A tremendous amount of bike geekery sandwiched into a tremendously busy week. The rest of my Outlook calendar was even uglier.
Social Distortion – Angel’s Wings
Tuesday, 7:10am – Dropped the Acura at the dealership, grabbed a V8, and repeated last week. Forsure now the crap-ass old Kenda Kinetics i had on the back was making me slide off things going up, so I gave up on sessioning. Its remarkable how much more positive that can make you feel, when you only fail on something once instead of 5 times. 
Down Corona Loma, got all the initial descent and more of the cliff, both tough drops and surfed my way to the bottom. Perhaps not as pretty as last week, but I felt so calm – like a bluebird powder day. On the ride back to the Autoplex I put the big bike to good use on the street and ran over several Proposition 102 signs, thereby freeing 6-8 blocks of Elliot Road from bigotry!
Fuck lotta good that did – stupid Arizona hate-mongers. 
Wednesday, 10:30am – I met up with Deanna (CoyoteKis) for a casual social spin around Usery on Beckie’s new bike. She is a lot of fun, and Deanna was fun too. The bike is super-plush, but still feels a bit slow off the line. According to Peter at Rage that is just part of the feel for this bike. My fit was so off that I had a hard time reading much into much of anything, but i do like the ergonomic handlebars and the barrel adjusters. It seems to maintain speed easier, and i did not feel like I was racing to keep my cadence on the climbs.
Wednesday, 1:45pm – after working intensely for 2.5 hrs, I weighed the wheels of the Bianchi. They don’t weigh enough different than the Lemond to have made a difference. 
Wednesday, 3:00pm – after working intensely for 1 hr, I mounted a new Maxxis Ignitor on the Heckler. It was ugly, the bead would not stick, I had to hand rub sealant on the bead and then blew it across the room with the air compressor. The Man-Cave looked like a porn film set, and the sidewall-spunk-rubbing was eerily reminiscient of some awkward titty-fuck scene from 11th grade after a long dry spell and a cop shining his light in the window of the babe-a-licious Dodge Aries K at an extremely inopportune moment. I have taken to wearing an apron when i work on tubeless wheels.
They called me McLuvin in high school, btw.
I concluded that colored glitter should be used in homemade sealant, not for any functional purposes, but to make the air compressor and the money shot look more like a fireworks display.
Wednesday, 4:00pm – Vowed a blood oath not to tell Beckie about weighing the wheels, or the apron. I have a giant enough bike-geek hole to climb out of every day as it is.
Wednesday, 4:05 – 5:08pm – Usery Loop again on the Lemond. My time was good, my ass is sore, I am so very very confused. . The Bianchi should be excellent for Beckie.
Wednesday, 5:14 – 6:02pm – Dog ride!!!!!!!
Saturday, 8am – National C2C2C, all on the trail. We skipped a few flat miles in the middle.
A big group started out.
Doug and I were the only ones to go up National, which was a nice rhythm start to the day by ourselves. We rejoined the group at the Mormon\National split, until BV when it became just 7 of us: Doug, Bob, Jeff Monkeybutt, Craig from Moab, Tomas from Flag, Jayem from Prescott, and me. I was not dialed in, and endo’d stupidly on the very first staircase, then nearly lost the group slacking my way out to Telegraph. Wake up, dipshit!!! I studied the trail out of Telegraph during the whole hike-a-bike; i’ve never ridden it nor heard the beta on it, it always seemed scary, but it looked mostly rideable going down. The rest of the ridgeline climb was long and slow and workmanlike, or at least it seemed that way in my mind (my Forerunner bit the dust going up National). But Doug was destroying all in his path and i think our pace was actually pretty brisk, is just felt slow with the knowledge of the long grind still ahead of us. I got the whole gnarly descent for the 2nd time out of 4 tries, and it rolled easily out of my happy-place from the Corona Loma ride – that stretch is now officially out of my head. 
. The rest of the DH to the bottom of National’s west end was a blast.
Saturday, 11:15am – Doug and I spun about a mile out to San Juan road and back, for no purpose other than abusing ourselves and hitting the goal we set for the route. During the 45 minutes of almost non-stop hiking back up the horrible scree downhill, this extra mileage seemed extra stupid. Jayem called it the approach to Camp 2 on Everest, and was dismayed to know it had only been 20 minutes. My shoe, which has been dying a slow and painful death, blew up completely on this hike. I saved it with some electrical tape buried in my pack. We ran into DurtGurl and a few others at the top, and as usual her smile was a welcome sight for my 1000-yard-stare. All in all, National west-to-east just kinda sucks. It took an hour and half go get back to Telegraph, 5 minutes of which was pure gnartopia and almost all rideable, the rest I would rather spin 30 minutes back up the road.
LiteandFast Dave stashed some water at Telegraph for us, and as we were reloading, I saw Doug and Jeff just rounding the trail out of sight. So I’d be alone getting back to BV. Everyone else was taking the road, and I was sorely tempted to go for the 20 minute spin instead of another 45 minutes with much hiking. Craig put it best: Jason needs to stay pure. which was funny, and true, and particularly depressing when I saw everyone rolling easily up the road from my perch on the Catwalk. I enjoyed climbing this stretch a couple months ago when I was fresh, this time it got hard and hot. My new $15 what-do-i-got-to-lose kneepads were sliding around, and ripped. My shoe blew up again, required more tape. I was too close to the end to get truly demoralized, instead i just kind of staggered along like a drunk making his way slowly home. As I crested the last staircase before the final mile of easy singletrack into BV, Angel’s Wings (accoustic) came on my player. I almost cried. I also knew right away that it would be the soundtrack for this post. Looking down into BV a few minutes later, I was overjoyed to see everyone still chilling in the shade….aww, my friends waited for me
. We then had one of the best descents i’ve ever had down National, so I decided to go with the decidedly more upbeat electric version of this song.
Saturday, 2pm – I chased Bob and Jeff down the last stretch of National, and we hit every jump on the trail. We sprinted 4 or 5 minutes at a time, panted, breathed deep, then blasted off again. I had been keeping a bonk at bay for the last hour, and now feeling the finish my body gave up the last reserve it had, along with pretty much any energy dedicated towards stopping. It was so worth it. There is a small popper near the split, its only about a foot drop but goes up at a steep angle, and i pumped just when i hit it to launch myself far out of my comfort zone. I knew it was cool as soon as i flew off, and Durtgurl behind me yelled out confirmation. I then put my new dismounting technique on display sliding off the back of the bike trying to go up The Crab – much to the pleasure of the assembled masses! The descent was a rush, the climb on the jeep road brutal.
“Hey chollaball, you’re a liar, there aint no climb on the jeep road!!!”
There isn’t? I’m sure there is at least a 10 vf gain, and it hurt.
Saturday, 4:10pm – 5:04pm – “I wanna go to the park Daddy. I wanna go to the park on the bike”.
Shit. 
There is at least a 50 vf gain on Ravine Street, and it hurt.
The tally from the C2C2C ride:
broken mount on the Forerunner – piece’o’shit
exploded shoe – piece’o’shit
torn kneepad – piece’o’shit
lost earring – piece’o’shit
Saturday, 5:19 – 5:30pm – bathe G, shower, dress self and others, prep G’s dinner, get money, feed dog, greet Alex and Rose, crack beers, find tickets, have party hat, instruct Baby-Sitter, wistfully think about eating something, chug beer, GO TO HOCKEY!!!!!!
Our seats were fabulous. The Coyotes won 4-1. I lost a bet that the selections of Mustache Rock would include Van Halen’s “Jump”. Beckie, Alex and Rose gave me no slack even though they played both “Panama” and “Hot for Teacher.”
Sunday, 9:30am – goto gym with G, take advantage of daycare.
Sunday, 12 – The First Annual MTBR Swap Meet. Another gem from the mind of CactusJoe. He rented out a ramada at South Mountain, and got a keg of beer. Seems like about 50 people showed up, most of whom had far nicer stuff laying around than me. I was utterly blown away by the variety and assortment, all I had was some old tires and some SOLAS tape.
check out the reflection from that flash!
a lot full of nice bikes and the infamous Short Bus
It was great seeing people, having some beers, and exploring the parts bins. I didn’t know what to expect, but with everyone basically looking to swap and share and maybe make a few bills for their old parts or new junk, the vibe was more of helping each other out by way of spare stuff. The karma was really incredible. LiteandFast Dave had asked me for some SOLAS tape, which I was happy to spare him for stashing water the day before. Meanwhile, U2metoo was checking out my pair of 1-time knee pads which I decided were not worth keeping, so i told him take them if he wanted. Meanwhile, Carmen and Lynette gave me an old full-face helmet they no longer needed. Sam gave me $5, I gave Carmen some SOLAS tape, the Maxxis Ignitor wound up costing $57 dollars, but i did not bleed from either of my two falls the day before. Fabulous karma.
I also picked up a pair of flat pedals for $10, so now am ready to give the beginner line at the NRA pit a try.
G had a really good time running around. She was a very good little girl, and most of the riders appreciated her fondness for dirt exploration. I had to give her near-constant attention, and scope out bike stuff with one eye while keeping another on her. A few cookies, and some playtime with JB’s little girl Natalie helped pass the time. But really I have no complaints as she did a good job of sharing the afternoon with me. When G finally reached the end of her patience after about 2 hrs, it seemed fair enough for her to want to leave. At home, she could not stop talking about wanting to ride her bike; tell me she did not pick up on what we were all doing?!?!
she has learned to smile for the camera, now she just needs to open her eyes.
Sunday, 6pm – Eagles fall on Sunday Night game, the season is lost.
