Brightened Up

Party in a bottle with a light up glass. 

I just finished up with day 3 of the new gig and it's even better than it was 2 days ago. Unlike Mr. Fogerty, I am a fortunate one. Having a set working schedule is amazing, I'd all but forgotten how nice it is to know when you have to be at work, when you get to come home, and which days you'll have off (though the latter one is still in flux).

Morning dustings.

The past 3 days I've been up and out early with the pups to get either a run or a ride in before work. A quick stop off at the barn on the way to the trails to feed has helped give H. even more sleepy time. A side benefit of regular working hours: I can actually help out around the farm. What a concept.

It's been great getting out in the mornings before work. By the time traffic rush is ending I'm relaxed and heading into work. We've had spectacular weather this week too with overnight lows in the 40's and daily highs in the 70's. I even had too wool up for this mornings 43 degree outing. Once the sun cleared the ridge it started to heat up, but it's nice not suffering in the heat and feeling a little chill in the air. I'll miss having sunlight before and after work soon though, but the heat and humidity won't be missed much by me.

You don't get to eat until you PLAY WITH ME!!!!

The only adaption left to kick in is getting JD on the morning run routine. I think I need to wake up earlier to get more run down time for him, though it's a double edged sword. The more he runs, the longer he can run so the longer it takes to run him down. A good problem to have. For now he'll have to settle for the morning runs and continue to harass me for attention the rest of the night. Soon enough I'll be getting home earlier and we'll have time for night time bike fun too.

Mini Pulation

Yazoo Summer Ale Farewell

Friday so ended the 12 days of Hell and my final week at my former occupation. Fitting that my last 2 weeks should literally be 2 weeks. A toast to the past and the future with a farewell to Summer Ale followed at Yazoo with a small assortment of friends followed by belly busting battered and fried. A great start to the 3 days of unemployment.

JD takes a drink break in the creek.

OldGreg managed to get a kitchen pass for an afternoon filled with dirt, so JD and I met him out at Monkey Bell for some chilled out singletrack. Temps were high 70's, skies were blue, and the pace (once JD mellowed) was relaxed. Original plans called for a weekend out camping but a delayed hut hut for Clay-ut and horse duties due to beaches kiboshed camping. So JD and I made the most out of what we had and bikes, woods, creeks, and lakes took up the majority of the day and it was fantastic.

gRant's Scant Awesome.

Sunday brought chilly and windy weather to enhance the open road experience. KRS and gRant made it out for a JDM (Joelton Death March) ride.

No fun. JD hates the road bikes.

After KRS repaired the flat suffered 3 feet from the truck and finally getting Chatty Cathy MJ off the phone so we could actually get out on our ride before it became a night ride, we headed out into the wind. It was one of those MC Escher winds where no matter which direction you turn, there it is in your face. We started out Southwest into the wind. Turned West into the wind. Turned North into the wind. Turned East into the wind. And finished up heading South, yup, into the wind.

The mini manipulator in the midst of mini-manipulation.

The final day of unemployment was enjoyed around home and family: babysitting a crying, pooping baby, having my phone eaten by a jealous of the baby puppy, and getting car sick on the way to lunch with the commune. It's been a great 3 days off. Tomorrow begins a whole new chapter. It's pretty damn exciting.

The Equinox of Joe

Brought to you by The Seasons of Joe.

The slumlordess is away again. Another season of Joe has begun. Enter the Equinox of Joe. The Equinox brings us Captain Crunch and Coors Light Home Draft System.

Who needs to balance eggs when you've got a home draft system?

Oh, and fellas: The new Paragon Machine Works titanium bolt kits have arrived. Shiny. Schedule your pick-up/delivery today.

The Season Has Begun

mmmm caramel season.

Despite a lot of things going on, there's not going to be a lot going on here. Here being here, the blog. Sorry for that, but it's the least important rung of the importance ladder and well something had to give.

For you 4 cycling freak readers I'm sure cyclingnews, cyclingdirt, velonews, or bikerumor will have plenty of interbike or doping scandal coverage to keep you entertained for the rest of this week. For the 2 remaining readers who only check in for the animal pics, enjoy this shot of JD trying his Jedi mind tricks to get me to drop the caramel apple.

I'll have things to share soon enough. Until then I've got to go shove "built Ford tough" up somebody's arse. It may be tough but it isn't dependable, drivable, or apparently fixable. Which makes me wonder why you'd tie into that for your new titanium 29'er product? Really? Hmmm... I have a Ford and titanium. If I had to choose between another Fix Or Repair Daily and a titanium 29'er, I'll go Moots. No thanks Ford Tough Serotta, I have had enough reliability problems out of Ford toughness and I'm not about to buy something else "built Ford tough." You know what's "tough" about Ford? Being able to afford all the damn repair costs, that's what. Stupid truck.

Happy Tuesday!

Constancy

Emotional scars.

con·stan·cy (knstn-s) [ˈkɒnstənsɪ]  n.
1. Steadfastness, as in purpose or affection; faithfulness.
2. The condition or quality of being constant; changelessness.
3. the quality of having a resolute mind, purpose, or affection; steadfastness
4. freedom from change or variation; stability

I don't think a better word exists that more aptly defines my '03 5200, well aside from creaky which is technically more of a description than a definition of being, but I digress. Admittedly I'm a bit leery about even typing this post. Typically mere mention of something bringing me joy brings upon it an early demise, but I'm going to go out on a limb and go for broke, as they say.

So why does constancy best define my road bike? Definitions 2 and 4 can almost be taken literally with my bike. I'm not sure anything's been changed on it since early '04 when after rolling over 10,000 miles on the odometer within 12 months I changed the chain, bar tape, and cables/housing. Since then only a new set of tires or two have been swapped out. It's been steadfast since day one.

Its purpose is not to race, nor to crit. Its purpose is to bring joy from pain. To clarify. To offer escape. To be ridden hard in the rain. To take the roads less traveled and often less paved. To occasionally win an emu sprint.

In times of stress I often reach for the stability of my road bike. It faithfully complies without complaint (though often a creak or two is uttered repeatedly). 

Inspired by watching Road to Roubaix again tonight, I've cleaned it up for tomorrow's commute (see why I'm so leery?) and look forward to pretending I've got 3 minutes on the pack with 41k to go.

Home is where the dirt is. 

Fear not though, all this lovey-dovey road bike talk doesn't change anything, I still look like a mountain biker on a road bike. My heart still lies in the woods and every pedal stroke on pavement will be one more wish it were on trail.

Speaking of trail, my 3rd and latest set of DT hoops have lived up to expectations set forth by my previous 2 sets. Not only did they survive soupy mud on their inaugural race, but their first singletrack race left me a few mementos my other rims brought back from their first race too. Consistency, not to be confused with constancy. Whew the pressure is off, first dings have been made. Now where did I put those pliers?

On the Juice

Night time's the right time.

Fall is my favorite time of year. Caramel is coming into season and the temps are cooling down. The downside of fall is the shortened hours of daylight. If I ruled the world work hours would coincide with the hours of daylight. Shorter daylight hours, shorter work days. Longer daylight hours, shorter work days. Simple really.

Traffic, errands, and some minor car maintenance conspired to eat away my daylight. The growing cloud cover and small drizzles didn't help much either. Not wanting the neglected pup to eat through the brick walls, I felt inspired to mount up the lights and head out into the back woods for some laps to run the tyke down while burning off some steam of my own.

Spotlit's rule.

Temps were a perfect 76 autumnesque and the trail offered amazing traction after the bit of rain over the weekend. The green is in sharp contrast to the increasing brown giving an almost carpeted appearance to the trail.

Chased by an El Chupacabra.

Of course no ride in the woods would be complete without some water time. JD has started trying to catch the sticks in the air rather than just fetching them from the water. He's getting pretty acrobatic in his water launches, though still offers the comical belly flop and ensuing gurgles and coughs.

Alligator snapping dogs inhabit the lake.

Our time in the woods was cut a little short when curiosity got the better of JD and he wandered into the woods off the trail. I stopped and hollered for him, his blinking spotlit no where to be seen. Then suddenly I hear him tearing up the trail. I can see the blinking light charging fast now. Then it stops, rolls around, stops, charges again, stops, rolls around, charges.

I thought maybe he'd tangled with a snake and it was bit into his leg or side, so I jumped off the bike and ran over to him. Turning on my helmet light I looked for a snake or something as he continued to jump around with his head searching and nipping at the invisible attacker. I couldn't find anything and he wouldn't sit still long enough for a proper searching. I finally managed to hold him still for a second then saw the perpetrators. Yellow Jackets. Three of them had attached themselves to his body and were stinging the crap out of him. After that he wasn't too excited for continuing back down the trail, so we bailed and headed for the house.

I am the master of the slotted disc.

It was for the best though as Mike had woken up and was heading over with his bike for a little wrench session. His EBB equipped frame has met with an unsavory demise after years of faithful service and his latest option has my favorite setup: horizontal track ends with a slotted disc mount. The sliders are nice and pretty issue free, but there is something simple about the slotted disc. Though they can be the most cumbersome if you let them.

Knowing I was probably the only idiot, er closest resident expert on slotted disc setups he brought the bike over for me to adjust. We had him rolling in no time. I even straightened and cleaned his warped rotor and adjusted the brake action. That's just how I roll. Truth of the matter is I am just happy he was able to get a replacement this late in the year (so close to 2011/Interbike rollouts = not a lot out in stock at the moment) and wanted to go over the bike to prevent any issues that might ruin the maiden ride.

I call him Juice.

Now we can all kid muscle Mike about being "on the juice." Now only if there were a donut or bacon labeled 29'er out there...

Face 0, Gravity 1

The swamp car helmet's demise is the only damage other than a scrape and a stiff neck.

Having survived the 25 minutes + 3 laps of the mud slug short track I decided to throw caution to the wind and head back out for the Cat 1 race at the Monkey Grinder. If 25 minutes plus 3 laps was leg searing pain, the 3 laps of the notoriously rugged MB race were body searing. What does a tree, a remnant of foundation, and a flat tire all have in common?

Visible result of a knee cap to tree at 20+ mph.

The answer: me. The start was called and we were off. I ended up 2nd into the woods behind the hammer that is Tim Baker. All was going well for the first 1/2 mile until I took a tight turn tighter than I should have and found a good sized tree hiding behind another decent sized tree. My knee cap took the full brunt and spun me into the other tree shoulder first. Everybody zoomed past as I wiped the blinding white light of pain out of my eyes and proceeded on once I realized the knee still functioned.

Back to the roots. 100% payback and local product prizes. 

I slowly got back into the groove and started catching back up to the race that was happening way off in front of me. My 15 minute spin around warm up really did absolutely nothing for my race prep. Note to self, leave earlier next time. As Adam and I made our way up Tommy's Revenge we came across a flatted and battered Dement. Having no tools or tubes his race was pretty much over but then again I wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. I had 2 tubes awesome strapped to my frame and gave him one along with my 2 co2 cartridges and nozzle. We joked about why us old guys were off the back beaten and bloody then made our way back into the race.

I passed a few of the remaining Cat 2 racers on my way to end lap 1. As lap 2 started my legs started to come around and I was feeling good, albeit a bit sketchy on the dry and loose soil. On the red trail and spinning at speed I suddenly felt the rear of my bike buck me and instantly my face was carving a face crater into the soft dirt edge of trail. No time to react to get my hands up, my face and forehead took the brunt until my right shoulder dug in and stopped my forward progress. I unsnapped my helmet and left it in the crater. I wandered around for what felt like forever until I got my wits back about me. Turned out my pedal had clipped the corner of the old building foundation the trail cuts through, only it was disguised as a harmless weed. Seems it claimed quite a few this week.

Swapping war stories while enjoying Tag's 5 star meat. 

I was about to call it a day when Adam rolled up and suggested we just ride it out. After checking over the bike, digging the mud clumps out of my helmet, then several more stops re-checking and letting a little air out of the front tire, we were off and "racing" again. Halfway through the lap I'd found my groove. Letting some of air out had my bike cornering more capably and I was driving forward hoping to maybe catch someone on the last lap. As lap 3 began I started to feel the buzz of my tire's knobs more than usual. Then the all too familiar squirm followed by the knocking of roots against the rim.

Since it was a pretty slow leak I opted to try to pump it up and ride on hoping to make it last the final 5.5 miles, but it wasn't to be and I ended up having to swap tubes. Without the benefit of co2 I spent some time pumping the mini-pump. Adam had caught back up and hung out. He bummed a water bottle and kept me entertained while I worked on the wheel. Then I asked how old Tim was and soon we realized the 3 up ahead of us were all 40+ and Adam and I were sitting 1-2 in the 30-39 class. Having to only beat a battered and weary 5th lap Adam (he'd won the SS class posting the 3rd fastest lap time of the day while doing so 60 seconds before starting the Cat1 race) luck, as they say, was starting to shine through my little dark cloud.

KRS and Eric hanging out after our race.

Well mostly. A weary and tired Adam is still one badass descender and staying ahead of the fool was proving to be harder than anticipated. Luckily the last few punchy climbs allowed me to set a safe gap ahead of him and post the win. Nothing like beating a guy who just smoked the SS class and would have beaten me if he'd not stopped to hang out during my gravity challenges. It felt like I was out there for  6 hours. Slowest and worst race luck I've had (I haven't hit the deck that much since air raid drills in 2nd grade) still netted me a 1st place. Such is the magic (and irony) of the Monkey Grinder. Lady luck and Miss Karma were definitely out to have fun with me yesterday.

Local Legend and one of my mentors, Stevie Mac.

Mean "5 lap" Joe all important and smart phoney.

Great job to all who raced. KRS rode strong and nabbed 3rd in the SS class, MJ (Adam) took the SS Win and finished a strong 2nd in the Cat 1 30-39 race right afterward. It was great getting to see everyone, too bad my glacially paced laps left me little time to hang out with the Cat 2's before they all headed home. All in all, it was still a grand time in the woods.

Thanks to MOAB and all the race sponsors/volunteers/racers. Special thanks out to Tag for saving us some of his grilled sausages. Next time I'll bring JD so he can hang out with Sierra.

Deja Dew

So if Coke had cocaine in the original recipe, does this mean moonshine was used for Dew?

The hottest day in the last 3 to 4 weeks greeted us as we prepped for the short track race to begin. It was hot made hotter thanks to the massive black top parking lot the course encompassed. Stifling really.

Mowerman: Uncle Stevie greets JD. 

Five minutes before the race was to start the skies grew dark. Clouds rolled in with thunder and lightening and then it came. A deluge of rain and wind dumped on all the participants within moments of the clouds rolling in. For 20 minutes people huddled underneath the only easy up while the rest of us already soaking wet stood behind the trunk of the big tree trying to hide from the cold wind and rain.

Initially I was stoked as I tend to do better in cold and wet vs hot and sweltery, but I was kinda bummed I'd not stuck to my original gearing. See in a moment of uncertainty I called Master Mid Pack Meat Dicky for a consultation on short track gearing. I'd set the bike up ready for mud but when I arrived it was dry and flattish, so I swapped to a taller gear. Then the rain came and had me wishing for a bit more spin. Lesson re-learned.

A clean bike is now a muddy bike.

JD greets the 'Dorfer.

It was a small turn out for the short track race, but most of the fun ones were around. 'Dorfer lined up with me, John Carr, DtheP, and I think one other person(?) in the Cat 1 race and we had some shovin' fun on the first lap. I led out the first 2 then got passed by DtheP and 'Dorfer only to come back around, clipping D's bars while doing so, and lead another lap. John and 'Dorfer eventually passed me and I dangled 8 to 10 seconds back for most of the rest of the race. Eventually I opted for the Jens Voigt "Shut up legs!" mantra and tried to close the gap to John. I was mostly successful each lap until the hard uphill left turn with the deep momentum eating mud. He was faster through that turn and would reclaim all the time I'd chased back each lap. Second was all I could muster, but given my summer so far I'm tickled to have not been fetal and puking.

Rockstar. 

The 'Dorfer has enjoyed a strong crit racing campaign this summer and is becoming quite the celebrity around the race scene.

Strike a pose. 

Famous people always have smart phones to their ears. Makes them smarter and famouser all the while still looking vogue. Here he's probably talking, surfing the web, twittering, and e-trading all from the comfort of his flip flops and Turkish bath towel skirt.

Another rabid fan.

He's so popular the poor guy can't even Twit and e-trade without some pretty lass rolling up and asking for her photo to be taken. He waved his normal nominal fee for this pretty young thing, but I think he was just trying to show off to the tifosi.

I'd wipe that cheek off with some strong antiseptic.

Next up the Cat 2's took off with the benefit of us having worked out the kinks in all the lines. Here Eric "Sandbaggin'" Boarman leads out the first lap on his skinny tired 29'er (also known as a Cross Bike).

JD waiting patiently for the most opportune time to take out Eric's front wheel.

I suspect this is a precursor to how the young Boarman is going to own cyclocross this year. Truth is he only looked good because Max didn't show up to properly hammer the boy. No, that'll have to wait until Fayetteville I reckon.

Eric "A Win is a Win" Boarman celebrates his big "W".

Where's Val?

Here she comes up the inertia slogging turn!

Valerie tearing it up.

New hoop done right.

Bath time.

Better. 

Deja vu, only this time Clairebear is casting a supervisory eye on my handy work. 

I think this says it more clearly than the original sticker.

The bike is all cleaned and prepped for tomorrow's XC race. I haven't race paced 30 miles in months, should be a fun few hours in the pain cave. I left the 2.10 Aspen on the rear for added mud clearance and enhanced traction over the old one, but put the root cushioning fat Aspen back up front. Cog is selected and ready to be brung. It's only midnight nineteen, most racers are still up dickering around with their muddy gear for tomorrow's race right? Doh!