in addition to being the mtb world’s foremost expert on Rocky Point (a fact confirmed when some local roadies had no idea the things i was riding, but invited me to join them for a 40 miler along the coast), and also a B-List celebrity in the burgeoning field of ghetto tubeless, I am also the only person to do all 5 Quad Bypasses. This is a title i will likely surrender next year.
I had negligible desire to do ride this, and only a sense of duty and having executed my workout week for a big Saturday ride got me out the front door. I was *this* close to hopping in the car and riding all of Hawes. short on time, full of disdain for the course, weariness of the McDs, pissed off i left my helmet in the parking lot of Somo, launching 30 minutes after everyone, and having eaten way too much post-holidays clearance-sale xmas candy: my mindset was bitter. I knew it would be a sufferfest as soon as I blew up ascending Windgate, hammering to catch the pack. A better description was a grudge fuck.
It hurt me right back. I pushed a lot. I was alone for most of it. I broke a spoke. I pushed a lot. And I still equaled my best time. 5:50 moving and 20 idle, vs ’09 when it was 5:10 moving and an hour resting. there is a lesson here, but i don’t know what? Maybe its that i am not getting faster, just more numb to the pain of crap-ass minichunk.
I was so not-into the ride, and so into the slog, that my mind wandered and went blank and came back again, and again, and again. Studying and breaking down and reforming over 6 hours of steady unpleasantness. Someday someone will invent a voice-to-text module that can take notes onto your mp3 player, and while i hate gadgets, i would be so all over that. What a wonderful way to blog about my radness. so, with the help of some open mic time on FB, my new 5 minutes:
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They say eskimos have 300 words for snow…mountain bikers have 300 words for dirt:
tasty
tackalicious
loam
red planet dirt
velcro
kitty litter
crap-ass minichunk
lightly creamy on top
pulverized ash
undulating skickrock
cake mix
flour
silt
sprinkles
rash hash
grit
uniform volcanic bits
river rock
sludgey and surfable
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- why do hikers say stupid shit like “you’re almost to the top“? I know that, i have 2 gps and a cell phone.
- why do hikers say stupid shit like “that other rider blah blah blah…‘ Are you with every other hiker, in a hiking club?
- why do hikers say stupid shit like “i didn’t think a bike could ride that?” I didn’t think you could walk that slow, or react to me more languidly, but here we are
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What do you like in a riding friend?
- when they inspire you
- when your success is all about you and not about them, no matter what kind of day they’re having
- when their success is all about them, no matter kind of day you’re having
- learning stuff, about bikes, and stuff
- hot girlfriends
- hot (i’m not sexist, i’ll ride with anyone)
- you are confident enough in them to risk a fall
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if I was U2, this b-sides album would go multi-platinum. i’m working through a PodfordBlock, where the very act of developing a personality and becoming so incredibly interesting has shriveled up the little blossom of time i have to blog about her radness. i’m so busy dealing with the actuality of her Podfordness. i thought that up on the ride too. Windgate still sucks ass.