It's all in the groove

Leave it to magical Thursdays to re-center it all. A sunny ride home on my bike and a night with my friends were exactly what I've been lacking (and I am lucky enough to have some of the best friends around). It's good to be home.

Joe made it back from Active Duty in time to enjoy the TapRoom.

Hannah and Joe sampling the Fat Tire on tap.

Sexpot always gets her way while 8Ball is still perfecting his game face.

Mellow Sharpie entertaining the H.

Perfect Hippie Commune Brunch morning. Good to have you home Joe. (Still can't believe there was cottage cheese in the pancakes, blehk, but tasty!)



More SSWC08 Moments:

The Rev was awarded the key of Texas. Texas USA.

The Nothing. Driving from Marin to San Fran.

3 Souls

Race Number Plate

Whaddayaknow, singlespeeds do grow on trees.

El Capitan Cannondale

Highly coveted Swiftwick Ole 12's

Fuzzy trying for the win, but Durango '09 it is.

To All The Fixers,

Yesterday's post was an admission of an embarrassing temper, not a complaint about driving. I love driving and I love my car. One part of the problem is my car isn't my car and it hasn't been for over a year and a half. It wasn't an issue at the old home because I wasn't dependent upon a car there and sharing it resolved many other issues. The other part of the problem is that I am now dependent upon that shared car and other people and I hate being dependent upon anyone other than myself (Hence my love of the self supported bike challenges).

The tipper, and what I woke up to yesterday, is that I'm never sure how I'm getting to work and home at any given time. How I get around is a bit like predicting the weather, never a far enough out view and an ever changing climate. That is the absolute core of my frustration. Getting to work and home should not have to be such an orchestrated ordeal.

At first glance, it would seem a motorcycle or another car would immediately resolve my issue, but it wouldn't. It would add to the frustration. Another payment, another insurance note, another vehicle's emissions to test, another vehicle to pay to repair, to maintain, to license, etc... Oil and gas. I don't want to pay for another vehicle that runs on dying technology, and batteries, in my eyes, aren't the future.

There is a park-n-ride lot about 5 miles from the house, I don't see it listed in the MTA routes, but I've sent in an inquiry. Hopefully it will be able to get me from the house to downtown Nashie and back, allowing me to depend upon my bike for the Nashie to Franklin portion. Vive le independence!

SSWC08 Moment: Downieville, CA


Rich had planned a fire road epic to a ridge line from his hell ride experience. Wayne from Yuba Expeditions put us on a more enlightened path. Our goal was the peak of Mt. Ellwell (just under 8k feet) and to ride some epic trails. Rich had the map and "led" the way. We jokingly refer to it as the "Dicky Downie Hell Hike" as we did a lot of walking on the way up. Not because of the grade (although many portions were steep enough to force us off the bike) but mostly due to the vast amount of rock present (quoth the gRant: "I am dead to rock"). Traction was great, that is until the rocks gave way underneath you and slid down the slope. So hiked we did. Rich and I were able to ride most of the final pitch to the top, as it became less shale pile and more earthen.


After climbing to the top of Ellwell and it's large boulder mass, we enjoyed a flowy fun descent that took us through tall forests and dusty, carving turns. Downieville was a dream. Looking back I wish we would have planned for one more day there. A bookending design would have been perfect. Thanks for the Downieville plan Rich, it was a highlight for sure.

photo cred: Bill the Eye (he takes spectacular photo perspectives)

Back to the Jar

I was rudely awakened out from my recent clock and duty free slumber by, to pilfer a term from Bill, life in the 'Jar'. I thought I'd caught it soon enough and jumped off of the interstate before getting trapped, but the side road was just as bad. Welcome home.


In my wide eyed wonderment of new experiences and adventures I'd totally forgotten how much my recent move has killed my commute. It's not so much the miles as it is the death of my time. I lost my patience. I cursed. Then 'Dear Prudence' came on the radio. I laughed at myself, at my childishness, at the irony. Hated myself for that moment of weakness and stupidity. I crept through traffic. Inching closer and closer to the 5 miles from work mark with 35 more to go. I started to lose it again, but stopped myself. No reason to fret, I have a book, and time. So I pulled over under a tree, breathed, and started reading. I read until it got dark, watching the sunset, I headed back out into the Jar for home.


I'll just have to get used to 12 hour plus days because I hate who I become when I don't.


SSWC moment of the day:

This image popped into my brain as I sat laughing at myself sitting in traffic. The Marin/Fairfax lanes were bumper to bumper as we rode across the ped lane. It was cold and windy. Sunny and hot in Marin, cold and cloudy in San Fran. We rode across twice. The wind was incredible. I saw Alcatraz and a helicopter. Seagulls and scared people. We wound our way down to the coast, below the bridge and into a cove that helped shield us from the wind. I felt vibrantly alive peddling across a bridge renowned for suicide. I don't think the weather could have been any better suited.

It's not about the number...

It's about beating Curtis (not really, but I did). It's about getting beat by Dicky. It's about tanking it and eating a face full of dirt at the finish line as you take one hand off the bars to receive the finisher idol and hitting one of the many holes dug into the dirt.


It's about meeting up with old friends and meeting new friends along the way. Pushing yourself, your limits, your comfort zone.


It's about enjoying the now. Living in the moment. Admiring the beauty.


It's about having fun.


Curtis delivered a fantastic course and an even better weekend. A rocky, technical, arduous course that was a blast each lap. I've never had so much fun racing with 400+ people stacking the course. Thanks for everything Curtis.

(More on the trip to follow later this week)

I am Jack's smirking revenge

Off to Napa.

(nohio started the Fight Club quotes)

5% left

Swiftwick weapons of choice.

Bags are packed. An REI Hobitat 4 person tent (purchased for substantially less than listed), thermarest, sleeping bag, towel, and mtb shoes shoved in one duffel. Bike tools, cogs, tubes, parts, platypus loaded into my Epic Designs frame bag. Hopefully it will stuff into the bike box along with JBDC, leaving me with just my North Face bag of clothes and helmet for carry on gear. Tomorrow (hopefully) the bike box will be in at Harpeth Bicycles and I'll be able to completely finish my packing and can relax before getting to the airport at 4am Weds.


I've never flown with my bike before, I've always driven. This is a new experience for me and I keep having nightmares I'll get midway through the flights and they'll tell me "sorry, no bikes" and I'll be stuck trying to figure out how to get my bike out to Napa while trying to still make my connection flight... think maybe I'll pack the flask.

Another weight on my mind is gearing. I've ridden with Curtis and know what bad asses he and Jeff are and they recommend 34x19 for us little wheel fellas. I've got 34x18 on currently, it's my gear of choice for most places and although there is the little voice in my head telling me to not be a dumbass and swap to the 19t cog, there's another voice in my head reminding me of what Cole told me at the pre-race meeting at Leadville: "Ride what you're used to". Those words haunt me still to this day. I chose poorly for Leadville (34x19) and was hating life. Wishing I'd heeded his words of wisdom and put the 18t back on. So, now the inner argument is do I heed Cole's wise words and the memory of my last Leadville run or do I heed Curtis's advice? If I don't am I just repeating my mistake by not listening to the wise words of those who know?

Of course it's only 3 gear inches... it'll give me something to ruminate over on the flight to keep my mind off of whether or not my bike made the trip. Yeah, maybe the flask will be necessary.

I'll be off the computer for a week, so if you're like me and get bored staring at the Tomato site waiting for images that never appear, click over and read Epic Eric's site. Amazing stuff.

Good luck and safe travels along the Lost Coast Eric and Dylan.

Chip Free

Me and 8Ball practicing the "game face" out on the trail Sunday, 8Ball's needs a bit more work.


Actually, that's no game face, that's the look of flust-ration. If I had legs I had no lungs, if I had lungs I had no legs, if I had handling I had no speed, if I had speed I had no handling. ARGH!

Saturday, Mike and I did some hot laps at top speed around Lock 4 while the gals rocked the trail together (Hannah's first time clipped in). The legs felt great, the lungs seared, my abs on the verge of cramping.... ugh. Either I just suck or I just suck at going fast. All was not lost, I got to work on my high speed cornering and glancing off of trees and witness Mike tearing it up on "Celine" and becoming very hard to catch. Lucky for me there has been a rock or two around to slow him down.


Sunday Mike and I headed North to meet up with White Bros Keith (while the gals headed South to ride trail) and ripped it up on a brand new to me trail. It was killer!! I can't believe I've never ridden there before now. Well, actually I'm glad. It's rare to discover a gem of a trail so close to home that you've never ridden before. I'll definitely be back. I can not believe the varied terrain in such a short span. It has parts of all my local favs, plus some Bent Creek-ness, some Bear Creek-ness, and a pinch of Sewanee all condensed into a tight little epic feeling package with a swimming hole. That's 2 for 2 post ride swims this weekend and 2 for 2 off road rides for the girls. As 8ball would say "Hell Yeah!"

Preparation H

Waiting in line to wash up in the wash room last night at the Yazoo Tap Room I had a bad 80's commercial moment. Remember the "Two Great Tastes that Taste Great Together" commercials? Well check it, two great beers (and beer teams) that go well together:

I always thought that wheat chewin', banjo pickin' turtle looked a lot like Mr. Stanley. But now I see it resembles Mr. D even more (think it's the hat).


I've got Johnny Black Death Cash (aka Yersinia Pestis) prepped and ready to be torn down, stuffed into a box, and tossed around by he-man luggage (man)handlers. Hopefully to not be lost in transit, dropped from the skies, or mistakenly chosen and raced by Mr. Birtch.


I'll be running the supa-fast and supa-fly Hodge laced race wheels. These wheels will pretty much guarantee that it will rain, the course will be muddy, and I'll have a better chance at being better placed in the pack fodder. (It's rained pretty much before, during, or just after every race I've done on these wheels).


Some more viewer mail:

Big Daddy Squirrel pulled out the year books of yesteryear and dug up my 2nd Grade photo. This is the year before I had to get my glasses, so I was still incredibly cute and adorable. It all went downhill from there...

Pain Train - make that Train Wreck

Headed to Kentucky for a little 64 that turned into a 55 miler : 38 miles off-road, 17 on-road due to some unfortunate technical difficulties. Yep, we put the epic back in pathetic.

The North/South trail was the designated playground for the day. An out and back offering a ripping 64 miles of roller coaster singletrack. The trail was in immaculate shape, though hot the humidity was down and no where near the death march cooker last time. I'm finding my trail eyes again after a long year of long haul gravel grinders. 8-ball was showing signs of improvement too, his set-up on the Zion offers him a bit more zip in my opinion. His wheel was hard to hold onto in some sections. My new meats were hooking up really well despite the loose rock on hardpack, inspiring me to push the corners brakes be damned, leading to one overcooked turn and a walk-out endo: A root stopped the bike cold, I stepped over the bars and as the bike continued its rotation, the saddle came up and knocked me on the back of the head as I stood up. Flawless execution.

Since 8Ball rides a 29'er and I still prefer my 26'er, I enjoy quizzing him as we ride. We're evenly matched in speed and skill, so as we zip over choppy roots I ask "How's that feel on the 29'er?" To which he responds "Like choppy roots". Then as we slog through the sandy sections "How's that feel on the 29'er?" "Like sloggin' through sand." As he endo's over a root that stops his wheel cold "How's that feel?"

I rode his Zion around a bit the other day, it still feels like I'm up in the air on a road bike. Eastbound Jeff brought me a disc 29'er wheel to try out on my 1x1. I threw it in and spun around the yard. For the first time I felt instantly comfortable on a 29'er wheel. Maybe it's the 438mm a/c 38mm off-set fork with the 71degree head tube angle combined with a short chain stay and 26" rear wheel, or maybe it's simply because it's my bike and it felt like my bike only with a heavier front wheel. Who knows, but I'm going to have some fun playing around with the setup on some local trails.


Fresh off bending a Niner, 8ball was ready to test his new indestructible 29'er (I think his stem's too short):


Anyone seen my cog ring? Don't let his innocent, happy go lucky charms fool you, he's a monster on the bike and, according to an anonymous source in Kansas, into some pretty freaky stuff (word on the street anyway):


Keith's Niner needs more white (right Snowball?):


Keith can't keep his hands off Eastbound Jeff's Lynskey (apparently Jeff can't either, he's wiping off dust again):


This carnage:


Led to 17 miles of pavement spin spin spinning 34x18:

Loaded up and heading home, already dreaming of the next adventure.