Wish I could have been there.
Thursday, 22 December 2011
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
Blog Slow - Out Daily.
Not much to write today but thought I'd make a quick entry.
Since getting the new Pugsley and in between kids, work and X-mas shopping, I've been getting out riding a surprising amount. Obviously, because of this, the blog takes a hit and suffers a drought. In all honesty, I actually feel a little anxious right now as I type this. I have a ton of stuff to get done! I need to get some shopping done before meeting my wife for a quick lunch and then heading to work. If I’m quick, I may be able to squeeze another ride in (albeit a short one) and typing this entry certainly isn’t helping at all.
Anyway, I captured this self portrait on yesterday’s ride and thought I’d post it today (along with a couple others) as it flows well from the previous entry of “Air Time”. Ha! A great transition from one entry to another without planning of any kind! :-)
We don’t often see Pugsleys from this angle.
Another shot along the rail trail I’ve been using to amass some miles.
Another night. Hit the beach with it and rolled a fairly long outing. Cold as hell but it was fantastic.
The very next morning I jumped right back on and took off again. I didn’t even take the time to pack a saddle bag or ANYTHING. It could have ended badly but............it didn’t.
Anyway, like I said, I have tons of stuff to get done so I’ll leave this little lame entry and run. I’ll try and come up with something far more appealing (again, only to bike nerds) next time.
Cheers!
Thanks very much for reading,
Steve A
Since getting the new Pugsley and in between kids, work and X-mas shopping, I've been getting out riding a surprising amount. Obviously, because of this, the blog takes a hit and suffers a drought. In all honesty, I actually feel a little anxious right now as I type this. I have a ton of stuff to get done! I need to get some shopping done before meeting my wife for a quick lunch and then heading to work. If I’m quick, I may be able to squeeze another ride in (albeit a short one) and typing this entry certainly isn’t helping at all.
Anyway, I captured this self portrait on yesterday’s ride and thought I’d post it today (along with a couple others) as it flows well from the previous entry of “Air Time”. Ha! A great transition from one entry to another without planning of any kind! :-)
We don’t often see Pugsleys from this angle.
Another shot along the rail trail I’ve been using to amass some miles.
Another night. Hit the beach with it and rolled a fairly long outing. Cold as hell but it was fantastic.
The very next morning I jumped right back on and took off again. I didn’t even take the time to pack a saddle bag or ANYTHING. It could have ended badly but............it didn’t.
Anyway, like I said, I have tons of stuff to get done so I’ll leave this little lame entry and run. I’ll try and come up with something far more appealing (again, only to bike nerds) next time.
Cheers!
Thanks very much for reading,
Steve A
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
Air Time......
Bikes in the air........I'm a fan! I'm a fan of looking at bikes in the air. I'm a fan of flying bikes in the air too. But, after some thought, it became apparent that I'm a fan of anything flying in the air that is "supposed" to be planted firmly on the ground so, naturally, it got me thinking............ Why is that?
Well, I think that maybe, it's the Duke Boys' fault.
As a kid, I used to get insanely hyped and would do ANYTHING not to miss my Dukes Of Hazzard. It was the ultimate weapon in the threat game coming from my parents, and they knew it. Do something wrong, and the Dukes are out! I had cars, PJ's, shirts, posters, you name it. I was hardcore. Why? 'Cause to a kid, they were like gods. They got the girls, they kicked ass, they had bow and arrows! Some of those arrows even exploded!!! They had a crazy fast car and, the best part, they jumped that thing!
The Boys didn't do little jumps either. Noooo, noo, no. They meant business. They jumped cars, creeks, trains, construction crews, even a barn in one episode for Christ sakes! How could a kid NOT think the were gods.
I often wondered why my dad never jumped the tracks by our place or why he didn't crash through road blocks and jump the traffic jams so we could get to where we were headed in better time. WTF??
Around the same time I was into BMX and would spend an awful lot of time ripping it up with my friends and cousin Jesse jumping around. BMX Plus magazine was the print of choice and my mom an dad were cool enough to get me subscriptions every year at Christmas. I would leaf through reading every page and dream of flying around looking as cool as all the pros.......
I can assure you though. Despite my thousands of jumps on BMX - none looked as good.
Soon after, I took a hiatus from the bike world. I spent the next 12 years as a hardcore skater. I lived, breathed, and bled skating. It was everything and, to this day, even as a cyclist, you can still find me rolling around on one now and again. In the day, my subconscious obsession with gravity defiance was still strong though and my board and I spent almost as much time off the ground as we did on because, once again, of sick pics like this.
Mark Gonzales. Any skater worth their salt knew/knows this man as a true skater and a pure legend to the sport. Not mainly due to his skill or style (not that he didn't overflow with both) but because of how true he was to the sport, still today. He approached it differently than any other pro out there and I respect him to no end when it comes to skating. He IS skateboarding. He IS another god...
Anyway, fast forward through several years, a blown out knee (skating and a mini-ramp catastrophe) and part way through college and I'm back to 2 wheels. I'm riding mountain bikes. I'm an XC guy and there is some jumping involved but I feel my eagerness waning. I still leave the ground on occasion if the need arrises, I have no problem with that, but, don't go out of my way looking for a juicy launch point.
I LOVE watching WRC and still LOVE to see cars flying around.......
The cool thing about WRC though is that it's real! The cars stay together and keep right on racing. The drivers are incredible and even to non-racing fans, it's incredibly entertaining.
Sometimes however, they're in the air for other reasons........LOL
That's what happens when the driver hears "4 right, opens" instead of "4 right, tightens". No worries though, driver and co-driver walked away unhurt as they do 99.9999% of the time.
Yeah, cars in the air.....
Even a couple of years ago I was blown away AND impressed by these dudes and their backyard jump.
Never in a million years could I have done one so stylish and hilarious.
Come on, seriously, if you're watching this, thinking back to the days when you were young with pretty well no responsibility, tell me this isn't something you would LOVE to have been a part of. This is hysterical! It's one of those "remember when" moments! It's awesome! It's inspiring. Inspiring to the point that a friend and I had planned to do something similar (and this is just a few years ago) with my Golf GTI had I not gotten a good price for it when I sold it. We were PUMPED!! Our wives thought we were being ridiculous; we thought we'd be heroes!! The car was 11 years old at the time and was well worn but, alas, I got some good cash so the plan fell through..... :-(
Someday......
So, if i've managed to hold your attention and you've read this far, you're probably wondering what the hell I'm on about and why I'm wasting your time like this. Well, truthfully, I'm not even totally sure myself but there was a trigger for my rambling thoughts: that's for sure. That trigger was Zdeněk Stybar.
"What/who the faulk is Zdeněk Stybar????" is what most of you are probably thinking. Well, let me start with the trigger.....
Zdeněk Stybar is another inspirational character. Inspirational enough in many ways far more important than this little blog entry but also IS the inspiration for this little entry.
Zdeněk Stybar: Cyclocross World Champion, 70 victories (at the time of this post) and counting. In a nutshell - fast as faulk!
I spotted the pic above on the web at some point and it triggered all those old thoughts and feelings of when I was a kid leafing through BMX Plus, Thrasher or Transworld Skateboarding magazines. The dude is rockin' the course so hard and flyin' (literally) while WEARING the rainbow jersey. Come on........many sit up once they're in the jersey (and blame it on that old "curse") but the brother is putting it down! After the photo was put out there not long ago he was questioned about it, in broken English, he was quoted as saying, "I love to jump. I like it." and there you have it. That pic, the man representing that jersey and those words; the trigger.
He's not lying about liking his jumps :-) Here again at another time and another place.
He's becoming known for it......
It all got me thinking: again. What was the big deal really. I mean, it's not like there aren't a billion people jumping dirt jumps around the globe doing tail-whips and backflips and all that. For years there have been people everywhere hucking insane drops and man-made obstacles.........Jesus, THAT'S spread like a rash. Why was it that this particular photo was the one that I was so impressed with? But, then, it dawned on me.
It's the cross bike! Once again, we're back to something that, at least for the most part, is planted on the ground and not often seen flying through the air. At least not like THIS. I know, I know. The bikes can and do take a beating with all the dismounting, lifting, jumping back on, hopping of barriers, mud, sand, rough terrain blah, blah, blah, and I know they do jump them on occasion......I know what cyclocross is. In this pic though, not only is he off the ground, but he's styling it up! Much like in the good old days when I was a kid reading BMX Plus.
He's not only doing his job (as a pro) and racing competitively, but he is taking the time (during races even) and styling it up for the cameras too. Seriously, if you were sponsoring this cat, wouldn't you give him a big hug even if he didn't finish on the podium? He's blasted the sponsor's name straight into the limelight just by being "rad". The fact that it's a cross bike just adds to it. You really don't see guys looking so good on cross bikes most of the time and to most, at least here in North America, who don't even know what a cross bike is, they think they're jumping road bikes.
Before anyone bashes me here I want to say that I am in no way knocking the other competitors or ANY cyclocrosser in any way. All have amazing skill in doing what they do. I'm always impressed to no end by it all and enjoy the sport immensely. All I'm saying is that most are focussed on the task at hand - which is racing and trying to win - but to some CX'ers, this "style" thing comes naturally, and it makes it all the more impressive.
A cross bike in the air - it's a thing of beauty. Rarely seen in this way.
Here is another example......the rider is unknown to me but, once again, freaking cool as hell to throw it down in a race.
Saving the best for last. I believe this is Dave Wood absolutely LAUNCHING his rig. Not only is it at night, but, God damn it, he's sporting a suit and HE'S IN THE DROPS!!!!
I think the guy in the far left of the frame has the same expression I would have. He's thinking, "Mother f#%ker is that ever cool.". He's thinking it because there is a young one just to his left in daddy's arms. No potty mouth around the kids folks....
I've come to the conclusion that I will never, no matter how hard I try, be as cool as any of these guys, the Duke Boys or Mark Gonzales but I sure do love seeing what they put out there. Spectacular!
Anyway, that's my entry for today. Hope it was worthy. Once again, staying true to the blog, it's a lot of random useless thoughts put into words.
Cheers,
Thanks for reading, and I'll leave you with how cross racers DON'T like to go over barriers.
For the record.....Joey is OK
Well, I think that maybe, it's the Duke Boys' fault.
As a kid, I used to get insanely hyped and would do ANYTHING not to miss my Dukes Of Hazzard. It was the ultimate weapon in the threat game coming from my parents, and they knew it. Do something wrong, and the Dukes are out! I had cars, PJ's, shirts, posters, you name it. I was hardcore. Why? 'Cause to a kid, they were like gods. They got the girls, they kicked ass, they had bow and arrows! Some of those arrows even exploded!!! They had a crazy fast car and, the best part, they jumped that thing!
The Boys didn't do little jumps either. Noooo, noo, no. They meant business. They jumped cars, creeks, trains, construction crews, even a barn in one episode for Christ sakes! How could a kid NOT think the were gods.
I often wondered why my dad never jumped the tracks by our place or why he didn't crash through road blocks and jump the traffic jams so we could get to where we were headed in better time. WTF??
Around the same time I was into BMX and would spend an awful lot of time ripping it up with my friends and cousin Jesse jumping around. BMX Plus magazine was the print of choice and my mom an dad were cool enough to get me subscriptions every year at Christmas. I would leaf through reading every page and dream of flying around looking as cool as all the pros.......
I can assure you though. Despite my thousands of jumps on BMX - none looked as good.
Soon after, I took a hiatus from the bike world. I spent the next 12 years as a hardcore skater. I lived, breathed, and bled skating. It was everything and, to this day, even as a cyclist, you can still find me rolling around on one now and again. In the day, my subconscious obsession with gravity defiance was still strong though and my board and I spent almost as much time off the ground as we did on because, once again, of sick pics like this.
Mark Gonzales. Any skater worth their salt knew/knows this man as a true skater and a pure legend to the sport. Not mainly due to his skill or style (not that he didn't overflow with both) but because of how true he was to the sport, still today. He approached it differently than any other pro out there and I respect him to no end when it comes to skating. He IS skateboarding. He IS another god...
Anyway, fast forward through several years, a blown out knee (skating and a mini-ramp catastrophe) and part way through college and I'm back to 2 wheels. I'm riding mountain bikes. I'm an XC guy and there is some jumping involved but I feel my eagerness waning. I still leave the ground on occasion if the need arrises, I have no problem with that, but, don't go out of my way looking for a juicy launch point.
I LOVE watching WRC and still LOVE to see cars flying around.......
The cool thing about WRC though is that it's real! The cars stay together and keep right on racing. The drivers are incredible and even to non-racing fans, it's incredibly entertaining.
Sometimes however, they're in the air for other reasons........LOL
That's what happens when the driver hears "4 right, opens" instead of "4 right, tightens". No worries though, driver and co-driver walked away unhurt as they do 99.9999% of the time.
Yeah, cars in the air.....
Even a couple of years ago I was blown away AND impressed by these dudes and their backyard jump.
Never in a million years could I have done one so stylish and hilarious.
Come on, seriously, if you're watching this, thinking back to the days when you were young with pretty well no responsibility, tell me this isn't something you would LOVE to have been a part of. This is hysterical! It's one of those "remember when" moments! It's awesome! It's inspiring. Inspiring to the point that a friend and I had planned to do something similar (and this is just a few years ago) with my Golf GTI had I not gotten a good price for it when I sold it. We were PUMPED!! Our wives thought we were being ridiculous; we thought we'd be heroes!! The car was 11 years old at the time and was well worn but, alas, I got some good cash so the plan fell through..... :-(
Someday......
So, if i've managed to hold your attention and you've read this far, you're probably wondering what the hell I'm on about and why I'm wasting your time like this. Well, truthfully, I'm not even totally sure myself but there was a trigger for my rambling thoughts: that's for sure. That trigger was Zdeněk Stybar.
"What/who the faulk is Zdeněk Stybar????" is what most of you are probably thinking. Well, let me start with the trigger.....
Zdeněk Stybar is another inspirational character. Inspirational enough in many ways far more important than this little blog entry but also IS the inspiration for this little entry.
Zdeněk Stybar: Cyclocross World Champion, 70 victories (at the time of this post) and counting. In a nutshell - fast as faulk!
I spotted the pic above on the web at some point and it triggered all those old thoughts and feelings of when I was a kid leafing through BMX Plus, Thrasher or Transworld Skateboarding magazines. The dude is rockin' the course so hard and flyin' (literally) while WEARING the rainbow jersey. Come on........many sit up once they're in the jersey (and blame it on that old "curse") but the brother is putting it down! After the photo was put out there not long ago he was questioned about it, in broken English, he was quoted as saying, "I love to jump. I like it." and there you have it. That pic, the man representing that jersey and those words; the trigger.
He's not lying about liking his jumps :-) Here again at another time and another place.
He's becoming known for it......
It all got me thinking: again. What was the big deal really. I mean, it's not like there aren't a billion people jumping dirt jumps around the globe doing tail-whips and backflips and all that. For years there have been people everywhere hucking insane drops and man-made obstacles.........Jesus, THAT'S spread like a rash. Why was it that this particular photo was the one that I was so impressed with? But, then, it dawned on me.
It's the cross bike! Once again, we're back to something that, at least for the most part, is planted on the ground and not often seen flying through the air. At least not like THIS. I know, I know. The bikes can and do take a beating with all the dismounting, lifting, jumping back on, hopping of barriers, mud, sand, rough terrain blah, blah, blah, and I know they do jump them on occasion......I know what cyclocross is. In this pic though, not only is he off the ground, but he's styling it up! Much like in the good old days when I was a kid reading BMX Plus.
He's not only doing his job (as a pro) and racing competitively, but he is taking the time (during races even) and styling it up for the cameras too. Seriously, if you were sponsoring this cat, wouldn't you give him a big hug even if he didn't finish on the podium? He's blasted the sponsor's name straight into the limelight just by being "rad". The fact that it's a cross bike just adds to it. You really don't see guys looking so good on cross bikes most of the time and to most, at least here in North America, who don't even know what a cross bike is, they think they're jumping road bikes.
Before anyone bashes me here I want to say that I am in no way knocking the other competitors or ANY cyclocrosser in any way. All have amazing skill in doing what they do. I'm always impressed to no end by it all and enjoy the sport immensely. All I'm saying is that most are focussed on the task at hand - which is racing and trying to win - but to some CX'ers, this "style" thing comes naturally, and it makes it all the more impressive.
A cross bike in the air - it's a thing of beauty. Rarely seen in this way.
Here is another example......the rider is unknown to me but, once again, freaking cool as hell to throw it down in a race.
Saving the best for last. I believe this is Dave Wood absolutely LAUNCHING his rig. Not only is it at night, but, God damn it, he's sporting a suit and HE'S IN THE DROPS!!!!
I think the guy in the far left of the frame has the same expression I would have. He's thinking, "Mother f#%ker is that ever cool.". He's thinking it because there is a young one just to his left in daddy's arms. No potty mouth around the kids folks....
I've come to the conclusion that I will never, no matter how hard I try, be as cool as any of these guys, the Duke Boys or Mark Gonzales but I sure do love seeing what they put out there. Spectacular!
Anyway, that's my entry for today. Hope it was worthy. Once again, staying true to the blog, it's a lot of random useless thoughts put into words.
Cheers,
Thanks for reading, and I'll leave you with how cross racers DON'T like to go over barriers.
For the record.....Joey is OK
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
The Pugsley
Figured I better update you on the Puglsey that my wife brought home for me (see previous entry, October 31st). Not much to say other than AWESOME! The bike is a riot, that's for sure. I think it turned out pretty nicely too! I'm happy with it at least....
Finished the assembly using spare parts buried in my parts bin in the basement.
I'll probably make a couple of changes such as Surly Moustache bars and a different saddle at some point but not for a while at least. Since my wife sometimes pokes her head into the blog she'll probably see this so.......I'll give you a list for X-mas maybe??
LOL
Anyway, I'm still paying this one back in small ways. It's a big one. It'll be tough for me to beat it in the "cool" factor. She wins for sure. My latest in small paybacks is that I'm currently hanging with some dude fishing a racoon out of our chimney. Actually, I'm typing this and waiting for instruction from him but I don't feel guilty. I KNOW he's going to charge me through the nose. I'm also making dinner at the same time. LOL
True story.
Alright, back to the Pugs. I took the camera and filmed one of the early rides while I tried to get a feel for the bike. Took a little adjusting, but, man, is it fun!
Cheers.
Thanks for watching and reading.
Finished the assembly using spare parts buried in my parts bin in the basement.
I'll probably make a couple of changes such as Surly Moustache bars and a different saddle at some point but not for a while at least. Since my wife sometimes pokes her head into the blog she'll probably see this so.......I'll give you a list for X-mas maybe??
LOL
Anyway, I'm still paying this one back in small ways. It's a big one. It'll be tough for me to beat it in the "cool" factor. She wins for sure. My latest in small paybacks is that I'm currently hanging with some dude fishing a racoon out of our chimney. Actually, I'm typing this and waiting for instruction from him but I don't feel guilty. I KNOW he's going to charge me through the nose. I'm also making dinner at the same time. LOL
True story.
Alright, back to the Pugs. I took the camera and filmed one of the early rides while I tried to get a feel for the bike. Took a little adjusting, but, man, is it fun!
Cheers.
Thanks for watching and reading.
Monday, 14 November 2011
Her Diary His Diary.......
This was sent to me by a friend the other day......it was so worth sharing.
Hell, it's happened!! LOL
Hell, it's happened!! LOL
Friday, 11 November 2011
I'm A Man Of My Word
This is a story that has been typed for a while. I just hadn't gotten around to adding it to the blog until now. It's a long one folks. Sorry :-)
I'm A Man Of My Word.
I wasn’t looking forward to my weekend of riding at all. I know it doesn’t sound like the best way to start a post but it’s the truth. After I spent a bit of time with the idea, I loathed the thought of it. It’s not that I didn’t want to ride or that I’d lost any drive to do so, it’s just that I truly dreaded the thought of suffering the weekend through.
There was a time, when I had time, I approached racing in a different way: more vim! As a 38 year old father of two, naturally, and I know this is so cliche, things take the back seat to my kids. They are everything to me and cycling, whichever genre, comes after. I still ride as often as possible and whenever possible: don’t get me wrong, but, it’s certainly not with the same vigor of days gone by.
No, my “racing” days have all but ended and I enter only 1 race religiously any more. It’s an early season point to point where my objective is only to try and beat my previous best time: and have a blast in the process of course. The race hasn’t failed me yet in the “fun” department so I return each year to kick start my season and shoot for my best-time-target. Any other racing I do throughout the year is just treated as a day out really. My weekend mashups are still ridden just as aggressively as they’ve ever been, it’s just that I’m slower now. I know that. There’s nothing I can do about it.
When I was approached by friend, and bike shop owner, James, to see if I’d care to join him on his 24hr team, I instinctively said “Yes”. Of course I needed to get a green light from the Mrs (she rarely says no to anything like this really anyway) but I was as good as in without even a thought of what it actually meant. I’d committed!
I’d done these many times in the past but it had been several years since my last entry into an all-nighter. I knew what was involved. I had experience. James’ entire team had folded and it was now up to the two of us to come up with a replacement team as quickly as possible. All I could think about was how horrible my condition was and if he put a team of mashers together I was going to be the anchor. I did NOT want to be the anchor. He insisted that this wasn’t going to be that kind of team. This was going to be a weekend for the boys to hang, and ride. “We’re not gunnin’ for shit except fun......”
And with that, I committed with a hand shake. And I’m a man of my word.
We started making calls to everyone we knew and seeing as it was so last minute, our long list got short very quickly. All potential candidates had plans. Everything from weddings, to family BBQ’s to camping trips to surgeries. You name it. We were in rough shape and the date was fast approaching.
A few days later James informing me that he had decided to start going through his customer list calling folks he “thought” would work out alright based mainly on short conversations and what he saw in the shop. I thought it was a little unorthodox but then, really, had we gone to the web, what would have been the difference? Faulk it.
“What ch’a got?” I asked.
He mentioned a guy named Kris who rides road (used to ride MTB until his ride was ripped off) is fully committed and insanely hyped about the whole thing. James knew little of Kris other than some other smaller details but he seemed like a good guy and he DEFINITELY loves to ride. “Cool”, I thought. Kris was going to borrow the shop’s demo Scott (a loaded carbon fiber Genius). A lot of bike for what we were going to do and the trails we were going to hit but, he needed a ride so..... It was far more than capable.
James also received commitment from another customer named Glen. He had known Glen from years of service at the shop and said that he’d been racking up the miles this year so he may be feeling a little competitive out there. The word “anchor” popped into my head again. I repeated my question from days earlier just to be sure, “We’re keeping this cool right? We’re not shooting for any big hits right?” Once again, he assured me we were not.
We cut the team there at 4 members to relieve any stress we were feeling about getting this together in time. It was a regular hodge-podge of dudes who had never ridden together before and, apart from James, had never even met before. We knew nothing of each other. It was going to be interesting indeed.
The plan was for me and James to meet up early on Friday morning and make the 3-plus-hour drive up to where the event was going to be held. We would then set up camp, pre-ride the course and chill for the night. I couldn’t wait for that part. I dreaded the suffering I was going to have to endure but I waited anxiously for a weekend away.
I had just purchased a brand new Forester that I intended on taking up when, on Thursday night, James texted me saying that Kris was asking if he could join us as well on Friday. Glen was headed up early Saturday. Kris didn’t like the idea of driving all that way, stepping out of Glen’s car and pushing pedals soon after. I can’t say that I blamed him either. My problem was that I was a Forester Virgin (a name I dubbed myself as I’d never packed it before) so I was hesitant in saying yes for fear of not having room. In the end however, I agreed. I was still very unsure, but I agreed.
It wasn’t because I didn’t know Kris, it was because I had no real idea how much room my vehicle had since it was only a couple of weeks old and I’d never had the opportunity to experiment with it in that respect. Could I fit 3 guys, their bikes, bike gear and camping gear all into my new truck? Faulk! Would someone’s tire leave a stain in my headliner?? The stress I was feeling for lack of condition and letting the team down was only compounded by the thought of a stained headliner! Jesus! I hate new vehicles........
I ran downstairs and started to lighten up on some of the gear I had planned on bringing. This was so last minute. It usually isn’t a good thing when you’ve already packed and gotten ready for the next day. Nevertheless, I had to trim some fat.
The next morning I arrived at James’ place and for the sake of simplicity, Kris had made his way there as well. James makes the introductions and right away, Kris seems as though he’s going to fit in nicely. Perhaps not physically into my truck, but, he seems to be a decent guy for sure.
I look at the piles of stuff we all have and voice my concerns. They, laugh. They’d already been talking about it while I was making my way over. We start to re-consider again what we REALLY need. As Kris and James sort through their stuff and amalgamate some of the food into two coolers, I throw the bikes on the roof of the car. At some point, someone is accused of “.....packing like Snooki......” and this opens the floodgates. The digs are fast and furious in all directions. No one is safe. We’re 5 minutes into the weekend and we’re already laughing about shit. Clearly, we all need this little “holiday” and we’re jelling well already. Not bad for 3 dudes who know pretty much squat about each other.
In the end, there was loads of room. Kris’s spot in the back wasn’t even impeded in the least by any overflow of gear. It was stellar! I'm impressed by the volume in the back of my new Forester.
The i-pod was set to random playing a whole mix of new stuff I had picked up (I’m a big music geek) but we didn’t need it. There was little silence on the drive up as we had loads to discuss trying to get to know each other. Quality conversation and laughs o-plenty to be sure. We arrive a little later than planned but still plenty early to get everything done that we were hoping for.
We decide to quickly set up camp and then head out to pre-ride the course. It doesn’t take long before we find ourselves with lungs full of sweet pine smelling air, twisting and weaving our way through the marked course, climbing aggressively, testing our form.
We complete the course at a nice steady pace and I sort of dissect it section by section. I choose how I will change my lines the next time through. I make mental note of obstacles and/or hazards to watch for along the way. I can’t help myself. I know I’m not here to really race but, after doing it so long, it’s just natural.
At the end of the loop I’m feeling good. We didn’t kill it but we didn’t sit up either. Our heart rates are up but we know we’ll be going around a lot in the next while so we’re all happy. We agree that the course is well thought out and a good length for this style of event. A nice amount of separated singletrack followed each time with some double track to allow for passing in case you are trapped at some point. The course isn’t overly technical but some sections are nicely twisted and tight to make up for some of that. The course hosts a couple of climbs which I thought would eventually hurt after several passes but, I was excited. The conditions were excellent. The trails were dry, dusty and very quick indeed. The making of a good outing.
We head down to pick up our race kit before we are to drive into town to pasta-up.
After receiving our kit and zip-tying the plates on, the team was seriously bummed that we were one number away from that “coveted” number. ;-)
We headed out to a place called Baffos and had a wicked meal. I was so taken by the Lobster, Crab and Shrimp whatever it was (LOL) I ordered a second plate when I was done. No joke. It was awesome. I have never done that in a restaurant before. YUM! YUM!
We headed back to camp for some campfire hang-time and some drinks. Kris and James rocked the beers and I was working my way through a mickey of Forty Creek and ginger (God I love that stuff). We weren’t going hard on the booze though. We were being respectable. None of us wanted to get all rowdy and feel like turds in the morning. It was a good chill night talking about stuff around a fire. It was what these weekends are all about.
We gave Kris, hands down, the award for story of the night though: the details of which, we will keep to ourselves. Suffice it to say, it was freaking hilarious.
None of this fire talk would have been possible without the finest of wood of course. “Aged” to perfection. LOL
WTF?? We got a kick out of that label.
Anyway, we shut down around 2am or so.
The following morning we rise to another lovely day. I fire up my stove, make some coffee and pound back some oatmeal and bananas for a start. James and Kris soon follow suit. Groggy, rubbing sleep out of their eyes and stretching out the stiff sleeping-bag knots. They start to prepare for the day as well.
About an hour later, our fourth member arrives. Glen pulls up in his beat up old Acura and pulls out a backpack and his bike. I quickly ask “You need a hand setting up?” He looks puzzled so I ask, “You got a tent?”
He says “No, I figure I’ll just crash with one of you guys. There will always be one guy out anyway.”
I don’t have an issue with that really but I did think it was odd that someone would go camping without ANY gear and assume that the rest (people he doesn’t know) would take care of it. I just laughed. We all kinda did....
We talked with Glen a while but informed him that the team had voted him in as the lap-one-man. He was cool with that and started to prepare. I did as well since I was to be taking lap 2 and we all figured we would be doing these laps in under an hour.
The start goes smoothly and almost immediately after Glen heads out I start to get that old feeling of butterflies in my stomach. Not sure why, there was no need! I guess, like the dissecting of pre-ridden courses, it too is something that doesn’t change. After a history of competing at different events in different sports, whether it was mtb’ing or whatever, I always got this way. This event wasn’t even going to be a race for us, however, I still felt nervous.
I decide the best course of action is to jump on my bike and ride around the campground to calm the nerves and get comfortable. It proves to be a good idea as my quivering legs and twitchy feeling arms soon recovered and I was ready.
Glen arrives well under an hour and we make our exchange. Within seconds of leaving the start area my heart rate sky-rockets and I know it’s nerves again and not due to effort. I sit up momentarily to allow my heart-rate to drop again and try to calm myself down. I figure, despite being told repeatedly that this was all for fun, I was still subconsciously nervous about letting the team down. It was a real challenge for me to convince myself otherwise.
Eventually though, I finally succeed. After I settled again, I lifted my carcass out of the saddle and buckled down. I pass three riders on the climb and get into the first of the singletrack alone and with no one in front of me. This is surprising at this stage of the race as congestion can always be a problem with short, looped courses.
My speed is up and I maintain throughout my ride. I press the biggest gear I can the entire time ensuring that my pedals are always loaded. My first lap goes without any issues. I am held up on occasion but it is all respectful. People were gracious in moving when they could but I always called up to tell them not to rush. “Whenever you can.....no worries.”
While I’m on the subject, this is the first time in all my years of racing that there were ZERO issues with cloggers (people who refuse to move) or hot heads (those who come up behind screaming and bawling to get out of the way). ZERO! The entire weekend was filled with folks who moved over when they could, and folks who waited patiently until i, or someone else, was able to safely move over. It was fantastic really. Perhaps testament to the design of the course.
Anyway, I too come in well under an hour and hand off to James. He’s laughing as he decided to do the race on his fully rigid SS 29er and, as the most senior man of the team, it was sort of an experiment for him. He was looking forward to it. By the time we get to Kris's wait (he’s never attended one of these before) he’s vibrating with excitement. It’s comical. He absolutely cannot wait to get out there and ride with aggression. He wants to CRUSH pedals.
James rolls in with a respectable time as well and Kris is off like a flash. Our laps continue on this way and we make our rounds through the team roster in relatively short time. Lap after lap go by and decent times are being posted by all. The trail, the company, the weather, everything, is a real treat.
Hours Later:
Part way through my 5th time around I’m starting to feel the miles I’d ridden earlier in the day catch up to me. Particularly in my back. I’ve never had issues with this in the past so it was all new to me. I pressed on, refusing to step off the bike, even on the toughest of the loop’s climbs. Not once had I dabbed anywhere in any of my laps previous and there was no way that I was about to start now. Furthermore, I even refuse to switch gears, forcing myself to press on in a big gear to keep up momentum. At one point, I am out of the saddle on a climb and my bars are down along my waist. I’m desperately trying to stretch my back and legs out as I crank over; grunting with each rotation. Sweat steadily streams from my forehead and drips from several location down onto my numberplate. I can hear the drips making contact and catch a few when I look down with my helmet light. I curse my poor condition, the weight of my 163lbs carcass and my back but continue on.
I finish my lap somewhere in the night and still under the 1hr mark. At least I still had that going for me. By now, my head light had pretty much burned out and I was onto strictly bar lights. In retrospect, my battery and light reflected how I felt inside at this point; burned out. Here’s a pic just moments from crossing the finish line again right at that moment. Aching, soaked in sweat, drained, and lights half burned. Get this lap over with.
I get to the transition zone and no one from my team is present. I called for James but I couldn’t see him. Soon after, Kris showed up and asked if I’d wait up for him to finish. He wanted to sit up for a beer. I agreed and headed back to the site. There I find James relaxing in a chair with his feet up and a beer in his hand. He’s in a daze watching the fire.
“Hey, bro.” he says quietly as I dismount and lean my bike against the picnic table. “Good time again it looks like, man.”
I tell him that I was again happy enough with my performance and I discuss some aspects of my most recent loop. I make no mention of my back. Staring into the fire, he proceeds to tell me, “I’m done man”. He swigs his beer right after spilling those beans. I thought, perhaps, he might have been expecting me to get upset by the statement or try and convince him otherwise but I did no such thing.
As I mix myself my first Forty Creek of the night I say, “Right on. That’s cool. It’s been great so far bro. Really faulking cool man. Thanks for asking me to join......seriously.”
By then I’d mixed my drink and I was making my way to my place at the fire still in my soaked gear. I reach over, just before sitting and we cheers to a good weekend without saying a word. The only sound was of the fire crackling before us. We’re in a trance for a while.
We talked a while about personal stuff and other random topics before James mentions that Glen needs to be woken up. We give the shout out and out he comes from James’ tent. I now realize why James was still up. He was burnt yet stayed up because Glen was sleeping in his tent and possibly even in his bag. LOL He’s slightly puzzled at how early he is to rise but then quickly learns that James forfeited his lap.
“So who’s going to meet me then??”
Unlike my physical self, my mind races. My back is wrecked, I feel like shit and I’m simply not in the mood. I blurt out “Don’t expect me there. I don’t have lights.” I instantly hate myself for saying that as it was a total cop out. It’s only “half true”. My bar lights definitely still had sufficient juice in them for another round but I was done. There are no excuses: none. The bike was fine. The bar light would have been fine. I had dry gear. No, the weak link in this little chain was me but I was too tired to care. I admit it. Right here and now, I admit it.
James then informs him that Kris had mentioned that he was coming back for a beer after his lap and then he was done as well. Glen, I think a little disgusted says that if no one is there then he would just continue on. I didn’t care. I was beyond that. Had I done this earlier in the day, I’d have never forgiven myself but, times had changed.
As soon as Glen pedals off, James heads to bed (now about 3:30a.m.) Kris roles in shortly after and more than a little disgusted after his last lap. A few crashes had his morale down and he mentioned how sloppy he was getting out on the course. A sure sign of how tired one really is IHO. As promised, I waited up, still nursing that Forty Creek which is now mostly cold water from all the ice that had melted away. It still had some sweetness from the ginger but the cold felt awesome in my throat.
By 5:15 I call it a night and I crawl into my tent. I remember curling up into my sleeping bag but I’m out almost instantly as I don’t remember anything else until I was awoken by some rustling just outside. I opened my eyes to find my tent being illuminated by someone on the site. I light my watch and it’s about 6:30 or so. I figured it was Glen, and, seeing as he’d gone out at around 3:30 he must have done a few laps back to back.
For a second I believe I can get up. I decide at that moment to get out and go again but, as soon as I try to sit up, my back reminds me why I decided to stop. Gutted, I lay back down, eyes wide open staring blankly at nothing but a slight glow of the tent above me. My Thermarest is feeling extremely thin right now. Once again I curse my condition.
I stretch a little, role slowly onto my side and go back to sleep.
Around 9:30am I wriggle out craving coffee. James hears me start my routine and comes out of his tent shortly after. I eat some breakfast and we’re planing on packing some stuff up early. Glen wakes up and, as I had suspected, he’d done a couple of extra laps while we all slept. I felt pretty bad but what was I to do? It was too late now. The time had passed.
I head into my tent to grab my keys and as I reach in without looking I feel a vibration in my hand. Startled, I drop the keys and look in. I’m shocked to see a huge mosquito sitting there unfazed by my actions. It was a big bastard. Big enough I felt I should get a shot (the car keys for scale). I wanted to reach for that panic button but, I think it was taunting me; daring me to reach for it.
The legendary great Canadian mosquito (this was a little bit bigger than normal though). I squashed it.
I back the truck up a little to get some tunes going and notice that the front of the Forester is directly in front of Kris’s tent. I lay on the horn for a good 2 full seconds (it’s pretty freaking loud) which gets the rest of us laughing pretty hard. After hearing nothing, and seeing no movement coming from the tent I was a little concerned he was pissed at me. I was worried I’d crossed the line..........not everyone is a morning person. You know?
I sit eating breakfast when James asks, “Where’s the Scott?” A perfectly good question coming from him as the bike does belong to him. Puzzled we scan the site a second.
Then Glen asks, “Where's the timing card? I left it on the table. It was right here!”
Then it dawns on me.
“Kris’s helmet is gone too boys. He’s out on a lap.” I had then just realized that he had furtively gone out at some point before we had woken up. I sit down chugging back a bunch of milk thinking to myself, “No f...king way am I going out like this.”
“Son of a bitch” I thought....
I get up right then and drop my plans of packing. I B-line for the tent and get into the last of my riding gear. I was done with the sausage-suit-racer-boy attire of my previous laps and covered myself in a pair of baggies and a loose fitting sport-T. Pain or no pain, I was headed out again. I was going to mash those pedals as hard as I possibly could. No way am I taking it easy.
Just as I finish up, Kris roles into the site. He’s got a big smile on his face. “Had to do it. Last night’s lap sucked and I had to make it right.” He’s laughing. “Got up and went.” he says.
He sees me putting on my helmet.
“Going again??” He laughs.
“Yeah....... Give me the God damn chip.” I say, totally disgusted.
They all laugh. We chat a minute or two longer and I head out.
I role up and right through the transition zone. I look at my watch and it’s 10:30am. I’m headed for my 6th time around this freaking place for the weekend. I pound through the course feeling surprisingly fresh. My back is a little sore but it’s actually not that painful. The deeper I get into the lap, the less and less it aches.
A pic of me taken somewhere on this final lap and lovin' life again. YEE HAW!!!
I seem to be on my game this morning and flow through the singletrack with the clean lines of a fresh minded rider out for a Sunday ride. My legs are certainly stinging after such a long period of arduous work but I press on. I’m gasping deeply on the climbs but once again, clean them all. I recover smartly, I think, whenever I can as I am at the cusp of exploding on a few occasions. But, I persevere. All I can hear is my King hub whir as always as I rapidly coast through twisty sections of singletrack and the sound of my chain slapping against steel in the rougher stuff. The air is fresh, the trails are fun and I’m through once again finishing the lap at 11:22am. The official clock doesn’t reflect the lap time as we made our exchange at the site but I was stoked to have finished well under an hour once again.
I look around and no one from my team is waiting. My mind races again. The last laps are good to go until noon. Anyone finishing before 1pm is counted. That gave me a full hour and 30(+) minutes to do another lap. I knew I could easily make that time even if I walked parts. I walked back and forth debating with myself. I really felt great! I wanted to go! What about the other guys? What if they’re just late?
I decide to head back to the site to see if anyone wanted the last lap but, just as I leave the transition zone and begin to pass the BBQ/beer area I hear the collective yelling of my name by my three teammates.
They’re all showered, fresh, revitalized, and eating burgers and I’m sweating heavily, sticky feeling, dust covered and starving. I see them biting into their burgers and I explain the situation. None are interested.
Again I’m back to debating but now my stomach joins in the debate. Should I go? Should I stay? I head back to the transition zone and look out at the start area for at least a full minute and, in that time, I make my final decision. I lay my bike down in the grass, call over the fence to one of the officials and turn in our chip. It’s over.
The moment that chip left my fingers I regretted my decision. I should have done that lap. I should have done that lap. I REALLY should have done that lap. I thought about that for days afterward and it was my only regret all weekend. I vow, that if I’m ever in that position again, I will always do that last lap. No matter how painful it may be or how hungry I am. NEVER again will I turn that chip in if faced with the same dilemma. I’ll say it again, I’m a man of my word.
I head back to the BBQ area and down a burger with the guys. It’s nice to be off the bike just hanging out together. We chat about the highlights of the weekend and how much it sucked that it was already over. It had been far too long since I’d done one of these events.
I said this years ago and it certainly applied again this year.
“We may not have been out there to try (not that we could have) and win this thing or even place anywhere special. Your place on the board is just a number. Who really cares? However, if the objective of this event was to capture the joy of hanging with your buds (even if they’re new), ripping some singletrack and having a straight-up GREAT freaking time then, I declare, no contest!! WE WON!!”
Thanks to James for the invite and getting this all started. I’ll see you soon on our next night ride.
Thanks to Kris for making me laugh so freaking hard all weekend and just being a fun-as-hell guy to be around. We’ll catch up soon dude.
Thanks to Glen for joining up and taking up some the slack when we were all sleeping.
You da man! We suck for crashing on you.
Stuff that was great about the weekend for me:
- no hotheads
- no crashes
- new friends
- no dabs
- temperatures = perfect
- the taste of dust
- my times were strong and right in there with me mates
- everything fit in the new rig and NO stained headliner!!
In the end, I’d realized that I’d ridden 117kms (around 73miles) of trail, for the duration of the weekend. I have no idea how much climbing exactly but it was enough. My bike, which I was still getting used to, was a flawless work of art and gave me 0 issues the entire way. I was tired. I was hungry. I missed my kids and I hurt everywhere. I freaking loved it. I will chalk this one up as one of the best riding weekends in a very, very long time and I wish it could have been longer. I will return.
I’m a man of my word.
I'm A Man Of My Word.
I wasn’t looking forward to my weekend of riding at all. I know it doesn’t sound like the best way to start a post but it’s the truth. After I spent a bit of time with the idea, I loathed the thought of it. It’s not that I didn’t want to ride or that I’d lost any drive to do so, it’s just that I truly dreaded the thought of suffering the weekend through.
There was a time, when I had time, I approached racing in a different way: more vim! As a 38 year old father of two, naturally, and I know this is so cliche, things take the back seat to my kids. They are everything to me and cycling, whichever genre, comes after. I still ride as often as possible and whenever possible: don’t get me wrong, but, it’s certainly not with the same vigor of days gone by.
No, my “racing” days have all but ended and I enter only 1 race religiously any more. It’s an early season point to point where my objective is only to try and beat my previous best time: and have a blast in the process of course. The race hasn’t failed me yet in the “fun” department so I return each year to kick start my season and shoot for my best-time-target. Any other racing I do throughout the year is just treated as a day out really. My weekend mashups are still ridden just as aggressively as they’ve ever been, it’s just that I’m slower now. I know that. There’s nothing I can do about it.
When I was approached by friend, and bike shop owner, James, to see if I’d care to join him on his 24hr team, I instinctively said “Yes”. Of course I needed to get a green light from the Mrs (she rarely says no to anything like this really anyway) but I was as good as in without even a thought of what it actually meant. I’d committed!
I’d done these many times in the past but it had been several years since my last entry into an all-nighter. I knew what was involved. I had experience. James’ entire team had folded and it was now up to the two of us to come up with a replacement team as quickly as possible. All I could think about was how horrible my condition was and if he put a team of mashers together I was going to be the anchor. I did NOT want to be the anchor. He insisted that this wasn’t going to be that kind of team. This was going to be a weekend for the boys to hang, and ride. “We’re not gunnin’ for shit except fun......”
And with that, I committed with a hand shake. And I’m a man of my word.
We started making calls to everyone we knew and seeing as it was so last minute, our long list got short very quickly. All potential candidates had plans. Everything from weddings, to family BBQ’s to camping trips to surgeries. You name it. We were in rough shape and the date was fast approaching.
A few days later James informing me that he had decided to start going through his customer list calling folks he “thought” would work out alright based mainly on short conversations and what he saw in the shop. I thought it was a little unorthodox but then, really, had we gone to the web, what would have been the difference? Faulk it.
“What ch’a got?” I asked.
He mentioned a guy named Kris who rides road (used to ride MTB until his ride was ripped off) is fully committed and insanely hyped about the whole thing. James knew little of Kris other than some other smaller details but he seemed like a good guy and he DEFINITELY loves to ride. “Cool”, I thought. Kris was going to borrow the shop’s demo Scott (a loaded carbon fiber Genius). A lot of bike for what we were going to do and the trails we were going to hit but, he needed a ride so..... It was far more than capable.
James also received commitment from another customer named Glen. He had known Glen from years of service at the shop and said that he’d been racking up the miles this year so he may be feeling a little competitive out there. The word “anchor” popped into my head again. I repeated my question from days earlier just to be sure, “We’re keeping this cool right? We’re not shooting for any big hits right?” Once again, he assured me we were not.
We cut the team there at 4 members to relieve any stress we were feeling about getting this together in time. It was a regular hodge-podge of dudes who had never ridden together before and, apart from James, had never even met before. We knew nothing of each other. It was going to be interesting indeed.
The plan was for me and James to meet up early on Friday morning and make the 3-plus-hour drive up to where the event was going to be held. We would then set up camp, pre-ride the course and chill for the night. I couldn’t wait for that part. I dreaded the suffering I was going to have to endure but I waited anxiously for a weekend away.
I had just purchased a brand new Forester that I intended on taking up when, on Thursday night, James texted me saying that Kris was asking if he could join us as well on Friday. Glen was headed up early Saturday. Kris didn’t like the idea of driving all that way, stepping out of Glen’s car and pushing pedals soon after. I can’t say that I blamed him either. My problem was that I was a Forester Virgin (a name I dubbed myself as I’d never packed it before) so I was hesitant in saying yes for fear of not having room. In the end however, I agreed. I was still very unsure, but I agreed.
It wasn’t because I didn’t know Kris, it was because I had no real idea how much room my vehicle had since it was only a couple of weeks old and I’d never had the opportunity to experiment with it in that respect. Could I fit 3 guys, their bikes, bike gear and camping gear all into my new truck? Faulk! Would someone’s tire leave a stain in my headliner?? The stress I was feeling for lack of condition and letting the team down was only compounded by the thought of a stained headliner! Jesus! I hate new vehicles........
I ran downstairs and started to lighten up on some of the gear I had planned on bringing. This was so last minute. It usually isn’t a good thing when you’ve already packed and gotten ready for the next day. Nevertheless, I had to trim some fat.
The next morning I arrived at James’ place and for the sake of simplicity, Kris had made his way there as well. James makes the introductions and right away, Kris seems as though he’s going to fit in nicely. Perhaps not physically into my truck, but, he seems to be a decent guy for sure.
I look at the piles of stuff we all have and voice my concerns. They, laugh. They’d already been talking about it while I was making my way over. We start to re-consider again what we REALLY need. As Kris and James sort through their stuff and amalgamate some of the food into two coolers, I throw the bikes on the roof of the car. At some point, someone is accused of “.....packing like Snooki......” and this opens the floodgates. The digs are fast and furious in all directions. No one is safe. We’re 5 minutes into the weekend and we’re already laughing about shit. Clearly, we all need this little “holiday” and we’re jelling well already. Not bad for 3 dudes who know pretty much squat about each other.
In the end, there was loads of room. Kris’s spot in the back wasn’t even impeded in the least by any overflow of gear. It was stellar! I'm impressed by the volume in the back of my new Forester.
The i-pod was set to random playing a whole mix of new stuff I had picked up (I’m a big music geek) but we didn’t need it. There was little silence on the drive up as we had loads to discuss trying to get to know each other. Quality conversation and laughs o-plenty to be sure. We arrive a little later than planned but still plenty early to get everything done that we were hoping for.
We decide to quickly set up camp and then head out to pre-ride the course. It doesn’t take long before we find ourselves with lungs full of sweet pine smelling air, twisting and weaving our way through the marked course, climbing aggressively, testing our form.
We complete the course at a nice steady pace and I sort of dissect it section by section. I choose how I will change my lines the next time through. I make mental note of obstacles and/or hazards to watch for along the way. I can’t help myself. I know I’m not here to really race but, after doing it so long, it’s just natural.
At the end of the loop I’m feeling good. We didn’t kill it but we didn’t sit up either. Our heart rates are up but we know we’ll be going around a lot in the next while so we’re all happy. We agree that the course is well thought out and a good length for this style of event. A nice amount of separated singletrack followed each time with some double track to allow for passing in case you are trapped at some point. The course isn’t overly technical but some sections are nicely twisted and tight to make up for some of that. The course hosts a couple of climbs which I thought would eventually hurt after several passes but, I was excited. The conditions were excellent. The trails were dry, dusty and very quick indeed. The making of a good outing.
We head down to pick up our race kit before we are to drive into town to pasta-up.
After receiving our kit and zip-tying the plates on, the team was seriously bummed that we were one number away from that “coveted” number. ;-)
We headed out to a place called Baffos and had a wicked meal. I was so taken by the Lobster, Crab and Shrimp whatever it was (LOL) I ordered a second plate when I was done. No joke. It was awesome. I have never done that in a restaurant before. YUM! YUM!
We headed back to camp for some campfire hang-time and some drinks. Kris and James rocked the beers and I was working my way through a mickey of Forty Creek and ginger (God I love that stuff). We weren’t going hard on the booze though. We were being respectable. None of us wanted to get all rowdy and feel like turds in the morning. It was a good chill night talking about stuff around a fire. It was what these weekends are all about.
We gave Kris, hands down, the award for story of the night though: the details of which, we will keep to ourselves. Suffice it to say, it was freaking hilarious.
None of this fire talk would have been possible without the finest of wood of course. “Aged” to perfection. LOL
WTF?? We got a kick out of that label.
Anyway, we shut down around 2am or so.
The following morning we rise to another lovely day. I fire up my stove, make some coffee and pound back some oatmeal and bananas for a start. James and Kris soon follow suit. Groggy, rubbing sleep out of their eyes and stretching out the stiff sleeping-bag knots. They start to prepare for the day as well.
About an hour later, our fourth member arrives. Glen pulls up in his beat up old Acura and pulls out a backpack and his bike. I quickly ask “You need a hand setting up?” He looks puzzled so I ask, “You got a tent?”
He says “No, I figure I’ll just crash with one of you guys. There will always be one guy out anyway.”
I don’t have an issue with that really but I did think it was odd that someone would go camping without ANY gear and assume that the rest (people he doesn’t know) would take care of it. I just laughed. We all kinda did....
We talked with Glen a while but informed him that the team had voted him in as the lap-one-man. He was cool with that and started to prepare. I did as well since I was to be taking lap 2 and we all figured we would be doing these laps in under an hour.
The start goes smoothly and almost immediately after Glen heads out I start to get that old feeling of butterflies in my stomach. Not sure why, there was no need! I guess, like the dissecting of pre-ridden courses, it too is something that doesn’t change. After a history of competing at different events in different sports, whether it was mtb’ing or whatever, I always got this way. This event wasn’t even going to be a race for us, however, I still felt nervous.
I decide the best course of action is to jump on my bike and ride around the campground to calm the nerves and get comfortable. It proves to be a good idea as my quivering legs and twitchy feeling arms soon recovered and I was ready.
Glen arrives well under an hour and we make our exchange. Within seconds of leaving the start area my heart rate sky-rockets and I know it’s nerves again and not due to effort. I sit up momentarily to allow my heart-rate to drop again and try to calm myself down. I figure, despite being told repeatedly that this was all for fun, I was still subconsciously nervous about letting the team down. It was a real challenge for me to convince myself otherwise.
Eventually though, I finally succeed. After I settled again, I lifted my carcass out of the saddle and buckled down. I pass three riders on the climb and get into the first of the singletrack alone and with no one in front of me. This is surprising at this stage of the race as congestion can always be a problem with short, looped courses.
My speed is up and I maintain throughout my ride. I press the biggest gear I can the entire time ensuring that my pedals are always loaded. My first lap goes without any issues. I am held up on occasion but it is all respectful. People were gracious in moving when they could but I always called up to tell them not to rush. “Whenever you can.....no worries.”
While I’m on the subject, this is the first time in all my years of racing that there were ZERO issues with cloggers (people who refuse to move) or hot heads (those who come up behind screaming and bawling to get out of the way). ZERO! The entire weekend was filled with folks who moved over when they could, and folks who waited patiently until i, or someone else, was able to safely move over. It was fantastic really. Perhaps testament to the design of the course.
Anyway, I too come in well under an hour and hand off to James. He’s laughing as he decided to do the race on his fully rigid SS 29er and, as the most senior man of the team, it was sort of an experiment for him. He was looking forward to it. By the time we get to Kris's wait (he’s never attended one of these before) he’s vibrating with excitement. It’s comical. He absolutely cannot wait to get out there and ride with aggression. He wants to CRUSH pedals.
James rolls in with a respectable time as well and Kris is off like a flash. Our laps continue on this way and we make our rounds through the team roster in relatively short time. Lap after lap go by and decent times are being posted by all. The trail, the company, the weather, everything, is a real treat.
Hours Later:
Part way through my 5th time around I’m starting to feel the miles I’d ridden earlier in the day catch up to me. Particularly in my back. I’ve never had issues with this in the past so it was all new to me. I pressed on, refusing to step off the bike, even on the toughest of the loop’s climbs. Not once had I dabbed anywhere in any of my laps previous and there was no way that I was about to start now. Furthermore, I even refuse to switch gears, forcing myself to press on in a big gear to keep up momentum. At one point, I am out of the saddle on a climb and my bars are down along my waist. I’m desperately trying to stretch my back and legs out as I crank over; grunting with each rotation. Sweat steadily streams from my forehead and drips from several location down onto my numberplate. I can hear the drips making contact and catch a few when I look down with my helmet light. I curse my poor condition, the weight of my 163lbs carcass and my back but continue on.
I finish my lap somewhere in the night and still under the 1hr mark. At least I still had that going for me. By now, my head light had pretty much burned out and I was onto strictly bar lights. In retrospect, my battery and light reflected how I felt inside at this point; burned out. Here’s a pic just moments from crossing the finish line again right at that moment. Aching, soaked in sweat, drained, and lights half burned. Get this lap over with.
I get to the transition zone and no one from my team is present. I called for James but I couldn’t see him. Soon after, Kris showed up and asked if I’d wait up for him to finish. He wanted to sit up for a beer. I agreed and headed back to the site. There I find James relaxing in a chair with his feet up and a beer in his hand. He’s in a daze watching the fire.
“Hey, bro.” he says quietly as I dismount and lean my bike against the picnic table. “Good time again it looks like, man.”
I tell him that I was again happy enough with my performance and I discuss some aspects of my most recent loop. I make no mention of my back. Staring into the fire, he proceeds to tell me, “I’m done man”. He swigs his beer right after spilling those beans. I thought, perhaps, he might have been expecting me to get upset by the statement or try and convince him otherwise but I did no such thing.
As I mix myself my first Forty Creek of the night I say, “Right on. That’s cool. It’s been great so far bro. Really faulking cool man. Thanks for asking me to join......seriously.”
By then I’d mixed my drink and I was making my way to my place at the fire still in my soaked gear. I reach over, just before sitting and we cheers to a good weekend without saying a word. The only sound was of the fire crackling before us. We’re in a trance for a while.
We talked a while about personal stuff and other random topics before James mentions that Glen needs to be woken up. We give the shout out and out he comes from James’ tent. I now realize why James was still up. He was burnt yet stayed up because Glen was sleeping in his tent and possibly even in his bag. LOL He’s slightly puzzled at how early he is to rise but then quickly learns that James forfeited his lap.
“So who’s going to meet me then??”
Unlike my physical self, my mind races. My back is wrecked, I feel like shit and I’m simply not in the mood. I blurt out “Don’t expect me there. I don’t have lights.” I instantly hate myself for saying that as it was a total cop out. It’s only “half true”. My bar lights definitely still had sufficient juice in them for another round but I was done. There are no excuses: none. The bike was fine. The bar light would have been fine. I had dry gear. No, the weak link in this little chain was me but I was too tired to care. I admit it. Right here and now, I admit it.
James then informs him that Kris had mentioned that he was coming back for a beer after his lap and then he was done as well. Glen, I think a little disgusted says that if no one is there then he would just continue on. I didn’t care. I was beyond that. Had I done this earlier in the day, I’d have never forgiven myself but, times had changed.
As soon as Glen pedals off, James heads to bed (now about 3:30a.m.) Kris roles in shortly after and more than a little disgusted after his last lap. A few crashes had his morale down and he mentioned how sloppy he was getting out on the course. A sure sign of how tired one really is IHO. As promised, I waited up, still nursing that Forty Creek which is now mostly cold water from all the ice that had melted away. It still had some sweetness from the ginger but the cold felt awesome in my throat.
By 5:15 I call it a night and I crawl into my tent. I remember curling up into my sleeping bag but I’m out almost instantly as I don’t remember anything else until I was awoken by some rustling just outside. I opened my eyes to find my tent being illuminated by someone on the site. I light my watch and it’s about 6:30 or so. I figured it was Glen, and, seeing as he’d gone out at around 3:30 he must have done a few laps back to back.
For a second I believe I can get up. I decide at that moment to get out and go again but, as soon as I try to sit up, my back reminds me why I decided to stop. Gutted, I lay back down, eyes wide open staring blankly at nothing but a slight glow of the tent above me. My Thermarest is feeling extremely thin right now. Once again I curse my condition.
I stretch a little, role slowly onto my side and go back to sleep.
Around 9:30am I wriggle out craving coffee. James hears me start my routine and comes out of his tent shortly after. I eat some breakfast and we’re planing on packing some stuff up early. Glen wakes up and, as I had suspected, he’d done a couple of extra laps while we all slept. I felt pretty bad but what was I to do? It was too late now. The time had passed.
I head into my tent to grab my keys and as I reach in without looking I feel a vibration in my hand. Startled, I drop the keys and look in. I’m shocked to see a huge mosquito sitting there unfazed by my actions. It was a big bastard. Big enough I felt I should get a shot (the car keys for scale). I wanted to reach for that panic button but, I think it was taunting me; daring me to reach for it.
The legendary great Canadian mosquito (this was a little bit bigger than normal though). I squashed it.
I back the truck up a little to get some tunes going and notice that the front of the Forester is directly in front of Kris’s tent. I lay on the horn for a good 2 full seconds (it’s pretty freaking loud) which gets the rest of us laughing pretty hard. After hearing nothing, and seeing no movement coming from the tent I was a little concerned he was pissed at me. I was worried I’d crossed the line..........not everyone is a morning person. You know?
I sit eating breakfast when James asks, “Where’s the Scott?” A perfectly good question coming from him as the bike does belong to him. Puzzled we scan the site a second.
Then Glen asks, “Where's the timing card? I left it on the table. It was right here!”
Then it dawns on me.
“Kris’s helmet is gone too boys. He’s out on a lap.” I had then just realized that he had furtively gone out at some point before we had woken up. I sit down chugging back a bunch of milk thinking to myself, “No f...king way am I going out like this.”
“Son of a bitch” I thought....
I get up right then and drop my plans of packing. I B-line for the tent and get into the last of my riding gear. I was done with the sausage-suit-racer-boy attire of my previous laps and covered myself in a pair of baggies and a loose fitting sport-T. Pain or no pain, I was headed out again. I was going to mash those pedals as hard as I possibly could. No way am I taking it easy.
Just as I finish up, Kris roles into the site. He’s got a big smile on his face. “Had to do it. Last night’s lap sucked and I had to make it right.” He’s laughing. “Got up and went.” he says.
He sees me putting on my helmet.
“Going again??” He laughs.
“Yeah....... Give me the God damn chip.” I say, totally disgusted.
They all laugh. We chat a minute or two longer and I head out.
I role up and right through the transition zone. I look at my watch and it’s 10:30am. I’m headed for my 6th time around this freaking place for the weekend. I pound through the course feeling surprisingly fresh. My back is a little sore but it’s actually not that painful. The deeper I get into the lap, the less and less it aches.
A pic of me taken somewhere on this final lap and lovin' life again. YEE HAW!!!
I seem to be on my game this morning and flow through the singletrack with the clean lines of a fresh minded rider out for a Sunday ride. My legs are certainly stinging after such a long period of arduous work but I press on. I’m gasping deeply on the climbs but once again, clean them all. I recover smartly, I think, whenever I can as I am at the cusp of exploding on a few occasions. But, I persevere. All I can hear is my King hub whir as always as I rapidly coast through twisty sections of singletrack and the sound of my chain slapping against steel in the rougher stuff. The air is fresh, the trails are fun and I’m through once again finishing the lap at 11:22am. The official clock doesn’t reflect the lap time as we made our exchange at the site but I was stoked to have finished well under an hour once again.
I look around and no one from my team is waiting. My mind races again. The last laps are good to go until noon. Anyone finishing before 1pm is counted. That gave me a full hour and 30(+) minutes to do another lap. I knew I could easily make that time even if I walked parts. I walked back and forth debating with myself. I really felt great! I wanted to go! What about the other guys? What if they’re just late?
I decide to head back to the site to see if anyone wanted the last lap but, just as I leave the transition zone and begin to pass the BBQ/beer area I hear the collective yelling of my name by my three teammates.
They’re all showered, fresh, revitalized, and eating burgers and I’m sweating heavily, sticky feeling, dust covered and starving. I see them biting into their burgers and I explain the situation. None are interested.
Again I’m back to debating but now my stomach joins in the debate. Should I go? Should I stay? I head back to the transition zone and look out at the start area for at least a full minute and, in that time, I make my final decision. I lay my bike down in the grass, call over the fence to one of the officials and turn in our chip. It’s over.
The moment that chip left my fingers I regretted my decision. I should have done that lap. I should have done that lap. I REALLY should have done that lap. I thought about that for days afterward and it was my only regret all weekend. I vow, that if I’m ever in that position again, I will always do that last lap. No matter how painful it may be or how hungry I am. NEVER again will I turn that chip in if faced with the same dilemma. I’ll say it again, I’m a man of my word.
I head back to the BBQ area and down a burger with the guys. It’s nice to be off the bike just hanging out together. We chat about the highlights of the weekend and how much it sucked that it was already over. It had been far too long since I’d done one of these events.
I said this years ago and it certainly applied again this year.
“We may not have been out there to try (not that we could have) and win this thing or even place anywhere special. Your place on the board is just a number. Who really cares? However, if the objective of this event was to capture the joy of hanging with your buds (even if they’re new), ripping some singletrack and having a straight-up GREAT freaking time then, I declare, no contest!! WE WON!!”
Thanks to James for the invite and getting this all started. I’ll see you soon on our next night ride.
Thanks to Kris for making me laugh so freaking hard all weekend and just being a fun-as-hell guy to be around. We’ll catch up soon dude.
Thanks to Glen for joining up and taking up some the slack when we were all sleeping.
You da man! We suck for crashing on you.
Stuff that was great about the weekend for me:
- no hotheads
- no crashes
- new friends
- no dabs
- temperatures = perfect
- the taste of dust
- my times were strong and right in there with me mates
- everything fit in the new rig and NO stained headliner!!
In the end, I’d realized that I’d ridden 117kms (around 73miles) of trail, for the duration of the weekend. I have no idea how much climbing exactly but it was enough. My bike, which I was still getting used to, was a flawless work of art and gave me 0 issues the entire way. I was tired. I was hungry. I missed my kids and I hurt everywhere. I freaking loved it. I will chalk this one up as one of the best riding weekends in a very, very long time and I wish it could have been longer. I will return.
I’m a man of my word.
Thursday, 10 November 2011
Night ride......
Literally just stepped off the bike. The moon was to be full and the sky was to be clear so a ride was most definitely in order. I was happy to recruit at least one person who felt as strongly about it as I did and we hit the trail in good time. The ride was awesome and the trails were in pristine form.
I snapped this photo at one point of the ride.
I was quite impressed and loving how the moon turned the sky blue when the shutter was slowed to 15seconds. It was pitch black at this point, aside from the full moon blazing.
Stellar ride once again.
Get out and enjoy the rides folks.
I snapped this photo at one point of the ride.
I was quite impressed and loving how the moon turned the sky blue when the shutter was slowed to 15seconds. It was pitch black at this point, aside from the full moon blazing.
Stellar ride once again.
Get out and enjoy the rides folks.
Monday, 31 October 2011
So My Wife Blows My Mind.....
I'd been talking about a Pugsley but not able to act on it. My wife had been putting a stop to my plans from the get go but then today, when she walked into the door after work I get the.....
"Hey Steve! Can you give me a hand? I need your help getting something out of the trunk!!"
I put my shoes on head to the garage, pop the trunk and find...............
Not much more to say except holy HELL am I stoked. Quite the gift. She's one rad lady!
In retrospect, I think she'd been planning this a while.
I don't care what the honey-do list is going to be; I'll take it! :-)
"Hey Steve! Can you give me a hand? I need your help getting something out of the trunk!!"
I put my shoes on head to the garage, pop the trunk and find...............
Not much more to say except holy HELL am I stoked. Quite the gift. She's one rad lady!
In retrospect, I think she'd been planning this a while.
I don't care what the honey-do list is going to be; I'll take it! :-)
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
A fat-bike.
I've been wanting a fat-bike for what seems an eternity but have just never made the leap. I must admit, a large part of that is due to what my wife might say. After all, I currently have 7 bikes in my basement, all of which "I need" and serve a very "distinct purpose". However true this may be, I know my wife wouldn't share the same zest for another addition.
I feel my eagerness starting to grow though and I long to cruise around on a fat-bike. I hope that, at least in part, it will satisfy my desire for something "new".
I've had my eye (mind actually) on one for a while now, particularly, a Surly Pugsley, and a friend of mine who owns one is now wanting to part with his. I'm wanting to pounce!
It's tough for me not to jump at it as it's been so long and videos like this one don't help my quandary.
GREAT video, that needs to be viewed in it's own right but the fact that it features the very bike I'm currently mulling over doing the very thing I want to do with it (winter rides) only sweetens it all the more.
Damn cool. I want that bike bad....
I feel my eagerness starting to grow though and I long to cruise around on a fat-bike. I hope that, at least in part, it will satisfy my desire for something "new".
I've had my eye (mind actually) on one for a while now, particularly, a Surly Pugsley, and a friend of mine who owns one is now wanting to part with his. I'm wanting to pounce!
It's tough for me not to jump at it as it's been so long and videos like this one don't help my quandary.
GREAT video, that needs to be viewed in it's own right but the fact that it features the very bike I'm currently mulling over doing the very thing I want to do with it (winter rides) only sweetens it all the more.
Damn cool. I want that bike bad....
Sunday, 23 October 2011
Sweet Rides: Entry #10
Not sure what to say about this one but figured I'd let the pics speak for themselves. I was sent this link a long time ago but only now rediscovered it (after the great laptop disaster). The bike is from the custom builder, By:Stickel
Like I said, I have no words. See for yourself!
and the side view...
After 2 seconds of research it wasn't long before I found another of this builder's incredible frames built up into a spectacular sight. I'd love to spin this one around something fierce!
Haven't seen any of these out on the trails yet but if I did, I might have to chase them down for a closer look! That is, if I can catch them and the owner doesn't mind. :-)
Like I said, I have no words. See for yourself!
and the side view...
After 2 seconds of research it wasn't long before I found another of this builder's incredible frames built up into a spectacular sight. I'd love to spin this one around something fierce!
Haven't seen any of these out on the trails yet but if I did, I might have to chase them down for a closer look! That is, if I can catch them and the owner doesn't mind. :-)
Friday, 21 October 2011
A Good Clip (video by Brighter Planet).
I've always liked this little clip and felt it needed a place here on The Slow Spoke. Get out there and enjoy your bike(s) folks.
Friday, 14 October 2011
A Gravel Grinder...
Well, I had just dropped the kids off at school and decided to procrastinate with the housework again so this left the morning to myself. Seeing as I didn't need to be at work until 3pm I made some plans. I packed my Camelbak with a little gear and food and took off.
I headed out for a long morning ride and ended up getting 141kms in (about 87 miles) When all was said and done. A real gravel grinder on my Surly Crosscheck. I filmed some but killed the camera after a while as it was really eating into my riding time. You kinda get the idea though maybe. Basically, it was a great day in the morning sunshine.
I felt those miles by the time I got home though. It was a long bumpy ride but it was absolutely beautiful outside.
I headed out for a long morning ride and ended up getting 141kms in (about 87 miles) When all was said and done. A real gravel grinder on my Surly Crosscheck. I filmed some but killed the camera after a while as it was really eating into my riding time. You kinda get the idea though maybe. Basically, it was a great day in the morning sunshine.
I felt those miles by the time I got home though. It was a long bumpy ride but it was absolutely beautiful outside.
Monday, 26 September 2011
June?? Wow.............June. Sweet Rides: Entry #9
I surfed into the blog after a long hiatus and only now realized just how long it has been. I can't say that it was laziness entirely that has kept me from coming up with a new entry but a busy life, a crashed laptop (housing all my "Sweet Rides" photos) and *gasp* actually getting out riding and racing my bikes have all been contributing factors as well.
I was, however, pleased to discover upon my return here that there were a couple of comments that I hadn't seen before which tells me that there are a few who occasionally swing by and read! Even if it's only once, perhaps this is your first time here, I'm very flattered and I thank you for that! Certainly makes me want to come back and continue these entries; even if I am the only one who ends up reading some of this stuff.
The other thing that pulled me out of my hibernation was the spotting of this stellar ride.
It's a custom Engin (Engin Cycles) that blew my mind and the parts hanging from it is exactly what I’ve been trying to get through in my messages of “Sweet Rides”.
I absolutely LOVE that the owner, who probably spent a relatively large sum of cash for some stuff, like the frame for instance (one would have to assume as we all know what "custom" costs), but balanced it all out with some "budget" stuff as well. Smart! I don't want that to sound sarcastic either. I want to be clear: I'm a big fan of components that work; regardless of cost. Wether they cost a week's wages or just what is in the average wallet at any given moment, they just have to work. It's a real thing of beauty. Smartly done! I don’t mind spending a small fortune for stuff if it’s going to work (I have and still do) but I’m not too stuck up to feel I have to buy the best shit for my bike “just because”.
A custom Engin frame with some older gold colored Race Face Turbine cranks (at least that’s what they appear to be in the pic I came across) setup in my favorite 1X9 configuration..........YUM! The owner also spec’d it with some mechanical Avid disc brakes which is sure to provide consistent stopping power when he/she needs it.
Believe me, I know, to a bike snob this may seem distasteful or maybe even a crime to the most discerning, but, to me, it makes good sense! It is in my opinion that this bike was assemble by someone "in the know". I too have done similar things to my rides; most recently, to my Niner.
For example; I ditched my billion dollar hydraulic Avids and went with a set of BB7 calipers teamed up with some Paul Love Levers for a good, working, trouble-free brake system. No need to worry about it anymore - at all. I was sick and tired of the problems I was having and frustrated with the time I was wasting repairing them or having to adjust to inconsistent performance as opposed to riding. I won’t even get into the time they failed on a descent and almost killed me. I know that not all hydraulic brakes are poor performers and I know that, on average, they are far more powerful than mechanicals, however, consistency plays a huge role in happiness when it comes to brakes so ditching the “top-of-the-line” brake offerings from Avid for a more consistent performer was a no-brainer for me.
“Most expensive” doesn't always mean “best” but, I digress, this isn't about me, my opinion in brakes, or my choices. This is about this fantastic bike. Whether it was by choice, or the parts selection was based on budget, or, perhaps, a bit of both, the bike is outstanding and definitely deserves a place in the blog in my opinion.
Other details like the gold colored hubs, top cap, King headset, quick releases and housing tie the Engin decals in beautifully. On their own, brown and gold would not be a color I’d consider but seeing this bike together makes me think I’d have been missing out!! God damn! What a beauty!
The Engin seat post (with brown accents) capped with that beauty of a brown saddle is just another nice touch which cemented this ride’s place in the blog. Engin’s beauty of a frame, with its bent top tube and arched seat stays screams “all-dayer” as much as it does eye-appeal.
Beauty!!
I'll try to submit another post in quicker time next time.
Cheers to those who are/have read.
Please submit any bikes you feel should be featured (especially now that my old laptop self destructed) to skabikes at hotmail dot com
I was, however, pleased to discover upon my return here that there were a couple of comments that I hadn't seen before which tells me that there are a few who occasionally swing by and read! Even if it's only once, perhaps this is your first time here, I'm very flattered and I thank you for that! Certainly makes me want to come back and continue these entries; even if I am the only one who ends up reading some of this stuff.
The other thing that pulled me out of my hibernation was the spotting of this stellar ride.
It's a custom Engin (Engin Cycles) that blew my mind and the parts hanging from it is exactly what I’ve been trying to get through in my messages of “Sweet Rides”.
I absolutely LOVE that the owner, who probably spent a relatively large sum of cash for some stuff, like the frame for instance (one would have to assume as we all know what "custom" costs), but balanced it all out with some "budget" stuff as well. Smart! I don't want that to sound sarcastic either. I want to be clear: I'm a big fan of components that work; regardless of cost. Wether they cost a week's wages or just what is in the average wallet at any given moment, they just have to work. It's a real thing of beauty. Smartly done! I don’t mind spending a small fortune for stuff if it’s going to work (I have and still do) but I’m not too stuck up to feel I have to buy the best shit for my bike “just because”.
A custom Engin frame with some older gold colored Race Face Turbine cranks (at least that’s what they appear to be in the pic I came across) setup in my favorite 1X9 configuration..........YUM! The owner also spec’d it with some mechanical Avid disc brakes which is sure to provide consistent stopping power when he/she needs it.
Believe me, I know, to a bike snob this may seem distasteful or maybe even a crime to the most discerning, but, to me, it makes good sense! It is in my opinion that this bike was assemble by someone "in the know". I too have done similar things to my rides; most recently, to my Niner.
For example; I ditched my billion dollar hydraulic Avids and went with a set of BB7 calipers teamed up with some Paul Love Levers for a good, working, trouble-free brake system. No need to worry about it anymore - at all. I was sick and tired of the problems I was having and frustrated with the time I was wasting repairing them or having to adjust to inconsistent performance as opposed to riding. I won’t even get into the time they failed on a descent and almost killed me. I know that not all hydraulic brakes are poor performers and I know that, on average, they are far more powerful than mechanicals, however, consistency plays a huge role in happiness when it comes to brakes so ditching the “top-of-the-line” brake offerings from Avid for a more consistent performer was a no-brainer for me.
“Most expensive” doesn't always mean “best” but, I digress, this isn't about me, my opinion in brakes, or my choices. This is about this fantastic bike. Whether it was by choice, or the parts selection was based on budget, or, perhaps, a bit of both, the bike is outstanding and definitely deserves a place in the blog in my opinion.
Other details like the gold colored hubs, top cap, King headset, quick releases and housing tie the Engin decals in beautifully. On their own, brown and gold would not be a color I’d consider but seeing this bike together makes me think I’d have been missing out!! God damn! What a beauty!
The Engin seat post (with brown accents) capped with that beauty of a brown saddle is just another nice touch which cemented this ride’s place in the blog. Engin’s beauty of a frame, with its bent top tube and arched seat stays screams “all-dayer” as much as it does eye-appeal.
Beauty!!
I'll try to submit another post in quicker time next time.
Cheers to those who are/have read.
Please submit any bikes you feel should be featured (especially now that my old laptop self destructed) to skabikes at hotmail dot com
Monday, 20 June 2011
The Blog's Not Dead; Here's Another Video.
My buddy James and I decided to hit the trails early one Wednesday morning. I drove up, we threw the bikes on the roof of the car and set out to mash up the 29ers for the day. We had a stellar time and had the camera rolling. The only problem we had all day was the insane amount of mosquitoes. We fed a lot of them.
Still.............beats work by a long shot!
I will try to get back to working on the blog soon. I've been insanely busy so..... If anyone has bikes they'd like me to spotlight, please forward them to skabikes at hotmail dot calm. I've got a large library as it is but I'll get to them.
Shit......is anyone even reading this? LOL
Still.............beats work by a long shot!
I will try to get back to working on the blog soon. I've been insanely busy so..... If anyone has bikes they'd like me to spotlight, please forward them to skabikes at hotmail dot calm. I've got a large library as it is but I'll get to them.
Shit......is anyone even reading this? LOL
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