Day: February 9, 2008

Creepy Cheerleading

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so we’re at the Suns game the other day in the fabulous 12th row Cox Communications seats. it was a great game won in the final seconds, a great evening with babysitter and beer, and an all-around fabulous time. including the view of the strippers…er…cheerleaders. Not only were we close enough to enjoy the routines in all their neckline-plunging, hair-waving, ass-shaking goodness. but during some of the mingle-with-the-crowd moments the ladies were up close in our aisle. It was awesome! like when the guy next to you orders a table dance.

the professional cheerleaders pretty much don’t even try to hide that they are nearly soft-core porn. and i have no problem with any of it, and not just cause its hot.   they’re having fun, making money, and are in great shape…everyone understands that they are to be gawked at and leered while dolled up during the game, but you would never say or look at the same woman out of her uniform that way, and you don’t even say shit like you would watching a lap dancer you just keep it to yourself and smile and yell “GO IGGLES!!!!”…its all good. but denying its all about the sex is ignorant. Case in point, i noticed when the dancers were near us that they were wearing thick sheer stockings, the idea being it makes your lines smooth and ripped looking, like airbrushing a photo. Hooters waitresses do the same thing, except the stockings get spotted with wing sauce and blue cheese dressing, making the girl look like she has some sort of malignant growth or freakish jungle-like dengue fever. but on the Suns dancers it made them look just that much sexier. Beckie didn’t quite believe me as to the “airbrushing” effect it had, so i pointed her to look at the dancer’s lower back which was uncovered. You could see all the natural blemishes and creases of the human body. None of which would give a dude a moment’s pause while he was knocking the bottom out of her, bent over on Jerry Colangelo’s seat. the point being, the pro cheerleaders are all about titilation.

then at halftime they had some community dance troupes and whatnot. sure cool whatever; Byron always talks about getting to do an Ultimate exhibition at halftime of a Cardinals game; so the scout squad gets to do their thing…sounds like fun, after the initial halftime rush we will get more beer. i’ve been drinking for several hours now starting with when Rick and I were working on Beckie’s bike again, and then on the ride to the game, and then with my 1st-half Giant $8 Bud Light. and i’m checking out the titty action on the floor, but something is wrong. When we first walked into the game i turned and giggled to B about how incredibly huge the players were and how amazingly noticeable it was from the 12th row. and now suddenly i turned and wailed to her about how incredibly tiny and un-tittied these dancers were. ICK i was staring at like 10 year olds. It wasn’t my fault, they were dressed exactly like the Suns girls, and at that point it really wasnt about what I actually saw as much as about what I thought myself to be seeing, which was a really hot aerobics-instructor type with auburn hair.

ICK. this whole thing was just wrong.

its not that girls are cheerleading that bothers me.   i’m the last person to criticize anyone who wants to be athletic and part of a team, its a sport for girls like gymnastics and if they get to be popular too what is wrong with that? at that age the uniforms are cute, but its more about the sport and the routines and the pyramids. the sexual aspect is so PG its appropriate. no one learns all about the power and dynamics of sex all at once, it takes years to sort all that shit out, an easy introduction is healthy. High school cheerleading is not professional cheerleading; sports dancing is more like pole dancing; the pom-poms and big sweaty guys are the only thing they have in common. Them all wearing the same outfits…ICK.

I hope G just plays soccer. or Ultimate.

Another Canal Ride

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this day was going to be a group activity, since Beckie is heading out of town for a few days. she needed to do a 2 hr run, i needed to do a 2 hr ride, we needed t.Human time… SOLUTION: the canals. she went her loop down Power, i refused to take G down something the roadie hits 43 w. no bike lane, so went down Thomas to the Higley entrance…fantastic. we met at Granite Reef. it was like that scene from that movie that is iconic but which i do not know the name, and which has been mocked in countless movies thereafter. i best remember the satiric version from Airplane! where Ted Someone and Julie Someone ran in slomo and then humped on the beach. the point being: G went all From Here To Eternity??? on Beckie. but was still strapped into the trailer, and was being greeted by Kila. it went horribly wrong from there…

G freaked, Kila was hot and ran towards the river, Beckie followed, the bike got stuck. really, it was only the crying that made it at all a problem…we turned back West towards Higley and G fell asleep. at Higley, Beckie was at 7 miles and the dog was looking like she need to stop at 10 and not 14. Beckie knew about an entrance to the canal itself right off the road, of which i did not know, and she took Kila there to cool off, and it is cool when after all this time living here she points out some feature that i do not know. So the plan became Beckie and Kile would head home, Beckie would finish her run, then meet me and G as we were finishing our ride at the park whilst bearing beers and warm clothing. and off we went.

G got sad, but then enjoyed the canal and the oranges and the horses and the ducks. and we chatted and went neigh neigh neigh and quack quack quack. there is one gate i had to cross where the path is right on the edge of the canal, and i *think* G said something to the effect of “fall.” But maybe i was just nervous.   We went to Gilbert Rd and back.   She enjoyed the tunnel, she enjoyed the horses, she said she wanted to get out and was cold.

ME: we’re about 15 minutes to the park

G: wanna get out

ME: do you want your jacket

G: yuh

ME: do you want your hat

G: yuh

ME: can you make it for 10 more minutes?

G: ok

and then i rode on, and looked back, and she had put on her hat. then back up Thomas to the park.!!! 2 hrs and 18 miles. then Beckie met us at the park, with beer, and warm clothes.

Trimming Bangs

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hopefully this horrible experience perpetuated at the hands of Daddy and Mommy will permanently scar G towards beauty school and drive her into engineering and sciences.

but at least she can see now.

i will, however, continue to find her cuter in her impish phase.

Area 52

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last Sunday i followed SunDog (Louis) out through Area 52. Its a volcanic mesa near the Gila River bed, just outside of Florence. Left about 6:45 for an 8am meet.

this is the mesa we will ride on, seen from Florence.

Area 52 is a freeride zone. There aren’t trails to speak of, just routes that SunDog has plotted. I’d seen tons of pictures on mtbr, and it looked worth checking out. i had pretty much no idea what i was getting myself into. some jumping, some rockface, some hiking, some plants on the trail…nothing i hadn’t seen before. or so i thought. the first clue i should have had that this was going to be a a whole ‘nother ballgame was when i decided it would be a good idea to wear my old army pants over my pads. I fully expected to be the worst rider to show, but hoped to just hide in the group and use my fitness to keep up with the pace even if i planned to bow out of some of the gnarliness.

Area 52

along the Gila River valley

Rule #1 when you are the worst rider: be fast when you can so the group isn’t always waiting for your slow ass. piss as soon as people stop for a break, leave first, have your stuff working, and in my case — climb well. So I was early for our meeting, and had my shit pretty well together. We met just outside of Florence, so I could follow the group down ~40 minutes of dirt roads. It turned out a few people flaked so it was just Sundog and I. which was cool, but from the start i kinda felt like his baggage. and my plan to keep up at all the non-riding times immediately was put into jeopardy when i realized Louis drives fast as shit even on the dirt roads leading to the trail head. Great…not even out of the car and i am already getting dropped! about 10 minutes of the trip was through a wash, and i was in 4WD High 5th gear just trying to keep up. it dialed me in. Which was good, as Louis is a pretty accomplished freerider and i can barely land a 3 ft . drop.

we saddled up, and began a mild climb to the base area of the mesa, where we could get loosened up on some of the many pump lines and get a feel for the terrain. a gross oversimplification would be to call Area 52 slickrock. its largely unulating rock faces, but onlike the stuff in Moab which is very solid and intact, this is extremely eroded and fractured. the lips of the undulations ended sharply, there was volcanic gravel on top of much of it, and plants growing out of every crevice. and of course these were only hardy desert plants that could grow on a rock face — teddy bear and buckhorn cholla, hot bushes, spiky palo verde, barrel cactus. everything horrible with none of the grasses or sage to break it up. lines and routes were surprisingly busy to maneuver through, even though the tires gripped all the bed rock quite well. A common move on the steeps up Slickrock is to turn the climb into a switchback to ease the grade. Here, that put your tires sideways in the gravel, or led you into something with thorns, or was simply impossible as the undulations were so extreme anad cracked. the cracks were often deep and had difficult transitions, and the smooth passages collected the debris and made the best growing medium for the plants. it was completely unforgiving terrain, and i was instantly glad of my wardrobe selection.

all this was just perfect for Louis. As I had gathered from his posts on MTBR, he lives for this type of riding. Despite spending 4 hours alone with the man, I didn’t get to know much about his life, but i did get to know him quite well. our conversation never stopped, but it was all about the ride and the terrain and technique and lines. Louis led most of the conversation — it wasn’t one-sided, just that his passion and enthusiasm for what he was doing had him completely absorbed in it. i enjoyed it immensely. its not like i knew shit about what we were doing or which rock ledge led to a safe passage through this wicked garden, so much like the ride, i just sat back and followed and enjoyed being led by someone who knew what they were doing. Giving up being in charge is quite refreshing, and worst case it would come to a welcome conslusion at 1pm so we could head home for the Superbowl. i was so out of my element, that by the end i had completely equal parts of both feelings.

Louis scouting the next line

Louis realized from my email and my riding that my jumping skills were not very good. he talked me into a couple drops in the play zone near the bottom, i think to evaluate where he was going to lead me as much as anything else. it was really the mark of an experienced and generous riding partner that he would do that, and i’m glad to say i do the same thing when deciding on trails with people i don’t know very well. right from the start we dropped off a big rock that had a slight decline before the drop. while i landed each of the 3-4 footers, none of them felt smooth and my confidence was eroding with each try. i felt myself locking up and wanting to just watch and follow. but he put me through some easier reps, and coached me on a few key points. keep your head up, gently pump the suspension and let go at the drop instead of bunny hopping up and through it, and DO NOT brake when you land. i kept trying to repeat all the steps in my head, along with going left foot forward, and it was hard to put it all together while fighting the urge to piss my pants. After 20 or so small drops including a few in sequence, i did start to get the rhythm down and ride without thinking. all but the left-foot forward; Louis said it was so if you needed to manual and push off something, you wouldn’t overcompensate with your stronger foot. but it just did not feel right. i snowboard with my right in back, and it feels so much more natural than going goofy.

this day reminded me of snowboarding in more ways than one. I knew i was already steeply into a learning curve, so there were going to be some awkward moments and some things i should simply not try, and the best thing to do was to take them all in stride and just have fun. which worked pretty well, except we spent most of the day on the blacks and only the beginning and end of the ride on the blues. It was also, like boarding, a full body experience. there was so much walking the bike up and down and using my hands, and scouting out lines and routes to the next section, it felt more like a bike-oriented hike than a ride. i learned great new ways to carry the Heckler, and the curved part of the chainstay makes for an excellent ergonomic handle.

but the pace provided plenty of opportunity to see the surroundings. standing on the cliff at the top of the mesa, i could see the Superstions, Four Peaks, the McDowells, Camelback and at the far end of the line what I just made out to be Squaw Peak.

bird’s nest burried in a little bush

view of the Gila River

Louis showed me some of the notable trials and lines they had plotted through the area. We sailed down a long smooth drainage with a steep drop-in (i skipped that part), that felt like a luge course through the rock field. after climbing back up, we continued to work our way across more bowls and ridgelines with exposure and steeps. another bowl had a near-vertical drop in and natural bank up the far side – i skipped that one too, but did manage to take it on a slightly esier line. One large crevice through a third bowl Louis called the rockgina, and we hit a 3-4 foot drop that came down right next to it. i surprised both of us by finindg my balls for that one. But mostly i gave up on the jumping at that point. All the pushing and exploring broke whatever rhythm i developed down in the play area, so while i continued to attack many of the lifts and staircases, i did my best to keep both wheels on the ground. I still managed to surprise Louis with a few of the things i got — just cause i don’t jump doesn’t mean i don’t ride South Mountain every week . as we rode away from the exposed ledge dropping 100 feet off the mesa, Louis asked if it bothered me…”nah. i mean, i’m not trying to talk shit, but heights don’t scare me.” i think i was a little bit stronger of a pure climber than Louis, and at least for some stretches i could keep the pace.

Louis wanted to explore the far side of the mesa, so we spent a lot of time after the climb and trials doing a lot more walking than riding. I was glad that he would get something new out of his day, since i definitely felt he was holding back on my behalf. And i had resolved not to complain about things during the course of the day. But after a while the hiking in bike shoes and all the brush and complete lack of rhythm started to grind me down. We turned down the hill at just the right time, but had to make the final push off the nastiest part of the mesa by coming down the back side of a natural waterfall. Fortunately it wasn’t running more than a trickle, cause the hike was hard in any conditions. And it was neat enough to make it, well, neat. But carrying a bike into thorn bushes and being 3 hours worth of tired made it kinda unpleasant. However I got to see upclose the wall Louis had ridden down in a video, and my awe for his skills just kept growing.

Much of the last 30-45 minutes of the ride was a blur of just trying to keep up and hold it together towards the end. i was at the point in the ride where i was not hurt and had resolved to do everything to finish that way, so it made me even more timid for the finish. and then another sprint in the car to not get lost getting back to the road. But fortunately i made it through the day with only a minor abrasion on my sidewall (which was ready to be replaced after this ride anyway), and a tear to the butt-pad on the back of my 20-year old pants! the army sure makes good clothing.

since the trip i have been looking to hit every little obstacle i can find — its like once you get a few skills, so many things become ridable. I took Kila out on the Heckler down past the church and below Red Mtn Park the other night, and we haven’t had so much fun freeriding around the neighborhood since before the 202 came in and all that land was open desert. jumps below the park, stairs at the church, some new concrete blocks to drop off of i had never considered before…it was a nice little hour workout and skillz session, all at dog speed. and the steeps next to the power station have convinced me that the Heckler will take the steeps on Slickrock as well or better than the Blur.   this year the Heckler goes to Moab.