.

photo cred: Steve Harouff

I rule.

Time to fall from the highest heights and embrace low expectations.

Hello off "season."

Scratching my head and my ass at the same time and seeing what happens.

I'll let you know.

For now, I'm going to spend the next three months catching up on Ultra Enduro Dyude interviews.

Ultra Enduro Dyude: AKA The Freakin' Video Camera Hunter

All over the place PBE related stuff

2011-12-08T06:40:00.015-05:00

Where to begin?

Ahhhh... somewhere in the middle.

I did get further than I thought in the Punk Bike Enduro Derby. What started out looking like this...

photo cred: Rob Lochner

ended with @ two minutes of this:

Around the 50 second mark, you can see Beer Monkey (Christopher Beech) make a bee-line to me at the back of the scene. He then drags me around the circle and tosses me into the audience like so much beer monkey poo.

Back at home, I've had issues to attend. My bearings were screaming for attention, but with no daylight for a proper bike wash, I've been dealing with a mud encrusted, beer fouled piece of equipment.

Allow me a moment to endorse a product that I've grown to love. I thought my Enduro bottom bracket died after three days of muddy ATV trails at last year's Crank the Shield. After multiple submersions a day and then being left in my travel case for a few days, the thing was all but frozen. I pulled of the crank, removed the seals, flushed the bearings, and got another year out of it... so far.

It was feeling crunchy after another year's use that ended with this last weekend's PBE. I followed the same process (with the added punch of an air compressor) and it feels as good as new.

If you've worked on very many X-Type bottom brackets, you know that's a very nice spin despite the typical seal drag. That makes 19 months on this one X-Type bottom bracket with its original bearings. Do yourself a favor and buy one for yourself. Enjoy a very serviceable product and thank me later. I paid full retail for this thing, and it's worth every penny.

And I finally figured out an ideal use for the EPX Cycle Grease bellow-type dispenser.

I was able to load the shit out of the bearings a lot easier than just mashing it in with my fat finger.

How did I end up in Pittsburgh last week?

When I posted my plea for help on the blog, I was contacted by Jim (who I didn't know)

and he told me that his buddy Mike (who I didn't know) was leaving Charlotte Friday...

with his buddy Nick (who I didn't know)...

and heading to Fayetteville, WV (where I've never been) on the way to PBE to stay at Andy's house (who I also didn't know even though we've been in the same circles for years).

photo cred: Christopher Beech

So get to Fayetteville at 10:00PM, drink till 3:00am, wake up at 11:00AM, head over to Andy's shop, and ride out to the trails (sans breakfast).

Gratuitous bike ride self-portrait.

Our late wake up time pushed back the ride, which pushed back our lunch, which pushed back our departure, which made us miss the Pizza w/Dirt Rag and also the amateur wrestling match in Pittsburgh. To make up for it, we headed downtown and stayed out until the bars closed or some girl called me a dick... whichever happened last.

So I went into PBE malnourished, tired, and hungover. Luckily, I snagged the role of designated driver early in the day (due to natural selection), so I did not suffer the effects of a long weekend as fully as some.

But some of the effects I did feel in my realm will be dealt with this weekend.

Combine mud with small fragments of shale like one might find in a rock quarry that one might stand around in a few times at PBE, and you get a nice pedal fill compound similar to concrete.

I'll be unfurling this to see just how things look like after some real-time worst case scenario mud exposure.

I can't wait for the weekend. I'm buying a chisel attachment for my air compressor.

2011 Dirt Rag Punk Bike Enduro

2011-12-07T06:38:00.010-05:00

Photos can and may be inserted at random due to the nature of the event and my spotty recollection of said event.

photo cred: Christopher Beech

Stage 1 was a derby. I've never done a derby before. The rules? Ride around in a circle, knock other people off their bikes, and when you put a foot down (or any other body part), you're out. Simple. With close to two hundred riders circling the parking lot, I was fortunate enough to not be a local, as they were targeting each other with precision. It wasn't long before the weak were destroyed (pretty sure I took out Missouri who will henceforth be Montucky), and there were less than 30 riders left in our circle of death. I had twice avoided the orange bike that had been launched ghost-rider style into the circle, but out of nowhere I was attacked by the giant Beer Monkey (Christopher Beech).

He grabbed me and took me towards the crowd standing outside the circle where he began to shake my bars violently. I thought one was supposed to keep their hands on their own bars in a derby, but I quickly learned rule #1 at the PBE: There are no rules. I succumbed to the monkey's shaking and put my foot down, happy I had made it that far, but bummed to be out of the running so close to the top ten.

Stage 2 started out with a giant climb. I had no idea what to expect as to the duration of stages or where we were going, so I held back a bit. The climb got steep enough that many folks were getting off and walking, but I wanted to climb it all. My efforts to stay on the bike garnered me a 4th place and 4 points, which surprised me... at the time.

photo cred: Christopher Beech

Since Stage 2 ended in a field of weeds at the kegs of beer.

photo cred: Jon Pratt

As one might guess, we kinda held up there for a little bit. After a very long while I noticed some riders going off and heading down the ATV trail. Not wanting to get left behind, I wandered around till I found my bike and hopped into the mix. I asked some of the riders around me if we were racing. Nobody knew. Before I knew it, we crossed a finish line for Stage 3. Fail. We were racing, and I totally missed the start. Meh. No points, no place.

photo cred: Jon Pratt

I made sure to pay attention to the start of Stage 4. I lined up at the front with Montucky, Strauber, Richie Rich, and a cast of characters that looked like they were ready to go. Richie Rich grew impatient waiting for the start, so he yelled "go." We went. I quickly noticed that I was sitting in third early on, so I made a couple attacks and fought my way to a 1st place for 10 points. It was easier than I expected, but I think I was catching on to something (to be explained later).

photo cred: Christopher Beech

Stage 5... I remember nothing, I probably rode in some mud, I probably had fun, and I ended up in 5th place for 3 points... and then there was some beer.

photo cred: Steve Harouff

Stage 6 was a lollipop out of the quarry. We went high into the woods and came back low. I saw a racer come running down through the woods cutting off a huge section of the course. He hopped onto the trail a couple riders in front of me. Remember rule #1: There are no rules. I ended up in 4th place with 4 points.

I got off to a shitty start on Stage 7. Being towards the back of the top ten, I was excited when I saw a punk placard hanging in the woods about twenty feet off the trail. Knowing that ten points were up for grabs, I dropped my bike in the trail and ran off to collect him from his resting place in the tree limbs. Upon returning to my bike, I found Montucky standing with a foot in between my frame and my wheel (rule #1). He delayed my progress and we continued to battle in a very unsportsmanlike manner all the way to the line with neither of us getting any points.

Stage 8 started when the mud bogging ended. I lined up at the front next to Montucky looking for the holeshot. Unfortunately as soon as the race started, Dirt Rag editor-at-large Josh Patterson's dog wandered out in front of me, and I bumped into him as Montucky got away clean. I made chase, but the gap was big and Montucky's desire to win his first stage was strong, although it was not meant to be. Four other racers had found it much easier to skip a small portion of the course, and Montucky's 1st quickly became a 5th. I ended up with 6th and 2 points.

photo cred: Steve Harouff

After the stage was over, Montucky was "gifted" a punk worth 10 points. I told him that if he won PBE with that "gift" he would end up guilt ridden and dead from a coke overdose like Marco Pantani who was gifted a stage of Le Tour by Lance.

He said, "Who's Marco Pantani?"

Fucker.

Stage 9 was the up portion of the infamous "up/down." Bascially, we were to run up a massive hill that was so steep that it was hard to stay upright and on your feet.

photo cred: Jon Pratt

I just walked up. No need to be in a hurry. Most of the other front-runners had punks by now, so the odds were even. No points, no place.

photo cred: Christopher Beech

Stage 10 went right back down the hill. We lined up fifteen racers wide just 5-10 feet from two "rideable" lines down the side of the steep slope. It was obviously gonna get ugly. The guy next to me suggested walking at the start. I concurred. I watched as a few riders made it down cleanly, but after that it became an avalanche of bikes and bodies. I know I stepped on a bike. I may have stepped on a body. Arms, legs, wheels, and all manner of projectiles were hitting me from behind before I finally made it to the lower portion where things became manageable again. No points, no place.

Stage 11 was mostly a long climb. I ended up in an uphill mano-a-mano derby with Montucky. He was pulling my brake lever as he rode by, I was cutting him off into the ditch. While we were goofing off, other riders were collecting points. No points, no place.

photo cred: Christopher Beech

Stage 12 was the final stage and certainly the most fun. Steep downs were the reward from the previous stage's climb, and even though I was moving at a decent clip, I still finished outside the points. It was a shame, as the points were handed out in reverse order and Montucky's 10th place was worth the winner's 10 points.

PBE final standings?

Tim (I think... came outta nowhere)
Doug
Montucky
Topher
Myself

Throughout the day, it became more and more obvious to me that the most douchey way to win the men's class at the PBE would be to go out and dominate every stage. Nobody ever seemed to be giving it 100% all the time, as it seemed like such an uncool thing to do. One could gain much more respect in the peleton by cutting the course or stealing a punk than by the brute force of being all fast and stuff. The "racing" was all in fun, and the real winners were probably the people who skipped stages and just hung out in the woods drinking and taking photos. A festival of bikes, beer, and as much as I hate to use the word... fellowship. And along the way, someone wins.

Awesome.

My PBE post-pre-game tomorrow.

Soon, my friends

2011-12-06T07:27:00.007-05:00

I thought I would have it in me to post up my Dirt Rag Punk Bike Enduro report this morning... at least I that's what I thought last Friday.

My ass was kicked. It was a long, strange trip. A whole lot of this:

photo(s) cred: Christopher Beech

Left me with more of this...

than I wanted to deal with.

I spent last night trying to figure out if it would be easier to just throw the Misfit diSSent Brontoawesomeous Meatplow V.5 in the recycle bin and ride a road bike until my By:Stickel is ready.

No, I think not.

Report tomorrow.

Watch this for the time being:

Yes, West Virginia, there is a Punk Bike Enduro

2011-12-02T06:25:00.005-05:00

This week has been about squeezing it all in, just in case I wouldn't be around to see the end of it... the week, that is. The Christmas tree simulator went up as it always does around this time of year. As always, I assemble the tree-like device and then go about my business until it is time for me to put my special two ornaments in place.

Like the tree, the tiny beer is a fake as well. That doesn't stop me from trying, though.

The jersey? That was my "major award: for being smart enough to know that Walt would indeed pee on his bike if he had to.

Back on point, why was I worried that I might not see the end of the week (in Charlotte)?

I did not know if everything would fall into place, but apparently it did, and I am going... tonight. I had to get my shit ready yesterday, starting with my bike.

The gear that was on there was wrong and crunchy. The plan was to replace it with one that was less wrong but equally crunchy in nature. Not wanting to expose my SID to the extreme conditions of a PBE, more work needed to be done before my rig was complete.

Hmmmm... the white wheels are set-up with a standard front axle, but the rear was not shod with rubber, and they're both super clean from an end of the year cleansing I gave them when I thought they were going on the wall for the winter.

I almost hate to admit it, but the Pro Towels do work nicely. It was the one product I told Dick Bruceman I could live without, but I ended up using them anyways. I am cheap about it though, and half-used towels end up wadded up under the moisture saving lid for later use.

Somewhere around here I was ready to give up.

Although it was only 10:59AM, I grabbed a beer out of the fridge and soldiered on. My day's plan did not involve any time behind the wheel of a car, so I assure you this was a very thought out move. Accompanied by the mellow, jazzy tunes of Anthrax, I managed to pull out a victory and build a complete PBE prepped bicycle.

The plan was to then ride said bike to the local short track to check out the work we did Sunday and then do a little Backyard Trail ride on the way home, but a phone call changed all that. Zac (with the assistance of Timmy AKA Ginger Spice) was going to be framing in his carport in order to make it into his future frame building workspace. I like tools, so I headed over there instead.

Beer and tools are okay...

as long as you don't pet the hedgehog.

Whence darkness fell, we worked a little bit longer until it was time to head to the Tarheel Trailblazers monthly meeting (monthly for them, biannual for me).

A busy yesterday now puts me behind in preparations for leaving tonight bound for West By God Virginia, the halfway point of the road trip to PBE and where we will be riding on Saturday before ending up in Pittsburgh to make great bike race. On Sunday, I'm hoping for some of this action:

I won't be back until some time on Monday, so I would say expect to see something close to a "race report" here on Tuesday.

Due to popular demand...

2011-12-01T07:21:00.005-05:00

This blog will be undergoing a format change in the near future.

"I've done a lot of complaining here, but of all the things I've complained about, I can't complain about my life...

on second thought..."

I know there are better things to get upset about...

2011-11-30T06:57:00.019-05:00

I can remember some time in the early to mid 90's when Rock Shox unveiled the Judy DHO (in magazines... Bike Rumor had yet to create the internet).

Pardon the fact that this is an image of a later generation as the original DHO had a canti stop on the brake arch.

Originally called the Diablo, but after Jamis had a hissy fit over already having a bike called the Diablo (which MBAction would censor the name out of the ads for), it was renamed the DHO. Anyways, it had a whopping four inches of travel and it had a dual crown because Rock Shox said they couldn't make a fork with that much travel and still use a single crown.

Shortly after that, Marzocchi made a 4" single crown fork.

Now it's 2011, and they have single crown fork with 160mm (6"+) of travel.

I can remember a time when people said disc brakes would never be used for XC racing since they were too heavy compared to V-brakes.

I remember a time not too long ago when people said that pro racers would never use 29'ers for so many lame reasons I can't count them.

Ummm... yeah.

I can also remember a time (2008) when Chris King said they would produce 21, 22, and 23 tooth cogs (quite relevant sizes considering the domination of 29'ers in the single speed realm).

Oh wait, that hasn't happened yet. Fuck.

So when Pink Bike posts up an article titled...

Burning Question: Will the 29er Replace the 26-inch-wheel downhill and all-mountain bike?

I cringe in parts of my body that aren't meant to cringe whatsoever.

I am not a staunch believer that 29'ers will be the only wheel size option for mountain biking eventually. It's just that most of the 450+ comments continue to perpetuate myths that have already been debunked.

Wanna argue about wheel strength?

Why argue when you can just post up a photo of a guy folding over a 29'er wheel?

I can't fight that logic. To my knowledge, that never happened with old fashion 26" wheels.

How about bitching about how 29'ers "sit higher"... despite having the similar bottom bracket heights. Sure, the front end can potentially sit 1.5" or more higher, but we are talking about downhill and all-mountain bikes right? Maybe they don't wanna give up the 2" risers and that gnar braaaappp moto look. Hell, only the most anal XC type riders I know on the planet complain about the high front ends on their XC rigs.

I guess there are three things that bother me the most. First off, sticking one's head in the sand and saying "never, never, never" doesn't stop progress, right Rock Shox?

Secondly, saying that companies are force feeding us 29'ers so they can sell more bikes is just wrong... for the most part. Let's face it, Specialized was only going to sit on their hands so long watching Fisher dealers sell out of stock halfway through the year for so long before they decided to join the game. CONSUMERS want what they want, and they'll buy it from whomever will sell it to them.

And lastly, there were quite a few comments around this line of thought:

"I think that yeah, maybe 29 inch wheels are easier to ride downhill with. But I didn't start riding downhill because I wanted it to be easy."

This from a group that considers 6" of travel the minimum and disc brakes a must. Don't want riding downhill to be easy? Take of the brakes, loose the squishy bits, ride downhill fixed with cyclocross tires... or better yet:

Gnar indeed.

There's more that bothers me, but before I forget to mention it...

Stevil has already covered the topic well, but seriously....

It pisses me off, both that the winners elected to not get the tats, and that the promoters/organizers didn't say "Fuck me? Fuck you. Go home."

Second place should have got the tats and the win (and the gold undies). It's not just the rules, it's the tradition. I'm not against pros participating in SSWC or SSCSWC because some of them actually enjoy the spirit of the race.

Adam Craig, eats shit trying to hold onto his beer during the race, wins, gets the tat. The race meant more to him than just an opportunity to get his sponsors into the limelight. It was also a good excuse for him to try the mustache look.

Last night I stood in my front yard and burned my Rapha scarf. No one in my neighborhood even noticed.

*sigh*

I do indeed "mess up compasses"

2011-11-29T07:00:00.007-05:00

Saturday I squoze in one more ride that I didn't think would happen. Although Leanne had originally posted the ride back on the 15th, there was nothing but a very loose plan up until the night before. We resorted to phone calls to pull it all together. The Other White Rich D and I would be meeting Jon Nutsack and Leanne (aka Team Pussy Willow) and we would all be meeting up with Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever.

A few weeks ago, Leanne mocked the small piece of carpet I carry around in my car for changing purposes. This time, she brought game.

The original route was overly ambitious. Discussion were had in the parking lot. Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever was ready to throw punches if the route didn't meet his elevated standards.

photo cred: Leanne

Eventually we settled on a "make it up as we go along" plan that provided entertainment in spades. Win, win, win.

It's Pisgah, so even a simple not-so-epic ride has hiking involved.

We stopped at the overlook on Bennett to take the typical scenic photos. Jon did not have a camera, but he did pull out his imaginary Canon EOS Rebel T3i Digital SLR camera with a 55 mm - 250 mm Canon EF-S Telephoto zoom lens so he could not only feel like he was with the in crowd, he was better than them by a factor of ten.

We also took pictures of each other taking pictures. It was almost as awesome as it sounds but much less.

photo cred: Eric

I also enjoyed a snack of gel that was left over from the Trans-Sylvania Epic that I didn't have a chance to finish at the Double Dare.

photo cred: Leanne

Six month old gel. It tasted like the opposite of victory.

Leanne wrecked, and we all laughed heartily at her, not with her.

photo cred: Eric

The other time she wrecked, we weren't all around to enjoy the scene, but at least we can enjoy the afterglow.

photo cred: Leanne

Honest (politically correct) Native American, we had a great time. For the locals, we hit Bennett, Coontree, Sycamore, Thrift, and Black (and everything necessary to connect them with >>>>>'s)

photo cred: Eric

Apparently Chris Strout was out in the woods that day as well, but luckily we were able to avoid him. That in and of itself, was a major victory.

Three days of riding shared with nineteen different people. With so many different people on all three rides, I feel safe sharing this bit of conversation overheard on one of the days.

Rider #1: "How long does weed stay in your system?"

Rider #2: "Not long enough."

Burning calories and riding bikes

2011-11-28T06:52:00.009-05:00

First off, if you are a local and want to travel to Pittsburgh this weekend for the Dirt Rag Punk Bike Enduro, get a hold of me so we can fantasize and plan and stuff.

And now we return to our regular scheduled program...

Four days off... what to do?

I'll hangdog onto other people's rides. That's what I'll do.

When a guy looks like this and his middle name is "Danger," you want to make sure you go attend his ride... or else.

It was announced as a pleasure pace ride, so I hopped on the fixed gear/cross tired Thylacine and decided to ride out to the trail to maximize caloric expenditure. Although it was chilly, I was glad I was on my bike at dawn and not here pushing up plastic daisies.

Oddly enough, the route to the trail was very similar to the route I started on when I tried (and failed) to ride to the beach on a Thanksgiving morning many years ago. So much nicer to not be riding in 20° temps at 4:00AM with 225 miles to go to my destination.

The group in the lot was not who I expected. Ilan and his crew were there for the ride, but when the expected party was not there on time, Bicycle Sport group headed out on the trail. I followed. That's the first time I've ridden mountain bikes with Ilan since the 90's... seriously.

I rode a little piece of trail, cut out early, got back to the lot, and waited for Zac et al to arrive. Once our group was assembled, the pleasure pace started.

Faster Mustache team meeting.

I only overcooked a corner and hit a tree once, and I did manage to clip a pedal multiple times without killing myself. Not too shabby for not having ridden the fixed gear off-road in a long time. Zac managed to hang quite well with his self-made urban cross death machine as well.

Celebrations back in the lot.

Kurt decided to join the Shirtless Club for Men.

And then I was left with the lonely ride home.

I forgot that it can be a bit taxing on the hamstrings riding brakeless off-road. I was sore as shit that night. At least I felt as if I earned the right to tax my gastrointestinal system later.

F me? FU 2.

The next day, I was in for a "grand tour" over at Poston. Too far to ride to from my house, I drove over and met up with some other folks I don't get to ride with very often.

And then we rode...

well, at least some of us rode.

We saw the sites, stopped and BS'ed,

photo cred: Tiles

rode to and fro, and stopped more to BS.

There's some climbing out at Poston, and leaving my 32X18 gear on my bike was probably not a smart idea. My hammy was screaming, but I had fun nevertheless. Once again, a beautiful day to be out on a bike amongst friends. These guys built these trails, and it's easy to see the source of their pride.

I also got to see the 1,000 lumen, $80, self contained, and lightweight Shart Lite™ (SL2K) back in the parking lot.

The NO GAS logo is not going to be an optional finish on the Shart Lite™. Here's what it looks like on the bars and when you know how to take a decent photo.

photo cred: Tiles

Two awesome days of Fall riding, and I ended up on the trail with fifteen different people.

Weird. Happy holiday indeed.

Would I get to pull the trifecta? Three rides in three days?

More tomorrow.

Giving Hanks

2011-11-23T07:00:00.007-05:00

Count your many blessings...

Yesterday I headed out to the Backyard Trails. I rode over there alone, and as soon as I got on the trail it was obvious that the misty rain from the day before was still having a negative effect on the surface of the dirt ribbon. I decided against a full-on ride, and went over to the small step-up jump to get my balls up, so hopefully they would get bigger before I got here:

My projected landing zone

A seven to eight foot gap I jumped once while riding with Stabby, but since then haven't had the balls to repeat. After multiple roll-ups at speed, it is safe to say I still haven't done it since.

It's the last thing I was thinking about when I went to bed last night. Shit like this haunts me.

Defeated, I headed over to where we've been working the past few weeks. There was a line to a drop I was eyeballing that had a small ditch that needed some rock work in order for the rider to keep speed on the approach. After I finished with the rock bridge, I decided to try to take the lip off the chunk of cement that formed the "natural" drop. Armed with my simple BFR tool, I took a few two handed swings at the offending appendage, and I was making progress. I knew it was a dumb idea, and eventually what I thought would happen happened. I slipped and smashed my hand between the cement clump and the Big Fucking Rock I was swinging.

My "trail work" was done for the day. I hopped on my bike and headed to the Common Market to spend my emergency $5 bill on some medicine.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I am thankful for all the typical stuff most folks take for granted, health (my finger is not broken), family (my family is not broken), and the internet.

I am also thankful for the little things.

I am thankful that I have friends like these people.

I am thankful that I was able to file my SSWC08 bottle opener back into some useable form.

I am thankful that there always seems to be some kind of IPA on sale less than a mile from my house.

I am thankful that I have "friends" who would rather make fun of me than have sympathy for me (sympathy is for losers).

I am thankful that Steve Stickel finished another frame, which means mine has moved up the queue one notch.

I am thankful that I will get to spend the holidays with Poodle Doodle while she recovers from some severe neglect.

I am thankful for old riding gloves that will keep the camouflaged dog shit off my hands when I bag leaves for the next four days.

So much to be thankful for, you know?

Have a nice break from the action this weekend (unless you work in retail).

(un)SCIENTIFIC MATERIALS ANALYSIS

2011-11-22T07:20:00.011-05:00

Many months ago I noticed I was having an unsettling issue within my day to day life. My trusty SSWC08 bottle opener was becoming difficult to use in an efficient manner.

Upon further investigation, I noticed that the beveled edge that lifts the bottle cap off the collar and over the lip had worn down from use, thus limiting it's ability to allow me to gain access to the orifice.

Diagram #1: The morphology of a beer bottle explained to avoid any confusion

The results of years of use and alcohol abuse.

Conclusion: Aluminum is a great lightweight material for those who want high performance but can deal with a limited useful lifespan. Granted, this bottle opener was the "go-to" that hung from a hook inches from the refrigerator door seeing more use over the past few years than any other openers in the house. Still disappointing. I expected more from this free hunk of aluminum.

I moved my Paragon titanium bottle opener to the hook in the kitchen once I realized the aluminum one's days were numbered.

This opener was gifted to me by a generous friend who was trying to get me to switch teams with him at the time. It has seen plenty of use and shows absolutely no signs of wear at all. It is everything that titanium has to offer; rust proof finish, comfortable compliance, magical aura, a feeling that you're better than everybody else. It's like sex in your hand.

Conclusion: Ti is great and will last a lifetime, but it's best when you can get someone to give it to you rather than paying full pop. I'm pretty sure it makes my beer taste better.

Hanging next to my computer on my workbench is this tooltastic beast, the BO-1:

Which has now been replaced in the Park Tool line up with the B0-2... whatever.

It's made of steel, and as we all know "steel is real." This thing is a workhorse, and being that it's in the bike room, it gets treated harshly yet still continues to perform. Simple, elegant, heavy, and romanticized to no end.

Conclusion: It does everything the ti version does at a third the price, it just weighs more and has a cool colorway. Don't expect to find this cheap piece of plastic coated stamped steel in your family dentist's bike room. He's got ti... probably a few different ones at that.

In all fairness, I wanted to test a bottle opener made out of crabon fibre. Lacking one, I looked around for the next best thing.

A piece of steer tube from my Niner crabon frok.

Luckily I went to college, so I know the lighter trick (and how to flick bottle caps across the room), so I was able to open a beer quite handily with this device.

When I finished opening the beer, my crabon opener was slightly damaged. I lost my grip as I went to put it back on the workbench, and it fell to the ground shattering into seven pieces. I'm pretty sure this is a warranty issue. For the few moments that it was working, I did feel like I was at the forefront of technology, and I had a slight feeling of superiority over those codgers who cling to their cherished, outdated titanium openers in a cult-like fashion.

Conclusion: Carbon fiber shows great amounts of wear and tear after only one use and is highly fragile. Fortunately China is producing it at such a prolific rate that its disposability is not a factor. Buy, use, break, warranty... repeat as often as necessary.

Overall Conclusion: Bike frames... errrr... ummmm... bottle openers should be made out of McDonald's french fries. They're lightweight, cheap, and the last forever.

For those of you without the means or connections to obtain the openers that were tested (or any others that might have been beschwaggened unto you), might I suggest 100 other ways to open a beer with things like lawn furniture, a CD, and your friend's head.

All facts stated in the above post are not true, except the ones that are, but there's only something like two of those.

Hanging and banging

2011-11-21T06:55:00.006-05:00

Sadly enough, I emptied the vessel that is my cranium into a Dirt Rag article over the weekend. Between that and catching up on Beavis and Butthead, I feel like I have little to share with the class today.

It was just a sorta typical off-"season" kinda weekend.

Ride on Saturday. One more lap around a place I have gone around many times already.

Trail work (as opposed to removing leaves from my yard) on Sunday.

I had some help.

She was a useful engine. She lopped, she dragged out debris, she climbed trees, and she tested questionable food products.

I did not bring the camera with me, and my only option was my not-so-smart phone. When I got home to look at the photos, I found many images I had taken over the last few months that I had done very little with.

The Great Biblical Charlotte Flood of 2011... wettest day ever at work. First time I had to stop in the middle of doing a run and pull over because I couldn't see.

Strange decoration in the BoA building. This fish-like decoration was occupying the lobby in protest of all the money spent on the decorative plants in the lobby. This little guy is the 1% (of plant decorations that look like funny faced fish).

One of those shitty days. Park my bike as soon as I get to work, go inside to take a leak, come back outside and sit on a bench, hear a suspicious hissing noise behind me...

Worn-through tire that by the time it was replaced, the Emergen-C pack was pretty worn-through as well.

My dog made this one day whilst out walking aboot. I included it in today's blog post so it could officially be my shittiest post ever.

It will get worse before it gets better. Only two days of work this week, so blog posts will be spotty at best.

Isn't it great to have a penis?

2011-11-18T07:32:00.003-05:00

I would like to apologize for yesterday's post, but only to make you feel better. Not me.

There's nothing wrong with having a naked man to brighten your day.

I just so happened to win a set of wheels for my 1st place award winning Trans Rockies Naked Mile 360° Cyclocross Dismount.

I practiced it the day before in tent city (with my clothes on, of course) and perfected the move at speed. I had the eye of the tiger and the balls of a gorilla. The Naked Mile was one of the more creative things I've ever experienced at a stage race. Does anybody know if Trans Rockies still does it? If not, where else can I apply my advanced stage racing skillset?

Consider yourself lucky that I didn't just put the raw footage on the blog. When I hopped back on the bike, it was quite a disturbing thing to see in slo-mo.

Just like that, just with more curly hair.

I am quite good at hopping on and off of a bike. I kinda do it for a living. Thus when I asked the promoters of last week's cross race if I could participate on my fixed gear, I was kinda bummed when I got this reply from the USACycling official:

"A fixed gear would be a bad idea with the dismounts etc. It is a single speed race not fixed gear."

I know they have rules against fixed gears in cross races. I've talked about it a few times:

"For races on the road and cyclo-cross, the use of fixed sprocket is forbidden: a braking system that acts on both wheels is required.”

Rules are rules and they keep us safe from... well, I guess they keep us safe from people that break rules. I was still bummed, but last year's USA Cycling National Championship Single Speed Class had even more arbitrary rules to contend with:

"The single-speed category will not have the 33 mm tire width rule, but riders will need to have tires no bigger than 35 mm.

The single-speed category will be required to have a freewheel, one cog and drop bars (no straight bars, no mountain bikes)."

So not only do I have to buy a new bike, I'd better invest in some calipers as well. Nice of them to let the single speeders have an extra two millimeters.

I also found this odd cyclocross rule while fishing about:

"No acrobatics on the part of the riders shall be required to overcome obstacles."

Oh yeah? Then explain this very acrobatic move made by Bryan Fawley at a cross race:

Somebody broke some rules and fines will be distributed accordingly.

I would just go ahead and buy a cross bike if I could justify it.

Not just any cross bike.

This cross bike:

The Twin Six Dark Horse CX SS. I don't need it, I want it. It is freakin' smokin' and belt drive compatible.

We would complete each other.

I can't justify it. I can't. With one new frame already in the works, I might just push The Pie over the edge if I try to sneak one more in the house. Maybe I should just threaten to wear my newly acquired, totally hideous skinsuit around the house until she caves.

That, or threaten the masses with more naked images of me on the blog...

Maybe I should post up a paypal donation button, and I could blackmail my fanbase with potential threats of more personal nudity.

I always knew my penis would come in handy some day.

More nudity, mostly mine this time, still sorta safe for work

2011-11-17T07:03:00.010-05:00

I realize that some of my female readers might have been offended by yesterday's post (which just happened to be one of my most viewed posts in a long while). Not because of the whole "objectification of women thing", but because they would rather see half naked men (or for full naked, stick around till the end of the post) more than they want to see half naked women. Remember that I am the blogger that brought you wondrous joys in the past such as the Shirtless Club for Men:

I also brought you a shirtless Dejay Birtch...

as well as his better side:

How could you forget Fixie Dave Nice and his erotic Ergon Bio Cork oral fixation?

There was the time that I brought you the best of the best action from SSWC08 in Napa, Captain Morgan's Tightie Whitey Eating Ass:

I shared with you Pedro Non Grata's raspberry buttock slip, "Ooops, how did that happen?"

Lest we forget the male reaction to the objectification of a woman's bouncy bits holding a seatpost...

or the artistic shot of a half clothed and very vulnerable Kelly Klett.

And what about all that celebrity pron....

Bike Rumor's Master and Commander, Tyler "Captain Tool Bag" Benedict:

Honorary Shirtless Club for Men member Gunnar "Old Sexy Man" Shogren:

And who could forget this "come hither, lover" look from George "The Don't Call Me Baller for Nothing" Wisell:

It's not like I haven't made sacrifices of my own to please the ladies.

I even went man-on-man with Trans-Sylvania Epic promoter Mike Kuhn:

Who else goes that far for their lady readers?

None go that far.

I decided to go a step further. I broke out the 2006 Trans Rockies DVD, and went looking for Naked Mile footage. I found the part where Josh the Wonderboy shows his goods to the world, but I wasn't happy with the images I was able to snag from the video.

Not satisfied with the results I was getting, I decided to take the time to give you the best that I could deliver. presenting the never seen before by anyone other than the entire field of racers at the 2006 Trans Rockies, the staff, the volunteers, and everybody else in Canada, I give you my 1st place award winning Naked Mile 360° Cyclocross Dismount.

Ladies, I don't know if you use the term "spank bank", but if you do, you might wanna open another account because I'm sure your current one is now full.

Partial nudity, sorta safe for work

2011-11-16T06:54:00.015-05:00

A couple things came about because of the ride at Wilson's Creek on Saturday. Firstly, upon seeing some fly fishermen standing in the creek, I felt the need to yell something at them, but didn't. I realized it needed to be made into a t-shirt or something else.

Secondly, the sexy photo of me wearing a nipple wind protection device inspired Johnny Nutsack to create a calendar with sexy mountain biker photos. This was as far as he got before he found out somebody else in Charlotte already had the same idea.

He was kinda bummed to find out it had already been done, but as promised last week, I now have one of the new Dirt Diva calendars in my hands. It was delivered to me in a very appropriate, nondescript brown paper bag.

I opened it with great anticipation, not knowing entirely what to expect... well, other than half naked women and bikes.

Being that this calendar was supposed to be mountain biking specific, I took the time to scan over every photo to make sure that there was something that tied it to the sport we all love. See the CROPPED images below.

January

A bike outfitted with an old skool Awesome Strap. Very nice... dare I say, "tasteful?" We all know I'm a fan of pink parts.

February

Obviously riding a bike and wearing pads in the name of safety (wouldn't want to be a bad influence on children who want to ride their bikes naked).

March

Sneaking out of the house whilst naked for a ride. I do that all the time. Very legit. I've woken The Pie many times noisily pulling on my chamois in the bedroom.

April

A medal from a local race. Nice touch, but I must say the inclusion of a baby screams of sexual activity. I have not made any biological children of my own, but The Pie told me all about where babies come from and the "special hug."

May

This one took me awhile to figure out, but there is the discarded jersey resting on a bike seat in the forground. A bit of a "Where's Waldo" game, but there is no end to my sleuthiness.

June

Squishy fork, disc brake rotor, quick release, naked woman... just like every bike ride I go on... minus the squishy fork and naked woman.

July

I recognize that number plate from a local race series. I did not recognize the naked woman adorned with number plates. I will keep my eye out for her at the Winter Short Track series.

August

All the local female bike mechanics work in the nude. This is nothing special. There are perks to living in Charlotte. Bike pump... easy.

September

Apparently they do not make breast specific helmets. After a close study, I determined that this was just a standard helmet being used to shield one's breasts. I'm thinking one thing... tan lines.

October

One would naturally keep one's electrolytes by the stove. One would just as naturally mix up their bottles before a ride au naturel. Nothing strange here.

November

Naked, but at least getting ready to ride. Putting shoes on first is the true mark of a champion.

December

I had a hard time with this one. Naked woman? Check. Bike? Not to be found... for hours.

Finally I happened to glance up, and floating unnaturally above her hear in the distance... a bike.

Of course, if you want to see the whole thing and not just some scanned photos that have been cropped down in order to titillate and and not necessarily give up the milk for free, they can be purchased at a local bike shop in Charlotte or you can contact Mudman over on his blog.

All proceeds go to support Charlotte's only women's mountain bike club, and keep in mind that they coulda just sold cookies, but instead they offer you cheesecake.

I showed the calendar to The Pie last night, and she said "It's quite tasteful."

I let her know that Cathie Docherty did a great job presenting the women in a manner that was artistic and not in the "two straight chicks pulling each other's panties off" typical calendar kinda way. Keep in mind that I used a scanner to get these images on the blog, and that the actual photos are frame-able art.

Thus ends this gratuitous public service announcement.

If you find yourself looking for more nudity, might I direct you to the wonders of the internet.

What did I do?

2011-11-15T07:01:00.010-05:00

Being that Friday was Nigel Tufnel day, the city of Charlotte was on pseudo-holiday status. With the unpaid day not at work, I chose to kick around the house until things got warm enough to try out my new garb.

Yep, straight from Headquarters, my new Dirt Rag kit was in the house and in need of immediate break-in. On my way over to Zac's house, I ran into Who's this Joey tooling about town, and just like that, we were three headed to Lake Norman to check out the gnü gnar.

There is no guarantee that if you buy a Dirt Rag kit that you will look even close to this good. Use at your own risk.

Once again, I put the Ardent 2.4 through the paces and came away pleased. Puffy leaves were all over the trail, but confidence was found amongst the super sized corn flakes.

One might notice that I swapped from the Back Forty strap back to the Race strap.

The Back Forty worked fine, but aesthetically I just dig having my junk tucked up tight under my saddle. BTW: I haven't lost that 5mm allen key yet (it's tucked in near the hi-tech plastic hardware). Also BTW: Those of you wanting a strap that you can cut down to the perfect size will get what you're waiting for soon enough.

Saturday, I headed out to Wilson's Creek with the Zero Horsepower crew.

photo cred: Leanne McCann

Classic route selection on a puffy leaf covered trail kinda day with the bluebird skies that we don't see during the summer in North Carolina.

photo cred: Rich D (the other white Rich D)

Only some pseudo mechanicals and close calls on the trail.

photo cred: Rich D (the other white Rich D)

More puffy leaves made for some rough line selection on the rigid frok, but even with a few rim dingers, the Ardent stayed up and alive. Wilson's in the fall will keep your butt puckered... if you're into that kinda thing.

I love "off-season" rides. Not only is the Raxter great for bike transport, it's handy to lean on when you're trying to balance on 1.5 feet with a post-ride beer.

photo cred: Leanne McCann

Good times indeed. Thanks Leanne for letting me borrow your transparent tube top for the ride. Just the ticket for keeping the wind off the nips.

photo cred: Leanne McCann

It was time for some cyclocross spectating on Sunday. I wanted to race, but that's a long story that might get told later. Anyways, cheap six pack on my back, I rolled over astride the Berserker after I felt recovered enough from the day before. Cheering on the locals, mocking the out of towners, and generally doing our best to make the Charlotte cross scene feel a little bit more like an actual cross race with fun and stuff.

Who's this Joey did really well in the single speed race, despite riding a Raleigh strider bike.

It was not as irresponsible of an extended weekend as I'd hoped for, but it was fun nonetheless.

And a special thanks to Chris "Rainbow" Strout for suggesting I watch the "Girl with the tattoo who did this and that" Swedish soft-core porn trilogy. I missed out on a lot of sleep over the weekend thanks to you and your infatuation with movies that have to be read to be enjoyed. Bastard.

No apologies

2011-11-14T07:42:00.004-05:00

Living La Vida Bachelor this weekend took its toll on me.

I slept in today. It was still not enough. I feel like ass inside of another ass.

More later.

photo cred: Leanne McCann

It wasn't as hard on me as it was others.

Don't worry, Billy is okay.

Product Review: Nü Lüb

2011-11-11T07:36:00.001-05:00

I am long overdue for a product review that I've been putting off for no better reason than enthusiastic procrastination. I have been a user of the original formula Pro Link bicycle chain lubricant for some time, nigh on ten years all told. I have many brands of lubes on my work bench that have been beschwaggened unto me, but I just keep those around for guests. My personal lube of choice goes on my personal bikes of choice.

I was approached by Dick Bruceman (AKA Bruce Dickman, AKA PP Pounder) when he became the new Pro Gold rep at quite large and asked if I wanted to try some other Pro Gold products. The first bundle of joy brought me a vat of Pro Towels, a bubble packed Luber Pen, a plunger bellow device full of EPX Cycle Grease, and a spritzer bottle of Bike Wash. He also told me of another product coming down the line, a longer lasting version of my favorite Pro Link lube called Voyager.

I was always happy with Pro Link. It lasted as long as the majority of my rides lasted. I suppose it didn't make it all the way through messier and longer rides quite as well, but since I ride a single speed, chain lube is considered a luxury after many hours in the saddle. Hundred milers might have been finished on the squeaky side, but my iPod always took care of that minor issue.

My favorite thing about Pro Link was that it was always easy to get the chain clean after use. Sparkly clean, jangly clean, remove the chain and wear it out on the town as jewelry knowing that your blouse will remain clean clean.

I applied the new Voyager lube to my chain before this year's Shenandoah Mountain 100. The course was a bit moist this year, but the lube lasted all the way through to the finish. Being the lackadaisical ne'er do maintenance that I am, I rode an additional 40-50 miles over the course of the next few weeks without reapplying.

With not a noise or unwanted chain explosion.

Victory.

Since then I have not attempted to clean the chain thoroughly. I've wiped it down, reapplied, and rode it as is. It looks messy, but it's been fine.

I told Dick Bruceman that I really liked Voyager, but then he told me that it is no longer called Voyager.

It is now Xtreme Chain Lube.

I liked the name "Voyager." It made me think of the original Star Trek movie.

V'ger... the perplexing word spoke by the hotness of a bald woman with a bejeweled lower larynx region.

The beautiful romance between a robot woman and the one and only Jake Cutter.

Now the lube is known as Xtreme, pronounced ecks-stream, surely alluding to the term "extreme."

How do you know when something is "extreme?"

When it says so on the label.

Or if you live and eat in Japan, they simply use subtle imagery to suggest the extremity of a product:

No longer a brand name for a lubricant, the moniker Voyager is now the name of a heroic mountain biking comic book character.

He used to climb mountains, box, and save children from terrible peril, but now he is on a quest to find the perfect chain lube.

Fortunately he runs into a cartoon version of Dick Bruceman in a coolie hat and bathrobe that solves his dry chain dilemma.

Naming controversy aside, I still feel like I have to give the new Xtreme Chain Lube my...

SEAL OF SEMI-APPROVAL

Why? I just don't like the word "extreme." It is overused, like the words "epic," "knockers," and "hüsker dü." Although they craftily changed the spelling, it is easy to see through this marketing side speak, and I think a compromise would be the best solution moving forward.

and for our lube loving, subtlety embracing friends in the far east...

Buy some now.

And yes, lest we forget, today is Nigel Tufnel Day.

Find the one you love, hold them close, like sorta in a headlock, and make them Smell the Glove.

I think I'm alone now

2011-11-10T06:59:00.019-05:00

Who knows what I'm going to get into this weekend?

So, what do you think is precisely the point of having Piglet hold Tigger's tail at this moment? What's the washtub for? Why does Pooh have his hands behind his back? Why does Rabbit have to watch and why isn't he more enthused? When do they get to know Tigger "inside and out?"

Anyways, The Pie and Fajita are on their way to Florida, so I'll be living la vida bachelor until Sunday. That means I have to make the most of my time over the next few days. Since I'm off for Nigel Tufnel day tomorrow, I'll be riding as much as possible, and when I'm sick of riding, I'll go watch others ride and jump off their bikes and back on and stand around fronting in their skinsuits.

Yesterday, I got out for some tire testing.

The Rampage has been on vacation for over a week now, and the Ardent 2.4 has been taking up the space between my front rim and the ground. Originally I had it aired up to my Rampage pressure of 18PSI, but it has proven too firm. On yesterday's ride, I was down to 15PSI, and the ride was much improved. Even at that pressure, I can feel no wallowing or unwanted roll. The tire is predictable and fast rolling, and dare I say "a contender." I will keep it there until I can get it out to the mountains this weekend for a true test.

Two things I can say about this tire are that it is absolutely a MAXXIS...

and that I like the white stencil font better than the original spooky green stencil font.

On my ride at the Backyard Trails, I noticed a lot of new work going on. This was not some of it.

I also accidentally ended up riding in a bunch that included Miss November from the just released Dirt Diva calendar (which I may or may not have more info about at some point).

On my ride home, I noticed that my neighbors are enhancing their front yard with a sweet double.

While I'm sure they intend to put that dirt to some use that will add to the value of their home, I think it's a shame that it can't be shaped and left there for awhile... like until next spring.

In Stickel news, the other day Head Stickeler Steve posted this on facebook:

I couldn't imagine what he was talking about, but when I closed my eyes and tried real hard, I came up with this:

A little over a week later, he posted this image and solved the mystery:

That is a machined yoke (not yolk) for a short stay By:Stickel. I enquired for further information, and Steve responded:

"The yoke pieces replace the previous version, which was made from 8 sheetmetal parts, bent, and seam-welded together. The new left/right assemblies are made of 2 clamshell halves welded together. . The design gives greater tire and chainring clearance than found on long-chainstay frames.... made right here in Asheville, NC."

Such a feet of engineering leads me to believe that his beard is just a ruse to make us think he's an artist when truly he is more of an evil genius kinda guy (normally clean shaven).

Photo cred: Brado

I mean, he does live in a hidden lair disguised as a massive rootball on a deserted island in the middle of the French Broad River in Asheville, NC (with a personal submarine in the garage).

Speaking of evil and genius...

Virginia Mountain Bike Trail from Scott Wootten on Vimeo.

Thank goodness something came in the mail to talk about...

2011-11-08T07:06:00.006-05:00

Yesterday I got Dirt Rag #160ED in the mail. Happy day.

Of course, another brilliant article by me. Not brilliant due to its content, but rather its timing. You see, I wrote an article about how I'm not a big fan of night riding, and between the time I wrote the article and the time it was published, I've gone on two rather pleasant night rides.

Whatever.

My article just happens to be justly juxtaposed across the page to an interview with MTBR.com founder, Francis Cebedo. Two industry movers and shakers, legends of the sport of making sport around our sport. He created a website that allows mountain bikers to share and shill information across the globe, and I started a blog that allows me to do all that on my own.

You have been moved and shaken, no?

Also of note in this issue of Dirt Rag, the new ad for the 2012 Trans-Sylvania Epic, featuring none other than Harrisonburg's own first lady of mountain biking, Sue Haywood.

Personally, knowing that sex sells, I woulda used the naked photo of Sue. Better yet, a themed series of ads, The Women of TSE (not Testicular Self Exam). The men would register in droves.

I also spied a nice piece on Asheville's leading maker of adult toys, Industry Nine.

By "toys" I mean "wheels", and by "adult" I mean "kids can't afford them." I can't wait for my next set of Industry Nine wheels that are being built up for the new By:Stickel. I think they're going to try to machine the entire wheel from one solid hunk of California sequoia. They've been doing some test runs trying to figure out how to make moving parts from a solid hunk of endangered wood.

They went from this:

to this:

in just the first few hours of prototyping (and only went through three sequoias in the process)

All right, those carved wooden pliers are actually from the Warther Museum in Dover, OH, a place I actually visited as a small Ohio boy. I remember seeing all kinds of cool shit like a CARVED replica of Abraham Lincoln's funeral train.

Carved.

From wood.

You can now buy the plastic version from China, $15 for a case of 100 trains.

Into production mode

2011-11-07T07:00:00.010-05:00

Would I say this first weekend of the "off-season" was productive?

Perhaps.

Saturday was a trail work day at the Backyard Trails (AKA BYT). This is the closest trail system to my house, and although this trail was unofficial for years, the hard work of a few dedicated builders has seen it become officially official. With official status came the potential for much expansion, and that is something I want a part of this winter.

Photo cred: Alex Hawn

Corridor cleansing, grubbing, and a little rock armoring of the approach to a feature... built for dogs apparently.

Photo cred: Alex Hawn

Sunday was the big swap meet in Charlotte that has seen slight reverse growth over the years, but still ends up being a good place for me to save money on things I didn't know I needed.

Like this:

A Park Tool MLP-1, master link pliers for chains of the type that I currently own one of (not PC-1's). Just having the experience of having to break a 10 speed master link without them was enough to convince me that if I need them at some point in the future, I will not have wasted my $5.

I didn't get much of anything that wasn't more than just a trusty back-up to something I know I already love. Work tires? Fail. Looks like I need to get something going on there soon. Meh.

I stared at a set of carbon tubular rimmed Cane Creek 26" wheels shod with Tufo tires, but I could hardly figure out a reason to buy them. They woulda looked divine on a new $95 Nummers frame.

I also finally got my hands on a cheap, ironic skinsuit. $10 for a very loud, ill-fitting skinsuit with an old school chamois made from...

wait for it...

chamois.

It is bad? I am going to have to wait for a very special occasion to break it out. Modeling it for the blog would spoil whatever surprise I was hoping for in the future. I'll just have to be happy wearing it around the house for now.

I also got to help plan something that I can't talk about until it gets past the planning stages. I'm so excited that I dreamed about it last night... except my plan didn't have alligators. We might need to plan for alligators.... I'll have to tell Eric.

Hmmm... Walt was biting my Final Countdown thing yesterday. Doesn't he know that's my PMBAR jam?

I'll give you a $1.50 for that

2011-11-04T06:50:00.008-04:00

Before I get to anything worthwhile...

Registration for the 2012 6 Hours of Warrior Creek opened at midnight on Sunday.

Ten hours later, 350 spots sold out... entirely.

That's nuts. Well, it is only the best six/twelve hours of anything I've ever done, so maybe the quality of the event has reached legendary status in less than four years. I'm in, but whether or not I'll start "training" before or after the event is still TBD.

In other recession defying news, there are already fifteen single speed riders signed up for the 2012 Breck Epic. There were only seven SS'ers last year, but as of right now there are eight right coasters and seven altitude enhanced cheaters in the running. Although it's only official in a facebook sense, the Breck Epic has now become the SSSRWC (Single Speed Stage Race World Championship). It's shaping up to be a showdown of non-legendary status. When asked what he thought about this recent development, last year's SS winner Vince Anderson had this to say:

"Metal on metal!!"

Sorry, Vince only speaks Metal, but a quick cut and paste into Babelfish gives us a better idea of what he's saying:

"I welcome this chance to compete at such a high level with other talented athletes from across the globe. It would be a huge honor to win next year and pull on the rainbow Carhartts for the first time. Metal!"

Will I be at the Breck Epic for a fourth year in a row? Who knows. I can't commit to much of anything more than a one day race at this point, but it is just November after all. I'm enslaved to the classics (6 Hours of Warrior Creek, PMBAR, and ORAMM), I have to get out to SSUSA (or else George will cut me off) but other than that... it's a wait and see.

Sunday is the big swap meet in Charlotte. I'll be there looking for skull caps, knee warmers, used throat lozenges, and work tires. My current work tires currently give me a nice view of the tube in too many spots, so I may have to prioritize tires over lozenges.

The party's over

2011-11-03T06:55:00.008-04:00

What more could possibly be said about the Double Dare?

How about the fact that if I had to DNF at a race, at least it was a race that encouraged ten hours of drinking by the fire.

photo cred: Brado

Yes, sitting by the fire watching riders come in to tell their tale was priceless. Watching them go back out again at 6:00AM was even better. In the above image, you see the guy dressed up in riding type clothing? That's Adam Pisgah BA Penny, who although coming in shortly after midnight, was told that he was within the fuzzy gray area of midnight and thusly he would be allowed to continue (and win with Mark Sacket). He looked happy and sad at the same time. I'm one of the people sitting (right next to "Just Katie Miller") on the ground listening. I was just happy at that point. My sadness had been liquified.

I was reminded of one of the better moments by Chris Strout in Monday's comments:

I think my favorite moment was at 5:25 or so when Eric first got to the fire.

Clay: "Eric! You didn't hear us come in!"

Eric (completely deadpan): "Yes, yes we did."

Good god you guys were loud.

Yes, yes we were.

I had a nice time being "those guys." I must say that Clay has mastered the art of dry humor. He kept me entertained for hours, and although I've never spent that much time in his company, I welcome the next time that we both end up DNF'ing together (although his DNF was much harder to earn than mine).

All the "racing" is done for 2011. Time to clean up the bike room (done) and hang the number plates on the wall (not done).

I managed to squeeze in one "W" for the year (as long as we include stage wins), and if a season's success could be measured in fun points, I would say I clearly came out ahead of the competition by a kilometer.

Until next year...

I've fallen behind on many topics I thought I would cover at some point but didn't, so I suppose it's time to get around to that...

eventually.

Tülbag, meet toolbag

2011-11-02T07:40:00.004-04:00

So here's what maybe kinda sucks about my Double Dare experience.

Around the campfire, the best idea I heard for fixing an extra large gash in a tire (if you don't have dental floss and a needle) was to cut out a nice piece of water bottle and use it for an ultra-tough boot. I've been carrying a knife as part of my emergency mountain kit for years, so this idea would have been totally doable, but as I would find out Sunday as I unpacked my gear, unnecessary.

You see, leading up to the race, I was torn between using my Camelbak Charge or my Camelbak Octane LR. With the OctaneLR, I would have three gel flasks at hand (one on the chest, two on the waist), but much less room for gear. I prefer wearing the Octane LR, and I had it loaded and ready to go right up until two days before the event. With the predicted temps getting lower and lower, I decided the capacity to carry extra clothes outweighed the convenience of eating, so I unloaded the Octane LR and moved everything over to the Charge. Obviously the Charge LR woulda been the best of both worlds, but whatever.

Well, maybe I didn't move everything over...

I noticed that I had originally packed a heavy multi-tool that I had been carrying around out west for my more complex squishy bike. I tossed it aside and replaced it with my Tülbag. It has only the bare essentials that I might need tool-wise.

The other factor involved in this equation was an experiment I'd been doing. Lately I've been riding around with a 5mm tucked in my Awesome Strap - Race, not in with the tube, but out near the plastic hardware. Since I have bolt-on skewers, this puts everything I need in my hands immediately when I get a flat.

So, I tear a sidewall, pull off my Awesome Strap - Race, dig around for some booting materials (Gorilla tape and a powerfood wrapper), and never remember that I had my Tülbag with me the whole time.

Why does that matter?

Here are the standard contents of the Tülbag... at least what matters.

Yes, my custom made, never used before MAXXIS tire boot. I had it the whole freaking time, but I never remembered it since I had everything I needed for a flat under my saddle . Meh.

Would it have worked? I had to know.

Even though the tear was widened from my original fix and subsequent goitering, there was absolutely NO GOITERING going on now. It was, and woulda been, a solid fix.

The tire is now garbage, but a lesson has been learned.

Maybe even two lessons were learned...

Risky business indeed.

2011 Double Dare... well, half of it anyways

2011-11-01T06:50:00.010-04:00

It's not like we planned on just one day of riding. Zac and I got to the Cove Creek campsite with plenty of time to set-up a full-on base camp. I even asked Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever if there were any rules against my planned Contador double pistolera victory salute I was gonna pull out Sunday when we crossed the line.

photo cred: Emily

We were readier than most, but not as ready as some. I was collapsing under the enormous weight of my pack while waiting for the start.

photo cred: Emily

Yes, we were mighty, we planned on winning, and our smugness filled the forest.

photo cred: Brado

Zac was not taking a dump when the race started. He was fetching his jacket. He did get back in time to help me find the last of eleven (ten mandatory, one bonus) checkpoints.

photo cred: Brado

We came up with a plan of attack. It was more like three plans, one great, one not so great, and one that would prove that our eyes were bigger than our stomachs. We were off.

photo cred: Brado

I was more off than most.

photo cred: Brado

We were headed straight to the mandatory checkpoint with a slight detour to grab a somewhat on the way checkpoint at Club Gap.

After nabbing it, we made it to the approach up to the mandatory.

Pilot Rock is one of my favorite descents in Pisgah. I feel the exact opposite about climbing it. It's basically a rubble filled hike-a-bike to the top. It sucked. We were rewarded with the short descent on the connector trail to the checkpoint where the volunteer was waiting. For a half checkpoint, there was a special test. Either shoot a slingshot at a plastic pumpkin and hit it two out of three tries, OR eat four pickled eggs in under a minute. We went for the eggs (my idea) because I thought it was a guarantee. I failed and almost threw up as Zac carried more than his weight in the challenge. He cleared 2.5 eggs in a minute, but I still had .25 in my mouth when the time ended. Meh.

Then, under my plan which was agreed upon by all members (Zac), we hiked/ran three miles up to the top of Mount Pisgah for a double bonus checkpoint. Running sucks, especially when you haven't ran in years, super-especially when you're wearing a fully loaded pack and you just got done pushing a bike up Pilot Rock, eating pickled eggs, and you're following someone half your age who's running up the mountain like there's a kegger at the top. It was cold, windy, and there was some snow on the ground. Odd looks from hikers abound.

On the way back down, I wrecked twice. Once on my ass and once on my knee. Running sucks... did I mention that already? It was well worth the TWO BONUS CP'S.

It was nice to finally get back to our bikes after running close to 1.5 hours. The upcoming descent down Laurel Mountain would be our first real fun of the day... after almost five hours of racing. Our pace seemed reasonable, in a "we can keep this up for two days" kinda way, although it was becoming apparent that my initial plan to get eleven of twelve CP's was way too ambitious. I was starting to think we were gonna have to settle for seven to eight CP's based on their arrangement on the map. There were two clusters of three that I'm pretty sure most people were going to have to choose a single cluster if they still wanted to get to the mandatory and be back before midnight. My theory made me feel like we were in good shape...

until...

On a totally innocuous section of Laurel Mountain I felt my rear tire react to something under the leaves, and then WHOOOOSHHHHHHHHHH....

All the air pressure in my tire was gone in an instant.

Upon inspection, I saw that my tire had just been gashed on the sidewall. Big time. I calmly stopped, removed the bead, dried the inside with an armwarmer, duct taped the hole, booted it with a powerfood wrapper, and placed the tire back on the rim. As I added air, I watched the hole goiter out. I lowered the air pressure, and we rode off hoping for the best. I inspected it every few minutes, and the hole was spreading and the tape goitering even more.

Zac and I had a meeting. If we went out for three-four more checkpoints, we would be putting ourselves out even further from safety and with the approaching darkness, the sub-freezing temps were coming hard. If the tire failed to a certain degree, we'd never get a tube to stay in it. Be heroes (with the possibility of spending the night walking in the woods) or turn it around and ride back to the start.

We were not heroes.

The twenty mile ride back to Cove Creek sucked. The disappointment was palpable. Only the thoughts of beer and food kept us from turning native and building a shelter. We piddled our way back to camp, stopping to put on warmer clothes, eat, drain the 100 oz of water I was needlessly carrying all over the place, looking around a roadside campsite looking for friends, and came into the finish from the wrong way expecting to get DQ'ed.

Eric told us that not only were we not DQ'ed, we were the first ones back with four CP's (with the mandatory) and "winning." He tried to talk me into borrowing a tire and heading out to nab one more CP (something like ten miles away?).

No.

We came to Double Dare to win, and four or five CP's on day one was not gonna do it. We were going to drink beer and that's that.

I spent the rest of the night watching people come in.

I know my flat tire was Garth Prosser's fault. I couldn't prove it. I just know it. He ruins everything that is good.

photo cred: Brado

When we (those of us that were left at the fire) realized that it was 4:00AM, we decided to stay up, continue with the ruining of our respective livers, and watch the start at 6:00AM. Eric awoke at 5:00AM to empty kegs and noisy, well lubricated revelers.

Win.

More soon.*

*Y'inzers can give me all the advice you want on how to field repair a gashed sidewall, but after sitting at the fire for ten hours with hordes of experienced sidewall gash fixer-uppers, I think I've heard them all.

No remorse, no regrets... well, maybe a few

2011-10-31T07:37:00.004-04:00

I'm awake and alive on Monday morning, so things didn't go as planned at the Double Dare this weekend...

but,

the 2.5 hours of sleep I got Saturday night (well, Sunday morning) has left me wrecked, so all I'm saying now is that I'll have to restart my DNF-free streak today.

More tomorrow.

photo cred: Brado

I'm not sick, but something is definitely wrong

2011-10-28T06:55:00.006-04:00

I found out why my image came up on the cyclingnews.com app yesterday.

I was used as the poster boy for the announcement of the 3rd edition of the Trans-Sylvania Epic coming in 2012.

Serious? Serious eye candy indeed.

Yes, that was me "getting serious" before I lost it and stopped being all serious and stuff. Next year's race will have a few changes (for the better), but I'm not going to talk about that since they went to all the trouble of doing that for me. Will I be there? That's what all the ladies want to know. I'm still not sure. I mean, isn't the world gonna end next year? Did they settle on a date for that yet?

Segway segue..

So, Double Dare tomorrow, starting at noon, ending at midnight, then restarting at 6:00AM (in below freezing temps), and then ending for good at 6:00PM. I've had nightmares reliving the 2008 event for three years now. Following Captain Morgan as he mashed his way up 1206 in the dark, shotgunning beers at Bradley Creek, fiddling with seatpost parts that are strewn all over Pilot Rock, walking next to a useless fixed gear machine on a leaf covered Squirrel Gap looking over my shoulder at what appeared to be the lights for a gay martian landing strip...

all to end up here...

at the finish line of day one...

ten minutes late.

Hypothermic, shelled, confused. How did we manage to end up out there for twelve hours and ten minutes?

Maybe because there was too much of this going on:

All right, maybe not just a "maybe" but a "positively because this was going on."

This year will be more of the same. Ten possible checkpoints each day. Each checkpoint placed so temptingly close together to encourage you to continue your quest and push the limits of time and space. Zac and I will be going for the win, no doubt about it. I haven't come up with a strategy as of yet, but let's all assume that whence I do, it will be grandiose in proportion and scale.

Win at all costs or come home losers.

Since I will be getting back at a disgusting time on Sunday, I will not be posting on Monday... unless I once again overshoot the time cut-off on day one and go home early on Sunday.

That could easily happen.