Innard-side Out

Too all friends real, internet, imagined, and even Canardian, we hope you all enjoy a Merry Happy Holiday.

And may all your dragons come true!

Full Circle

 Horsies go poo.

Depending on who's in training or not, we typically have 3-5 horses living at the commune. They are kept in the stalls overnight in the winter and during the day in the summer. About 8ish hours on average with 2 meals served in the stall along with hay for grazing. All this adds up to a bunch of poo. We stack the poo on Mount Poopopolis, our massive compost heap. Some of the compost is then taken and used in gardens, around plants, or just to fill in holes in the ground.

PooBerry?

Jeffy and Wendy hauled off some poop for their garden this spring. They planted lots of things, one of which being blueberries. Jeffy came into the shop today to get a headset pressed into his hot off the line MootoX YBB and get the brake lines run through the guides. Besides bragging about his swank new frame, he hand delivered me some Wendy-made Blueberry jam. Made from the very berries that grew forth from our horse poop. I've named it Fertileberry in honor of the symbolic completion of the circle of life in the crap seat.

Have a FertileBerry Christmas.

Sticking Around

Readying for year 3.

Every December I strip the bike down. Clean and grease/ti prep the bottom bracket, seat tube, and headset. Install a new chain and every couple years swap out to a new chainring if need be. That's the beauty of running a singlespeed, very few parts to keep up or replace, and one of the main reasons it's why I ride what I ride.

Bath time. 

Simplicity, longevity, and ride quality are also behind the reasoning why I prefer a ti hardtail. Year after year, ride after ride, the smiles just keep coming. I'm not a fan of the model year upgrade-itis. The change the color, change the components and bam! new bike model. Madness.

Off with the old.

I've always admired Mary and Mike for racing at the Elite level on the same frames year after year after year. With all the money easily pissed away on biking exploits, it's hard to get behind dropping bills each year for a bike upgrade. I guess if I had more disposable income - or was raised differently - I might, but I don't and I wasn't. With the down economy, employment changes, being on-the-declining-side-of-the-bell-curve salary ladder, and an uncertain future, it's better to save than to receive.  

Despite the rumors of being delicate, my decals have endured well. 

Why am I babbling on about this drivel? A few things have been rattling around in my head and causing some consternation. One being the inevitability of needing a more capable commuter bike. The other being berated for not racing cross on a true cross machine. Everything coming with the caveat that "well, you were racing on a mountain bike", from talking cross to comments about race performance. Apparently, it's a faux pas. Akin to not matching bar tape to saddle, or stem manufacturer to handlebar. Meh.

With just the slightest peeling of a corner of the clear covering. 

I can barely afford to keep my mountain bike race ready, let alone double that maintenance cost for an often muddy, sandy, and rough on equipment adventure such as cyclocross. I only race a handful of cross races a year, not really justification for dropping a few G's on a race specific bike. The costs associated are prohibitive if I want to do it on the cheap, and approaches absurdity if I want to do it right.

Puzzles. I like puzzles.

However, the addition of a better equipped commuter bike that can help cut down the time on the road and double as a cross racing rig starts to chip away at some of those arguments. I find myself looking into all the available options, dreaming of the possibilities. Running the numbers, trying to make the round fit into the square fiscal future. Unlikely.

The life changing FS500. Mine had matching donuts on the grips. Sweet.

Yet there is something intriguing about a single bike to do it all. I like the challenge of the versatility Johnny Rigor offers. I can go from gravel to cross setups, xc racing to adventure racing, bike-packing to commuting, book delivery to pub crawls, bike polo to pumping tracks. Sure it's not always the most ideal setup, but it usually works out pretty well, the challenge is fun, and always, always puts a smile on my face. It reminds me of working twice as hard to keep up with my buddies riding to school on our bmx bikes. Them on their swanky freewheeled Predator and Rattlers, me on my heavy and kid cranks & coaster brake 1980 Free Spirit FS 500 (Which, next to my green machine, is still one of my favorite gifts ever received). Despite its shortcomings, the bike got me from point A to Z and all the points in between,  and never let me down in the woods. Freedom.

Kablam! Back in action.

So my frugal self will continue to wrestle with my consumeristic self and the battle will rage within for years to come. In the meantime, my bike is tuned up and ready for another year of adventures. I also managed to reincarnate my previously broken ultimate lever, saving me the cost and internal strife of replacement. Score.

Holy Spokecicles!

Who needs Red Spoke Rovals when you've got Icicle style?

The final day of racing in this year's Cross The Way cyclocross series went down today in what was a perfect send off provided by Mother Nature:  10+ hours of rain followed by falling temps and finally snow.

The Cat 4s went off first at 10 am in the balmy 36 degree temps. The wind was nipping and biting out on the Lock 4 peninsula, but it wasn't too horrid. Yet. I didn't get to see the course yesterday nor get a chance to pre-ride it today. I stood near the pavilion to snap some start photos then JD and I made our way up to the top of the peninsula to watch the rest of the course. What I saw out on the peninsula stopped me in my tracks. I was greeted with a string of riders looking like they were knitting and pearling! It was like staring at a living M.C. Escher painting. Perhaps pre-riding would have been a good idea. Meh.

The Monster is Back!

Why do you call him Tony "The Untouchable" Adair? 

Cuz you can't touch him, Avi. 

The Mongoose gettin' Muddy. Yup, believe it. 

Rapha wearing, tea and cookie eating Parker "Nancy" Gates

Mongoose chasing the Monster.

As the Cat 4 race went on, the snow started to fall along with the temps.

photo by Wolfgang Gander

By the time the CX3 race happened, it was getting straight up cold. The wind was picking up, the snow falling more earnestly, and the temps plummeted. By the time the SS race started, the temp was 26 - a full 10 degrees colder within 2 hours!

photo by Wolfgang Gander

Due to not knowing the course, I hesitated and got a bad start in the CX3 race and was tied up in early Escher traffic. After a few frustratingly unsuccessful attempts, I finally managed to squeak around a few corner blockers and made my way back to the front of the race. As I entered "the turn" (ie the one where everyone else in the earlier races had been falling) I picked a straight inside line while Ed (who was just ahead of me) rode and took an outside line. He realized his poor choice and went to correct his line. I let him know I was inside and continued on my line, feeling like I cut him off. That's racing, but I felt pretty badly and apologized a few times across the barrier tape as we wound around the course, but he just yelled at me to go faster.

I managed to fight my way up and hold onto 3rd place, which was much better than any of my other cx races of late. I really enjoyed the course and had a lot of fun, which I think aided in my success. I also love bad weather racing, makes it feel more intense and adds a bit of unpredictability to it all. Plus I was dressed perfectly, I never got hot, but never got cold either. Finally I'm starting to figure out the wardrobe.

This was frozen in during the ss race, no wonder it wouldn't seat into the pedal. 

The SS race started and I tried for the hole shot, but a few pedal strokes into the start my left foot slipped and I came down hard on my top tube with my thigh. I couldn't get my left cleat to clip in, so I balanced my shoe on the pedal and tried to get back into the race. I kept futzing with the shoe and pedal whilst racing and somewhere in the first set of Escher turns it clipped in. Just past "the turn" I finally got around Jimmy and Jeremy who were sitting first and second just in time for my cleat to accidentally unclip in a slick muddy left hand turn and I was back to precariously balancing the shoe on the slick pedal. Seconds later Jeremy and Jimmy swarmed around me and passed me as if I were sitting still. Damn. 

I finally got the cleat to go back in and I powered on as best I could, passing Jimmy through the barriers (had to unclip again) and getting back in the groove. I was making gains on Jeremy until the line, but he was able to hold me off. It was a fun race. The snow, the mud, the course, the competitors, and all the great hecklers in the crowd made it one hell of a series send off. I'm already longing for the 2011 series. 

Snowy Days and Gritty Comics

The weather has been wintry cold lately. Temps in the low teens have greeted several early morning rides.  Not the coldest weather to deal with, but rather unusual for the Southeast. It's nice though, gives a winter season feel to the upcoming holidays.

The cold weather has brought rain with it, which has kept most local trails unrideable due to freeze/thaw of the wet trails and hovering around freezing temp changes. Luckily the soil up on the ridge is loamy and fast draining, allowing JD and I to continue getting some trail time in despite the poor weather.

Remember when I said I was lucky for great weather on my days off and I then said it would rain every Friday after the fact? Well, it didn't rain, but the freeze/thaw conditions left most trails out of commission for me to get some ride time in today. However, I was lucky enough to have a viable alternative that offered plenty of miles and hours on the bike.

Ride For Reading had a book delivery planned for today. Not only is it a fun event to take part in, but this one was delivering to a school in North Nashville, not too far from the homestead. I helped Mathew plan the route as much of it utilized my normal commuting routes, so I knew they'd be good roads for a group of bikers to be on. I rode to LP field to meet the group and then peeled off to ride home on the route back from the school. I managed 55 mostly hilly miles on the Moots today, 10 or so with a trailer loaded down with boxes of books for underprivileged kids. There's nothing quite as cool as 150 children screaming and cheering as you ride into the gym carrying books for them. Their excitement is contagious.

Hanging out in the school library as the kids picked out the books they wanted (they were allowed to choose 1 book to take home, instructed to read it at least twice, then pass it on to a friend, cousin, neighbor, etc..), we cyclists chatted amongst ourselves. Jimmy and I were chatting about us as kids and what we would have been like choosing books. There was one kid who got in trouble and Jimmy said that was him as a child. That he'd be the one who did something just to be in trouble, like trying to stuff lots of books under his shirt. That got me thinking about me and a couple other friends as kids.

I envisioned T.roy as a (bearded and beer drinking) kid carefully calculating which book to take. Dividing them into different groups until he eventually figured out the book that offered the best entertainment with the least amount of effort required. Like a math book, puzzle book, or book on barley. Whichever book he chose, we'd all wish we'd been cool enough to pick it.

H. would pick a book about a horse. Doesn't matter what horse, just as long as it was about horse. And she wouldn't give it to anyone else to read. It was her horse book and she'd read it to her "horse" (aka a kids bike with ropes tied to the handlebars as reigns).

I would be the kid that picked a sad book, or one about a hawk, with lots of cool dark pictures, then immediately started to worry that it would get stolen or torn. A book that I was given, instructed to read twice then pass on to someone. Yup, I would worry about a book I'm supposed to give away being stolen.

Hennessey (also a bearded kid) would huff up to the table, gruff a bit, say that all the books suck. Then turn to me and say "I want yours",  grab the book out of my hand, and shove me as he gruffed back to the back of the room.

We'd make a cool comic strip. Like Peanuts only grittier with singlespeeds, beer, and funny pants.

Reverently Jen-Tastic!

Walz Caps "Find A Cure" - Caps For A Cause Collection

I've had boobs on the mind lately. Not so much in the teenage lusting after pin-ups sense but more the save 2nd base breast cancer kind. A friend's wife is battling it at the moment. This same friend recently lost his father to cancer. Another friend and co-worker is watching his mother lose a cancer battle with an ailing father all the while overcoming a big battle with cancer himself. I've been through it. Gone through it with others. And tiring of having to watch others go through it. Cancer sucks.

Ribbons float under the brim.

It's been a while since I've purchased a new Walz Cap. When I saw the recent Caps for a Cause edition, I had to get me one. For one it's a cause near and dear to my heart. Secondly, pink and black never go out of style. And third, I've always wanted a Walz Cap with a different design on the underside of the brim. Bonus being it's wool. It also has a slightly stiffer brim than some of my older ones, which should make some folks much happier since it'll hold shape better into strong headwinds. All in all it's a ballin' cap for a cause.

The folks at Walz, being the awesomely wonderfully generous and lovely people that they are, tossed a surprise cap into my mailer. Probably my utmost favorite cap in the world is my wool flappy cappy. This is my go to cap in cold weather and it has never let me down. I've had tens of people ask me what I use to keep warm when riding in the winter and the first item I list is a Walz wool ear-flap cap. Tough to beat. It's wool, it's warm, it stays warm when wet, and if you start getting too hot you can just flip up the ear flaps to vent some steam. Easy peasy.

To my surprise, lurking inside the mailer with my other caps was an updated and stellar looking new ear flappy cappy! The construction is over-the-top notch. Hand made in California, USA. Any one of their myriad caps would be a killer ChristmaChanukKwanzaakah present for a cyclist, hipster/fixster, or outdoors enthusiast person you love.

Thanks Jen.

Marking the Competition

Apple Pie Moonshine

Ten Friday's in a row of gorgeous mtb riding weather. Either I'm so happy in my new gig that it's affecting the weather or Friday is statistically the best day of the week to catch the sun. Perhaps it's cruel irony that the last day of the week for most is the best weather to get hopes up before crushing spirits with a rainy weekend. Dunno, but I'm not complaining, I'm diggin' the Friday rides. (I'm sure it'll rain every Friday from here on out now. Sorry)

A group of us met out at the Bell today for a fun, dog-paced ride in the woods. JD typically whines to get going on the trail when I have the mtb out. Catahoulas are notorious for their whine. He's very impatient when it comes to singletrack, he likes to get going and not dilly dally around. I mistook his whining for the "can we get going" whine when, apparently, it was the  "I gotta potty" whine while standing and chatting with Jeffy and MJ in the parking lot before the ride. JD, standing at the end of his leash in front of me, mistook Jeffy's kermit the frog legs for a tree and hiking his leg let it rip, er.. drip. Good thing Jeffy was equipped with water proof shoes and good reflexes today.

I still can't believe he did that to Jeffy! Then again, when you line up for a race (and what trail ride with buds doesn't turn into a race?) you always mark you main competitor. Apparently, JD was marking Jeffy as his main rival, or claiming him as his.

Oh wait, JD says "happy birthday" Jeffy. I guess it was his attempt at giving you gift. You're lucky it wasn't the present he left off to the side of the white trail. 

A Day with the Godfather

JD enjoying the morning views from 1100'.

Several amazing gravel grinder events were to be had Saturday. Sadly I missed out on two such adventures, but after a fun day at work with the pup, we were soon headed to Cookevegas to make up for our losses. Pleasantries included, but weren't limited to, the amazing morning view seen above, a home cooked country breakfast featuring country ham, biscuits and gravy, eggs, a wide assortment of homemade jams, Americano style coffee, and wood stove heat.

Enjoying the views from 500'.

After breakfast and a little bike maintenance, our view soon changed from the top looking down to the bottom looking up. A home cooked breakfast and good company was only the tip of the iceberg, for lurking below the surface was the special invite to ride on one of the best trails in TN: Sykes.

Sykes contains everything I love about mountain biking (rocks, drops, steep climbs, hard turns, flowy descents, technical climbs, double track, thorns, dogs, bridges, hidden rocks, sharp rocks, hard knocks - just to name a few). With trail names such as N.U.R.S.E. (Nearly UnRideable Steep Entrance) and Marriage (starts off fun and easy then gets rocky, harder, and full of ups and downs) how can you not love the place? Well, one way is if you fall. Apparently, injury or embarrassing tumbles will earn a trail or trail feature named in your honor. This labor of love comes to us by the hard work and determination of the Smith County Mafia Godfather, Stanley Wills.

When I grow up, I want to be this guy: The Smith County Mafia Godfather, Stanley Wills.

He's also one of the guys behind the trail system at Defeated Creek. Not only can he build some mean trails, he can also loop together some life changing loops and kick most (decades younger) racers' tails at events such as Snake Creek Gap. All while smiling, laughing, and having fun. Stanley is the biggest kid I know and I hope to be like him if and when I ever grow up.

JD enjoyed our 20+ mile ride

The weather cooperated and helped make today a perfect end cap to the first of the winter holiday weekends. Time spent with good friends and good people. I couldn't have asked for much more. Thank you Steven and Ruthie, for extending the invite and letting me invade your castle for the night. Thanks for all the food and fun. Stanley, thanks for letting us enjoy your singletrack amusement park. Now when are you coming over to help finish my trail?

Santa Cruzing TallGirl

Headless Horseman.

North Shore Steven.

Taking a break at the top.

Can someone explain to me why I chose to ride a singlespeed out here after yesterday's beastly gravel grinder?

Ah Sykes. As Steven says in the clip "it done rode me." I couldn't have said it any better myself. When are we going back?

Rulers, Levels, and Tape

Photo from Jennifer Magli's Facebook McEwen Cross photo album. 

Several other writers in the blogosphere I orbit have begun to talk about how their 2010 has gone for them and their cycling goals, the ups, the downs, and the let downs. I'm sure it'll be a day or two before the "best of" lists start popping up too (I'll have a short post on that coming soon as well). 'Tis the season I guess.

 Photo: Kurt Page

I've been enjoying getting out and racing again after a long battle with a health issue that has plagued my season (and cycling) since May. Every race since PMBAR has come pretty much resulted in misery produced by a rebelious stomach that seems to think food and water should be expelled at any and all cost, no matter the intensity level or distance ridden.

 Photo: Kurt Page

Fortunately the oppressive heat and humidity of Southeastern summer has waned and cooler temps have returned ushering in the return of cyclocross season. The short, intense nature of a cross race has allowed me to compete relatively incident free as no food or drink is really required for their duration. I'm struggling to keep up thanks to my lack of form from lack of training, but what I lack in speed I'm making up for in intensity.

Photo: Kurt Page

I'm having to really dig and push myself harder than I normally would had I had the power to stay up front and rather than being frustrated, I'm actually kind of enjoying it. The stomach issue persists, but it's starting to come around and become less of a ride/race killer.

Thanks to the holiday I was fortunate to be able to get out for an early morning cross workout with Jeremy and the pups in the 'boro before work on Wednesday. During our ride I was able to swap bikes (thanks to Jeremy also being an SPD user) and directly compare differences in handling, acceleration, feel, and subtle nuances between my Rigor setup and a real cross bike. This was the first time I've ridden a cross bike in the manner intended. It was pretty weird. What I thought I would like better about a cross bike, I realized I didn't. And what I thought I wouldn't like better, I did. Go figure.

Having literally looked inside and out for a resolution to my stomach issue has me stepping back and looking at other things with new light and fervidity. I'd made some changes to the Rigor before Wednesday's ride, one that I'd been wanting to swap for some time now but just never took the time. I also pulled out all sorts of digital toys and labored over angles, measurements, and geometry. But that ride on a cross bike had me curious about a few other things, which led to revisiting geometry lessons learned years ago.

Having lost a piece of paper containing fit numbers from several years ago, I took advantage of today's "nothing to do" and set about reclaiming that information by redoing the whole shebang. I then read, researched, and questioned several theories and practices of fit.

After plugging in numbers, getting responses from those that know better, and pulling new measurements, I learned a few things. One of which is that after 7 years of cycling, my saddle height and overall reach numbers on my 2 bikes that were set by comfort and trial and error over many miles of cycling, are spot on according to 3 different fit systems I employed today. That really means squat though. I believe fit is determined more by how you intend to use your bike than by anything else, just found it uncanny that I've always set my bikes up similarly, mostly governed by comfort, and their numbers along with the numbers generated by fit systems, years later, are accurate down to the 16th of an inch*.

The Rigormootis is back to it's full page glory for 2011!

So what's the point of all of this? There really isn't one. I was just bored with time on my hands and a lack of focus for anything else. Besides, all of the geometry, math, and theoretical physics exercises will come in handy when I tackle one of my next projects: updating my Awesome Straps with the latest and greatest versions.

* no claims are made that I have the perfect fit or setup on my bikes. Nor that I am an expert in bike fitting, bio-mechanics or physiology. Numbers just added up which is pretty uncanny and a rarity in my world. Especially when it comes to my check book.