Scruffman

Chillin' at Papa Ted's place for the New Year. The last few years we've rung in the New Year down at Crappy's over some 34oz Blue Moons (beats the lite beers on tap). This year it's actually snowing. I can't remember the last time I was home and there was snow on the ground and more snow falling out of the sky. Braved the snow for lunch at Coney Island. While we were inside munching coney dogs, the snow picked up. H. doesn't like the way it hits you in the face, fwwbbbt fwwbbt. It was fun slip slidin' around today. Several times while turning the car, we weren't turning. I miss this. I also miss how people here slow down and drive with caution in the snow, unlike Nashie where people seem to drive faster. The morons.


Here T.roy, check out the recent selection available in the Coronado. Some Fat Tire, 2 Below, Boulevard Wheat, along with others. Wine cellar is stocked for the holiday too. 4:23PM, you know what that means right T.roy? Happy hour. Gonna run. Happy New Year.


If you're bored, sick of spending time with the family, or find yourself with some extra Holiday gift cash burning a hole in your pocket, shoot over to Hodge's world and donate to the puppy fund or if you can manage, adopt a pup.

Oh, and sorry about forgetting to put the comment link on the last 2 posts. It's back now, enjoy.

Def Mole - Poppin' and Lockin'

Since SexPot Jeanie doesn't enjoy reading about wheels, this post won't mention the 26" x 2.6" mini-pug tires or how much fun they are to ride and how I feel like Stevie Peat rippin' around Ft. William's Downhill course when I ride them. Or how well they hook up in turns and soak up the rooty roots and rocky rocks. Nope, nary a peep about the 2.6" tires and their massive grin factor.

Perchance she'd prefer to hear about how we celebrated Jut Rut's final night in NashVegas? Oh, wait she was there (for most of it). She got first hand experience of the Tap Room, the new Dunkleweisen, Pizza Perfect Cheese Chunks , but missed out on the 12 Street Tap Room (complete with saggy bottom Jazz Band). I could talk about the rare sighting of the mythical cheese pizza eating Holland, the "I can't believe she's not having to work tonight" "did you cut your hair?" H., and the enchanting yet thermally challenged Ashevillian Emmie, but she'd probably tire of that as well.

I could reminice about how her lesser half has a penchant for long blond haired male mountain bike riders riding on the road (check out that ass... he must work out) and small Asian train riding college girls in the Midwest. But who wants to read about that?

Instead I'll just bid a fond adieu to Jumpin' Jut Rut, Nashie isn't going to be the same without you. Oh, and don't let the door over the bridge hit ya in the ass on your way outta town. Finally Fred and I won't have to cross the damn river.

Happy New Year all. Ta ta till Snake.

Swapping to Big Wheels

No, not those shark jumping big wheels, 26" big wheels. 26 x 2.6 that is. Monster truck size. Since H. had to work Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day, we celebrated Jerry Christmas (I decided Merry gets all the attention so Jerry should get a day too) at her parents house Sunday. I made out like a bandit. New helmet for my corn kernel shaped melon, a new stash of tubes and Co2 (ladies, this present is always a great idea for you cyling beau, even if he runs tubeless), asthma friendly pillows (bed time has meant asthma time for me lately), and a surprise set of new rubber for Johnny Black Death Cash. While purchasing the new lid for me, H. had stumbled across an incredible deal for tires, which turned out even sweeter when she went to check out: 2 for 1 tires. I've got one set of tires for each bike. No spares. I'm also pretty picky on what rubber I roll, not too mention cheap (they only get purchased when a web store is selling $45+ tires for $19.99, which is hit or miss). Usually not the best tire choices for the terrain, but ones that are predictable and tear resistant. Not light, and not really fast rolling. So H. was a little leary if the tires would be recepted with glee.

Switching to rigid SS, I've slowly weened myself off of 1.9 tires in favor of 2.0 tires with little to no knobs and super stiff side walls. I don't like squirmy soft feeling tires. Then Ivory turned me on to knobby 2.3 Conti Vertical Pro tires last January. I rode them all year on the Surly. The big knobs offered a bit of spring and I upgraded them to the heavier Vertical Pro-Tection version which has the extra thick puncture resistant rubber and supa-strong, reinforced side walls. Pretty much eliminating the need for the slime skin tire liners I like to run, but run anyway. Whoever said 26" wheels don't have the momentum holding power of 29" wheels obviously didn't know how to weight their hoops properly. :-)

Anyway, knowing that I am finicky about tires, it was a gamble for H. So far the gamble has paid off. I threw the front tire on as soon as I got home and took it out for a short spin with the pups. Mounted up and inflated the tire is HUGE! It barely fits into the Vicious Fork, but it does fit and it rolls surprisinly well. Using my incredibly accurate left hand vs right hand then swap right to left hand tire scale, the new tire feels close to the same weight as my old 2.3 with liner. However riding the new tread is vastly different. It gives the feel of riding a Pugsly (or for you non-cyclists, imagine a bike with a 57 Chevy white wall balloon tire). It floats over everything. I had initially planned on just rolling the front one for a while but after the initial ride, I couldn't get the feel out of my head. Polo was scheduled for X-mas eve since it would be one of Jut's last times to play before his move and it was a full moon, but we didn't get the numbers. Jut, T.roy, and I headed out to find a pub but all were closed around town. We did find Sam's in Hillsboro Village to be open so we went in for a few pints and wings. When I got home I decided to throw the big rear wheel on as well as put the Snake gearing on. Christmas is on Ivory's birthday and it's tradition to ride, so my inaugural big wheel ride would have to wait until morning. I never heard from Ivory. I got bored and the pups were wound up, so I took the pups out and we rode around the testing grounds at the farm for 2 hours.

At first I had a hard time with the big wheels. They roll over everything with ease, especially thick grass and mud. I floated effortlessly over the deep grass around the back and through the mud pit around the tree on the back road. Riding my little testing ground trail though I had a hard time maneuving the bike through the squeeze and up the short steep hill with the log. It took me about 3 tries to clean the squeeze. The tires roll well but weren't so flickable at first. I had to learn how to work them, especially when starting from a stall on a steep technical section. If you have momentum, they are going to roll over everything and anything, but slow, uphill techy maneuvers are tricky with the extra effort required to get the wheels moving. That worrieS me about using them at the Snake. There is so much steep techy uphill and technical rocky lines requiring some finess the last 6 miles that I was leaning towards remounting the 2.3's for Snake. But the big tires are so much fun and super cushy. They roll over rocks like the blob, just engulfing them with barely a bump felt in my hands. This lends itself well to me ripping the rocky downs. I can be a bit more careless with the rigid fork and bad eyesight as the tires will give me a bit of a cushion. They also float over the mud. I rode them along the muddy creek bank to test their shedding ability. Their width helps spread the weight similar to a snow/sand bike and I was able to roll easily through the mud. It usually will be muddy once or twice at the Snake, another plus for the new treads. I kept at it and eventually felt at ease with the larger wheels. I was able to flick them up and over logs, clean the brick stairs, hop, and manual as if they were my old narrower tires. The worrysome side to me now is the long steep ups. The diameter of the 2.6" tire mounted up on my rim is 62x559 compared to 60x559 of my 2.3's. That takes my 46.9 gear inch Snake gearing up to 48.3, which is close to a tooth taller gearing, or one tooth less than 2:1. Snake is doable 2:1 but not fun. It's not really that fun one tooth less, but I guess we'll give it a rip the first time. I'm not in shape to push the larger gear like I did the first run last year, but I think I'll embrace the challenge. The added gearing, added tire girth and weight ought to make it a nice slogfest.

The first Snake is on my birthday, so I'll be looking for more fun than for field crushing and I think the new wheels are going to keep me laughing and smiling as they are a trip to ride. They may even cause some cursing and crying on some of the hills. My ankle is still giving me some issues and Hodge really wants to say he beat me, so stacking the deck in his favor will be my Jerry Christmas gift to him. But, if my large heavy hoops and stout gearing best him, it'll be happy birthday to me. Like Jut says "Live like a rock star, race like a rock star".


Holiday Highlights:

Conchos, conchos, conchos. If you've seen the second Pirates movie, the game the sailors are playing on the Flying Dutchman is Conchos. A liars game. Nothing like sitting in on a table full of some of the best BS'ers around. A whole 3 generations of'em, Father, Son, and Grandson. Took me 3 games but I finally came out on top, after getting taken out the first two by the youngest.

Testing the MiniPug out at Chickasaw with Hennessey and Old Greg. Lunchin' at the Sandwhich Shoppe, then building a 3 story brick tree house with Tim (Boss man). OK, it wasn't 3 stories or bricks, but it did look like an episode of This Old House (or for you youngins' out there: "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition").

Holiday Lowlight:

Riding Saturday at Franklin State Forrest around mile 11 we ran into a hunter walking up the trail behind us. We said hi several times but received no reply. As he passed he said "You boys is pretty brave being out here during big game season" without slowing down or looking at any of us. We weren't sure if that was a veiled threat or just his way of "bein' friendly". There weren't any of the normal orange "closed for hunting" signs posted and usually if we ride between 11 and 3 the hunters aren't out anyway. They normally come heading into the trail by atv around 3 before the sun starts to set, so We headed off down the trail not thinking too much more of it, just happy he didn't shoot us. As the trail wound down into a small valley, we were haulted by a gun shot. Up to the left on top of the ridge, not more than 50 yards away was Mr. Friendly with a smoking rifle. He'd shot over our heads and said something incoherent towards us. What the hell?! T.roy and I wanted to confront him and ask what the hell his problem is. Who the hell shoots towards people? Chris pointed out discretion is the better part of valor so we just headed on down the trail trying to put space between the a-hole with a rifle and us. Once to the road (the halfway point of the trail) we decided to roll back to the cars, the fog was rolling in and misty rain starting. The third time is always the charm and we had just used up 2 of them with the jerk. Although wound up and pissed off, we all had no wounds or missing appendages, just a shortened ride. (more reading and photos of me sporting the "dicky" over at Greg's place).

Brunchfast

An impromptu Yazoo crew pre-Occasion pre-party erupted last night at the club house (aka work). T.roy and I were the last two remaining at work. I got an emergency phone call from a panicked client about some issues, so I had to buckle down and get an update out while T.roy and The Mannondale worked the conference table over (aka Ping Pong). JutRut showed up on his way from the 'boro and stopped in to join us in a few Yazoo Hefs and Pale Ales before heading over to the Harpeth Bicycles shin-dig. Several rounds of king of the table were played as we discussed life, polo, and the upcoming loss of the Jut to Asheville.

Thanks to ever-late Eli, we showed up fashionably late to the Harpeth party. Hot wings and veggie food splayed out with a warhead of Yazoo Dos Perros up front and Pale Ale in the back. Perfect. Lots of folks were out. Many whom I'd not seen nor spoken to in a long, long while. It was great to catch up, share lessons learned, discuss events and training with folks like Hank Sr. and Jamie Dial (ultra-distance runner extraordinaire). A large number of the crew were present and we all enjoyed wet crotches from Dunnsy and Diesel and their water bottle water gun and watching SexPot Jeanie eat greasy wings (oo baby). Post party many headed East, a few of us South and finished the night at McCreary's Irish Pub. Thanks Henry, Fred, Jeff S., and others for throwin' down, nothing like drinking and partying in a bike shop to make it feel like a Holiday.

This morning I awoke to 55 degree temps and the promise of sunshine. Andy, T.roy, and I had mentioned doing brunch at the new breakfast diner near work, so I left with an empty tank. After sweating out the poison (beer) for the first half of the commute, I was near starving on the second half and not finding the legs to turn the cranks. Andy arrived shortly after me and we had to wait on T.roy. Eventually T.roy showed up (almost making it a lunch instead of brunch) and after about 5 mins of work we rolled out and enjoyed a nice brunchfast. Guess I should probably get to work now, huh? Happy Friday all!

Hells Kitchen

Inspired by Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares show (love brutally honest people) I cleaned the dishes and motivated the worn out from a long day of activity H. to get up and make some cookies, as my supply was dangerously low. While she wasted time making haystacks, I found the secret recipe for my beloved no-bake cookies. I've eaten them forever but have never made them. Last night I got to boil the sugar, cocoa, milk mix, do the water trick, then add in a stick of butter. a STICK of butter?!!! What the hell, I'm not a butter fan. I'm going to experiment with cutting the sugar and butter quantities down. Maybe replace it with more oats and peanut butter. Maybe even some bacon. Snake Creek power food right hee-yah.

Harpeth Bicycles is having their annual Christmas (aka "Occasion") Party tonight. Swing by the shop as they'll have food and drinks. Take time to chat with Fred about 650b, Snake Creek gearing, Phil Wood parts, order a custom bike, or just hang out to eat and drink the free food like I plan on doing. Remember, ask for Yazoo beer.

Speaking of beer. Hennessey gave me a Troegs Nut Brown Ale to take home to try after polo Tuesday night. I sat and enjoyed it last night when I got home from work. Very tasty. I grilled up some chicken, squash, and red pepper (open frozen bags, heat skillet. Watch out Gordon Ramsey, there's a new kid in town.) wraps for dinner then sat down with a Flying Dog Tire Bite Amber ale. Pretty good. Even has a critter that looks like Mr. Smooth biting a tire. Eli had left the Flying Dog sampler in my fridge a while back. T.roy got his "day off" gift from the guys at work yesterday (Malt of the Earth) and it had a write-up with it about Flying Dog. We knew it shared a building with Stranahans, but didn't realize it was started by Mr. Stranahan. Good stuff, both the whiskey and the beer.

Beating Friends with Sticks

I made it back out for bike polo last night after laying low for a few weeks. Tempers tend to flare sometimes, especially between me and T.roy. More in the big vs little brother sense than the Hodge vs wall punching sense, but enough to kind of take some fun out of it and it usually is started by me. Talking to The Mannondale he made a good point, that it comes down to peoples' individual expectations. Like in those pick-up b-ball games at the Y or a park; some think it's ok to foul and that those fouled will call it out. Some think that a foul isn't a foul, and some think fouls just shouldn't be called. That made me realize why T.roy and I tend to butt heads more. I expect players to not cut off or risk those with the ball just to steal the ball as it's just a 'for fun' game between friends. He expects similar behavior but also expects people to yield after 3 taps and moves in on the ball, so his vision of playing the ball matches my vision of a cutting off act. Hence the flare ups. No right or wrong, just different expectations. Most try to call it if someone does something that risks anothers life/teeth/bike etc. Cutting off or anything risking yanking the front wheel out from someone is what sets me off or any needless move where someone could get hurt just to steal the ball. I guess in a word I expect Courtesy to prevail over getting the ball.

What I realized after last night is that the butting of heads (mine and others) seems to stem from my expectation of wanting to play the ball vs playing the bike. Used to be we all played the bike as we had very little ball control. So holding a line to force others to yield and dribbling the ball all the way from end to end to score were the norm. Kind of a derby with mallets, ye with best handling and larger stones prevailed. We've now attempted to abide by the 3 touch rule. 3 touches then you've got to pass it. This rule is to promote team play and ball tactics vs playing the bike. I don't think we're all on the same page there yet like we had been on the play the bike/derby version we started out playing. It's also opened the door for those who couldn't play the bike and run the ball due to others being able to keep and control the ball better to now play the bike and run the ball since those other players are now trying to play the passing game. So you have an evolution of players playing different games on the same court. Those that are moving on to play the ball and those that are finally able to do the ball hog/bike derby plays of early matches.

Needless history and growing pains aside, last night was a lot of fun. Only one notable tiff and it was really a misunderstanding gone awry. The passing game was in full effect last night. H. scored 3 or so real goals. Goals made by accepting a pass from a teammate, dribbling to set up her shot, and taking the shot. She was stoked. She was smiling. She was having fun. That is what it's about. It's not about who scores 5/7/9 goals first. I think the last 2 games played, Hennessey, H., and I made every goal with all 3 of us touching the ball. Through the wheel passes, double through the wheel passes, and break shots were handled like we knew what we were doing. That is the game I envision when I roll out onto the court.

It was a fun time and it revitalized my interest in the game. Hopefully after the holidays we'll get some more games on and it'll be more addictive fun like it was in the early stages. I also hope we can get a last game in before Jut moves to Asheville. And Fellas, I'll try to keep my trap shut if Clint promises to look left. :-)

If the horses are wearing jackets it's way to cold for us to be out here

Those words sprang from the 8-ball's lips Sunday as we rolled down Old Hillsboro Rd in the cold, windy, cloudy grey with snow flurries weather. Good thing for 8-ball I don't fall for his conventional wisdom. I had planned a route that would be about 50 miles (which in reality would have been 75 ish, but definitely under a 100 most likely) that would keep us out of traffic, shelter us some (hopefully) from the wind, and make 8-ball pay for beating me 4 games to zip in fake darts.

8-ball is probably one of the best faux dart hustlers around. It took me 2 games to even get a feel for the bent tipped, plastic, weightless darts. By games 3 and 4 we had a match on our hands with me leading both times and each one came down to a race to the bulls. 8-ball with his freakishly long reach and power toss vs my lob technique (not recommended for weightless plastic bent tipped fake darts), nipped me each time. It was still a good time, mostly because Sexpot (Sexkitten was just too long to type into the phone) Jeanie and H. were in the house heckling me. We'd met up with Eli and headed over to Hogg Wild (yep it looks about how it sounds) to see Clint and the Sullivan Sisters play. I'd seen them before and figured H. would dig them (she did). She doesn't get to enjoy the night life much working weekend nights at the Hospital and school all week long, so it was a rare treat to get out and even rarer to get out with Mike N. is HOT! and Sexpot Jeanie.

We pre-partied at the farm Christmas party. Stockings were stuffed with peppermints and carrots for the horses and hung on the stall doors, lots of goodies with someone making horse head cookies with each horses name on them. I don't ride much with the farm customers as I tend to trail ride vs jump and flat work in the ring, so I don't know many of the people. It was a surprise then to see Crow and Ian's names on a cookie. I guess not so much since everybody loves Crow and Ian is the infamous "wild" one, but still it was a nice surprise. I didn't eat it though as it seemed weird eating my horses head, there's gotta be some sort of weird voodoo associated with that.

Friday night was H.'s introduction to sushi. Yeah that can always go either way. Peters is the best. The Mannondale loves Peters. I ordered eel (my favorite), salmon, and tuna rolls, a snake roll, and the Chef's choice nagiri cut. H. actually loved the eel and didn't mind the nagiri cuts, but preferred the rolls. It was a nice night with The Mannondale, Fred and Libby, Freshie Beth and her Zero Greg (hah!). Followed by a trip to kroger for milk, cereal, and a $9.99 movie, this time 'The Goonies'.

For those of you looking for some weekend excitement, rent or buy 'The Goonies', then grab your favorite bottle of Stranahans/Makers Mark/Templeton Rye and some shot glasses. Every time Mikey puffs his inhaler, take a shot. Every time someone yells (and there is a lot of yelling) shut-up, be quiet, or shoosh, take a shot. Every time Mikey's older brother works out in a bandana, take a shot. Guaranteed a good time (or to at least improve the movie viewing).

Luckily my ankle injury's remaining pain seems to be contained to the myo-sopo-lipa-alidocious ligament (ask 8-ball, he can pronounce it) which means riding won't further injure the sprain. However, my flexibility in it isn't normal and this turned into me favoring it. About 35 miles into the ride that favoring unveiled itself as knee pain, so I cut the planned 50 (75) mile ride short and we headed home with 49.something miles on the odometer.

PS. Jen the new Walz flappy is fan-#@*king-tastic! It's all I've needed to keep my head warm in the cold so far. Perfecto! Thanks again.

Squirrel Nutkin's Visit

After a nice round of pong with Co-worked Kevin, I loaded up the truck and headed for Brewery, Tap Room that is, pints of porter, pints of stout, all the cycling kids were out. Ok, not all, but a good sized crew was present. 8-Ball Mike made it out and thanks to an errant click on a website, he now has an iconic t-shirt to replace that ratty old, worn every frikkin day SSUSA t-shirt. Jeanie, doesn't that boy own any other shirt besides ones I have?

The Squirrels of Fayetteville were able to make it up to the big city and share in the magic of the Tap Room. Stories of merriment, upcoming events, new bikes on order, singlespeeds, horses, asses, and shenanigans involving horses, asses, and singlespeeds filled the propane warmed brick hall. I talked to the head Squirrel and booked top bunk at Hunter's house for the week of SSUSA/DSG, Hennessey has dibs on the tree house (watch the stairs), it's going to be a fun filled week, I can't wait. Trans Iowa (the trip, the pre-event shenanigans, the event shenanigans, and the post event shenanigans (go ahead, say it 8-ball, I set it up for ya)) is going to be the perfect pre-party. I'm really excited. So many races I love, but going back year after year sometimes the magic is lost and you crave the unknown and newness of those yearly beloved races before they became yearly beloved. It's a blast of freshness for me, so I'm motivated and pumped. It's not just pain for pain's sake, there is purpose and new unknown, undiscovered, never before reached by me levels of suffering and fun. (Shenanigans!)

For Three Strange Days...

I couldn't put a smile on my face (School of Fish fans?). Three days of no riding had me stir crazy. Tuesday was 76 degrees sunny and gorgeous. I drove. Stupid ankle. Weds morning I couldn't take it anymore so I donned my rain gear and headed out to work in the cool drizzle. Nothing like a good steady drizzle, gray skied, cool winter day on a road bike to bring a smile upon your face. In my mind this is what the road bike is for: riding in crappy cold disgusting horendous weather. I mean why waste a nice day on a road bike when there is a perfectly good mountain bike and trails to be ridden? The ankle hurt to bend and press down while climbing or pushing a big gear, so I tried to settle into as steady of a spin as possible. The commute home had cold steady soaking rain, wind, speeding cars, darkness, and a really stiff and sore ankle. My ankle is more sore today than it was Sunday. I must have read a page out of the Bad Idea Racing handbook; "How to reinjure an injury by being impatient" (or would that be "See Dick hurt foot. See Dick re-hurt foot.").

More rain this morning but it's supposed to cool down and clear up for Friday, so I hope to get another ride in. Maybe the ankle will be better by then? (What do you say Doc Hodge, sprained Achilles should only be a day or two off the bike right? You know a sprain is worse than a break. (Or is that a strain? I should ask the 8-Ball)) The weekend is calling for crappy with more crappy and a chance of even more crappy over night, gonna be a great crappy road bike weekend! Nothing ticks the hours and miles by faster than crappy cold wetness and road grime followed by a warm cup of coffee and some 2 for 1 Imperials at the local pub. I'm going to see how much grime I can accumulate on the geared roadie then send it down to Hodge for a tune up, all caked in crud. He loves that.

Rumor on the street is that Greg's spot will soon be filled. I don't believe it, but stranger things have happened. I hope he didn't go for the XT hubs and the Delgado rims, that'd be a huge mistake. (heh).

Team meeting for the crew at the Tap Room tonight, The Squirrels of DSG are buying the first round.