Month: May 2007

Pre WOR stoke

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The Whiskey Offroad is this weekend, and I have been training pretty hard. My “normal” routine of spinning about 8hrs a week on the bike of pretty much whatever type of riding I feel like. On Beckie’s advice I have been making more long rides on a regular basis, and probably have had about a 4 hr ride at least once a month for like 6 months now. Been keeping a good log so its easy to check…yup 5 4 hr rides this year plus a coupla 3s (Quad Bypass, East Mesa Epic, 6 Shooter Canyon, 4 Peaks and Porcupine Rim).   I’m about 3lbs lighter woohoo finally shed the few lbs I have been stuck with and I think I can keep them off.   That the impetus to shed them was a 3-day case of ass-pissing from something I ate is not important, though I was down to like 142 during the worst of it.   Also stronger, and I got a fast fast rear tire on my bike for a change.   I asked Bill at Adventure “what would be faster than a Nevegal” and with a straight face he said “Everything.”   Last year I did 5:03 and cracking on the Skull Valley climb is what burned all my time. My training rides times have not been so good timewise on 4 Peaks and Saguaro Lake, there have been good reasons like weather for most of that, but I need to not let that get in my head. Hopefully I will be better this year with all the little improvements and tweaks.

The Blur was in the shop since Moab, and was ready today. Had a really good talk w. Bill about where I’m going w. the blur and about a 6/6 bike. The SC Heckler is for sure on my short list and definitely being able to buy from Adventure would be a selling point…we’ll see. Going to be doing some test rides next week, and found some hookups for a Titus MotoLite, an Ellsworth and a nice Turner. So Bill and I had a good talk there, and about one of his mechs who is a nice guy but sometimes too aggressive and ping-deaths me…its great when I can deal w. Bill I just tell him what I want, he tells me what I need, and I know I get a price that’s fair for both of us. I don’t ask, he just gives me the bill and I pay it.   Sucks that the shop is so hard to get to now, but everytime I get in a twist by that it seems I have a great experience there to keep me coming back.   Definitely that is better than starting fresh with a shop if I dont need to, cause all shops are going to piss you off at some point about something.

So brought the bike home, swapped some tires and tubage and went for a quick sprint down TRW wooooohoooooo it is riding fast.   Made it from home to the end of TRW in 18 minutes, that’s about 5 miles of singletrack…mmm mmm fast fast fast you go RickyBobby.   Stopped at the RMR pool for a quick swim and that was so so sweet, and now I may even watch Breaking Away like I need any more psych right now. Hope this weekend goes well.

Another awful trip to Home Depot

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i had errand to run, a dog to walk, i think I rode all morning so beckie was wanting some baby payback and mostly i hadnt seen my human all day…so we loaded us all into the car and went to the hardware store. I carefully waited til about 6, so we could leave kila in the car. I explicitly parked in shade, windows, water…dog was good that’s how we roll. After 5 min of getting no help from the orange-smock in the garden dept (and its usually not their fault, Home Depot hangs employees out to dry), I heard a page for the owner of a black acura 453SVG. yeah knew it some good samaritan reporting how my dog was suffering. meanwhile, I had about 3 things to get so figured…why not put G in the cart proper so she can move around but not get out. it was working really well, the track workout in HD for me and some pilates in the bin for her…i had my hand on her the whole time. next, onto the angle brackets. these took forever to find, trolling up and down the fasteners aisle. another orange smock, this one older and clearly from the midwest started yammering at me about babies in carts and how we had one just yesterday in here gosh. meanwhile, seeing me troll up and down the aisle, she blows off my asking for help. so i tell her yeah ok thanks, so angle brackets? take note, angle brackets were to attach G’s dresser to the wall so she could not pull it down on herself. anyway, G’s leaning out grabbing, i turn the cart and holy shit before i know it she plunges out of the cart.

well my heart stopped. literally. i have done some scary shit, some scary shit on a regular basis, but…what went through my mind was some jugular puncture, a bolt through the eyeball, a spinal fracutre. the thud when she hit the ground was evil, the most evil and hurtful thing i ever heard i swear. and then she cried, and then i looked her over and really she looked fine. no blood, no welling geyser, the baby just looked really really pissed off. i’ve hit my head, so i looked at her eyes, i watched her breath, i watched for convulsions. and she looked fine. i couldnt beleive it but she looked fine. the evil so-superior HD orange jersey wouldn’t back off…and at that point im like yeah i know i fucked up but i need to be close to see hear and feel my baby and know if she is ok, and i will know, and i did, and horrible as my irresponsibility was i knew she was fine. go away self righteous cunt and tell me where to finde angle brackets. and so we did, and so she was, and we got a toilet stopper too and it was good. and so was kila. and so was the park for the 3 or us. I am so going to ACE next time.

What the hell ya think I want, ya dumb muthafugga?!

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got home late the other night. from riding Windgate with Alex Rentzis and then watching league finals at Cap Basin. An excellent way to spend an evening. Rode Beckie’s Superlight, and found myself way to close to the bars, so I kept not recovering on the climb with too much weight up front and felt really sluggish steering on the downs. Still we had a good time and finished just at dark, a minor doinger going through Paradise Wash a rock reached up and grabbed me. Finals were good, Al’s team which seemingly should have been defeated long ago won, so there ya have it let’s hear it for the champs. I showed up in my jersey, to which JT and Stoli sassed me on my flamboyance, but when I revealed back pockets full of beer the compliments abounded at my ability to combine form and function.

Anyway, got home late and wasted. G woke up soon after, held her, did a pants-check, she kept crying…then she walked over and grabbed the legs of her high chair. She looked at me like “duh?! get with the plan? gimme sumptin ta eat!”. Wow. very clever baby. A friend of mine from high school Cindy Barr wrote a book on baby sign language, I haven’t gotten to read it but the idea is pretty cool. It seems pretty intuitive to me, from having dealt with Jo, Kila and the cats. They don’t talk, but say plenty if you know what to look for. G definitely sends clear signals, and they are not hard to see if you pay attention. I’m not sure how much more the communication would benefit from sign language, but I’ve got about 6 months to find out.

A big difference with the animals, however, is that they don’t have much to say. G definitely had more complicated things to say. Kila never wanted to bang on the keyboard; Jo wants to eat the keyboard, but G stopped doing that months ago; and Diego just wanted to sit on the keyboard. Genevieve knows that hitting the keyboard makes the monitor do stuff and makes cool noises. Kila gets hungy and just hangs out and looks needy, she never picks up her dish and bangs it. But G, stupid as she is, had more complex thoughts about the same things than the more mature animals do. Its a cool example of maturity vs. intelligence.

the drunk windtalking welder

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coming back from Moab we gassed up in Tuba City, and there were 3 dudes hanging out in the shade next to the back exit of the quickie mart. Its about 1pm, one of em starts giving my friend Stan the pitch for a handout, he actually brings up how his people were the windtalkers during ww2 and how much America owes them, Stan escapes and he turns on me…drunk, slurring, telling me he had recently been up in Colorado working as a welder for $32/hr, but now he’s back here and broke. And apparently making a full-time job out of panhandling people stopping for gas.

So let’s recap: the man has skills that pay some good wages, but not in the middle of nowhere Arizona where no one is building anything. He knows about money, and a job, and how hard work equals good salary. He knows good work for him involves travel. He chooses to return to Tuba City.

I’d like to ride like Lance Armstrong, but not train. I’d like to be rich, but not work. I’d like to have a job that completely maximizes my skills, but be able to work from home. I’d like to bang the hottest chicks in the world, but do no situps, buy no flowers, and put up with no attitude. At the risk or massively over-generalizing, I am so damn tired of hearing complaints from Tribes or tribe members about how hard they have it cause they can’t escape the poverty and hopelessnes of the res, but, YOU NEVER HEAR THEM SERIOUSLY CONSIDER MOVING!!! Everything is a trade-off. You live where you call home, you don’t have a fixed schedule, or sprawl or pollution, you live around people you know and are part of your community, you don’t have gang crime and high property taxes and traffic, or work-related stress, no one says how great those things are on the res? The res has problems, but it also has attractions for some. Why is it that trade-offs are common sense, but both Native Americans and everyone else seems to ignore commons sense when talking about the res? Its like our collective hard-on for the small American farmer who is no longer efficient or particularly good in his chosen field or able to survive without intrusive government assistance — we have this sentimental or guilt-laden or simply co-opted view of an issue and want to have everything at no cost. We want Native Americans to be able to live on the res, but have it be like Scottsdale.

White people just enable this sort of thinking by not making the discussion about economics, and instead suggesting that we need to help the Indians, that somehow the way they are perceived to be living is wrong and must be corrected. The windtalking welder knows this quite well, it laced his entire pitch. He didnt say “can I earn some money from you”, he said his people helped America 60 years ago so should get paid now, that he didnt have work because he was in Tuba City not that work was unavailable to him. The problems we see on the res go with the lifestyle. The Tribes (generally) have made it really clear that they like their location and will go to incredible lengths to preserve their locations, that their homes and their connection to the land is the most important thing to them, that they are a community and not a group of individuals. Clearly, the people who choose their connection to their tribe as their social identification (as opposed to an unencumbered free agent in a liberal democracy…or, your typical mainstream American) don’t want the lifestyle changes that are the cost of higher standards or living and cures for many of their res’s problems. So why is there such a liberal guilt about it, and why do we look at drunk windtalking welder and think this is a problem with the res? Its what it is, its the trade-off, it will work itself out, or it won’t. Trying to fix someone is just hubris. Who are you to say its wrong? Who are you to say it needs fixing? And why should I pay to fix it for someone who ignores the economic forces that are as crucial to my way of life as his connection with his home is to him?

Moab 07

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Fri-Sun we rode in Moab. This was my 6th trip, and 5th time on Al’s Moab Tour, 7th Al’s Tour alltogether. The group grows out of Phx ultimate frisbee, but over the years has connections with lots of other riders in the Valley, SLC, Boulder, etc. via work and people who moved. Lots of good people, and each year I see old friends and new. This was the first trip Beckie missed, which was too bad cause there were a lot of women and they were as forceful as the guys in setting the tone for the rides. Probably 35? people all together, about 10 women, which is a huge change from the normal 9:1 sausage fests. Its weird going to Moab so many times — I never tire of it or the trails, but now its like an old friend. My *wow* over Moab is different, but I still love going there every time. each trip has been special in its own way, but I didn’t take a lot of photos this time around.

Rode up Friday early with Stan Marks and Kevin Hatch. It worked out good to meet at Stan’s near 51 and 101, but like everything when you have different people in the carpool, it took awhile. Mellow ride up mostly, except for the most bizzare gas station incident ever. The shut-off valve on the pump didnt shut off, and gushed like 10 gallons of gas onto the parking lot. The “manager” gave us great shit about having to pay for it, threatening to call the cops when I threatened to contest the charge…he actually told us it was our fault since we did not pay attention to the sign that said not to leave pump unattended. Stan carefully noted that there was abosorbent all aroundt he pump, so clearly this was not the first time. Much finger-pointing, call to the owner, finally Kevin just paid the $15 difference and we got out of there. Still, gotta call the AZ dept of weights and measures and report that f*ing crook.

We got to Moab finally about 3:30, just in time to unpack for Slickrock. I committed this year to no-car-in-town, so hoofed it 2.5 miles up to the parking area. The weather was err 50-60 maybe and overcast. From the start I just felt good, not so much physically though the strength and wind were there, but the flow on the bike was smooth. I was descending fast (for me) and taking speed through turns really well. I could tell all the night rides on National and the other rides I’ve been doing with faster MTBR riders had helped a lot. I just flowed over the bumps descending, and it made the whole ride so much easier to have that boost going back up. Slickrock can get in your head cause you risk going otb but if you dont carry speed you go ot-seat on the uphills. Choosing the right gear is usually a nonstop angst-ridden nightmare of doubt and remorse. But really, none of that happened this time. I just flowed flowed flowed. Stood strong on the steeps and cleared everything but one, the nearly ungettable double-hump-out-of-sandy-wash taking the loop counter clockwise. I actually slid down the hill on that and got some nice burn to show for it. The weather was just a whisper of rain but windy and sand in the air, so lots of sliding out on the trail. Plus my shoes are getting so old there is like no rubber on the bottom anymore. Bloopers video would have been quite amusing for some of the slides, but we didn’t get too many. At the top of one hill early on, I found a super nice fleece hat and a compression headband someone had obviously dropped. Though I tried, no one claimed it, and it was a godsend cause I managed to forget all headgear for the weekend. Wore those things practically all weekend cause it was cold cold cold the whole time except the morning we left. About halfway through Slickrock, I lost my little gear on the rear. Rick later told me it was just my old-ass drive train, and that I should just get through the weekend and replace it. Which it was, and I did, and I did. Halfway through when we were just about at the Arches lookout about as far away as you can be, the wind picked up and I thought for sure we were gonna get dumped on, so I hammered from the far point of the ride all the way back and down to the condos. It was cool as I was alone for almost all of that, and that never happends on Slickrock. It was so worth it, made the social pace worth it to have some personal time as well. Hit 30+ on the descent back. Dinner at McFisters, then crashed knowing we would likely sleep in to let the weather clear.

Woke up at 8, saw it was raining, rolled over. Woke up at 9, repeated. Woke up about 10ish, got some coffee, and slowly motivated to do Sovereign trail. Sovereign is a neat 14 mile out-and-back, mostly singletrack, with a taste of everything Moab on the way. We did it about 3 years ago, but this time started from the other end…it was cool I mostly forgot the trail that way, so it was exciting and felt like a first time. The flow over the slickrock fields and in between the rocks was awesome, again I felt good carrying speed and carving turns. I mostly yo’yod at the front of the pack with John Roach riding his 6/6 Rocky Mount. Apparently this was his first ride on the bike, and first ride all season. He did great, and we had a good thing rolling. Couple other guys got in our little pack, and we had a blast tearing through the terrain. One spot I carved so hard the bike slid out – i put a foot down and saved myself, but was more scared about getting pounded by the fellas behind me then falling. Near miss, all was well, fortunately I had ridden with Justin and Sean the week before at Black Canyon Trail, so I was pretty comfortable with them by that time. Right after, near the end of the outward leg, I punched whole through my aging rear Weirwolf, which worked out good the pack caught us as I was changing it. At the far point on the out, a lot of our group got worried about weather and took the road back to the cars. Me and John said screw that we are here to ride, what’s an hour of rain?!? that moxie lasted about 15 min til we started missing lifts with the trail and our tires covered in red sand. The weather threatened and misted, and John and I agreed to hammer home and not much stop. Light bike, pride, competitive friendship…whatever, I dropped him quickly :p! Right about when the weather was making me grumpy, we ran into Guy and Karen, Aaron, Kathi and Ally, who all had started later from the other side. Was just the lift I needed, and we all played around on the trials up the one big climb for awhile. Guy is blast, just like snowboarding he’s a nut in his special way — man I like my friendship better with him now that we don’t play ultimate together anymore, likely he says the same thing. The weather cleared up a bit to where even the mist stopped, brake preservation was in order and actually worked out well by heading for the sand pits every time I needed to slow down. Again we had the trail mostly to ourselves woohoo. Bombing the last DH was great.

Kevin coming up the first climb\last DH

how I spent my time ahead of the pack

Back at our condos, the partying started early. Karen, Kathi and their friend Ally brought the Boulder ultimate tradition of carbombs to the party, and it was a huge hit. at least I think it was, I really lost track after the 3rd one. The Utah basketball game was on, so I didn’t have much idea about the extent of the drunkeness until Guy stumbled into our condo all sloppy blaming Freight Train (renamed Light Rail by Kathi during the carbome extravaganza). Maybe it was the rain driving everyone inside, but after a couple of carbombs it felt like being back in college. All of us crammed into one condo, loud as shit and sloppy drunk. There was broken stuff, there was vomitting, there was a subsequent nasty letter from the management. It was almost as good as our wedding, and best of all, I managed not to be the cause of any of it!

Amazingly, we managed to motivate for Porcupine Rim in time to get back for the start of the Suns game at 1:30. This year me and only Ray opted to ride the 10 miles to the trailhead, and it got plenty cold and dreary on the jeep road up. Around mile 8 with the trail getting slushy and the wind chill getting in my head, I had my doubts. the additional hour-long technical climb to the Castle Valley overlook really hurt, and I felt cold all over. but it was such a fun climb as always. snow patches were mixed in with spring wildflowers of red, yellow, purple and white. Some stuff I didnt try knowing I’d slip off in the wet sand, but mostly I just spun slow and cleared it all and had fun working my way up the hill. At the overlook, there were maybe 30 people at the top, a far cry from the hundreds you usually see there. So while we didnt stop long, and it was cold and muddy for the first 1000 feet down, the trail was virtually ours alone! My little group of 5 (John Roach, Al, Nick from Park City, and Greg ??) took full advantage and sailed down everything — I actually tried to avoid braking as much as possible to save my pads from the destructive sand. The little bit of jumping I’ve been slowly adding to the repetoire was a big help, and I really started wanting a bigger bike to launch off of things. We got in “the zone” like a few years ago when Matt Westfield, Alex, Beckie and I tore ass down this run. 5 miles of descent went by in no-time, we stopped when John had a little slide-out on the sandy rock, but were glad to give our hands a break. It was still cold, so after just few min we were off again and were past the Diving Board and onto the singletrack in maybe 45 min total. The single track was divine — John and Al a few hundred yards in front, Nick and Greg a few hundred behind, and no one else in sight! This never happens!!! It was total blast just focusing on the technical descent and the river 400 feet below and not worrying about running up on someone or someone riding my butt. I was able to be patient and let the lines appear before me instead of worry about crowds, a few things I went back and hit twice. I got in a great zone, just going with my flow, and nailed everything but the stuff that imo is unridable — the best run down that trail I’ve ever had!! Bad memories of my endo 2 years ago just faded away and I just was in the moment rolling through this incredible, beautiful trail.

We were far ahead of the group, and it was still cold. Al wanted to synch up, but I talked John into coming along as my part-time puller. He didnt take much persuading…Back just in time for the Suns game. More partying, more friends, virtually no blood or bruises the whole trip!!! A great weekend cant wait for next year when I hope to tack on 2 days in Fruita!!