- Bad Idea Racing - HAS LEFT THE BUILDING

Once and awhile I need people to just be human. Yesterday I needed some room for a lane change, and I got the sound of an accelerating engine and a blast on the horn. It should end there, but I am dumb. As he zoomed past I looked over to check for any further information that the driver might have wanted to convey. The big maroon SUV’s window rolled down, and I got the finger and some expletives which were intended to explain his anger. I returned with a volley of filth hoping to convey my feelings about the situation. In the world of winning and losing I know how the situation will end everytime. He wins.

Why did he win? Because I let him get to me. I should have never looked over, and I should have never said a word. Did I think I was going to change how he felt about the situation? About cyclists’ rights? About my safety? About his mother? Looking back now I realize I just helped fill the big happy pool of anger we all swim in.

It’s my fault. I slipped into a funk yesterday, and I didn’t get out in time. When that man decided he wanted to be a part of my day I was ready to let off some steam. I took out my unhappiness on him. Neither of us were really in the right, nobody’s life was in danger, and nobody got hurt. Not a reason to piss on someone’s parade for sure. I wish I could apologize for my behavior. My actions were pointless, and in the end my anger only hurt me. I need to save all that extra energy for next season.

“Calm down buddy, or I’m gonna kick your ass.”

It pissed rain all day on Friday. I don’t mind working in the rain, but rain on Friday means no trail riding on Saturday. The Pie and The Boy were headed to the Humane Society for a good chunk of Saturday to volunteer so I had to find something to do. What could be better than trailwork? Pumptrack work.

Jacob (vinnycactus) of BIKEPASA worked with the Charlotte/Meck Parks and Rec to get approval to build a pumptrack in the North Meck Park. The Tarheel Trailblazers already have an established XC trail in the park, but BIKEPASA has been approaching Parks and Recs with ideas that fit the alternative MTB lifestyle. The pumptrack is hopefully the first step in the right direction to getting a dirtjump area in another park, and possibly a freeride (that still exists, right?) trail system in another. I may have sold my big bike a couple years ago, but I am all about helping expand the variety of MTB options in my local riding area.

Jacob even managed to wrangle this nice SIFTED clay from Parks and Recs for us to work with. I have never built anything with better dirt in my life. It was like trailbuilding with Play Do (and just as much fun).

I had to cut out after six hours of shoveling, but I did manage to do a little “packing in” before I left.

Pay attention folks. My image captured wearing jeans and boots. This does not happen often, although I am hoping for a chain wallet for Christmas.

Why did I have to go so early? The Boy had a short track race, so I had to get home and scoop him up. The Boy has been in a tough spot with the class system in the local races. In the past he was the LITTLE nine year old who had to go up against the BIG fourteeen year olds. Now he is a fourteen yr old six foot tall man-child who is in a class with eight year olds. He has decided to “man up” ever since last year’s winter series and just race the 15-18 yr olds. Yeah, now he is stuck riding against kids that sometimes drive themselves to races, but whatever. Saturday he ended up being the only kid in the 15-18 yr old class, so he won. I did tell him to at least stay on the gas hard enough to finish ahead of the kids in the younger class (which he did) to make sure his victory was valid.

His mom told him to put his “race face” on, and this is what we got.

If you look REAL CLOSE you’ll see The Boy sporting some love for Twin Six.

Yesterday I loaded the Meatplow up on my Sammy and headed over to Fisher Farm.

While I’ve been gallavanting all summer some trail gnomes have been building trail. They put up something like 6 miles of trail over the summer, and what a great job they have done. I got a little lost on my first lap, and ended up riding some sections of the trail a few times (in both directions) till I bumped into the very gnomes that built the trail. I got on their wheels and followed them around. OUCH! These guys ride at race pace, and don’t hold up every few miles. Go, go, go, and go some more. My hands are still hurting from Conyers, and Saturday’s shovel/wheelbarrow work didn’t help. Following these guys had my hands throbbing and my back screaming. It was a better workout than I was hoping for/planning on, but I did get to see new some new trail for a change.

Here’s a random pic I found while sorting out all the photos from this summer. Why do I like this pic? It’s a big part of what the Trans Rockies is about. Setting up camp, taking care of your gear, taking care of yourself, and taking in the views. I’m also wearin my thrift store merino wool sweater I lost at the after party. Goodbye old friend.

Bored? Go watch these Jackasses Tandem riding with no brakes downhill in fuzzy bunny suits.

Here’s some pics of the top three SS Worlds riders from the Lights and Motion guys (FYI: I was running their HID light)  Yeah, I was running the full Race Face Transrockies kit at night.   The chamois are to die for, and it is one of the few jerseys I own with the sleeves still intact.  Normally I eschew any formal full scary kit when riding.   Eccchhhh..

Me

Sully

Cameron

I know you Northerners will tell me to quit my bitching, but its getting cold outside. Three days in a row of unseasonal temps, fooey. Time to start packing on the fat, I guess. I was raised in NE Ohio, but I moved here for a reason.

Yeah, shit’s getting boring around here. Sorry ’bout that. Do you expect me to win a World Championship every week? Sounds good, but I don’t think it’s plausible. This weekend there is some racing locally, but it’s a night short track race, and I’m not too sure I am up for it. The Boy is racing at 5:00pm so I would have to stick around till 8:00pm to do the SS class. Hmmm… I didn’t even want to kill that much time in Conyers to make a trip up to the podium. The Double Dare is also going on this weekend. I soooo want to do this race at some point, but it is a two day comittment, and you’re not excused from class till Sunday evening. That would make for a long weekend, and I am still holding (tightly) onto one more ‘06 kitchen pass. I am reserving it for doing something stupid the first weekend I have my Badger in my filthy hands.

So yep, nothing to see here, and that brings me to this conclusion. Five day a week blogging has to be put on a hiatus. I dig doing it, but without much to write about I might just drone on, and on, and on, and on, and…. get the point? I’ll post back up when the itch needs scratching, or when I got something going on. If I were chasing down sponsors, or doing cyclocross things might be different, but I am not. This really is the OFF SEASON, whether I like it or not.

So it’s not really “goodbye”, just “see you later than usual”.

“What do mean MY hat looks funny? Have you looked in the mirror at that fruit bowl your wearing on your head?”

So there’s a good bit of conversing going on about the state of endurance racing on MTBR and elsewhere. Seems to be some disagreement over how hard races should be as far as distance, and time cut-offs, and whatnot. I’m not entirely sure what the hub-bub is. There seems to be plenty of events out there to fit everyone’s needs. If I am in an event and I am not wishing for a quick death at some point it isn’t hard enough for my tastes. Someday I hope I’ll get around to doing one of the grassroots events where you are hanging your nuts in the wind and navigating your way across the desert, but for right now I’ll leave the navigation type races to someone else. At this point in my life I don’t want to be pulling out a cue sheet or a map every ten minutes (I would regardless of whether I need to or not). I want to look for arrows and go.

I finally got some new pedals for my work bike. The last few weeks I have found myself trying to slow down my fixed gear and “POP” I come out of my left pedal and start looking at other options that don’t include slowing down. I knew that my pedals were just plain worn out as they were Shimano 747’s from back in the day when they first came out. I was kinda hoping they would fix themselves if I ignored them (like all my other problems in life). If you have never ridden a fixie and popped out of a pedal while trying to “slow your roll” I have this analogy. Imagine driving your car down the road and someone pulls out in front of you. The second you go to apply the brakes, you are thrown into the backseat while still holding onto the steering wheel. Oh yeah, the backseat has transformed into a mechanical bull since the last time you checked so now you are hopelessly flopping around, not really slowing down, and trying to pray at the same time. Just like that.

New pedals = happiness.

I had a lot more to say on the subject, but I know who I am. If you know me well, you know the answer already. I typed up a bunch of crap trying to explain myself, but I can spend all day trying to explain a rock and at the end of the day it will still be a rock.

Freak is a fine label. I’ll wear it with pride, though I do play the role of a normal guy on TV.

Have fun, and don’t hurt anybody today.

A weekend without the bike…not so bad.  I did do a little representing.  Friday before The Pie and I headed West to Cherokee, NC I got my a package from the Vikings of Knoxville.  Seems like back when the whole Viking (single speeders) VS Ninjas (gearies) thing came about it sparked some debate on their local forum.  Next thing you know the local Vikings made it official and got shirts.  Stumpy sent me a couple shirts, but one shirt seemed extra special.

Here’s The Pie and I in an obligatory photo op in front of Mingo Falls.

and here’s the back of the shirt that has a warm place in my heart.  Having a shirt that proclaims “I am a single speeder” is OK.  Having a shirt that proclaims me as a freak, well that’s more like it.  That’s also a much bigger topic of discussion I’ll save for later.

We brought some half-ass firewood logs, but the fireplace inside the cabin was a gas unit.  No problem.  I lit them up on the grill on the porch, and we had a fine evening by the fire outside.  The “faux logs” did need a little coaxing to get them into a blazing frenzy.  Nothing a few rented kitchen utensils and a dulled fear of flames couldn’t handle.

This would be the obligatory self portrait couple shot (quite a few MGD’s in).  We had a good time, but I am definitely ready to get back on a bike.  Two days without a ride is kinda hard.  I started to get kinda dopey, but today I will be back on a bike.  Sure I might be delivering packages and stuff, but I’ll still be turning pedals.

I spoke with Rob the Builder last night for about an hour. I get a warm fuzzy feeling when I talk the person who’s going to be building my bike, and he sounds like he “gets me”. We talk about riding, racing, equipment choices, and life in general. I like the way the bike looks (in my head). It sounds like I will be able to continue my “retarded monkey with ADD” style of riding on the big wheels next year.

NO RIDING THIS WEEKEND??? My wife planned a little trip to the mountains for us, and I won’t be bringing a bike. I might be wrong, but I think this is the first time I have headed west to the mountains without a bike. I guess it’s okay to miss a weekend of riding. I ‘ve heard that other people have done it and lived to tell the tale. I checked around on the internet for tips on surviving through a weekend without a bike. There’s not a lot of info out there on the subject. I am scared.

Other than getting a new bike, the biggest news on the horizon is THE BIG STAMPEDE on Nov 12th. It’s just a bike swap meet, but for a bike whore such as myself it is the opportunity to fill needs I didn’t even know I had. Recumbent tandem? How much? Twenty inch fixed gear BMX? Think of all the fun I could have on that. Not to mention that consumerism keeps us safe from terrorism, right?

Oh well, if you go for a ride this weekend spin the pedals once for me.

Thanks for all the feedback the other day on the bike media biz. I guess I shoulda got a degree in Public Relations instead of Art Education and Inebriation. I’ve never been good at asking for shit. I prefer working for it myself and never having to ask for help, although I enjoyed my stint with Ellsworth’s Team Twentyfour when someone else asked for shit and all I had to do was ride. I know how to ride.

Sorry to go back on a Viking tangent yesterday. I felt the need to spin a yarn.

So what now? I got my big fat Rampage 29′er tire from Mike C. the other day. I mounted one up on my Bontrager wheel (all I got for now) just to see how it would look. Not bad, but still dwarfed in width and height by my old 2.5 Diesel. What did I expect? Alright, here’s where I get half-assed. I weighed the wheels on my bathroom scale.

26″ Industry Nine wheel with a 819 rim, Conti 2.5 Diesel, 8″ rotor, bolt on QR, and some leftover Stan’s goop

4.8 pounds

29″ Bontrager wheel (Rig take-offs), Bonty QR, Rampage, 6″ rotor, and a 2.1-2.5 26″ tube

4.8 pounds

What did I prove? Take into consideration all the variables of my weigh-in on a shitty bathroom scale (the scale is shitty, not the bathroom), probably nothing. In my mind though I see that I can run one of the fattest 29′er tires and not even notice a weight change. When I get my I-9 wheels things will only get better. I mounted the wheel on my Dean just so I could peer over my “enhanced” front end, and it looks pretty monster-trucky. I want to run things over NOW.

“Beware world, for death awaits you all with big nasty round rubber things.”

To fully understand (Off)Seasonal Affective Disorder we need to look no further than the VIkings. First a little review about what we already know about Vikings. For years they were content to kill everything within walking distance, but eventually they killed everybody they could find. They got real bored and drank a mess of beer until one smart Viking built a boat. He invited some of his friends to join him on his boat and they ended up in a new place where there were lots of people to kill. They had one crazy summer, and a pretty good fall, but soon enough winter set in and the waters froze over. Shit.

Well the Vikings are not an idle people so they sharpened thier swords, and daydreamed about new ways to dispatch their enemies. They started to consider walking across the ice in search of a new enemy that needed to die violently, but the Viking wives put a stop to that. They told their combatant husbands that they were gone all year, and it wouldn’t hurt for them to stay around the lodge for awhile. Obviously even Viking men listened to their wives as they were able to reproduce for many generations (think about it). So the Viking men took the winter off from the usual killing and death mongering and sat around the lodge drinking beer. Sadly though, the beer eventually couldn’t ward off the pain of withdrawl, and the men sank into a bored stupor. This was the first case of (Off)Seasonal Affective Disorder.

So we all know that I consider myself a single speed Viking of sorts. Now I, like my ancient brethren, am facing the off season. I have beer in the fridge, but I know it’s not enough. My blacksmith is forging a far more effective sword than my current blade, and the wizards are conjuring up some magic that will help me slice down my enemies with haste. I look to the future and see many battles that will be fought, yet it is not enough. I need more, but I will not get it anytime soon. Of course my patient and loving Viking wife is thrilled with the prospect of having me around the lodge more, and she is making domestic plans for my idle hands on a daily basis. It’s been a good year for this killing machine, but reflection on the past does not satiate my hunger for new conquests. Like my fore-fathers I must wait for the ice to break up, and a new batch of kitchen passes to be issued. Waiting is an old man’s game, and I suck at it. I have slipped back into OSAD mode till the time comes to kill again.

Little known Viking fact #1: The anti-depressant drug Zoloft was actually named after a Viking named “Zoloft of Mogadore” who’s  OSAD was so bad that it actually stopped the rotation of the earth for three days.