The Return of Danger Baby

at first, Danger Baby was drawn to attractive yet colosal acts of stupidity, bright shiny things that wrapped themselves around death-wishes. Now, Danger Baby is drawn to challenges and puzzles, not knowing the threat they pose.

I was trying to snooze, but as summer has waxed G gets up no later than 7, and I heard the plate and the door of the microwave clunking. I thought it was Beckie returning from her run, but there was oddly too much silence and no t.Human crying “Mommy!” I bolted awake and shot into the kitchen to find G standing on a stool before the microwave, warming up a fridge magnet. She had not fear of the nuclear meltdown and potential trip back in time that lay before her.

Soon after, she turned on the mixer, and reached to put her hand into the bowl.

Today it was opening and closing the oven door.

HOLYFUCKINGSHIT IS NOTHING SAFE?!?!!

The answer of course is no. The kid is smart, or at least understand On switches. It was cute when she turned off the TV in the middle of The Daily Show, but now I’m unplugging every appliance in the kitchen. Don’t even get me started on her abilitly to turn doornobs, move and then climb chairs, or get outside via the dog doors. She might be able to master Myst, but this brings the amount of peril she can get herself into to a whole ‘nother level.

Amber Alert

JB called the other day “dude I just saw your bike at Rage.” For the first time ever, i had dropped my bike at Rage Cycles. I really needed my brakes bled, it was getting to the point where i might just kill myself they had gotten so bad, and Rick was busy on my WFH day.

anywho, it was a good opportunity to meet the crew at Rage and check em out for $15. I introduced myself, they were very cool, no surprises there as i have never heard anything but good things about them. I think they are probably as good as Adventure, better perhaps with wrenching, not as much perhaps in stock. Certainly way the hell more convenient now. If they just give me the Everday-Bro-Deal I get everyday from Adventure i will go there more and more. I will miss the Adventure crew, but they are doing just fine without me. I am getting ahead of myself…

So JB spotted my Heckler!!! how cool is that? Its kinda man-gay!

What’s In Your Pack?

Everytime i empty my pack to clean it, i’m amazed at how many tiny, useful things i have in there. all this plus 100oz water and pack weighs 12 lbs. I have had more including 2 litters of water (70oz) , more food (5oz), armor (2lbs), and a dry-lite shirt (4oz). It was bursting at the seams and weighed about 19lbs.

Beckie made fun of me while taking this photo, saying my obsessiveness reached a whole new level. i was just curious.

B: What are you gonna do with this?

Me: Dunno. Probably blog about it.

Top Row Bottom Row
2 tubes
some TP
small tube of lube
chapstick
brush
multi-tool
Gerber tool
packages of IBU
patch kit
brake pades
cliff bar-y stuff
pump
box w. chain links, chain ring bolts, cleat bolts
2 oz stans sealant
small tube of eyedrops
sunscreen
wallet
keys
cellphone
tire levers
chain tool
brake pad spacer
replaceable presta valve core & core wrench
electrical tape
spoke wrench
plastic shim for positioning a camera
camera*
small comb
derailler hanger
4mm straight allen wrench
strip of plastic from a milk jug
old nasty sock
*actual camera not pictured here
**not pictured: paperclip, lighter and dugout

Exploring

i wanted to title this “Finding a Line.” But though that happened, it was not the theme of this adventure. After today, i am quite sure a post of that title will come eventually. but i can’t feed my biker-ego and keep my artistic integrity, and this title is much better anyway.

Everyone needed to go out, but i did not want to deal with people. I kinda didn’t want to deal with G and K, which called into question the meaning of Father’s Day: is it about being with your seed, or getting a reward? Irregardless, Beckie was clearly ready for some private time and i had not spent enough time with G today or any day as it had played out.

I opted for the Fire Station, and solitude. it has been awhile.

At first she pouted that we were not at the park, but quickly got excited about filling in holes with rocks and sprinkling sand into the wind. and she drank a lot of beer. we walked across the desert and the green shimmer of the weeds inspired G to yell out “park! park!” She knew she was wrong, but she knew it was something to explore. and then we climbed a 10-yard large-for-a-tinyHuman mound and as she got to the top she yelled “there!” I can not state more profoundly than to state it simply that her hiking skills have become proficient and her ability to navigate the desert more so reflecting her instinct for self-preservation. She weaved, turned, ducked, and when i said “find the line, G” she said “find the line” and walked around the brush.

another toe-hold.

Like many adventures of exploration, she pushed herself a little too far and was unable to make it back to the bike. Or she was just plain lazy. But the baby bonked! All of a sudden I had to carry her, and not a squirmy fidgety carry either. She hooked herself onto me and enjoyed the ride, calling out “moon” and “airplane” and “flowers” and then collapsing in the seat with a water bottle for the spin home.

Father’s Day: A Revolution

Against the tyranny of tubes, Stan’s and Big Oil!

my day had actually nothing whatsoever to do against Big Oil, other than I am still feel flush from buying my rack. And the righteous anger sounds good. And I would revolt against Big Oil if it were possible, and fully expect a drunken diatribe against Big Oil before the day is done! Here goes…be back in a sec…

much better now.

i have finally purchased myself an air compressor. along with cheap mold builder to make sealant, cheap strapping tape and pipe tape to make rim strips, and old valve stems to make ghetto tubeless valves, I have cheaply taken back my tires! Hard to believe that Stan’s charges $60 for their kit for 2 tires, when for $17 of mold builder and tape and old tubes you can do 25 tires. Some presta tubes now have their own removable valve cores too. The compressor brings it all together, and makes it simply a task in the ManCave and not a giant risky sweaty proposition that could leave me exhausted and my tires flat and my garage floor looking like the set from a porn movie.

Stan’s, basically, is a scam. That’s not quite fair to say, as they do offer a turnkey convenient solution. But they do not match it in value. Maybe it was ok when they were the first on the market, but now that so many other people are offering rim strips and ghetto knowledge – the Power has returned to the Streets mothafugga!!! i’m particularly pissed at Stan’s now after they charged me $12 to ship a 4oz package. Here’s how that played out: my rimstrips both tore at the valve core through normal wear, i called Stan’s and politely asked if that was normal, they offered me 2 new ones at half price $11 each. That is not a bad deal for pre-made strips, so i said hey thanks, feeling much better about them. Then they charged me $12 to ship UPS ground, which is the same time as the $5 for USPS Priority Mail – its not that the money is that big a deal, its that they were ebaying me after trying to retain me as a customer, cuz i ship UPS too and it aint $12 with a corporate discount!!!

Many people talk about less rolling resistance and more touch on the trails due to tubeless tires, but its been really hard for me to put a finger on that. But on my ride Thursday, i had tubes in both tires for the first time in a long time, and i felt the absence of those benefits very acutely. The Heckler simply felt sluggish and less nimble, and a few times i was coming closer to washing out than i’m used to. I spilled on National near Telegraph Pass on what should have been relatively straightfoward riding, fortunately with no ill-effects other than a heightened sense of what i was missing.

My ride had a lot more shit going on than the tires. My chain exploded 5 yards into the climb up 24th St., and the only mechanic to blame was myself. I spent the next 20 minutes fixing it on a bench in the parking lot, and got to listen to a family across the street with a child maybe a bit younger than G playing in the pool. They were singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and all the other goofy shit and sayings, and i wanted to put the chain tool through my skull like the stungun in No Country for Old Men. Whew! It was rewarding to know that i do still hate children, other than my own. My brakes were fugged up too, and apparently need to be bled, but i still managed to climb 24th and out to Telegraph and a few trials i am new too and progressing upon.

Viva La Revolucion!

Hey Baby, Nice Rack!

Inspired by $4/gallon, and having happily used the same rack configuration on my trip to Moab, I dropped about $700 to get a new Yakima Holdup rack and trailer hitches for the Prius and the Acura from a U-Haul dealer near work. It allows me to take 2 bikes on either car, in a simple configuration that should not provide too much drag against my mileage. I averaged about 40 mpg in the Prius with 2 bikes to Globe and back, vs our normal 45 – not too bad, in the mountains. The rack is about 5 minutes work to put on and take off, along with the hitch weighs about 80 lbs, and tucks up nicely when not in use. It takes about 20 seconds to mount a bike, and less than 10 to get it off. Did you say 10 seconds? Yes, 6 seconds in fact when i timed myself!

$6000 hanging off that tiny car.

Getting everything ordered and picked out involved a few hours ordering from Agee’s, several trips through Scottsdale from U-Haul to work on my rollerblades, and of course the assembly. It was not bad, but did not go ideally. I put the trays on reversed – not backwards, but there was an ambiguity in the directions and of course i stumbled on it. Then trying the lock that attaches to the hitch bolt, i realized it can not be gotten off due to some metal on the hitch. How i got that on there was really just an exercise in willful stupidity, but realizing my brand new rack was now irrevocably locked to my car, i pretty much shit my pants. So i hacksawed through one of the metal loops on the bottom of the hitch that appearred to have no structural value whatsoever. This was confirmed the next day by the U-haul guys, thankfully after 30 minutes lying on my back sawing and and getting iron dust in my eyes and hair.

Alex and I gave took it on its first run to join u2metoo (Sam) and skinny-tire (Jeff) climbing Pinal Peak and then descending Six Shooter Canyon. It was 2.5 hours, 15 miles and 4500 vf to the top. Miles 10-14 were tough, you had to keep gut-checking through to the next switchback. I wanted to stop, but Alex wasn’t, so I didn’t. I needed that!!! Finally mile 15 rolled us to the trailhead. Very steep, super-thin trail in places on loamy sandy soil with pine needles forced me to stay in control the whole way down…way in control. Some trials and b-lines have been added to the trail and we hit every one we could find. The best was a log ride that is unlike anything i have done before – basically roll down a log’s length. The first time i stopped right at the entrance, the second i rolled off outside but felt comfortable since i didn’t fall, and then got it a couple times finally for fun. the trick was to just focus on what was there to ride on, and not what was not there. More trials, rock gardens, jumps, loose stuff, and boostable step-downs at the bottom – really just a huge variety of challenges in the hour and 15 minutes down through the entire scope of AZ terrain from Pine Forest to High Desert to Desert.

at the parking spot there was a Honda Element and a Prius and we thought by gawd the meth heads are gonna knock off these big city treehuggers!!! It took Alex and me just an hour and a half to get home, awesome riding for being so close to the East Valley.

Some vid from Sam:

Under Water

G got under with me today. all the funny faces and water spraying has paid off in her finally not being afraid. We went under, she got all addled, and then she said “Again!” And i implored, are you fucking serious you ready Baby to go under?” And she said “Again!” and we did, and it worked, and she was cool.

Beckie ho-hummed, but she had never done that. Then she went in and had G in her waterwings and she was propelling herself across the pool! Propellation! It is cool how we have different places we take G.

Beckie says one month til swimming. I think a bit longer, til all the elements come to play and cocongealify. The axe hanging over my subcounsciou that G would not be a swimmer was lifted today. And the fulfillment when a tinyHuman trusts you to take her somewhere where she can’t breathe…where she can’t fucking breathe…is an unbeleiveable rush! I love my little swimmer!!

Straps

coming home from the gym today, we were barely 100 yards out of the parking lot when G started going “straps straps.” and in the back of my addled brain after a week of great complexity, i realized that as i placed her in the car i gave her soda, a purple stuffed lizard, a kiss, but no straps to her carseat. This is not the first time I’ve done this, but i think i can count on 1 foot how many times i have done it. I won’t be giving myself out any MVP’s, but 99.8% success is not bad.

Unless its the one time it gets her killed.

So i am deeply grateful that G has developed a survival instinct. Beckie says it is nothing more than
habit and training. Hrumph! I don’t care what it is if it prevents us from catasrophic acts of parental stupidity.

Complicated Endeavors

Keeping G engaged gets more involved every day. More challenges, more plotlines, more parts. It is really fun, actually, as it keeps me relatively more interested as well. watching her tinyMind sort out tinyProblems and take tinyInstructions is incredible.

The other day I needed to do some bike work, and i did not want her to sit alone in front of the TV. So I said “let’s get your tool box” and off she went to fetch her little toy toolkit. Of course it only kept her occupied about as long as it took me to unbolt my derailer from its bent hanger, but it was a few minutes of calm before she grabbed a pen and started writing all over herself. Quick distractions were required in the form of letting her pump up some old tubes with a bike pump, which also worked for a short span, but eventually ended in my entire box of spare tubes and tires being strewn about the garage. And then more writing on self.

Playing with her trains is even more engrossing. There are conversations with passengers, delivery schedules, important traffic control changes that she must enact. If I touch the trains, she howls like a unionized Amtrak ticket-taker worried about having to earn a living in a free market.

Many times now we take toys with us to the park, and at times she is more interested in running through the park with her toys than playing on the equipment. Her soccer ball is an incredible source of wonder – it goes away, it comes back, it goes out in front of her, it bounces, daddy throws it in the air and bounced it off her noggin. And while I think soccer is the stupidest field sport imaginable, it does make sense when you are a little girl and can’t throw and gravity is working against you to use your feet to play with the toys you keep dropping.

All does not always go so smoothly. Sometimes she has a plan in mind and I have no idea whatsoever what she wants, or if its safe. She was rambling on about monkey bars and feet the other day, but seemed ironically satisfied and aggravated when I held her so she could hang upside down from her knees. Sometimes she’ll point her little finger at me and go “NO DADDY NO NO NO” and I go “what the hell did i do?” Things get spilled, and she insists on grabbing cleaning implements and pushing them hither and tharn around the floor so that the mess is equally distributed over a wide area, which if you could simply adjust your sensitivity downward like in Photoshop, makes it all appear clean. Scavenger-hunt-like collections of whatnot must often be gotten as a necessity for the long trek from the front door to the car, leading to great dilemmas in portaging and transport.

Her verbalization has grown in tandem with her schemes. I’m told she is very advanced as a communicator, all I know is that she knows exactly what she wants me to do and has no qualms about telling me. Great plans call for great leaders, and G is certain she is one. Its kind of ego-centric, its kind of dictatorial, i am wondering when i will arrive to pick her up from daycare and find all the children amassed in her service like a would-be Colonel Kurtz.