Post R&R Creaks and Cracks

No wonder JD's water bottle holder was behaving a little looser than Mr. Short and Shallow's morals.

Occasionally during the ripping roller coaster singletrack riding taking place this past weekend, weird "fingers rubbing Styrofoam" creeks emanated up from below. It sounded almost like a bad bushing. Being that I ride a rigid singlespeed, my bushings (none) shouldn't be bad. Since the sound would come and go and nothing seemed amiss function-wise, I just rolled on enjoying the dirt-coaster.

Achtung: Severe testicular trauma may occur.

Day 2, ride 3 of the weekend, the erratic styrofoam creak would return and I began to suspect my saddle having recalled a particularly poor re-mounting during the last cyclocross weekend and a funny noise associated. While stopped on the beach for JD to get some water, I looked under the hood and found the second culprit of noise: a busted Selle Italia Flite shell. Perchance if someone had a non-railed coverless Flite laying around I could swap over the good cover and rails, but why on Earth would someone keep a thing like that laying around?


Another creak (that really is more of a popping) I investigated last night was coming from the head tube area of the Rigor. Twisting the bars sounded like a folly artists rendition of an old rusty hinged castle door being opened. Several head tube gate conspiracy believers have been telling me for a while that I needed to have it faced. But the noise is new and has only happened recently with the aluminum steerer tubed Rock Solid and never with my steel steerer tubed Vicious. I've been putting it off for a while thinking I'd make a call to schedule a time to get it faced, starting to believe the conspiracy freaks. After it being pronouncedly worse riding around the barn last night, I decided to tear into it and take a look.

This isn't Kanza anymore: The real reason Sister's Summit is missing from DSG this year.

That is what DSG dirt looks like. I know some of you have never seen it in it's non-mud outfit before. I pulled the headset apart, cleaned, and re-greased it. I also had to steel wool some off some funk from my corrosive sweat. But the dirt and grit wasn't the real creak/pop culprit, my corrosive sweat was:

That's nasty, Wyatt. That's Chet, Gary.

A little knife edge scraping, some CLR, and a lot of steel wool work and the crud came off. Despite finding evidence of things to make you go creak/pop, I figured the noise would still be present when everything was put back together. That the conspiracy theorists were right and that it would be silent until the final torquing of the last bolt, just to tease me.

"You are supreme the chicks'll cream for Pledged Lightning!"

But it's silent once again with butter smooth bearings. The rest of the bike got a bath and a new coating of Pledge. Remember kids, a clean bike is a fast bike.

The Angry Hour is...

not always about me.

Today's Angry Hour greeted us not only with sun, but with a temp of 56 degrees. I love spring. Dish has been angry and hurt since Friday when he saw me packing. He got even more pissed and angrier Saturday morning when he returned from a trip in the truck with mom to find me and the puppy loaded and leaving.

He rarely joins Monkey and me for Angry Hour deciding rather to hang with mom at the barn doing barn things. Today he was not about to be left out. Having only 3 legs and getting up there in years, he's been slowing down. My old 25+ miler, all day epic riding partner has been out of commission since losing his leg, but he still loves to try to go along. He's good for a few miles but ends up paying dearly for it the days afterward. I figured he'd do a lap then head back to the barn per his usual routine. Imagine my surprise when JD and I were racing down the downhill trying to drop one another only to have Dish come charging up from behind!


He hung around for another couple laps then I rewarded him with his ultimate favorite past time - barking at me while chasing rocks in the water. Angry Hour started because I needed a way to include the Monkey so as to get him exercise and attention during time constrained work weeks to help stave off the boredom that was driving him to cross the dog killing road. It's always been about exercising the dogs, the fact that I get to ride and play too is just icing.


Angry Hour is the perfect start to the work week. I'm glad we included Dish today taking it easy and playing in the water. A final 2 up and downhill races then we headed in so I could get ready for work. The best part for me was I finally made the steep gnarly climb out from the creek. Even geared taller than normal. As Hagan would say "I did it!"

Rearwee? Yup, rearwee.

Taking the Fun back from Funeral

JD's lake break.

Weeks of grieving and travel have finally give way to a perfect spring weekend filled with camping, riding, more riding, and a little riding. OldGreg, Parker, Mad Max, Monkey, and I headed up to Land Between the Lakes Saturday for a weekend away. The plan was to just chill out and get as much riding in as we could bear.

Monkey has been jumping the fence and venturing out across the interstate traffic level road out front, not good. He's also been cooped up with all the traveling and funerals we've had of late. I've not gotten to ride much and with all the hotel, gas, food, and other associated expenses of the recent rash of travel, I decided $100 for a race I've done almost 12 times before wasn't the best use of my money. Nor was leaving the Monkey cooped up at home. So we were going to take the 8 month old out and see how far he could go. We still don't know that, he's a machine.

The rule was ~20 miles to start at puppy pace. The plan was to let him lead and us just follow his pace. Well, JD is more MLM that I'll ever be. From the gun he pinned it and it was shortly pointed out that JD doesn't believe in "warming up". We turned around at mile 10ish to give us our 20 with the pup and dropped him back at camp while the rest of us headed out for more.

By the time we made the North Welcome Center, Max and off the couch oldGreg were ready to head back, especially with the planned night ride looming over head. Parker and I pressed on to get a lap of the Canal loop in and back to camp before sunset. I've never had more fun on the Canal Loop. It was an amusement park for mountain bikes. Perfect conditions and the 2.55 WWLT was much appreciated with it's rooty nature.

The boys waiting for JD to get a drink.

The North/South trail was no slouch either, a few peanut butter covered in deep leaves sections but the rest flowed like beer at the taproom. I love the WWLT. It keeps momentum, hooks up in turns, sheds well, and offers tons of cush.

We cleaned up after 35ish miles for the day and headed to Miss Scarletts for some grub, said our goodbyes to Parker, then headed back to camp. After starting a pitiful fire, only to re-stack and restart, this time with kindling, we had our fire. Max never having been mtb-ing before today also hadn't experienced a night trail ride either. So we suited up and headed out for an 8ish mile jaunt along the N/S trail.

I let him lead so he could experience the full effect of night riding but he soon tired on a long hill and told me to pass. I hammered on looking for a prime location to douse the lights and hide in the woods. I waited in a perfect location to drop down on him. And waited. And waited. No lights were visible. I whistled. No answer. Whistled again. Nothing. I hollered "Max!". Nada. Great he's crashed and knocked himself out. Again "Max!". Finally I hear "I got a flat". A few seconds pondering whether to keep with the scare plan or go help him. Crap he has tubeless and probably needs help, so I roll back to find him.

He was jogging with his bike, looking forward then backwards, expecting me to jump out at him. Heh, scared him without having to scare him. Then we set about fixing his flat. This was the first Rolholf hub I've ever dealt with, luckily Max knew about the added step. Then I got to have fun opening the slimey nastiness of a tire and search for the tear/thorn. Yuck, I hate tubeless. Yes it works well when it's working well. Just like a damn tube, only when it fails you get to pull out slimy rim strips and valve stems, whereas the tube just pops out and a new one goes in. No mess. But I digress.

Nothing was found and no hole/rip/tear seen. I asked him what noise it made and he said it just kinda went flat. I'd seen him root surfing the rear a few times and figured he'd rolled it and burped out the air, so we opted to save the tube and just hit it with CO2. Luckily it popped into place and held air. The new Mavic tubeless rims are pretty sweet. Then rode back to camp to warm up. Max attacking and trying to out sprint me the whole way. Trying. Heh.

Gorgeous weather was on hand all weekend long. Finally.

Back at camp we chilled by the fire faithfully stoked and fed by OldGreg and JD until retiring for the night. Crystal clear skies and a near vacant camp site offered exquisite sleeping accommodations.

A fellow Marsupial crashed our camp.

Perky

Morning seemed to come quickly. JD had slept completely through the night keeping my feet toasty warm in the sleeping bag and didn't stir until 6am. Coffee and breakfast were started. Max re-ignited the fire and oldGreg found wood to keep it going until we were ready to ride.

We headed out for another 15ish miles in the morning. Thinking JD might be a little sore from yesterdays 9mph average 20ish mile jaunt we planned to ride easy. JD was having none of that. He was all MLM today and took off. It was like a bmx start when I released him from the leash. It was all I had to keep him within a bike length or two for the first several miles. Even after 10 miles he was still hammering off the front with me giving it my all to reel him in. He made yesterday feel like a stroll compared to today's pace. But it wasn't without a price.

Monkey sleeping, he'd punch Max with that foot several times on the way home.

He slept the entire way home! He didn't even stir but to move his head when we stopped for food too. Out like a light. Or should I say out like a Max?


We'll see who hurts more tomorrow for our angry hour workout. I'm betting me.

12 Monthly Visit from Aunt Slow

Gimme a brake...

Mucho bettero. Beefy!

All set for another 12 months! Now for a few runs down Seedtick to burn in the pads.

Nothing but Bike Hickeys

You waitin' on me?

Every morning should start off with a mountain bike ride. I often dream about living and working in Grand Rivers KY or Monteagle TN. Somewhere where I can ride epic trails from home, before and after work without a long car ride. It'd be ideal to have a 32 mile singletrack ride as your work commute, wouldn't it? Too bad jobs in such locales are hard to come by, course McMansionvilles and busy unsafe streets would impose on the open lands.

A short break along Lake Sleestak, blue sky reflecting.

Though not quite 32 miles or an IMBA epic, I'm pretty content with the Monkey Pit. A couple weeks back when I started riding it in the mornings I was getting 6 laps in about 45 minutes. This morning I was able to rail 6 in 35 minutes. It was such a good workout even the Monkey returned to the barn with his tongue hanging out. Normally it seems to just wind him up more, but today I had him working to keep up on the downs and to keep from getting rolled over on the flats. Monkey Creek offers him a chance to hydrate each lap and the newer trail sections are starting to burn in nicely from our rides and several new runs have been marked for clearing. I cut a new ending to one downhill to add in a nice rock drop at the bottom and re-routed a sharp left hand turn to allow a better line up the mossy rocks into the cedars. The playground is coming along nicely.


Working on the MLM plan, I found the limit to the WWLT on one of the swoopy downhill turns in the damp leaf covered loam this morning. I let a psshhhhh psssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh of air out of it and never had an issue afterward (well there was an issue with way too much speed and a small sapling, but that arm scratch has kept me smiling all day, it's like a bike hickey). I'm still probably running ~30ish psi in it despite letting air out each ride, but it feels plenty soft while riding yet still keeps the sidewall from squirming, even on rather narrow rims. A real test for the tire will come this weekend. I can't wait.

My New Obsession: To Inner Peace or Not?

Quit dancing around like a Dicky and get out there and hurt him! - turkish

Life has been having a good time piker punching me lately. Just when I think the round is over, a jab here, kidney punch there, upper cut, and kablammo, but I'm too stubborn to stay down. To counter all the sadness, sorrow, worry, and strife I've garnered a new obsession: tires. Big, fat corner chewing tires with rounded profiles and small knobs that seem to hook up where ever I may roam. How wide can I go? How low can I go? Kenda Slant 6? Maybe some Vulpines? Can I get a WWLT bigger than 2.55??

The other obsession is whether to inner-peace or not inner-peace. Does the 760g "race" tire have a paper thin sidewall that won't resist flats as well as the 790g Team FreeRide tire's nylon lined inner-peace sidewall? Or is it more for smashing into rocks style pinch flat protection? Is the added 30g worth the peace of mind?

With all my time going to work, friends and loved ones in need, traveling, hospitals, funeral homes, there's not been much saddle me time at all. So far all my early season goals for myself have been passed over for gas station food, fried things, Midwest comfort food, and exhaustion. So, in light of lost time and new obsessions comes a new goal: MLM.

Having long admired nice guys such as Dave Wiens and trying to model my training off of articles they've written and interviews I've read I decided 2010 is coming in like a big Mofo and as such, deserves to be ridden like one too. Enter my "More Like Mark" training plan.

Heavy bike, anger rides, hell rides, one front ring. During average work weeks I'll get 2 angry hour sessions before work during the week. I've had an hour of anger so far this week with hopes for another hour tomorrow morning with the Monkey in the Monkey Pit (my new term of endearment for the back trails ala the Peacock Pit). This is where I've been learning to fully commit to the corners and let'er go through the rocky downs, my own personal training and tire testing ground.

photo from wtb.com

There's also a nice spot in the bottom I'm daydreaming about putting a pump track. The horses don't go down there and it'd be a nice fit between trail systems (Monkey Pit and Lilly Berm (she liked to collapse my berms)). I just need to find the time. Hoping as the daylight lengthens I can get out after work some, but that also means mowing will return, there's fencing to be done, closet and shed cleaning, and trail work/maintenance in the back, along with regional area trails and that training stuff I should be doing. Oh yeah, and a work schedule that likes to keep me away from home. Good problems to have I reckon. I mean I could be cooped up in some urban area with no personal playground and not collecting a check like last year. Yea, these are life's good problems.

The only bad problem with all these good problems is no H. time. She's picked up 6 weeks or so of overtime to help us catch up on bills. My overtime is unpaid and in high demand of late. Since she gets compensated for hers, she's digging in to help the bottom line. Though knowing her, as long as I'm out near the barn she'll not complain too much. Another motivator to get the Monkey Pit trails and pump track up and running. Less training time away from the homestead.

Weir for art though WeirWolf LT Inner-Peace?

Though none of this helps to ease my obsession. Even at work today whilst trying to stay awake and focused on the endlessly repeating mass casualty studies going on, I'm using down time to search out info on the Weirwolf LT and it's namesake. Trying to decipher what's real and what's red koolaid or just urban myth. Searching for the elusive inner-peace version is proving fruitless. Another plus for the "race" version? Or is the lack of availability a plus for the inner-peace version? So many questions, so many hours locked in a dark lab.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow morning more dirt time with the test tread.

Playing with Ketchup

Off to the Epic Designs Laboratory

For a Monday, it's been pretty good so far. After a long day in the car traveling home to sunny skies, clouds and cold greeted us this morning. Not to be disheartened, the Monkey and I headed out for an hour mtb ride on the trails after breakfast. We managed to squeak an hour of dirt riding fun in before work. An hour desperately needed after the long weekend being cooped up in the car.

Tonight has been all about following up with emails left in the inbox, items to be shipped/mailed/ returned, stuff done around the house, and trying to get the financials in order. A highlight of playing ketchup was getting my Epic Designs custom bag form and pattern ready for mailing. My new ED XC race frame bag of doom is going to rock.

While preparing to pay bills, I commented to H. how I've never been so happy being so poor. Then I made my way through the bills (and most of my monthly income). Easy come, easy go. I'm much happier still, being friend rich and money poor.