The Musings of a Zen Monkey

2009-07-03 Hollenbeck Canyon

2009-07-04T23:47:00.000-07:00

I met Gardner at the parking lot and we waited a considerable amount of time for Bryan to show up. In the mean time, we watched a couple of moderately out-of-shape riders get on their bikes and ride away. Within about 10 minutes they were back, and approached us asking us for help. It seems the woman had fallen and done something to her thumb. I took a look at the thumb, which didn't look broken or bruised, but the woman started to puke. I let her finish, then we got out the phones and tried to find the nearest medical facility. I called 411, but of course they are absolutely no help if you don't know the address. The couple went on their way to find the medical facility at Palm and I-805 and Gardner and I continued to wait.

Bryan finally showed up about 45 minutes late and we got ourselves ready. Bryan was riding his new bike for the first time, a Pivot. We took off and rode the singletrack until we came to the road at which point we continued upward. We finally got to a spot where I suggested we turn around because the road was taking us away from where we wanted to go.

We then found another turn off on the road and continued to follow that as it approached some houses. These houses had BIG dogs and the dogs weren't on leashes or penned in, and Bryan got a little scared. I don't think we would have had any problems, but we chose to go back down the way we came. The funny thing is that the way back was so fast and furious and yet, I didn't recall climbing so much.

We explored a bit more and then finally headed back to the cars. Gardner and I went to dinner at the nasty sushi place. Afterwards, I bid him fairwell and headed off to Skydive San Diego to set up my tent and start drinking.

La Costa 2009-05-23

2009-05-27T16:13:00.000-07:00

I hadn't been on my bike for so long that I was feeling very guilty. Worse yet, when I got on the trail, I felt so unstable that I was scared. Regardless, I rode up Switchbacks and down Camino del Mar. It was a short ride, but it was fun and got me going.

The trails at La Costa are really nice but there are a lot of rocks sticking out of the ground to add a challenge and keep the riff-raff out.

Hollenbeck Canyon - 2009-03-08

2009-03-08T23:13:00.000-07:00

I sat at Skydive San Diego, waiting for Brian and Wendy. I had expected them around 12:15, so at 11:45, I got out of my jumpsuit and waited. An hour and a half later, they finally arrived. I was slightly miffed that I could have done two more jumps in the time I waited, but that was milk already spilled, so off we went to ride at Hollenbeck Canyon.

The drive from Skydive San Diego was only about 10 minutes through lushly green rolling hills. Once we got to the parking area, we went about getting dressed and prepped.

We started down the access road, and quickly we entered the canyon. After several creek crossings, repleat with black goo that splattered all over our legs and bikes, we started to climb. The climb was not too strenuous and offered intermissions from the exertion as the road turned to singletrack that followed the side of a hill. Below us, was a creek, at times noticable and at times hidden from our view. At several locations the singletrack was retained to the side of the hill by stone walls. It was easy to see how someone might get hurt if they went over the edge as the fall at points would be 20+ feet, with a rock bed waiting to exact a penalty for inattention or lack of control.

We followed the singletrack as it continued to climbed and eventually widened out into a still beautiful, but less exciting widetrack. All around us, the hills were green with splashes of early blooming California Poppies and other wildflowers. Orange, purple, and red flowers greeted us as we rounded each corner or summited each hillock.

The trail vascilated between widetrack and singletrack, almost as if it wasn't certain who it wanted to be enjoying it. But finally, it ended at a major dirt road. The GPS said that we were now in the Cleveland National Forest, but there were no markings on the road to let us know where we were or where to go. We decided to continue to climb, hoping that soon we'd find a singletrack leading off to some hidden bucolic treasure.

After about 10 minutes, with the wind blowing cold even under the bright mid-afternoon sunlight, and without encountering any singletrack, I decided to turn around. Wendy and Brian decided that they would continue climbing.

The ride back to the car was quick and fun.

2009-01-30 Sycamore Canyon fragment

2009-01-30T22:29:00.000-08:00

On Tuesday, I received a phone call from Bill R asking me if I was interested in a Friday After Work Ride. Hell Yeah! I've been such a slacker on the MtB recently, that this was just the invitation I needed. As an added incentive, I invited all the Southern California Mountain Biker Boys to join.

We were scheduled to meet at 4pm, but thanks to heavier than expected traffic, my trip from Torrey Pines took much longer than the 30 minutes I had allotted, and as a result, it wasn't until 4:15 that I arrived at the West Hills Park parking lot. Bill was already there, and no one else had RSVP'd that they would be joining, so it was just the two of us. Unfortunately, Bill didn't bring a light so our ride was bound to be shorter than I would have liked.

After getting dressed and our tires pumped, we headed down Mast Blvd. to the trail head. I was in the lead, so, I took the sweet singletrack that I'd been exposed to on the New Year's Day Ride. There was much less water to contend with as we criss-crossed the creek, which was nice because the sun was going down quickly and moving north we were blocked from remnants of warmth coming from the west by the canyon wall. Bill was about 100m behind me for most of the easy part of the singletrack, but when we got to the uphill portion, he demonstrated skills matching the nick name I'd given him: "Billy Goat". While I struggled to stay on the bike, he simply climbed the hill as if it was an easy task.

When we got to the top, we headed up the road, but I couldn't remember the exact route, so I had us zigging when we should have been zagging, and after an aborted run that brought us to a dead end at the bottom of a steep hill, we finally continued down the gravel road that ended at the power poles. At this point we determined it was getting too dark to continue so we started on our way back.

Along the way, we rode through the area where the local kids had built several jumps. I was determined to hit one of the jumps, so I started to pedal very hard and fast, wanting to gain enough momentum and speed to launch me high into the air. However, at the last moment, I swerved to miss the jump. I felt a bit disgusted at myself for chickening out, especially when I considered that I jump out of airplanes but wouldn't hit a 1/2 meter jump.

We made it back to the cars just before it got completely dark. After changing clothes and some chit chat, we parted ways with another 1 hour ride under our belts. It felt good, but I wish it had been longer.

2009-Jan-10 La Costa

2009-01-10T19:52:00.000-08:00

After all of the errands and long planned events of the morning were finished, and the morning trail work event at La Costa Conservation Area well passed, I ventured out to get a quick ride in before the planned events of Saturday evening.

I arrived at the starting point at about 3:15, surprised to find several SDMBA members (Rich J, Matt M, Gardner G, among others) still hanging around, drinking beers and chatting. I joined them for what I wanted to be a brief moment, but I ended up hanging around for around 45 minutes. Part of the reason I stood around for so long was because I was feeling a big guilty for not having been there for the morning trail work, even though I had scheduled the other events long before I learned about the trailwork. The other reason was because there was never a long enough pause in the conversation to interject that I was going to go riding. When I finally noticed that it was 4pm, and I needed to be home within an hour, I bid farewell and got myself going.

I took Switchbacks up, moving very quickly toward the top. I felt strong and solid on the bike, making corners and climbs that I often need to walk. When I got to the top of the singletrack and continued toward the kiosc, I was in a race against the clock, although the rider I had caught up with must have been in a self-imagined race with me because he didn't seem like he wanted to let me pass him.

When I got to the kiosc, I had the intention of taking a picture holding a Moosejaw flag (Moosejaw is this really cool outdoor gear company that has all sorts of opportunities to earn points redeemable for goods. A picture with a Moosejaw logo in it is only worth $1, but it's not really any sweat to send it in.) I snapped a few pictures of myself using the timer function on the camera and then, without thinking what I was doing, I headed back down the hill the same way I came.

About half way down the hill it dawned on me that I really should have taken the "Camino Del Mar" trail, with it's windy, sweet swoops and much greater length. But by that point, I was already committed to getting down the hill, so I continued to zip through the switchbacks.

When I got back to my car, a few of the SDMBA organizers were still hanging around. I stopped by again to chat and then changed into dry clothes and drove home. It wasn't a very long ride, but it was better than nothing and burned some calories and put my head in a great space.

Sycamore Canyon 2009/1/1/ - First SDMBA/NMBP Patrol

2009-01-01T22:29:00.000-08:00

So, the DirtTreaders were riding on New Years day. And not only were they riding on New Years Day, but at 9am. That meant, at least for me, an early night on New Years Eve. I know myself. I know that it will take me an inordinant amount of time to get ready and get out of the house. I know that once I get to the ride site that it will take me a good amount of time to get everything organized since I bring the kitchen sink with me on a ride.

Clothes are no problem, since I have my riding clothes anal-retentively organized into sacks. It makes it very easy to just grab a bag and go since each one already contains everything I need to wear. On top of that, there's the helmet cam to set up. Then there's the still cam to hook up to the camelbak. Then there's the iPod and headphones. Then there's the elbow and knee & shin guards, heart rate monitor with chest strap... The wheel needs to be put on the front of the bike... You get the picture.

I decided it was a good time to put the SDMBA/NMBP into action with the first patrol activity ever. So, I left at 7:45am for the ride. The drive out of Leucadia was a bit sketchy with deep pockets of fog all along the freeway. It wasn't until I got south of the hump at Del Mar Heights that it started to clear up, and by the time I made over Mission Trails Summit it was bright and sunny.

I arrived with about 40 minutes to spare, got myself together and by the time the ride was ready to depart, I was just putting on my helmet. :)

There were 13 riders in total, which is a pretty big group to manage. I had an interesting observation resulting from seeing another rider, Rob, with a brown Mojo SL with red linkages. I haven't seen too many Mojo SLs, or for that matter, Mojos at all here in San Diego. Rob had added a few nice upgrades from my ride, with a Talas fork over the RLC and some very nice wheels. The observation I had was how funny it is that a bike can create a connection between two people that I didn't experience with anyone else. It's almost that, at a minimum, the brand of a bike someone owns, but even more so, the brand and model can generate a bond between riders that riding itself doesn't necessarily do. The Specialized people recognize each other and the Trek people have something to chat about. And I've seen how the the river of component difference slakes single-speeders off from geard bikers on a group ride. Anyway, the group took off before I was quite ready to ride, but I jammed on it, and with some effort caught up with the leaders of the group within 2km from the car. Oops, I forgot to lube my chain. I was hoping that it would have had enough from the last ride at Palm Canyon. (It turned out OK. It was only at the end, after going through a bunch of mud, that the chain had any issues.)

Almost immediately after the ride started four riders were missing. At the first regrouping, we learned that one rider was waiting at the parking lot for someone who was late arriving. The two of themadded to the other two who zigged while at the front of the group while the leader and remainder of the group zagged. It wasn't long before we were all herded together, and off we rolled. Our ride organizer demonstrated a new route which took us up a very scenic stream bed. With many crossings, I'd be amazed if anyone had dry feet. When we got to the bottom of the first serious climb, we regrouped. This took much longer than the first regrouping, but we good naturedly stood around talking and enjoying the beauty that was surrounding us.

After climbing the hill which was soggy, loose and off cambre the whole way up, we regrouped again, this one taking much longer. We then made our way down a road, until a well hidden singletrack presented itself to our guide and we were soon zipping our way downward on a cobble-lined ribbon. The downhill was fun but a bit bumpy. Our guide and another rider were out in front. I was trailing a bit further behind, the remainder of the other riders staggered well behind me.

After some technical drops and slides that proved to be too much for the vast majority of us, resulting in muddy shoes as we hopped and slid our way down, we regrouped again, and then continued on our way toward the switchbacks climb and descent. At the break-off for the western switchbacks, we waited again for the group to catch up. At least one rider decided at this point to head around to the spot where the eastern switchbacks rejoin the main trail. The rest of us proceeded at various speeds to climb the western switchbacks. Rob, the racer, was the first to make it to the top. I was in hot pursuit, but once again, I've proven to myself that I don't need to pay money to find out that there are some people faster than me and some people slower. At the top I grabbed the camera and snapped pictures of everyone as they crested the ridge.

I made my way down the eastern switchbacks behind Steven and Rob. When I got to the bottom I looked up and it was an inspiring scene as so many riders were descending the switchbacks at once. I thought to myself that it would be quite a site to see so many riders with lights at night.

We regrouped with the riders who had avoided the climb and waited for everyone to get to the bottom of the eastern switchbacks. Then, off we went, riding on the east side of the creekbed. At some point I managed to get out in front and rather than take my usual trail toward the gate at Goodan Ranch, I swooped in on another track and was so completely overjoyed. Fast, swervy singletrack that tested and encouraged good turning skills. There were a few stream crossings too.

We regrouped again at the gate, and then hit the double track leading up to the ranch house and then continued on the singletrack that runs to the west depositing us at the 4-corners of the main road. Several of us headed up "Cardiac" so that we could ride the downhill on the backside of Martha's Grove while the majority headed up the more direct route that doesn't have any payoff other than getting you to Martha's Grove trail faster.

We agreed to meet at the start of Martha's Grove Trail, but when our little group of four riders got there after a fast and fun downhill, no one was waiting. We didn't think that there was any chance we could have reached the gate before the other riders, but we waited a few minutes anyway. A family with small children took off hiking up the trail and then another large group of riders that was resting at the gate took off. Rather than have the hikers make way for two separate groups of riders, we followed on the tail of the other group. Once at the top of the first climb, we encountered two of the other riders in our group who informed us that the rest had gone on ahead. We continued the ride down Martha's Grove Trail and rode without stops, except for a brief moment at the gate at the south side of Goodan Ranch.

We hit the high trail on the west side of the creek, but there were a few spots where trees had fallen onto the trail. None of us had more than a nail file and the trees were too big to move by hand, so we climbed over the obstacles (none of us being trials riders), and continued on our way. By this point my legs were starting to cramp, probably as a result of the New Year's Eve drinking I did. By the time we made it back to the parking lot, my legs had cramped so bad that there was a stretch where I needed to walk because I couldn't power through the pedal stroke.

Once back at the parking lot, bikes and gear was quickly stowed and people departed for points unknown. Our two-and-a-half-hour ride had taken almost 4.5 hours and covered over 38km.

Props to Cal Coast Bicycles

2008-12-31T10:38:00.000-08:00

Over the years I have dealt with several local bike shops as well as national chains and web merchants. Some of the LBS' have been very hard to deal with. The national chains offer great prices and adequate customer service and the web merchants, well, they're web merchants and have ranged all over the place. But my experience this past year with Cal Coast Bicycles has been extremely positive.

I went to Cal Coast because they are the only local dealer for Ibis, and when I was looking to buy my Mojo SL, I didn't have much of a choice. The entire purchase experience was great. The bike was built up and ready in a day, and they have supported me every step of the way.

When my XTR rear derailleur went out, they offered to give me an XT swap while they were waiting to hear if Shimano would cover it or, when I suggested that they replace it with an XTR and I would pay them and they could just refund me when positive news came from Shimano, they said OK, but would only charge my CC if they heard back from Shimano that the part wasn't covered.

Then, most recently, my Crank Brothers Jopelin-R seat post died. In the period between sending it off to Crank Brothers, they gave me another Jopelin seat post so I could keep riding. When I went to pick up the repaired seat post on 24/Dec, they were actually closed, and had been for about 2 hours, but someone was there and was kind enough to go through the trouble of turning off the alarm, unlocking the store and exchanging the seat posts.

Finally, yesterday, I returned to the store because I was uncertain how to adjust the seat post cable as well as pick up the new Lopes Link for the bike. I decided to just have them install the Lopes Link, expecting to pay for the service. But, when I got the bike back, there was no service charge! Awesome.

Cal Coast also price matches, so I'm never going to pay more than I would at one of the web merchants. And even though I don't get the "10% back" on top of the price match that I would get at that big national chain, the fact that they didn't charge me for the service will keep me coming back for years to come.

Way to go Cal Coast.

Very DIsturbing...

2008-12-29T22:16:00.001-08:00

Wow, I haven't been on my MtB since the 30th of November. That's pretty scary! I guess the rains can be blamed for some of it, and the Crank Brothers Jopelin-R seat post that was in the shop for repair for a around two weeks can be blamed for some of it too. But in reality, I've just been a sloth and haven't gotten off my ass to get out there. I'm off all this week and it seems to be drying out a bit. I've got the seat post back and just need to put it on the bike, mount the seat and run the cable to the handlebar and I'm set.

On a somewhat related note, I'm really bummed about the undesired and unexpected destruction of a NiteRider HID bulb that fell off my road bike after I went over some railroad tracks. Fortunately, even though the light head was sitting in the middle of the road, no one ran over it. I'm gonna have to beg NiteRider to replace the bulb because right now I can't afford to buy a new one and it's still to dark outside to ride home from work without a really good light.

Palm Canyon 30/November/2008

2008-11-30T22:15:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned in my previous post, a string of errors on my part lead to a fortuituous meeting with Mary and Brendan Collier of Siren Bicycles in Idyllwild. They had already scheduled a Sunday morning ride at Palm Canyon for which they kindly invited me to participate. I was extremely happy to accept as it meant the possibility of riding a new trail with some great riders.

On Sunday morning, I woke around 6:30 again, grabbed some breakfast and headed up the mountain to gain some cell phone service. Once in Idyllwild, I stopped to buy some coffee and discovered that I had a message from Mary about meeting at their place around 8. Fortunately, I had 20 minutes to spare, so I grabbed a coffee and called her back.

After directions to their home, and morning greetings, I went about getting myself ready for riding. The chain needed to be lubed and since I wasn’t going to be driving, I needed to ensure that I had everything I needed out of my car. The past few days were ones of less than average organization, so the search was on to dig out all the necessary items from the back of my car. Fortunately, much of my riding kit is already organized in bags stuffed into a duffle, so I grabbed one of the sacks, ensured that everything needed was inside, and then set to finding the doodads and other items I’d want on the ride. It was quite chilly, but since we were going to be heading into Palm Springs, which had been quite warm the day before, I left the warm clothes in the car.

While I was getting my stuff together, another rider, Dave, showed up. Again, greetings were passed around, and I continued about my work. With everything finally collected from the depths of my car, Brendan attempted to load my bike into the rack on the roof of his car, but the disc brake wouldn’t allow for a fit. We thought about removing the rear wheel and stuffing it into the back of Brendan and Mary’s car, but in the end we decided to load it into the rack on Dave’s Truck.

As we were putting the bike onto his car, the rest of the riding crew arrived. I was introduced to Bill, Randy, Carol Ann and Brett. After some chit-chat, a brief disappearance by Brendan to pick up some stuff at the bike shop, and a stop at the local ‘grocery store’ we were on the road to the trailhead.

We pulled into a parking lot on the north face of Santa Rosa Mountain, unpacked everything from two of the cars, emptied ourselves of the coffee we all had invariably been drinking (the plants in the area probably hadn’t received so much nitrogen rich fluids for some time) and Dave, Brett and Brendan left us to deposit a sufficiently capable number of vehicles at the bottom of the hill.

Those of us who were left settled into a socially comfortable circle on the asphalt and chatted about this and that. I couldn’t help gawking at the three beautiful Sirens that lined the wooden fence. It was decided at some point that as a joke, Mary would swap the break levers on Brendan’s bike. Bets were placed as to how long it would take him to notice the sabotage. After about an hour the guys made it back from Palm Springs and we readied ourselves to ride.

Brendan hadn’t more than straddled his bike before he figured out something had happened. Lazy and good natured accusations and recriminations were made, but Mary quickly confessed her culpability and a good laugh was had by all. The break levers were quickly returned to their normal locations and we headed out.

The beginning section of the trail we rode is called “Pinyon Flats Loop” and this section was a glorious introduction. Fast rolling singletrack with plenty of turns and mildly technical segments to keep us on our toes. The decomposed granite trail was tacky from the rain just three days before, which made the trail that much more fun. From the ridge top, the views of the endless canyons below us was breath taking. While there were plenty of spiny plants near the trail, at this point in the ride they were, for the most part, invisible because of the speed and the beauty of distant hills and valleys. Finally, we descended off the ridge via a series of seven sharp switchbacks that had dropped us several hundred feet. Although we didn’t do Pinyon Flats Loop as a loop, it was at the bottom of these switchbacks that Brendan and Dave pointed out where we would have zigged instead of zagged if a loop had been our goal.

We ended up waiting at this intersection for some time as one of our compatriots repaired a flat. Once he was down, he mentioned something about missing knobies from the tire, but I didn’t pay much heed to his attestation, assuming a minor rather than major issue. It would only come to bear later in the ride that the front tire had insufficient structural integrity to actually be used on a ride of such proportions.

We continued on our way, now surrounded by high canyon walls, with thorny plants closing in on our trail. I was the only one in the group wearing elbow and knee & shin guards so I was mostly oblivious to the flesh tearing spines that hid behind the soft leaves on the thickets of Acacia greggii, commonly known as “Cats Claw”. While we were stopped for one of the innumerable flat repairs, I looked around and saw that everyone except for me had bloody scrapes and scratches on their legs and arms. Dave was particularly well scratched with trickles of dried blood sticking to his shins and calves. I still haven’t gotten over feeling foolish for wearing so much protective gear when I ride, but to see the degree of flesh that had been left on the trailside spines, I was glad for my foolishness.

In addition to the Cats Claw, there were cacti of various sizes and shapes to enforce good bike handling on the narrow ribbon of exposed DG that swelled up and down the lower portion of the canyon walls. Even without touching these enforcers, the structural integrity of the tire mentioned above continued to bear witness to the need to always ride with properly maintained equipment. It would no sooner be repaired than it would blow another tube. There was a concern that we would not have enough spares tubes or patches to get us down the canyon.

We made it to a large rock and stopped for a snack. Brendan had been waiting to spring a surprise treat on the other riders – crackers and oysters – which seemed to be enjoyed by everyone, although I must say that the smell was a bit antagonistic to the Chocolate Builder Bar and banana I was enjoying. After a the snack, and the fifth flat repair, we continued on. The sun was low in the sky, producing a beautiful alpenglow on the golden desert flora.

Shortly after starting, and after throwing almost every tube we collectively carried at the problem, the offending tire flatted again. At this point, the sixth flat, the decision was made to attempt to shore up the sidewalls of the tire with wrappers, paper, and any other item that might help the situation. Carol Ann and I decided to ride forward, leaving Brett, Randy and Bill to repair the flat. Brendan had turned around and ended up returning to help with the flat.

By this point, I was experiencing some difficulties with my Joplin R seat post. It wouldn’t stay extended. While it was fine on the descents, it made the uphill sections much more difficult as I couldn’t get good leg extension and I was a bit too fatigued to ride every uphill section out of the saddle.

Carol Ann and I met up with Mary in the wash, which we then had to ride. With my seat now fully lowered, it was all I could do to keep my legs spinning fast enough to not lose too much ground as Mary and Carol Ann with seemingly effortless pedaling made their way through the sand.

We finally came across a sign stuck in the sand that pointed us to the north, where we immediately noticed Dave sitting patiently, enjoying the buzz of endorphins, exertion, the natural beauty of the surroundings and the tetrahydrocannibinol that was flowing through his brain. We all chatted for a while until Mary recommended that Dave and I continue on our way down the singletrack while there was still light. She and Carol Ann would wait for the others to arrive and instead take the shorter route through the wash to the dirt road.

Dave and I departed with good wishes for a safe ride passed around to all of us, and we were quickly enjoying some sweet singletrack. I was still physically bothered by the lack of leg extension, until Dave recommended that I raise the seat post housing. Duh! I felt a bit silly for not having thought of it myself, but the extra two inches made climbing so much easier. On the other hand, the descents seemed a bit more awkward as my center of gravity was much higher than I’ve been used to since getting the Joplin R.

We quickly made our way to the dirt road, descended rapidly to the community below and rode the asphalt to the shuttle vehicles. Once there, we stretched and chatted and the decision was made to buy some beer. I stayed behind to watch the bikes and Dave returned quickly enough with a tasty 12-pack of brews. I’m not much of a beer drinker, but I can say that the cold, salty taste was just perfect.

It was now very dark. Dave had covered his proverbial you-know-what by calling his wife to tell her he wouldn’t be back until after 8, and we settled in to wait, expecting that the offending tire would ultimately result in the need to walk the bike down the hill. We were pleasantly surprised to see a mass of bicyclists entering the parking lot only a few minutes later.

Bikes were loaded, beers were consumed, hugs and handshakes were given, and we were soon on our way. It was a great day, a great ride, with great company. Lessons were learned and friendships strengthened. It just doesn’t get any better than that.

Pathfinder Ranch to Idyllwild on the road

2008-11-29T11:00:00.000-08:00

I went to the California Men's Gathering at Pathfinder Ranch over the Thanks Giving weekend. On Friday night there was a dance which I ended up co-DJing and even though I expected to be up early in the morning, I was up until well after midnight. So, on Saturday morning when I woke at about 6:30 I was still a bit groggy. I spent about 10 minutes rustling through my things trying to find all the clothing I needed for a ride in the chilly mountain air while trying to not wake the people who were sleeping in the dorm.

After locating all the clothes that I should have organized the night before, I headed to my car where my road bike was sitting patiently in the roof rack. Before I could ride, I had to clean the chain which had gathered enough dirt from the previous week's riding to seem a bit stiff. After cleaning and lubing, I plugged in the ear phones and headed down the road.

When I arrived the on Friday evening, I had gone the wrong way on highway 74, and made a round-about trip through Hemet rather than the more direct way through Anza. However, it was rather fortuitous as I decided to head up the 243 to Idyllwild before going to Pathfinder Ranch.

Just as I was driving through Idyllwild I saw Mary and Brendan Collier of Siren Bicycles. I had followed Mary's adventures on the Tour Divide race. There wasn't any real reason that I looked forward to reading about her daily exploits on that Canada to Mexico race other than that she was the only one from SoCal, so it was like rooting for the "hometown" team. Anyway, I had emailed her about a month before to inquire about riding in the Idyllwild area and her reply told me to contact her closer to the date I'd be in the area. However, when I did that, I didn't receive any reply. I don't know if it was because of troubles with my email account or because she just didn't reply, but seeing the two of them walking down the road made the communication about riding a bit easier if not forced. Had I not gotten stuck in traffic in Temecula and gone way out of my way, I wouldn't have seen them, so I'll thank my rationalization that since Idyllwild was north of Temecula, that I should take Highway 74 North rather than the 371 to 74 South.

We went to a coffee shop to chat and get to know one another. There was going to be a MtB ride on Sunday with some of their friends from Orange County. We exchanged phone numbers and I headed down the mountain. As I drove down, I became aware that past the obvious altitude difference between Idyllwild and Mountain Center at the intersection of Highways 74 and 243, there was an elevation change from the lower Mountain Center to the Keen Camp Summit and then a several mile elevation change from Keen Camp Summit to Lake Hemet.

So, when I got on my bike Saturday morning, I wasn't actually looking forward to the long climb from Lake Hemet to Keen Camp Summit that would be followed by the climb up to Idyllwild. But, I had about 13km to go from Pathfinder Ranch before I got to start climbing, and the road undulated sufficiently to warm my legs up fairly quickly.

The climb to Keen Camp Summit reminded me of climbing Torrey Pines, except that there is almost no shoulder on the road so, I kept watch in my mirror for cars that might cut the corners a bit tight. After I made it to Keen Camp Summit, it was a fast zip down to Mountain Center and then the real climbing started. Except, while it was 5 miles of solid non-stop climbing, I felt like it wasn't very difficult. Sure, it was a grind, but there never came a time where I felt like I needed to stop to rest.

I made it up the hill and to the coffee shop in Idyllwild in a bit over one hour. I sipped a coffee and skimmed through the front section of the newspaper (almost everything in the LA times I had read the day before on the internet which makes me wonder why anyone would read a newspaper anymore.) After about an hour, I decided it was time to head back to Pathfinder Ranch and the California Men's Gathering.

The descent from Idyllwild to Mountain Center was fairly fast. Being on a bicycle I was able to take the turns much faster than the car that I spotted several times in my mirror, so I took the entire lane for myself and swooped into the curves with some gusto, although muted because of cracks and crazes in the tarmac left me uncertain if something might grab my wheel and spill me onto the road.

The climb from Mountain Center back up to Keen Camp Summit was a bit slower than I had expected, but I made it without trouble. Then came the best part of the ride. From Keen Camp Summit down to Lake Hemet was fast and for the most part without sharp curves. I managed to hit 75.3 km/hr, which is the fastest I've ever gone on my bike.

The undulations from Lake Hemet back to Pathfinder Ranch seemed more uphill than down, and when I arrived, breakfast had been over for about half an hour.

Bike Routes on Google Maps!

2008-11-27T12:12:00.000-08:00

You know that Google Maps will get you from place to place by car, but what about by bike? If you think Google Maps should include bike route information, please sign the petition at http://www.petitiononline.com/bikether/petition.html

MtB Skills Clinic - 2008-11-15

2008-11-15T17:07:00.000-08:00

I organized a Mountain Bike Skills Clinic for 15/November through the Southern California Mountain Biker Boys and GayOutdoors.Com. So many people said that they were interested, but when the shit hit the fan, only five of us showed up. It was still a great event, and in actuality, the number of students was just right. It appeared to me that everyone who attended got something out of it to make the modest cost and time committment worth while.

I arrived a bit early at the appointed spot and waited for everyone to arrive. Jake pulled in soon after I did followed by our instructor, Julius Syvanen, then Bill S and Jim H. We waited around for the one remaining person, Peter D. It turns out Peter had been there for about 10 minutes before he started asking around for us. Since there were other people using the spot as a starting point for their rides, I just assumed he was waiting for someone else to meet him. But as soon as he asked some other guys if they were there for the skills clinic, I approached him.

Bill and I have both been riding for 15-20 years. I'd put Jake in the "Intermediate" range, Jim in the "Advanced Beginner" to "Intermediate" skill level, and Peter, has been in the saddle for only a month.

From there, we moved to the actual starting point of the ride, got our bikes set up and Julius started his lecture on center-point balance on the bike and using weighting to turn the bike rather than turning the handlebar. We all practiced on the dead-end street for about 15 minutes before heading off to the trail.

The trail started off with a downhill, which I blasted down, enjoying the opportunity to catch some air on several small jumps. We continued down a trail I used to know as "Cobble 2" until we got to the duck pond near "Shits". It was decided that we would do some technical uphill sessioning while we were all still fresh and the weather wasn't too hot.

We practiced going up a sandy, rutted, steep incline with an obstacle in the middle. Bill climbed it without any problems. It took me several attempts, but I finally made it past the obstacle and some distance further up the hill. Everyone else gave valiant efforts with varying degrees of success. It certainly wasn't an easy climb. The wheels would slide in the loose sand or lose traction, or the gearing we'd set up would be wrong. Regardless, everyone learned some important skills at that early stage of the clinic's ride.

After the climb sessions, we headed down to the canyon's main road and then up Powerline. Once we climbed to the top of Powerline, we headed to Tunnels. After a brief introduction to some additional skills, and pointers on our riding techniques, we started descending into Tunnel #3. This was the first time for everyone except for myself (and Julius), and the common refrain was "I'll be riding here more often".

We rode down Tunnel #3 (also known as "Rocking Horse" for the old wooden rocking horse hanging from a tree at the top of the trail.) and then emerged in Deer Canyon. After more pointers and tips, and discussion as to whether we were tired or wanted to keep going, we opted for the longer long loop back to the cars. The loop took us on some nice singletrack through Deer Canyon and then back into Tunnels, which we climbed back to the mesa top.

We rode some fairly technical trails, and I was pleasantly surprised by Peter's dedication, willingness to push his limits and the ultimately, by his strong abilities on the bike. It definitely wasn't an easy ride--there were significant challenges in terms of technical features (sand, loose rocks, narrow steep trails, etc.)

After the clinic, Jake, Julius and I went out to lunch (of course, everyone was invited, but other obligations called the others) where the conversation frequenly veered into the realm of socio-political analysis (Julius is currently a student of Political Science/International Relations at UCSD, and I have an MA in Political Science from UC Irvine and did my undergraduate degree at UCSD.) Jake seemed a bit bored by our rantings, but the food was good no one seemed anxious to leave.

[Updated] Another Rush!!

2008-11-12T20:42:00.000-08:00

Updated: Link to the video of my jump

OK, this post isn't about mountain biking, but it's about something just as exciting. Today [26/October/2008] I went skydiving! It was an absolute blast. I took my son for his 19th birthday and enrolled us in the Accelerated Free Fall solo jump course at Skydive San Diego. My dear friend Beth from Martha's Vineyard came along with the intent to do a tandem jump. Due to concerns about her knee she decided that she didn't want to jump, but after watching how smooth and soft the landings were for several dozen other people, she decided to do the tandem jump after all.

We started out early in the morning, leaving Encinitas at around 6:30am and arriving at the Otay Lakes site just a little before 8am. Our course was scheduled to start at 8, but as was to be expected, there was paperwork to do and after waiting for late arrivals, so we finally got started with ground school around 9.

Once we got going, ground school went pretty fast with only 6 people in the class. We learned hand signals that the in-air instructors would be giving us. We also learned the correct position for free fall, how to control the chute once it was open, the mechanics and parts of a parachute and how to recover from possible malfunctions. It was a bit awkward, in my opinion, that the last 45 minutes of the class were about possible malfunctions, rather than ending the class on a more positive note by burying the unlikely malfunctions in the middle of the class.

We also spent a good amount of time going over the airplane exit procedures and body position. The all important "arch" was drilled into us from the moment we got into the classroom.

My son and I were the first to practice the exit procedure with an actual chute on. Man, they were a lot heavier than I would have thought, and after twenty minutes with them on, my shoulders were screaming.

The instructor had us lay on the ground to practice the free fall arch position, while he came around to check whether we were "relaxed" enough and in the right position to allow him to flop us around. With the chute still on, it was not easy to keep in a good position. I was really glad when he told me to let someone else try on the parachute.

After the ground school was finished, we sat around and waited to be manifested on a plane. This was one of the points where Skydive San Diego appeared to be unorganized, at least for the uninitiated. After about an hour of waiting, I decided to ask what the deal was, and was told that we'd be jumping around 3pm. With about 90 minutes to spare, I decided that we should head off to East Lake Village to pick up some lunch (since the only food that they had on site were burgers and pizza, neither of which was very enticing to me. My son decided to order a specially made sushi roll, and the fellow making it was about as slow as he could possibly be and still make progress. After about 10 minutes of making the roll, we were back on the road, and another 10 minutes later we were back at the drop zone.

Just as we got back we heard my son's name being called over the loud speaker and he rushed to get a jump suit, parachute and then kitted up.

Fortunately, we were all manifested on the same plane, but while Hakan was suited up and ready to go, there was no one who seemed to be able to provide any information about me or Beth, other than that we were all on the same plane.

After a while, with only about 20 minutes to go before we were supposed to load up into the plane, someone one of my in flight instructors finally showed up and got me kitted up. After suiting up, he ran me through the exit and jump procedures one more time, and then told me to go to the waiting area. Beth took one more picture of Hakan and I before we headed out to the plane, a twin prop Otter.

On the walk out, our camera flyers (I bought the "delux video package" for both of us) filmed us and asked us how things were going.

Once on the plane we took our seats, somewhat crowded together, with Beth all the way at the front of the plane, Hakan a few spaces further back, and I was somewhere in the middle of the plane. I had one of my in-air instructors to my right and one across the isle from me.

As we climbed, the in-air instructors asked me what I would do at the specific altitude we were at. At 5500' I told them I would pull the rip cord. At 6000' I told them that I would wave off and reach for the rip cord. It was at that point that all the training seemed to disappear from my head. When they asked me what the different hand signals meant I couldn't remember "Circle of Awareness" (checking the altitude on the altimeter and scanning the horizon.) I recovered my composure, but felt very awkward for having forgotten something so basic.

When we got to 13000' they opened the door and people started jumping out. Very quickly the back half of the plane was empty and it was my turn. One in-air instructor positioned himself outside the airplane and the other just on the inside.

I shouted "Check In" to the instructor inside and "Check Out" to the outside instructor, each responding with "Check". I looked down but VERY quickly decided it was best to just look forward at the propeller and wing. I then ran through the three steps: "Drop" (lowering my shoulder so I was no longer wedged in the doorway), "Prop" (I continued to look forward at the propeller), and "Jump" (stepping out of the airplane). Strangely enough, just writing this has caused my heart to race and give me butterflies in my stomach.

As I started to fall, I could feel the turbulance of my body and tried to figure out how to make them stop. Then, one of my instructors shook me, reminding me to relax and arch. I did so, and all the turbulance stopped and the free fall felt very smooth.

They ran me through the different skill checks (altitude awareness, practice handle touches, more altitude awareness) and kept telling me to straighten out my legs. They were giving me hand signals, to do all this, which would have been much better had I been aware of what it would be like because they seemed to be in the periphery of my vision rather than easily seen. Of course, everything was in the periphery of my mind at this point with the exception of falling. I checked my altimeter and we were at 7000'.

The next thing I knew one of the in-air instructors was telling me to pull the rip cord. I reached down, grabbed the handle and threw it as I had been taught. My in-air instructors were quickly gone below me as my chute opened, leaving me by myself.

The parachute had opened properly and I grabbed the toggles and tested out turning to the right and turning to the left, and then finally flaring to slow the parachute down.

I looked down below me and the ground was quickly approaching (all though, not nearly as fast as it had been when I was free-falling at 120 miles per hour.) I turned this way and that, experimenting with the way that the parachute worked, enjoying myself as I watched the ground approach.

When I got to 1000', I started working my way down the air strip as we had been instructed, turning to cross the airstrip at 500' and then heading into the wind at 250'. At this point I heard a crackle on the radio instructing me that I was doing great. As I approached the ground the voice on the radio told me "not yet", "not yet", "not yet", "not yet" and then finally "Flare". I was about 10' feet off the ground and I pulled the toggles all the way down, bringing me to a very soft landing.

I gathered up my parachute and headed back to the waiting area. I was looking for Hakan and Beth as I walked, and just as I got to the fence, Beth and her Tandem Instructor came floating down. Beth had a smile on her face that was so big, it extended past her ears! I still didn't see Hakan anywhere. There was only one more person descending, and I figured that had to be him. He too made a perfect landing.

I dropped my parachute off, got comments on my jump from the in-air instructors who gave me my log book, and decided right then and there that I was going to continue on toward my A-Licence (25 jumps).

We chatted on the way back to Encinitas, everyone was thrilled, excited and stimulated. I feel like I've embarked on a new adventure that will keep me engaged for a long time.

Of course, I still have Mountain Biking, so when I'm not jumping out of planes, I'll be riding single track. Now, if I can just figure out a way to combine the two... :)

Glaciers

2008-11-05T15:51:00.000-08:00

It sure would be nice to see some thaw happening in the gears of county and city management with respect to the San Diego Mountain Biking Association/National Mountain Bike Patrol. But, we might see the end to several glaciers around the world before anything in government happens.

I spoke with a representative from the county before I went to Moab in the beginning of October and she claimed that she was unable to get the ear of her boss to talk about the NMBP and the coordination required to make a viable alternative across county and city governments for us to volunteer without needing background checks and orientations for each park and city and the county itself. Now, almost 5 weeks later, she still hasn't been able to meet with him. It's no wonder so little happens.

I have also tried to contact the trails coordinator for the city of San Diego about 10 times. He returned my call once and left me a message. I've left my cell and home phone number and email, but I'm getting frustrated. On top of that, he's not even the person I need to deal with, but is supposed to be able to point me in the right direction.

On a more positive note, CNLM, which manages La Costa, Flightline and Calaveras is very interested in having us patrol, but I'm caught in that loop of the person I am talking to has to talk to someone else who probably has to talk to someone else and then the chain flows back. I'm waiting for a call back right now...

Maybe we'll have a patrol going by 2099 :(

2008-11-01 La Costa Conservation Area

2008-11-02T13:27:00.000-08:00

Jake and I were expecting to be joined by some others, but as it was, we had the whole trail to ourselves as we started the climb up the switchbacks. I was a bit apprehensive about the ride because I forgot to bring my guards, so I didn't push the limits as much as I would have had I been wearing them.

We climbed the switchbacks in pretty good time. Since this was Jake's first time at La Costa, he was distracted by the views of Batiquitos Lagoon to the west. I have to admit, even though I've ridden La Costa many times, the view of the ocean is always a welcomed sight, not to mention that even on a warm, clear day, the ocean breeze keeps things cool and refreshing.

After climbing to the top of the hill, we jetted down the fire road on the other side, through the old green waste site and then up to the next water tower. I was feeling a bit slow, but I kept my pace as fast as I could. Jake wasn't far behind, and after a very brief stop at the top of the second hill, we headed back down. Just as we got through the gate, back into the conservation area, two other guys were going up hill. We sailed past them. When we got to the bottom, Jake commented about how he thought the downhill run seemed to be a shorter distance than the uphill, even though we rode the same trail.

We were quickly climbing back up the back side of the conservation area. I could really feel the strain of the climb in my legs, so I was glad when we got off the fire road and onto the little serpentine singletrack since it's much flatter. We stayed on the singletrack, crossing the road, and continued on our way down the southwest side of the hill.

On the way down, I encountered a pair of hikers. I politely pulled over to let them pass, motioning to them that they could continue on and saying that they had the right of way. The woman snidely remarked that no one else had ever stopped for her. I thought to myself, that while she may be right in her indignation, she probably had never come out to do any trail work, and that the trail we were on was built by mountain bikers and not hikers.

Anyway, as we reached the bottom and started on the short uphill section back to the Calle Sitio trail, Jake looked ahead and saw two riders going up the switchbacks and thought we were going to climb back up. He let out a loud "Oh Gyan" that was reminiscent of vocalizations I've heard during other pursuits, but I assured him that we weren't going to climb back up again. I don't think he trusted me, because he stayed put until, I assume, it became evident that I was heading on a flat trail and not upward.

Afterward, we enjoyed a nice conversation at my house while sipping cool water and watching some mountain bike videos.

24 Hours of Moab and Bartlett Wash 2008-10-11

2008-10-11T19:31:00.000-07:00

The trip is coming to a rapid closure, and I today is my last day for riding. Even so, I was a bit saddened by my loneliness as stayed in bed until about 10. I then decided I'd go off and check out the 24 Hours of Moab race because I was hoping that there would be a big vendor area and the opportunity to get gear at a discount.

I headed south out of town, knowing only that the venue was about 12 miles south of town. But, did that mean 12 mils south of Center St. or did it mean 12 miles south of the edge of the city. Regardless, I assumed it'd be well marked. As I drove south on Utah 191, I just happened to see a plastic ribbon strung to a bush and as I looked back in the mirror, I saw a sign that simply said "24". That was it. It seems like I wasn't the only one who missed the entry, as three other cars turned around with me at the turnout just down the road.

The drive from the highway to the actual venue was down a dusty dirt road. I was in a long line of cars, and when I finally made it to the entrance, I was required to cough up $10 to get in. I continued on, found a parking spot and walked around looking for a vendor area. Amazingly enough, there wasn't one. You'd think that with all the racers, biking families and other bike people, that this would be a great location to at least take orders for items, if not have a stock of various items to sell. But, the only ones who were really there in that regard were the light people (NiteRider, PrincetonTec, etc.)

The wind was whipping up all the sand and the entire area was like a giant dust cloud. Everyone who had a face mask or Buff or bandanna was wearing it. I saw the race get started and then I left to go do my own riding.

I drove north, wanting to ride at Bartlett Wash. I had seen some pictures and I was impressed by the steep bowls and interesting Slickrock formations. About 18 miles north of Center St. I found "Blue Hills Road" (some of the hills here really are "blue") From there, I navigated my way out to the parking lot and campground. I kitted up, as usual, alone, and started my ride. The ride took me through a stream bed and then up what appeared to be an unrideable incline (although from the tracks on the hill, it obviously does get ridden by some.

Unlike the "Slickrock Trail" just outside of Moab, this trail has no painted lines or cairns to locate in the distance. On the one hand, this makes the ride as free-form as you'd like. On the other hand, there was this nagging feeling like I was missing something because I didn't know where to go.

The wind was very strong although there wasn't the amount of dust in the air as there was at the Behind the Stones trail (24 Hour venue). I couldn't help feeling like I was climbing a very steep hill as I made my way horizontally along one of the stepped ridges that ran the length of the finger of slickrock. I zigged and zagged my way upward, always looking for areas in the stepped ridges where I could manage to manual up and over. In some instances I traversed almost the entire length of the finger to find a spot that I was capable of riding my bike to the next higher ridge. In other instances the shortest steps from ridge to ridge were very close, getting me closer to the boulders and trees that lined the top of the finger.

When I finally made my way to the last ridge, I discovered that the area with the boulders and trees was also covered with sand that somehow was very moist (I don't think it rained recently, but maybe it did last night while I was sleeping), and my wheels didn't really want to move through it very quickly. Plus, I was still fighting the wind.

As I made my way along this top ridge, in the direction from which I had started the ride, I noticed two riders making their way up the stepped ridges, but much less eloquently than I had--they just got off their heavy downhill bikes and lifted them up and over the steps. I turned around when I came to the end of the trail--a spot where it appeared that other riders had simply descended straight down the stepped face of the slickrock. Since I wasn't interested in trying my luck and skill on 100cm-150cm hucks, I decided that I'd chase after the two other riders and possibly tag along with them.

Even though we were on a trajectory that would bring us to the same space at the same time, and given how I made repeated attempts to show them that I saw them, they failed to acknowledge my presence even when we were all within just a few feet of one another. So, instead of meeting up with them and chatting and possibly riding with them, I navigated past them as they ignored me. At this point I was on a "flat" section of slickrock, past the finger and the wind was fierce.

I rode into the wind to the edge of the slickrock to find myself high above the sandy wash. I hadn't realized I was so high up, but when faced with what appeared to be a cliff, I decided I'd keep my distance. I turned and followed the countour of the ridge, but the wind was so strong that it was very difficult to keep the bike going in the direction I wanted. After a few hundred meters I decided to give up, and turned the bike in the direction of the wind. WOW! No pedaling needed. I was being blown across the slickrock, my back acting like a sail to the wind. The only time I had to pedal was when I needed to manual up a small step. When I got back to the finger area, I found a few really interesting dips and bowls to ride. One of the hills was so steep that I was a little scared to descend. But, I knew it was smooth and slickrock tacky, so I rode down. About half way down there was a change in the rock, with pockmarks all over the side of the steepest part of the hill. I lost my nerve, and it's probably a good thing, because the trajectory that I had been heading would have put me right in line for the largest of the pocks that might have stopped me and thrown me over the handlebars. To be honest, my leg still hurts and that's giving me some hesitation to try anything that's outside of my known ability level.

I played around on the hill for a while, but I was unable to actually ride back up. So, using the pockmarks as footholds, I walked the bike back to the top of the hill and then continued along the finger toward the place where I started the ride. At one point I was moving across a very steep slope and the bike slid on some sand. Fearing that it'd be a long slide down, I unclipped and tried to catch myself before I fell. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get my foot down. Fortunately, I was wearing my knee guards because landed squarely on my knee. My slide down the hill was avoided, my knee was uninjured and I was soon on my way.

The two other riders I had seen were already back at the parking lot when I got there. I tried to make conversation with them, but they simply grunted and moved out of view. Oh well.

I think Bartlett Wash might be a great place to ride when there's no wind, and if I make another trip to Moab in the future, I'll be certain to go back and explore more.

Gemini Bridges 2008-10-10

2008-10-10T20:16:00.000-07:00

Gemini Bridges sounds like one of those nice places to ride until you actually get started. The ride was listed as an easy ride that is usually done as a shuttle, but is also possible to do as an out-and-back. The out-and-back option also can be done from either the 'top' (where the shuttled riders start) to Gemini Bridges and then back, or from the 'bottom' (where shuttled riders leave a vehicle to take them back to the 'top.'

I started from the 'bottom' and rode up to Gemini Bridges. The going was on dirt roads the whole way, and as such the area in front of my wheels had very little of interest to keep my attention focused. There were a few good climbs, and at one point I was several hundred meters above the highway and could look out and see Arches National Park. Otherwise, it was a good excuse for exercise as well as a good way to get my leg moving after the Amasa Back incident two days ago.

As I was getting ready to ride, I was approached by a fellow who had shuttled with a large group. Unfortunately for him, he apparently forgot to bring the keys to the car that he left in the parking lot where I was kitting up. He offered me $20 to drive him 12 miles down dirt roads to get to where his keys were. $20 wasn't enough to eat up what would have been probably 2 hours of my time and a bunch of gas, so I declined his offer.

The Gemini Bridges, themselves, were pretty impressive. When I arrived I just saw this huge hole in the ground with a rope stretched across. Some climbers cinching gear and making modifications to their outfits, but I didn't hang around long enough to see anyone rapel down the hole. I rode my bike around on the slickrock field that was all around me, coming to the very edge of the canyon where I noticed that I was actually quite high above the canyon floor.

The ride back had a good portion of downhill, followed by a very steep climb before heading back down to the level of the highway. All the way back I kept thinking I would catch up with the group I encountered about 2/3 of the way to the Gemini Bridges. I did see them again, though they were waiting for a their shuttle car to return.

It was a pleasant enough way to get my leg moving again, but I wouldn't suggest this ride to anyone who is looking for excitement, technical trails or beautiful vistas.

Arches National Park

2008-10-09T13:38:00.000-07:00

Ok, my leg is still not 80%, although after icing it for much of the night and then hiking on it today, it's feeling much better. The major issue seems to be not from where I banged my leg but from the muscles that have had to compensate for the injured tissue.

Anyway, I had a pleasant time at Arches National Park. I stopped to hike at various points; not going far, but usually about a half-hour to explore the different rock structures. As I hiked here and there, I couldn't shake my thoughts free from a repeating pattern of desires. And everywhere I went, my thoughts were reflected back at me.

Amasa Back

2008-10-08T21:06:00.000-07:00

I was excited about riding Amasa Back. The drive there was beautiful, driving along the edge of the Colorado River. When I got to the parking lot, I took my time getting ready, but for some reason I forgot to put on my padded shorts.

It started out the wrong way...

From MtB

I should have walked, but I was feeling cocky, and it didn't look like it was undoable. But I was really not feeling in top form even from the start. The first fall didn't slow me down. On the second fall though, I slammed my thigh into a rock and there was a lot of pain in my quadraceps, But I could move and I could pedal, so I continued on anyway with the belief that I just needed to work out the muscle.

But, the pain never went away regardless of how hard I tried to ride. I did make it to the top of Cliff Hanger, where I struck up a conversation with some guys who were 'wheeling'. The view over the canyons around us was pretty incredible.

The ride back down was slow with lots of walking.

I returned to the hotel and iced my leg which made it feel much better. After some stretching, everything was moving better.

Slickrock

2008-10-07T17:46:00.000-07:00

Moab: The name means so much to Mountain Bikers across the world. Beyond the oft referenced Islamic connotations, it has other religious inferences.

Slickrock is Moab, but only to a small degree. Slickrock is just about anything but slick. It's grippy and tacky and if you slide on it you're doing something very wrong.

The jagged La Sal mountains, frosted with snow, were a powerful contrast to the flowing sea of rock that I was climbing and surfing.

Inclines that remind me of walls are possible to climb provided you are in the right gear and far enough forward over the bar to keep the front end from coming unglued from the rock.

There were very few people out when I was riding. On the one hand, it was nice because I could take pictures without getting riders. It was also nice to not have to wait for groups of people to ascend or desend. I ran into one group of about 8 people who were going very slowly. They said that they'd been out for 2.5 hours when I had been out for 1.75 hours, and they had more than half the loop left to do.

It was perfect weather for a ride. The sun was shining, but the air was crisp, even in the middle of the day. The average temperature according to my bike computer was 23° C.

Even though there wasn't a whole lot of climbing, with the exception of the hill in the picture, the ride was a constant up and down, and consistantly, steep in both directions.

There were a lot of places there I sabotaged myself by looking at something and thinking I wouldn't be able to do it. Although, on a several climbs I just powered it out and made it without any problem.

I have to thank Joe Lawwill for all the knowledge he imparted when I did the BikeSkills class. Without what he taught me in that class, I would have had a very difficult time riding both here at Slickrock as well as at Little Creek. It's amazing what a manual can do

Hurricane to Moab through Zion

2008-10-06T20:17:00.000-07:00

For some unknown reason, I had a hard time getting myself together to leave this morning. Between this and that, it wasn't until just before 11 when I finally got out the door.

I decided to take the advice that John and Steve gave me, and drive through Zion and then up the 89 to the 70 instead of driving the non-stop, cruise controlled I-15 to the 70. It was definately more beautiful in spots than I would have seen on the 15, but I feel the weight of the added driving time on me now.

Along the way I saw a sign for a rest stop and a hiking/atv "trail" (Paiute Side Loop), and I was feeling like I needed to get some exercise, so I got my bike together and set off up the dirt road. I expected it to switch to something a little more interesting, but it never did. It was just a big dirt road for ATVs. The only excitement was climbing up and up and up for 40 minutes before I turned around and headed for the car. It makes me realize that I'm not much of a downhill rider, because I was never shy about handling the breaks.

There was a bunch of snow at higher elevations which was cool to look at. I can only think that winter is going to come hard this year around here.

It was a good feeling to see signs for Moab and know I was getting closer. I easily found the hotel and checked in. Of course, even though I reconfirmed, they didn't have an upstairs kitchen unit. So, I'll move tomorrow.

Little Creek

2008-10-05T22:29:00.000-07:00

I met up with Russel, Steve and John, members of the Color Country NMBP, at Over the Edge Sports in Hurricane. We were soon moving down the road to Little Creek. After approximately 15 miles on a paved road, we turned onto a dirt road which lead us gradually upward onto the Little Creek mesa.

This was my first introduction to slickrock and I must say I enjoyed it. We were riding for about four hours over expansive oceans of super grippy rock and sweet singletrack patches of gritty soil weaving through small trees that unlike similar sized trees in San Diego don't bend. In fact, I managed at one point to run into what i thought was a 30cm high shrub that stopped me dead in my tracks. Fortunately, I was able to unclip fast enough to save my body from a hard landing.

Steve, originally from Ramona and then Julian, lead the pack for most of the ride. He was clearly a good rider with a lot of skill and practice in this terrain.

John was usually second and was most often in the gaze of my helmet cam. I shot video of the whole ride and have started to edit it. I'm going to make another music video out of it.

And generally bringing up the rear (and thankfully sweeping me back onto the trail the few times I lost it in the scrabble of rocks.

We rode out to the "North Point", snaking our way along the rim of the mesa, with incredible views, although it was generally recommended to keep eyes focused on the trail and not look out over the cliff. One medium sized error would be all it would have taken at some points to have found flight.

We stopped at a few spots along the rim to gnosh and talk. The conversation was pleasant and it was clear that this group of guys was not of the political and social pursuasion one is told to expect in Southern Utah.

From one of the places we stopped, it was possible to see Gooseberry Mesa in the distance. I'm told that Gooseberry Mesa is much more technical than the ride at Little Creek.

There wasn't a whole lot that was too technical, but it was still necessary to be on for the whole time. We rode waves of stone that had gaps and drops and steps. There were creek beds, and waterfalls and a whole host of great riding.

When the ride was finished, Russel passed around beers and gatoraide. I must say, a cold beer after a ride was very pleasant. I was slow packing up, but I didn't want to hold up the other guys who still needed to drive to Ceder City. So I bid them fair well, and continued packing and changing.

The drive back to the paved road seemed too take much longer than the drive in, maybe because I was able to focus on the scenery rather than the bumpy road.

I took several pictures that I want to stich together into a panarama, but I uninstalled the application a few weeks ago and I forgot to bring the disc with me.

Hiking in Zion

2008-10-04T19:16:00.000-07:00

Well, it wasn't much of a hike, but it was enjoyable to get out after sitting around all day waiting for the rain to stop. The sun was going down as I walked along the river, normally on a small ridge trail that ran on about 2m above the water line.

Hopefully the storm will blow over by tomorrow and I can get some riding in. Kind of silly to be stuck somewhere, paying for a hotel room, and have nothing to do. If I can't ride tomorrow, I'll go back to Zion and take the shuttle all the way to the end.

Sitting in the middle of Hurricane

2008-10-04T11:52:00.000-07:00

By the time I got up and got myself going, and then going here and there to buy the few little things that I wanted for the trip, I finally made it out the door and onto the freeway at 10:47am. I set the cruise control at 90km/h and settled into the right hand lane for the long haul to Hurricane, UT.

The trip would have been much better to do in the dead of night because at least that way I wouldn't be able to see that there was nothing to see.

Vast expanses of monotonous desert landscape stretched around me without even the suggestion of hidden treasures. The only interesting thing that I noticed were the areas on the freeway tarmac that had multiple skid marks going in every-which direction. There seemed to be too many skid marks to suggest that it had been a multi-car pileup, but on the other hand, the regularity with which patches of cement were dotted with black skid marks made me wonder.

I'm sold on the benefit of driving at 55 mph now more than ever. I left Encinitas with a half tank of gas. When I filled up again, I had gone 80 extra miles on a tank of gas from what I would have used had I been driving at 65. The first full tank of gas had gotten me to 225 miles on a half-tank. When I drove at 65 I would only have gotten to 150 miles on a half tank. It's also a lot less stressful than driving faster because I'm out of that "I'm trying to be first" mentality.

Anyway, I woke up this morning looking forward to riding and enjoying conversation with the Russel from the Color Country NMBP. Then, I rushed though a shower so I could grab something from the free breakfast before it ended. When I opened the door I was greeted with a San Diego winter day. It was cold and raining. Not a great way to start a vacation!

I grabbed some fruit and coffee, headed back to the room and called Russel and we agreed to meet up tomorrow for a ride. Hopefully this storm will blow over by then. Now, at around 1:30 in the afternoon, the rain has mostly ended and the sky is starting to lighten up.

Ready for Moab

2008-10-03T02:58:00.000-07:00

It's 2:58am on the 3rd of October. I've got everything packed into the car except the batteries that are still charging, the charger itself, my toothbrush and a few odds and ends that are already in a bag. I was thinking about just leaving now, but I still have a little bit of cleaning and some dishes to do before I can walk out the door. Plus, I'm very tired. So, I'm going to bed, and I'll just hit the road when I wake up.

Next stop: Hurricane, UT for two days of riding. I'll try Gooseberry Mesa and perhaps Thunder Mountain. I'll be meeting up with two of the patrol directors for the Color Country NMBP to learn about their patrol and see them in action as I shadow them as they teach a new patroller.

NMBP and the County

2008-09-29T21:35:00.000-07:00

Today I spoke with Cheryl Wegner from the County of San Diego about the SDMBA/NMBP and the ideas that I had for how we could work together. I was encouraged that the county is currently in discussions with the cities of San Diego and Chula Vista regarding how to synchronize their volunteer requirements for areas they jointly administer. I thought that they would have had to work out something like this long ago, after all, it's not like any one of them just came into existance.

In any event, I had a great conversation with Cheryl, and she liked the idea of creating a unified training program that included the appropriate information from each of the rangers and land managers concerning their parks.

I was not excited about her statement that some rangers would want patrollers to notify them a day in advance, but I suppose there's nothing wrong with it, after all, I generally know that I'm going to ride some place a day or two before I ride there. I guess my days of truly spontaneous riding are over (or maybe it just seemed like spontaneous riding and it was really just a weekly routine of multiple days riding in the same park). In any event, I guess we can notify the ranger ahead of time if there is going to be a patrol.

The major issue at this point is to get all of the agencies to agree on the same background check rather than requiring a background check for the county as well as each city. That could be costly and time consuming. I offered her the idea of a form which specified where the results were to be sent and that could include all of the appropriate cities, county, state and federal land agencies. Alternatively, we discussed the idea that whatever background check was the most stringent could be adopted and then make the county the source of the information. The county would then notify the viarious cities of the result. This, of course, would put a serious delay in the procedure as agreements were ironed out between the county and each city. I doubt that there will be a fight over which agency gets to claim the volunteer hours, but many things could bog this down.

P-Springing My Way Down The Freeway.

2008-09-29T21:26:00.000-07:00

Early last week, I called Cal Coast to ask about the P-Spring issue. The mechanic told me to bring the bike in and they would probably just swap out the derailleur and I'd be on my way. Well, since I was also having an issue with the handle bars coming lose on every ride, I thought I might as well have them give it a once over before I go to Moab. So, since I was going to be in the area from Friday night to Sunday evening, I thought I'd just drop if off at the beginning of my time in San Diego, and pick it up at the end of the workshop.

Well, the best laid plans are often ruined by other people, and in this case many different plans were sabotaged to the point of being useless. First, my carpooler couldn't make it early enough for us to get to the bike shop on Friday, so I had to take it in on Saturday. They took the bike in and sent me on my way, mentioning to stop in on Monday evening to pick up the bike.

So, tonight I headed down the freeway, ready to get my bike with visions of riding tomorrow evening after work because I wouldn't be able to commute on my road bike because I need to drop it off to get new tires. So, I skipped work about 20 minutes early and the freeway was empty. I dashed down to Adams Ave. in no time, walked into the shop and saw my bike still in the stand, the chain dangling from a string tied to the stem.

The bad news was relayed to me...They couldn't get in touch with anyone at Shimano because everyone was just coming back from Interbike. So, they had no authority to swap the part out as a warranty issue and weren't about to eat the cost of a new XTR Shadow rear derailleur if it wasn't covered. I was guaranteed that it would be resolved by Tuesday, and could I come back then...

What really sucked is that I was then right in the heart of rush hour, 25 miles from where I wanted to be, and I didn't have a gym kit or a book or a computer or anything else to occupy my time for 90 minutes. Then, to top it all off, I will need to go down there again tomorrow, which really sucks! Oh well, I just hope I don't get a call tomorrow telling me it's not covered! Then I'll really be pissed!.

2008-09-20 Sycamore Canyon Group Ride

2008-09-20T22:22:00.000-07:00

I know Ron. I know that Ron is always late. I'm usually late because I know Ron will be late. But for this ride, I got to Ron's house at 7:15 even though I told him I'd pick him up at 7:30, because it wasn't just the two of us who were involved in this ride. Bill R, Jake and Chris were also going to show up to ride, and a last minute addition, which I didn't know about until we got to Santee, was Gardner.

With a fire under Ron's cute little ass, I drank a nice cup of coffee and waited for him to finish all the stuff he needed to accomplish before we could leave. When all was finished, we were only 10 minutes late leaving his house. We jumped on the freeway and I did my usual of staying in the right hand lane and setting the cruise control at 90 km/h, and we chitted and chatted all the way to Santee.

When we arrived at 8:15, Jake and Gardner were already there, and comments were made about posts I had made about getting there at 8:00 sharp so we could be on the trail by 8:30. Yeah, yeah, at least we weren't getting there at 8:45...

We quickly went about getting bikes put back together and I changed my clothes and we were actually ready to go at 8:30. But Chris still hadn't arrived. Apparently he had called Jake when he woke up at 8, but was on his way.

When Chris arrived, he was quick to get moving since everything on his bike was ready to go after getting fixed up and tuned up over the past week. Well, everything except for the cleats on his shoes hadn't been swapped out after getting the new pedals. So, with a little bit of help, he was expeditiously clipping in to his new pedals and we were on our way.

Since I seem to often ride by myself, or ride with one other person, I'm not used to all the conversation that takes place on the trail. With six people, all at different skill, speed, fitness, endourance, and awakeness levels, there is a lot more time spent waiting at turns and at tops of hills to regroup (and to allow the tail of the group to recover) than I'm used to. It's not bad to socialize, but it does eat up a lot more time. But, since Ron's husband had been told he'd be back by noon and he carpooled with me, there was a certain level of unease on my part of knowing he'd be very late but not wanting to make it any later than necessary. After listening to all of my married riding partners 'complain' about how they can't just go off riding whenever and wherever they want to, or for as long as they want to, I'm starting to feel a lot better about being single.

This area is Gardner's back yard, so it was good to have someone to ask when I zigged us instead of zagging us. We quickly (although at the expense of energy reserves) returned to the correct trail and proceeded onward. After the power lines and the creekbed, we made the correct left turn and found ourselves climbing on the switchbacks up to the top of the ridge.

At the top of our first climb, I waited by myself for only a short time before 28 year old Jake summited. It's good that he showed up second, being the baby in this group of 40-50-somethings. I watched as the rest of the guys made their way up the switchbacks.

As soon as everyone had made it to the top of the climb, it became obvious to me that we were not going to do the ride in the 2 hour range that I'm used to doing it. But the conversation was pleasant, so I was enjoying myself with this very nice and growing group of guys. I must say, it's also nice to ride with a group of gay men because there isn't the expectation that I either "leave my sexuality at the trailhead and just ride" or that I make the guys feel uncomfortable by making statements about some cute guy.

Gardner, being the only straight guy in the group, may have felt out of place, but he certainly didn't show it and it felt very comfortable. On the other hand, he has a very fun-loving personality, so I hope he enjoyed himself as much as I was enjoying myself.

After continuing along the ridge road, we hit the singletrack that jogs around the side of the hill rather than requiring what looks like a less than exciting rocky climb up the fire road. From there, zipping around the hill we finally came to the singletrack that goes back down into the canyon via a large number of switchbacks. It was a lot of fun, and given that I'm now much more familiar with the trail, I'm able to do it a bit faster than the first couple of times.

At the bottom of the hill, I had the opportunity to look up and see the herd of riders slashing back and forth along the side of the hill. As the last riders in our group were approaching the bottom I spotted a rider at the top who was descending very quickly. He made it down the entire hill in the time that it took some of our riders to do two or three switchbacks. As he zoomed past our chit-chatty clan, I noticed it was Claus. He was engrossed in his music and almost didn't notice me. But, when he picked me out of the croud, he came to a screeching stop, pulled an earbud from his head and we talked briefly. Then, like a married man who needed to be home in a very short time, he zoomed off.

We took off, following Claus, but he was gone before we all got around the first turn. We stayed on singletrack until we got to the gate that marks the entry into Sycamore Canyon Preserve. At that spot we met up with three guys who knew Gardner from SDMBA, and also ended up losing Chris and Bill R. Bill had to get to the lumber store (we all know what kind of wood he was looking for) and Chris was complaining about having arrived on a plane at 1am (instead of 10:30pm). So, now our little group of seven took off past the old ranch and ranger station until we got to the road we'd take up to the east ridge of the park.

When we got there, Gardner was nowhere to be found, but someone had heard he was stopping over at the ranger station. I wasn't sure if that meant he'd be coming soon or if it was a cue to leave him behind, but I assumed the former, so we waited. Just as we were getting impatient, he ambled up and we continued on our way up "cardiac" hill.

Ron was the speed demon on the hill, followed by Doug, one of the guys we picked up at the gate. I came in third, and the rest followed at various speeds. When we were all finally at the top of the hill, we took off northward down the big dirt road. I zoomed ahead until I tried to change gears and something wasn't working right. I looked down and it was immediately obvious that my P-Spring tension had been lost.

Jake stayed there with me while the rest of the guys raced ahead. I have one of those SRAM chains with the nifty quick link, but to be completely honest, I've never been able to get them to come undone. Putting the link on is easy, but the other way around just doesn't seem to work. If there's a trick, I don't know it. So after fussing for a while, I got out the chain tool, broke the chain and fixed the P-Spring tension.

I put everything back together (fortunately, the right way the first time out!) just as Gardner and Ron came flying down the hill towards us. I packed the tools away and we all started the climb back to the trail that leads us to Martha's Grove.

The descent to Martha's Grove is always a fast, fun flying experience with a few ruts and sand traps added in to keep a rider's focus. Doug, Jack and their friend apparently had gotten lost and found us just as we were coming into the parking lot at the north end of the park.

We continued on from there, with me in the lead again, doing the fun that is Martha's Grove.

At one point I looked back and didn't see anyone behind me, so I pulled out the camera and waited until riders started to come around the corner. I snapped several pictures until I found myself near the end of the group. I then jumped on my bike. I saw Jake at the top of the left-hand branch of the trail--the one that goes to the ridable but eminently scary rock drop off. I called out to say I was coming through as it is definately not a place you want to stop and look. So I vaulted down the rock face, giving Jake an idea of how to handle this particular messy spot. Seeing me do it made him realize it could be done, and as he told it, he backed up quite a ways and took a run at it, but didn't stay far enough to the left of the face and had to jump off the bike. The only casualty on Martha's downhill was Gardner who had a nice looking scrape on his knee.

We jetted out of Martha's and made our way back to the gate that lets us out of the preserve and back onto the Marine Corps land. At the gate we encountered the park ranger and trail maintenance worker. I introduced myself and explained the patrol to them. They were both very enthusiastic about the idea which was nice. It was also rather nice that this really cute guy with blond hair spiking through his helmet came along giving us all a nice trailside fantasy for the way back.

Gardner bid us farewell at that point, leaving just Ron, Jake and myself to pedal back to the cars. Ron was worried that Oscar wouldn't talk to him for a week as a result of him not being on time, so we had to bypass the switchback climb and descent, instead rushing back by the easier route. Just about the time we got onto the fire road, past the jumps, my chain broke. But rather than deal with fixing it on the spot, I just ran and coasted until we got back to Mast Blvd. at which point I told ron to come along side of me, and I grabbed ahold of his seat and he pulled me down the road.

We loaded up, and drove back to Cardiff, Jake following in his Jeep. I dropped Ron off and Jake and I headed to Mozy's for lunch. The conversation was fun and the food hit the spot. We then went back to my place to chat, drink some ale, pray to the virgin Mary and just relax. I had so much fun that I can't wait to do it all over again.

National Mountain Bike Patrol in the works

2008-09-18T22:17:00.000-07:00

I'm working under the auspices of the San Diego Mountain Biking Association now to develop a unit of the National Mountain Bike Patrol.

This program, modeled on the National Ski Patrol, provides valuable services to the land mangers and trail users by being the eyes and ears and stewards of the land and providing information, as well as medical and mechanical assistance to trail users.

There is a lot to do before this gets off the ground, but I've got a good start and the support of SDMBA and especially from it's Vice President, Gardner.

2008-09-13 Daley Ranch Ride.

2008-09-13T16:24:00.000-07:00

Daley Ranch was covered with a low misty cloud. It was cool and perfect riding weather for the four of us (Jake, Brian, Chris and myself) to be riding in Escondido.

Jake had scheduled this ride for a 7:30 trail head departure. We had to wait a little while for Chris and Brian, but then they were joining us from San Diego, so they had a bit more of a commute. I didn't look at the time when we departed on what ended up being a 4:05 ride, but I don't think we were too late.

The other three guys had only ridden out there a few times, so I was able to show them a lot of cool runs that they had never been on, and I even took the single track that I recently heard about, making the trip novel to me as well.

We climbed up to the top of Stanley Peak and we rode, in actuality, almost the entire park from South to North and East to West. There were only a few missed trails.

Chris ended up having some mechanical issues, namely, he blew out his rear derreilleur and we needed to break his chain and set him up with a single speed for the last big climb from Bobcat up Cougar Ridge and then the rest of the way back to the car. He did great, actually improving his technique and riding abilities.

We went to lunch at Jimbo's in Escondido, spreading out hard earned money around town. Chris and Brian and I then went to Performance Bikes in Oceanside to pick up the parts that Chris needs to fix his bike. A bunch of money later, Chris was set with his replacements and parts and tools. I'm glad he sees the benefit of carrying tools now so that he can fix his own bike.

It's is really nice to ride with a group of guys who are fit and fun and love to bike.

2008-09-11 Peñasquitos ride with Andreas

2008-09-11T19:15:00.000-07:00

Andreas, or Andy as he goes by now, and I met many years ago as Scuba Divers. I was just starting out in diving and so was he. We dove together several times at La Jolla Shores and probably a few other places too. One zig for me and one zag for him, and it was like going swimming on opposite sides of a big kelp plant in coastal waters--you'll never find each other again. So, we fell out of touch for several years, mutually forgotten, until, that is, he pulled up behind me at Joe Lawwill's BikeSkills clinic. We saw each other again on the Indian Creek Trail while I was on the Mt. Laguna Great Outdoors camping trip. I was riding by myself, but had hooked up with a good rider, and he was riding with the DirtTreaders.Com group. After some mishaps with email, I was finally able to get registered at DirtTreaders.com and that's where I saw the info about the Peñasquitos after work ride.

I decided that instead of commuting on my road bike between home and work, I would instead drive to work, bringing my MtB and ride with him at Peñasquitos in the evening. After all, I have been saying that given the opportunity to ride for pleasure, I'd take a MtB any day over riding on the road.

We met at the agreed upon location and we were actually on the trail no more than a minute later than our 5:30 departure time. We rode to Wagon Wheel Crossing, crossed the creek and continued on the road until the first climb. Since I was in the lead, I took control of the route and headed up the hill. It's not an easy climb and Andreas' heavier bike and lower endurance level showed, but he made it to the top. He did comment though that he hated climbing. As we rode on, I asked him whether he wanted to go up further or down. He chose down. What I had failed to mention was that the uphill was about 30 feet and would have left us on top of the mesa, whereas going down meant that we had another longish climb to get back up to the same elevation.

That said, the downhill was fun. Once we got back to the main east-west trail, we continued until we hit Powerline and headed up to the mesa. From there, Andreas asked me if I wanted to do "Rocking Horse". Not knowing realizing that the name "Rocking Horse" was the tunnel trail that had an old rocking horse at the top of it. So, we zipped down. Andreas, far more familiar with the ride than I was faster on the downhill through all the twisted and slanting trees. I still get a little freaked out by how close I must be coming to hitting the handlebar on a tree. There were points, however, where I really felt like I was one with the bike and the trail and the trees and I was zipping through, keeping up with Andreas, and probably pushing him a bit.

We did a couple of loops through Tunnels and then headed back. By the time we got to the top of Shits, it was time to put on the lights. After a long fiddling around with putting the light mount onto the helmet, I realize how much faster it is to mount my light because I leave the mount on the helmet all the time.

We zipped through Shits and back to the car. I tried to do the jumps, but wasn't feeling positive about my skills so I didn't hit the launch with enough force and just rolled over the top. Maybe I'll take a class out in Moab on jumping...

All in all, a nice ride. I would probably have finished the ride faster than we did, but Andreas is a good strong rider who is only going to get better. With only 7 months of riding under his belt, he's very proficient. I hope we ride together more often.

Give ___ A Chance

2008-09-09T22:36:00.000-07:00

I'm sure everyone can fill in the blank on the title to this post and I bet most people would say "Peace". Certainly there are other possibilities, but the Lenin-Ono media campaign around "Give Peace A Chance" was a powerful enough cultural engine that the saying isn't foreign even if it wasn't your first choice.

It's not often that something happens when I'm riding my road bike that is new or novel or catches my attention except for the sight of the ocean as I commute down coast highway to and from work. So it came as a great surprise to me to see someone who didn't get appropriately aculturated. I have some choice words to describe my feelings toward this person, and lets say that the most appropriate term for how they come out of my mind is that they "spew". But, to hear them, you'll have to ask me personally. Anyway, this fellow in a small, low-end pick up truck passes me rather closely without any need to not give me some space. It was OK, but it made me look at the guy's truck window which had a several stickers. One said "NoBama" and another--the offensive one--said "Give War A Chance".

It's difficult to me to believe that someone could actually think that.

San Clemente Singletrack 2008-09-07

2008-09-07T14:56:00.001-07:00

I had spread the word wide that there was to be a group ride at The San Clemente Singletracks, complete with carpooling and a lunch at a brewery/pizzaria near the ride site. SDMTB, Dirt Treaders and Gay Outdoors along with several friends all got messaged. With this much coverage, I expected that I wasn't going to be riding alone. Rodney RSVP'd from SDMTB, Jake and Chris from Gay Outdoors and "Danimal" from Dirt Treaders along with two friends.

I had set up a couple of car pooling sites along the way. The first was at the La Costa Park & Ride near my house. I got there, but no one had RSVP'd that they were going to meet there, so, it was more just an exercise to see if someone would show up. At exactly 7am, I departed for the Oceanside train station where I was going to meet Rodney and "Danimal" and the two friends. As I was driving north I got a text from "Danimal" saying that there was some feelings of ill and a over abundance of training and work and that there would be no "Danimal" on the trails with us today. I guess the two friends couldn't ride if "Danimal" couldn't ride. But I was still expecting Jake, Chris and Rodney.

I sat at the train station, waiting, and when it got to be about 7:20 and no one was there, I started to think I'd be riding by myself after all. I called Rodney first, and he said he was just in a different parking lot from the directions I had emailed him, and he'd be right over. Jake sounded half asleep when I called, but told me he was planning on meeting us at the trail head. So, Rodney and I took off at 7:30 as scheduled, and headed north to San Clemente.

The ride was filled with new acquaintance communications of what and where and when. As a result, it seemed like we were in San Clemente in short order and navigating the back roads to get to a place I'd never been to before. Jake called for directions to the trail head which I read from my PPC. A soupy marine layer was shrouding our surroundings in a gray, moist cloud. It was too late to turn into the parking lot by the time I noticed the sign. I drove past the entrance to the parking lot did a loop at the end of the median and we were quickly parked and getting the bikes off the rack and oiling chains.

My phone rang and I answered it to hear Jake explain how he had left his shoes at home and would be back in 40 minutes (putting our ride about 20 minutes past schedule). Rodney and I agreed to wait. We checked out the kids riding Razors in the skate park, doing all sorts of cool tricks. We cleaned our bikes. We fiddled and focused on passing the time with activities instead of conversation. Jake and Chris finally arrived, a bit later than they said, but we could go on our ride so I was excited.

The Ride:

Elevation Profile

We started off the ride by stopping and chatting with someone who was just finishing his ride. After lamenting the loss of the secret status the trails had apparently held for the past 20 years, he gave us a quick idea of the layout of the park and a direction to head, even drawing a map in the dirt. Following what I remembered of his map, we zipped along on a fire road until spotting what I assumed was the singletrack he had mentioned. We veered left, grabbing the singletrack and immediately had to pull over because other cyclists were coming in the opposite direction. After they passed, we continued on our way, zipping through some really nice singletrack, over a bridge, through some gullies, and finally being redeposited onto the fire road we had started on, just further west. We rode the fire road down the hill until spotting another singletrack. I slowed to make sure everyone was still with me, then jetted down the singletrack. It was fun and fast, but not terribly challenging or scenic.

Along the way I got to watch someone recover, somewhat gracefully, from an endo. We both made it to a wash at the same moment. The wash had a nearly vertical slope requiring attention. Unfortunately, the other rider looked up, expecting to see me descending, but I stopped before entering. As usual, those moments in Mountain Biking that requires our attention and don't get it, are the moments where we discover more slapstick. Fortunately, the rider was unharmed; but we came to learn that this group saw the posting and could have come on the ride with us but chose to ride on their own.

After riding "No Turns" which was mostly a sandy trail at the bottom of the park, we ended up at a road and gate to the military base.

We took a trail we spotted in a wide graded area. Upon arriving at the top of this little climb, Jake was feeling the effects of youth and unfortunately succumbed to a headache and hamstring issues. He and Chris decided that they were going back via the road while Rodney and I headed down some singletrack that took us up a hill we both kept thinking must be primarily used in the opposite direction. We continued on this trail until it spit us out at the spot where we had originall stopped to ask for directions.

Rodney was a good climber with many years of experience on his cleats, and the sound of the bear bell clanging away right on his back tire made short order of the hill and we figured that we had probably made it up before Chris and Jake would be up. So, we decided to drop down the road and meet up with them. I knew about 100m in that there was no way we were going to see them, but I kept going until we got to the bottom of the hill and then turned around and went back. It was just to grab a bit more hill climbing on my part, but Rodney wasn't far behind.

When we made it back to the car, there was Jake and Chris sitting on the sidewalk, stretching and searching for some sort of headache relief. Of course, I had something in my first aid kit, so even though I was ridiculed as usual for having so much stuff in my pack, it sure was helpful. :)

After putting everything away and changing my clothes, we all headed off to Pizza Port in San Clemente for pizza and beer. We got a nice pitcher of Shark Bite Ale and a yummy pesto/artichoke heart/feta pizza. (The rest of them had it with small hunks of chicken flesh that they appeared to enjoy.)

We sat and talked about bikes and this and that until the mood struck us to depart. Rodney and I bid Chris and Jake a safe return, started down the interstate.

It was a nice day with non-technical singletrack and some nice well packed trails.

Bike Radar

2008-09-06T15:51:00.000-07:00

I've been impressed with British MtB media. I've been reading the magazine Singletrack and the Bike Radar blog and both have been really informative and well written. The stories and photography in Singletrack are engaging and intelligent. The information on Bike Radar on how to jump, ride, care for the body, nutrition, etc. are really good too. I recommend checking them out.

The Wheel is being rebuilt!

2008-09-06T15:10:00.000-07:00

I finally found a hub nut. In the end, I just bought a spoke for $8.00 and it came with the hub nut. The guy ended up giving me a spare shimano wrench. Turns out I will need to do a bit of research on building these wheels because apparently it's not the standard process. In the mean time, I said *fuck it* and decided to just take the wheel in and have it rebuilt. I just don't see myself having the time to do it today. It will take the shop about an hour, but it would probably take me double that or longer with only about an 80% chance that I'd get everything right. At least now I'm going to be able to ride tomorrow! So, I was driving away from the bike shop when I passed a guy on a tall bike. Here's what I ended up doing with the picture.

North of Nowhere

2008-09-04T13:24:00.000-07:00

I invited a friend to lunch with the hope that if I paid for her food she'd drive me to North of the Border Bicycles so that I could pick up the XTR Hub Nut. She agreed, so after eating an over-priced burrito at Wholefoods, we headed over to find the tiny little bike shop tucked away in the corner of a nondescript business park. It's not a place you'd expect to find a bike shop, and upon entering the store the first thing I noticed is that the space isn't set up to really be a showroom. But, they had the part I need, so what do I care if they're in a bad location.

When I walked in I saw a man in a mechanic's wardrobe in the back room. He walked out looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and greeted me. I assume that this was the owner of the shop who is also the salesman, mechanic and everything else. It's a pretty small space, so I can't imagine more than two people being in the stoe at a time. I told him I was looking for the XTR hub nut, and he instantly knew what I wanted and retreated back to the workshop to grab the part. I asked to use the bathroom, and as I pushed open the door, he asked me how many hub nuts I wanted.

I asked him how much they cost, expecting to maybe hear $1.50 since I could kind of tell that this shop wasn't a high-traffic/high-sales sort of place and I'd pay a premium. (Trek said that they should be about $0.80-$0.99 each). Instead the guy tells me that they are $5.00 each. What the fuck!?! $5.00??? I forgot all about needing to pee, certain that he was quoting the price for some other part. But he held up the bag and said, no, they were $5.00 each (he had two left), and that the reason the price was so high is because 'my buddy only bought one spoke from him and he had to order $100 in parts.'

Not having this part really screws with my riding abilities for the weekend. However, based on principal alone, there was no way I was going to give this guy $5.00 for a part that should cost less than $1.00. His attitude and blaming my friend for his lack of profit was unacceptable.

I won't be going back to that place.

Fixing A Wheel

2008-09-04T09:45:00.000-07:00

How hard can it be to fix a broken spoke. I've done it at least a dozen times. In fact, I've built wheels from scratch. I've got a professional grade truing stand. I've got a wheel dishing tool. I've got a spoke tensionometer. I've got every spoke wrench size. So, like I said, how hard could it be?

Well, it seems that if you've got XTR wheels, it can be quite difficult. Shimano decided that they would put a tiny little part called a Hub Nut. It's a tiny little part, about a half inch long that fits into a hole in the hub and is threaded on the inside. The hub side of the spoke screws into the Hub Nut and then because it's slightly flanged, causes the spoke to stay snug in the hub.

But it seems like none of the shops in San Diego has ever had to replace an XTR M975 spoke. I find it hard to believe that no one in the past year has broken a spoke, but that may be the case. One bike shop touted the strength and stiffness of the wheel and that he's never heard of a spoke breaking without some sort of impact. So, he has heard of a spoke breaking, but still, the shop he worked for didn't have the part available.

Dana had the same thing happen on one of our Nobel Canyon rides a few months ago, and he called the bike shop where he had his repaired (North of the Border) to see if they still had any of the hub nuts available. They said that they did. I'm hoping that it is in deed the same part. I've asked a friend to go to lunch today and will see if she can give me a lift over to the shop to buy the part. In the mean time, I've also ordered a pack of 10 from the Trek store (I suppose I could have ordered it from somewhere closer to me, but they were very helpful on the phone--much moreso than any of the other shops I called.

I certainly hope that I can get this silly wheel fixed by Friday night because I want to ride this weekend.

1/September/2008 - Good Intentions, Good Motivations, Bad Luck.

2008-09-02T12:58:00.000-07:00

Everything was all ready for a ride at Sycamore Canyon. The bike was on the roof, the clothes were packed, the camelbak filled with water and tools and snacks. All I needed to do was put on some street clothes, grab my keys and hit the road.

This was a Dirt Treader's organized group ride that was scheduled to leave at 8. Since I didn't know the group, I wanted to be early to put the last minute touches on the video camera and personal music, and this and that. I didn't want to be the limiting factor in the group's departure. Amazingly enough, I was heading out the door at 7am ready to jump in the car and make the 25 minute commute to the trail head. As I exited the house I noticed that a spoke on my month old XTR rear wheel was broken with just a 10cm stub sticking out of the rim. I figured I could still ride it, and then I'd stop in at a bike shop and grab a few spokes.

As I drove down the street, I heard a slap, slap, slap sound coming from the rear passenger side. It sounded like I had a flat tire, but it didn't feel like it. I pulled over, got out and looked at the car tire which wasn't flat at all, but there was a screw embedded deeply into the tire. With a 3/4 cm head, I'll assume that the screw itself was probably quite long. So, there went the possibility of the group ride, at least for me.

I took the car to the tire dealer. Fortunately, the one I wanted to take it to was open. The guy said it would take about an hour. So, I grabbed a book and headed to the coffee shop in the building across the parking lot. After an hour, I headed back. As I rounded the corner the guy waved at me like he'd been looking for me all over the place and asked me where the special lug nut bit was to remove the locking lug nut. It hadn't dawned on either of us that the mechanic would need this. The office manager said he went to the coffee shop but didn't see me (I was sitting at the table right next to the door). Anyway, excuse me for thinking that threre is a reason these guys are changing tires. To me, the most logical place to keep the lug nut bit is in the tool bag that hold the lug nut wrench, jack, etc. I've asked several other people and they all say that's where they keep theirs. So, the hour turned into an hour and three-quarters. At least they don't charge for the service. (I guess they figure I'll go back there when I need new tires.)

At this point I figured I'd just go and get my spoke. I drove down to San Diego to Cal Coast Bicycles (along with a price-match for some new 26x2.35 UST tires). I bought 3 drive side and 3 left side or front spokes. At $8 each, it was a bit expensive. And, to top it all of, they didn't have a crucial part: the hub nuts (little flanged threaded nuts that the hub side of the spoke threads into.) These tiny little things apparently get lost when the spoke breaks.) At first I thought Black Mountain Bicycles would be a good place to go--they tend to have parts and sell high-end bikes. But, it was Labor Day, and Black Mountain Bicycles was closed. Leucadia Cyclery was closed. REI didn't have the part. B&L in Solana Beach doesn't carry any MtB parts. By the time I'd been to all these places, I didn't have time to check Amazon Bikes or Mountain Bike Wherehouse up in Oceanside. I am pretty certain that I don't need to check at Performance Bicycles as they seem to only carry lower-end mass-market items, so the chance of them having an obscure XTR part is pretty slim.

So, Labor Day riding was a blow-out for me which really sucks. Now, I'm back to riding on the road until the weekend.

31/August/2008 La Costa Solo Ride

2008-08-31T21:57:00.000-07:00

After this morning's abbreviated ride with my son, I was still in the mood to pedal. The bike was still on the roof of my car, a fresh riding kit tucked away in a duffel in the back of the car, and my energy was high. I got in the car for drive over to La Costa. Everything seemed to be ready. After about 20 starts and stops as I fiddled with this and that, I jumped on the bike and was riding up the hill.

The temperature was cool enough and even though I was working hard something about the ride was very easy. There were technical sections of the trail that I seemed to be able to just climb like I never had been able to do before. I was on my Mojo and filled with it too. It was awesome.

I had forgotten my heart rate monitor, which usually means that I'm off my mark, but this time, I just listened to my body as it told me how much I could push and when. I don't know how long it took me to get to the top of the hill. It both seemed like it took a long time and like I was there before I knew it. I rode past the kiosk, down the singletrack to the swirly, swoopy trail that crosses the road and then continues zig-zagging around until it finally ends at the road, just primed for the downhill.

Before I crossed the road the first time on the singltrack, I came zipping over a rise and around a corner and ran smack over the neck of a rattle snake. It didn't hurt me although it must have hurt the snake, but it sure did startle me. Since there wouldn't have been much I could do to help the snake if I'd injured it, I just continued riding.

When I got to the downhill section, I lowered my seat and hammered the hill until I got to the bottom. Then, something got into my mind and I lost a lot of motivation. It wasn't physical because I did the climb back up the hill without any problem. I think I was lamenting the way the morning's ride with my son had turned out and wishing again that I wasn't riding by myself.

I rode down past the old green waste site, past the trail marker and continued down the road that eventually just dead ended. I had hoped I'd be able to find a trail out, but there was nothing that looked like it had been used by bikers. I turned around, headed back the way I came--up the fire road climb, back to the singletrack, crossing the road in the reverse of the way I'd come down. I was looking for the snake, which I never found. I figure it either slithered into the grass to recuperate or a hawk saw it and had a tasty snack. Either way, what ever happened to the snake will never be known to me.

The way down the hill was as fun and swoopy as ever, although I was less speedy then I usually am because I didn't wear my guards (the trail rash on my elbow from the morning's escapade would have made wearing elbow guards a bit painful!)

The ride that turned out the way it did

2008-08-31T14:01:00.000-07:00

When my son was little, he would accompany me on many rides. They weren't particularly fast or difficult, but I was sharing Mountain Biking with him and he seemed to enjoy himself too. We had great tales and memories; epic explorations and painful crashes. I would push him to do more than he thought he could (or probably more importantly, more than he wanted to do), but he always rode, and always demonstrated that he was both capable and strong and ended the ride with a smile on his face.

The only problem is that I always had to play a game with him that I didn't want to play: he'd balk at putting in any kind of effort. I'd get him to challenge himself because I didn't really let him believe he had a choice. He'd challenge himself and succeed and then we'd start the cycle over. I don't want this to seem like I drove him until he broke, but I pushed him to always strive to improve. Then he turned into an adult, and at this point I figure he's got to want to do something on his own as it's no longer my place in life to push him or provide experiences to him. It's up to him to push himself and expand on his own.The only problem is that he still tries to play the game. I feel like I'm in one of those damned if I do; damned if I don't situations.

I can say that in the past two years I've missed having the opportunity to expose him to more of the world; we had shared almost 18 years as mountain biking partners, travel partners, experience junkies. I knew him at a level of performance that was strong and willing to push forward. So, today it was particularly hard for me because he was neither. We had arranged to ride together in the early morning, although I can now see from this perspective that it was probably more me arranging for us to ride together. I asked him three times about riding after his initial possible acceptance, so it now I can see that there was no drive to do it from his side. Then, I had asked him to get his stuff together last night so that when I arrived we'd just be able to leave for the ride, but no amount of encouragement worked as he was too drunk and stoned to have real drive or ability to push himself forward. I knew, of course, that his state last night and his refusal to do anything to get ready was not going to bode well for today.

As usual, I was running late, but I had the added burden of getting his bike ready so I'll accept my own failing to get moving as quickly as possible. By the time I got to his house, it was an hour after I was supposed to be there, and then he wasn't ready, and this and that happened, and soon it was almost 10 before we were walking out the door.

By 10:30 we were on the trail, and sure enough, it was getting pretty warm. It was not unbearable, and there was a breeze, but it wasn't cool like it would have been at 7:30. And, at the pace we were riding, I was moist but not dripping. If you know me, you know that means I wasn't really sweating.

I didn't expect him to be fast or fit. Yet, we rode to just past the waterfall in about 30 minutes and he was ready to turn back. He would probably have kept riding if I had asked him to, but I could tell that he didn't want to ride any longer. He also complained of needing to study (which I respect if he's going to do it) and that he was tired and hungry and too hot.

So, we turned around and rode back. Since we hadn't gone very far, the ride back was fairly quick. A few times I zipped down a hill or up a hill and turned around to meet up with him again. As we'd pass I offered a warm smile that I hoped would convey that I was glad that at least we'd been out together, and maybe it was a start to something more. I sure miss him and his companionship and sharing explorations with him, and hope that one day in the near future, before I get to the point where I can't keep up, that he comes back around. Until then, I'll just keep trying.

23-24/August/2008 Mt. Laguna Rides

2008-08-24T21:02:00.000-07:00

On Friday (22/August/2008) I started off the day thinking that I might not be able to go on my camping and mountain biking trip to Mt. Laguna with the Great Outdoors group. I woke up with a fever and a really bad feeling in my stomach. I worked from home and then fortunately, by about 3pm, I was feeling better. I loaded up the car, determined to ride even if I wasn't feeling 100%.

On the drive to the mountains, I called Bill R. who was supposed to be meeting me on the trip. But, as I almost expected, Bill was still in Monterey and wasn't going to be making it on the camping trip/rides. I assumed, although I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised, that none of the other guys on the trip would be bringing a bike or if one or two did, the likelihood that there was a similar fitness and skill level was pretty slim. So, when Bill said he wasn't coming, I assumed I'd be riding alone. I called Ron, who had mentioned that he might be interested in coming up for the day to ride, but as always, I got his voicemail, and didn't expect to hear from him because I had no cell reception once I got away from the freeway.

By the time I got to the camp site at the Mt. Laguna/El Prado Group Campground, my stomach was feeling much better and I was excited to meet all of the guys who were on the trip. Just as I arrived the group was going out on a hike. Not being a hiker, and needing to get my tent set up, I declined the invitation to join them and went about setting up my tent. One other man who was still in the camp offered to help me get the tent up, which greatly simplified the task of getting the tent in place. I then inflated my air mattress, and went about setting up my stuff. Michael, the guy who helped me set up my tent, was a really friendly and kind man and we hit it off instantly.

As I expected, I was the only one there with a bike. I still held out hope that Ron would show up on Saturday. When I got his voice mail, I left him a message telling him to meet me at the campground at noon. While I say I held out hope, it was a very slim hope, and in reality, I completely expected that I'd be riding by myself.

On Saturday, I waited for Ron until about 1:30 in the afternoon, and then I got myself ready and took off on the ride. My plan was to do a quick loop around the lake and then down Nobel which is exactly what I did.

The ride down Nobel was a blast. I shot video through the whole thing although it would have been so much more interesting had there been someone in the video. When I got to the trailhead I saw a couple of riders stretching and thought maybe they were going to be riding up. But, they were just finishing their ride and they seemed a bit surprised when they found out that I was parked on the top of the hill and had to ride back up. I was nearly out of water in my camelbak although I had another liter of water in a bottle stashed inside. I figured it would be best if I rode over to the store in Pine Valley and bought a bottle of water and some energy bars which I had forgotten to bring on the ride. (I remembered them about 20 minutes into the ride, but figured I could do the ride without them.)

The ride to the store was significantly further than I remembered it from the first time I rode Nobel Canyon and we drove the car from the trailhead to the store. After I got there, I chatted with a fellow who was waiting for his girlfriend to pick him up after his ride from Chula Vista. Then, after organizing my camelbak and all the cables and wires from my camera and ipod, I brought my bike into the store, leaned it against a freezer and grabbed a gallon of water and a couple of protein bars.

I sat outside and chatted with the fellow from Chula Vista for a while during which time I ate the bars, refilled my Camelbak and drank the water remaining in the bottle. When I got to the point where I felt like I was sloshing, I popped some electrolyte caps and decided to take off for the climb ahead.

At first the road was relatively easy, almost downhill from the store to Pine Creek Road. But Pine Creek Road and Deer Park Road have some very steep sections, and the climb up Laguna Meadow Road was no easier. By the time I got to the top I was pretty tired, but I got energized by the ability to get back on singletrack.

The ride back along Big Laguna Trail was fun and swoopy and by the time I rolled back into camp, I was feeling really jazzed.

The Great Outoors guys were just finishing up eating when I rode into camp. I had dinner, or rather the remnants of what remained that was vegetarian. I'm glad I brought my own food since the only thing that was available was some spaghetti with a tiny bit of sauce. I added some baked tofu and wished I had some vegetables, but enjoyed what I ate.

After eating, I decided that I couldn't wait any longer for a shower, so I grabbed some clean clothes, my shower kit and a towel and walked over to the shower. When I got there I discovered that the showers operated with quarters and I didn't have any with me. So, I had to walk back to camp (about a half mile), rustle up some quarters and then walk back. (I suppose I could have driven, but that's not like me...) I got clean and shaven and was feeling good. When I walked back to the camp, it was dark and everyone was sitting around the fire chatting about this and that. I listened for a while before Michael offered me a return to a big flat rock in the meadow from which we could look at the stars. We hiked out there and enjoyed the view of the Milky Way and a clear sky. Unfortunately, my legs started to cramp, and after several very painful bouts of cramping, we started to walk back. My legs instantly started to feel better as we got moving.

Once back at camp, Michael was so sweet and gave my legs a very thourough and sensitive massage. I felt wonderful after that and we curled up next to each other and I fell asleep.

I awoke on Sunday morning determined to ride earlier rather than later. Of course, for me that means getting my ass organized and in gear earlier than when I did. So, when I finally rolled out of camp it was almost 10am. I was originally thinking that I would ride out Highway 79 to the trailhead that I rode from with Dana and Claus a month or so earlier. But when I actually got on the bike, I headed toward the meadow. Once in the meadow I saw two guys riding and took off after them. It wasn't long before I was on their tails and then passing.

I got on the Nobel Canyon trail and rode past several other bikers who were looking like they might have been a bit out of their league, even with the relatively easy singletrack there at the top. I continued powering it out, practicing skills and reminding myself to stay fluid on the bike. I wasn't wearing my guards, so I was a bit more hesitant than if I had been wearing them, but I was still jamming down the trail. When I got to the Indian Creek trailhead, I decided I'd ride it up to the Pine Mountain trail and then turn around. Once I got to the bottom where the creek is located (actually not much more than some greener plants at this time of year).I stopped to make sure the video was recording and that the track function was enabled on my GPS. I had my earphones on, so I didn't hear it when the two guys I passed back in the meadow jump the creek. I made some poor excuse about being an itard, but then since I was riding alone, and off to the side of the trail, I figure I was OK.

These two guys took off up the hill without being friendly, but they were on big heavy downhill bikes and I was on my Mojo SL, so I easily passed them. When I got to the top of the hill at the point where Pine Mountain Trail comes in, I waited for them to finish coming up so I could head back down. One of the guys showed up and we started chatting while waiting for his buddy. He mentioned that they were going to go down the other side of Indian Creek Trail, then up some part of East Mesa to a "secret" trail that would take them down into Pine Valley. I mentioned that it sounded like a great ride. The guy offered that I could go along, and even said they'd offer a shuttle up from Pine Valley when I said that I didn't think I wanted to do two climbs in as many days. So, once his buddy got to the top we headed down the hill.

The trail was gnarly. There were rocks all over the place that looked like razor blades sticking out of the trail. The left hand side of the trail was a steep slope and the trail itself was narrow. I really wished I had my guards, and so I took it a bit easier than I would have. As a result, the two guys, with their 7" travel bikes, zipped down the hill much faster than I could or would. When I got to the bottom of the hill, where the trail meets up with East Mesa Fire Road and Deer Park Road, they were no where to be found.

I encountered two other guys, David (a really cute guy from Carlsbad who was riding an Ibis Mojo) and Peter, his friend from Germany. We chatted a bit and then I decided that probably the best thing was for me to just head back the way I came. So, I let the two of them head up the trail and then I followed. Peter was the slower of the two, and I quickly passed him. David on the other hand was really fast, even with a caliper problem on his front disc brake. I guess if I didn't carry such a big Camelbak and all the shit I have in it, as well as if I didn't have the pack around my belly, I'd be much faster. But such is as it is, and I still do better than most.

At one point, I was right on David's tail when he had one of those uphill momentum losses and I almost crashed into him. Unfortunately, in trying to not crash, I went over the side of the trail and ended up going down the embankment doing a cart wheel on some rocks before landing in the dirt. I was fine, and handed my bike up to David who said something about how I probably wouldn't continue to follow so close.

We continued the ride to the intersection of the Nobel and Indian Creek Trails at which point I decided I'd head down the Nobel Canyon trail until I got to the paved Laguna Meadow Road and then I'd take that up to Big Laguna. David and Peter went up the Nobel Canyon trail. I zipped down the trail, faster I think than I did on Saturday's ride. It seemed over too quickly and even though I wanted to continue down the Nobel Canyon trail, I opted to head up the paved road.

Except for a couple of nice fast descents, the road is mostly uphill from the lower intersection of the road and the Nobel Canyon Trail. There were some pretty steep sections that got me a bit winded, and how my legs kept spinning I'm not certain. Just as I got to the spot where the Nobel Canyon trail crosses the road at the S curves near the top of the climb, I encountered David and Peter again. Peter let me pass, and I followed David, seemingly pushing him to go faster as we made our way to the Penny Pines watering hole.

I refilled my Camelbak and headed out toward Big Laguna. At one point I found a trail that said "El Prado Campground" and I decided to take it. I don't know if it was much of a shortcut, as it had a lot more of a hill than if I had gone the longer way, but it got me back to the campground and just in time for a late lunch.

20-August-2008 Los Peñasquitos Preserve ride

2008-08-21T10:25:00.000-07:00

I did an after-work/before-the-SDMBA-meeting Los Peñasquitos Preserve with Rich Julien and his buddy Brian since I was carpooling with Rich to the SDMBA meeting and he wanted to do a ride before the meeting. Rich picked me up from my workplace at about We parked at the old "Cantina Bike Shop" parking lot and headed out past the old adobe and proceeded to do a mostly singletrack ride. It was great fun! I did crash at one point, trying to do some fancy line work that left me bouncing too much when I needed to be solid on the ground.

We rode several of the tunnels and some really cool technical singletrack trails. I found that my skills weren't in peak form, possibly due to the late hour and possibly due to being tired. Rich was really fast for someone who claims he'll be in a wheelchair in 10 years due to a variety of physical and physiological issues; I had trouble keeping up with him most of the time.

All in all, a great ride. I shot video, and am in the process of editing it.

Going to Moab

2008-08-20T11:06:00.000-07:00

So, I finally decided to go on a trip, and I decided I'm going to Moab. Even if going to Moab for a mountain bikingr is a bit cliché, I guess it's one of those places that one has to experience just because of all the hype.

I am putting out the word that I would like other's to come along, but even if I don't get anyone else interested, I'll go alone. I just am not going to let the fact that I can't find anyone here in the San Diego area to go with me be a barrior to my enjoyment. I assume that since I'll be in the 'mecca of mountain biking' I should have no problems finding others to ride with. I've been downloading everything I can find about Moab: Hotels, hostels, trails, GPS data, maps, travel information, etc.

I've decided to stay at the Virginian Motel thanks to a recommendation from Rich J. I had been considering staying at the hostel, which would have been dirt cheap, but figure I can afford a bit more luxery. I ended up reserving an upstairs kitchenette, so even though I'm paying a bit more, I figure I can skimp by cooking my own meals. It will, of course, be healthier, and I don't have to worry so much about finding vegan or vegetarian food at restaurants. On the other hand, it might be a bit less social. So, I'll just have to plan on inviting lots of people back to my room for dinners!

I've created a composit GPS file that I will upload to my GPS unit that includes all the trails and tracks that I was able to find online. I've got most of the major rides, and beyond that I'll just do a bit of exploration.

I'm really excited about this trip. It will be my first real MtB specific trip since I tried to bring my bike to India in 1997.

17-August La Costa Technical Fiasco

2008-08-18T11:42:00.000-07:00

It started off like a great ride. I got to the trailhead at about 4pm and was on my bike by 4:20 (Oh how I wish...) Anyway, video camera was rolling, the ipod was jamming and I was zipping up the hill with all my protective gear in place.

I made some of the switchbacks that usually have me pushing the bike and some of the steep loose climbs were easy with my Mojo SL. I had just made it around one of those corners and up a steep grade when I noticed I had some chain suck. I back pedaled and the chain fell out from between the cranks and the chainstay, but then I noticed that the chain was dragging on the ground. I looked back and saw that the lower jockey wheel was completely forward. I handled the Shimano XTR Shadow derailleur hoping that something would snap back into place or something, but there was absolutely no tension on the chain. A fellow MtB rider came by and offered about the same amount of assistance I was able to provide--pushing the jockey wheel cage backwards only to watch it spring forward.

Fortunately, the return to my car was about 98% down hill, so I coasted back, only having to push a few times. I drove home, put the bike on the stand and grabbed my favorite bike repair manual "Zinn and the Art of Mountain Bike Maintenance." I quickly found the page and discovered that there is a part in the derailleur called a Pivot Spring or P-Spring that puts tension on the jockey wheel cage, and thus, pulls the chain taught. This P-Spring was the source of my issues. I quickly disassembled the derailleur and found the P-Spring, put it into place and tightened everything up, but still no tension. So, it was time to read the manual a bit more closely. It turned out I needed to twist the jockey wheel cage around. But to do that I needed to remove a set screw that prevents the jockey wheel cage from spinning all the way around. I removed the screw, but discovered, to my frustration, that I needed to break the chain in order for everything to work right. I guess it was a good time to replace the chain, even though it was almost brand new.

The original chain was an XTR, which while a good chain, caused me some consternation in that I have been using SRAM 971 chains for some years and don't have any XTR links in the even that I would need to replace a few on the trail. So, with the added benefit of some over-zealous chain breaking, where I knocked the pin completely out of the link, it seemed like a good time to just put on the SRAM chain that I had sitting in front of me in the toolbox.

After breaking the chain, I once again removed the set screw from the jockey wheel housing, twisted the jockey wheel housing around, replaced the set screw, and voila, I had a derailleur that would tension the chain once again. I put on the new chain; tested the shifting, which worked flawlessly, and went about cleaning up my mess.

I'm questioning whether I should take the bike in to the shop to have them take a look at it, or whether I should just trust Mr. Zinn's technical explanation and give the bike a ride. I'll be leading two rides this coming weekend for the California Men's Gathering's camping trip to Mt. Laguna. I think I'll bring along another derailleur though, just in case.

15-August-2008 Cuyamaca Night Ride with San Diego Mountain Bike Association

2008-08-16T15:48:00.000-07:00

I had ridden in Cuyamaca Rancho State Park only a few times before. The first time was many years ago when I first started riding and my friend Alann took me up to ride some singletrack and fire road around Middle Peak. That was before Alann got heavily into his running addiction and dropped out of the MtB world. The second time was just a few months ago when I rode with the San Diego Mountain Biking Association (SDMBA) on a new moon night ride. On that ride I was joined by Claus and Dana and about 40 other riders. Last night, neither Claus or Dana could make it, so I was on my own along with 40 other riders.

In the run-up to the ride, I had helped the organizers by 'doing the paperwork' -- extracting names, lighting requirements, and ability levels from emails sent to the ride coordinator and entering them into a spreadsheet. Nothing flashy, but probably helpful. I had also been in touch with the organizer to discuss meal options -- being mostly vegan I was hoping to avoid the horrible feeling in my stomach that followed the previous ride's pizza dinner. Remarkably, a vegan option would be added to the menu which was well appreciated.

I had posted a car-pooling notice to the other riders who were scheduled to come on the ride. I figured there'd be more people coming from the Torrey Pines area where I work, but only one person responded that he would like to carpool. So, after a few email exchanges, we agreed to meet at my workplace, and leave from there.

My company had their "annual day at the races" so everyone had left around 3pm to go to the Del Mar track. I used the time between 3 and 4:30 (when my car-poolee was scheduled to show up) to get my bike cleaned up, aired up, and lubed up.

Last night's ride was on a different route than the previous SDMBA Cuyamaca ride. There were some elements of the ride that I liked better and some things that I didn't like as much, but that's to be expected. The route started out on some singletrack which was a lot of fun. But we quickly got onto a fire road the had us climbing for some distance. We were pretty much on fire road until we got to Granite Springs where we hit some singletrack for a short period of time. We eventually got to some fire road again, (East Mesa Fire Road) which was actually more like singletrack because of all the fallen trees. We road that trail to a stand of trees and then returned. When we got back to the turn off for Oakzanita Peak trail we met up with the Intermediate group who were just returning from their ascent. It was pleasant to see all the lights streaming down the trail coming toward us, but one thing I've noticed, and it's something I remember teaching my Scuba students to avoid, is that people with head lamps don't consider the brightness of their light as they look at people. So, once the blinding got too bad, several of us decided to take off.

As we started the singletrack climb, I was second or third in the group. It was a fast and fun trail although it was a bit sketchy at times as there were lots of trail side branches and bushes. The guy in front of me caught a hold of a branch that snapped back toward me with considerable force and speed. I'm just glad I saw what was going to happen because I was able to duck rather than getting smacked in the head. At one point the trail had a slightly increased incline and I didn't notice that the edge of the trail was a bit sandy. Somehow I hit the sand and lost momentum so fast that the next thing I knew I was laying on the ground. Of course, the only rock anywhere to be found on this section of the trail was underneath my leg, giving me a nice scrape and pain that remains now, over a day later. I pulled myself out of the trail and allowed another rider to pass.

The switchback climb up to Oakzanita peak was difficult, especially with the pain in my leg. There were several sections with rock steps right in the switchbacks, so I had to dismount several times and do a few short hike-a-bikes. Even though I was significantly slowed in my ascent, the fellow who had passed me while I was down wasn't making very good time even on his hardtail. I caught up to him with ease and then rode right on his back wheel until he let me pass him, but then we were at the top already. The view from the 'peak' was pleasant, with the full moon mid-way up in the sky and the lights from several riders still making their way up the trail looking like fireflys zig zagging closer to us.

When the 'sweep' made it to the top he offered us all Oreo cookies, though they were a bit on the stale side. I grabbed one and started my descent. With my leg throbbing, I took the descent easy. It seemed like there were moments when the bike just didn't want to move regardless of how hard I was trying to push forward. I think I might have sabotaged myself slightly by grossly under inflating my tires. In the past I had been inflating them up to >3.5bar (>50psi), but after several suggestions, I dropped it to ~3.0bar (40-45psi), but this time I dropped it to 2.4bar (35psi). While the ride was much smoother, I felt like I lost a lot of momentum from the bouncy, squishy tires.

When I got back from the Oakzanita Peak singletrack to the East Mesa Fire Road, I met up with my carpoolee, Sol. We took off together and continued our way down the hill. I hadn't remembered the ascent being as long or steep as the descent seemed, but that could have been my leg, the general fatigue, the fact that now I had to watch my speed on the curves else I could end up in a ravine, or the large amount of dust in the air thanks to Sol's and another rider.

Just before East Mesa Fire Road meets up with highway 79, I took the single track that runs parallel. Again, at some point I felt like I was unable to maintain momentum and came to a complete stop. Fortunately, I didn't fall. But another rider passed me--it was the guy on the hard tail again. Once I got moving, I was again right on his rear wheel. We made it back to the parking lot fairly quickly.

Throughout the ride I was very glad that I had brought my 'Buff' because I was able to put it over my nose and mouth and avoid breathing all the dust. (I didn't bring it on the last SDMBA ride I went on and ended up coughing up dust for two days after the ride.)

We sat in the parking lot and ate dinner. I enjoyed some organic lentil soup with tortilla chips and some very tasty beer. I talked with some old acquaintances for a while and with some of the people I rode with. When we finally left for the drive home, it was around 11:30. By the time I made it home it was 1:15.

10-Aug-08 Sycamore Canyon Ride

2008-08-11T12:18:00.000-07:00

I couldn't believe it! I was not only on time to the ride, but I was actually early! I attribute it to one thing: I made a list of all the things I needed to do to get ready for the ride. Then I went about checking them off. Shoes, clothes, clothes for after the ride (since I wasn't going home), gym clothes because I missed a workout during the week, GPS, video, etc. (it was a long list). I hit the road and headed south. I was meeting Bill R and Claus. I had wanted to do a bit of exploration, looking for a way to avoid riding on the road from where we park to the trailhead. GoogleEarth images show it's possible, but unfortunately, Claus was given strict time limits on the ride, and exploration wouldn't fit within his confines.

I got to the parking lot and set my bike up, oiled the chain and waited for Bill and Claus. Bill showed up first. We had a good conversation while waiting, including the discovery that Bill had forgotten both his Camelbak and his socks. Fortunately, I had both water and spare socks, so he was in luck.

When Claus arrived, we got our selves moving pretty quickly. I admire people who can just put on their shoes, throw on their hydration pack and ride. It's not something I'll ever be able to do, but I do admire it.

We hit the road, and the singletrack. Claus, as usual was in the lead. For some reason, Bill was slower than normal, asking me to go first. When we started up the "new hill," Claus was in the listening to music and missed the single track, and couldn't hear us shouting to him. So, he headed up the steep jeep road while Bill and I did the sweet single track. We met up at the top. From there we rode along the fire road until we got to the trail that would take us down. At the intersection we encountered three guys, one of whom looked like either he had crashed or was simply exhausted. Regardless, he was just sitting on the ground. His buddies answered for him when asked if he was OK. It turned out it was the guy's first ride, on his CostCo "Mountain Bike" and was certain to be one of those bad first experiences where experienced riders take a newby out and expect the newby to be able to do everything they've been doing for years. While the uphill part might have been easy, the downhill that they were headed for is steep with rutted switchbacks. Oh well, so much for friends!

We zipped down and into the canyon and Bill must have been really hurting because he was so far behind. At one point Claus missed the trail again and I passed them. I went a short distance and waited to make sure they were following. Claus passed me, but Bill never did. I went back to the turn, but Bill wasn't there. I assumed he took the "easy" way, and so I jetted ahead. I met up with them both at the gated entry to Goodan Ranch.

We continued on, until we got to the fire road where Bill said he was going to turn around and head back. I felt bad that he wasn't going to finish the ride with us. I had wanted to hang out with him after the ride, perhaps going for tea and a chat.

Claus and I continued up the fire road, doing the big climb. I was feeling very slow at this point, and was unable to keep up with Claus. He raced ahead while I rested several times on the climb. I guess the extra weight in my pack and the elbow & knee/shin guards probably slow me down quite a bit on the climbs. Once on the top, I was a bit more able to keep up with him as we headed north along the ridge to the road that would bring us down to Martha's Grove.

I ran off the road on the descent towards Martha's Grove, and was glad I was wearing those guards as my forearm banged into the hillside as I came to a stop. The gouges on the elbow guard look like there would have been a significant amount of blood had I not been wearing them. Those guards are ultimately a pain and expense reducing health insurance policy.

Martha's Grove was loads of fun. This time I just zipped over the ugly section like I had no fear. I was hot on Claus' back wheel all the way down which isn't usually the case, so I was feeling very good about my abilities.

The rest of the way back was fairly uneventful. The climb back up the hill wasn't as difficult as before, but I still had to walk a few sections.

Looking for 'love'

2008-08-06T10:11:00.000-07:00

I want to go on a MtB trip. There, I said it! Actually, I REALLY want to go on a mountain bike trip. One of those trips with 5 or 6 days in the saddle.

The part about choosing where to go is probably the easiest part. As long as there is great scenery, lots of single track, good vegetarian food, and I can sleep in a warm and dry tent, I'll be happy.

I've been looking into those MtB tour companies to see what they have to offer. Choosing one of them to supply all the support won't be all that difficult either, since there are only a handful of companies with the requisite reputation.

The problem isn't a lack of money that's getting between me and going on one of these trips. After all, if I'm even looking at those tour companies money isn't a limiting factor.

The reality of the matter is that I want someone to go with me on the trip. I want someone to share the experience with me. I want someone with whom I can return home and have a more solid emotional and intellectual bond. I wish it was another androphilic man, to make the physical nature of the experience even more intimate, but it doesn't have to a guy. In the old days (e.g. up until two years ago) I would have packed up my son and paid his way to do the trip and we would have had a great trip. But when he turned 17, started the teenage smoking thing, stopped doing much physical exercise, and then moved out when he turned 18, my built-in buddy thing ended. I get really nostalgic about it, because it was so nice to have someone to expose to so many different activities and experiences.

A friend of mine suggested that I return to Harbin Hot Springs (about 2hrs north of San Francisco) where I could go riding at Boggs Mountain State Forest. It would certainly be an enjoyable place to ride as I've done it during the past two years, but it's not exotic--I want to go someplace I've never been before where the trails are the main attraction rather than the place I'm staying. Still, I might take her up on the idea, because it's better than nothing for the short term and the liklihood of meeting a nice guy there is probably much higher than say mountain biking in Idaho.

Anyway, I'm sure I'll figure something out in the near future. I'm going to start a concerted effort to find other androphilic mountain bikers. I'll post more as things happen.

Julius Syvanen Mountain Bike Skills Clinics Experience

2008-08-05T21:57:00.000-07:00

On Sunday morning I attended Julius Syvanen's Mountain Bike Skills Clinic. In comparison to the BikeSills.Com clinic with Joe Lawwill, Julius' clinic was much more personal but also much more unstructured. Also, the class only had 2 students as compared to the 7 in Joe's clinic which could have been a benefit in a more structured environment.

The unstructured nature of the class made it more a ride with a professional racer along to provide tips and answer questions as opposed to the BikeSills clinic which seemed more like a class. Also, because of the format, Julius provide more specific tips on how to perform certain skills. For example, as I was riding, Julius pointed out what I was doing during cornering that could result in me skidding out. In fact, just the day before I had skidded out on a corner. Once he pointed out my flawed (and long term) execution, and instructed me how to perform it correctly, I immediately improved. It was like night and day for me.

The unfortunate thing was that the other student was in many respects at a different physical and skills level, and so the least common denominator was usually the case. He simply got tired long before I was ready to quit. That's where I started asking questions and trying to improve on the skills I learned from Julius and from the BikeSkills class. Julius never acted like he had a chip on his shoulders. Instead, he answered each of my questions, provided demonstrations and pointed out what I was doing and how to improve, all with the air of a friend who wants to impart his knowledge.

The cost for the clinic was a reasonable $55, although it would have been a greater value had the skill level between myself and the other student been more equal.

I will certainly go back to take another ride with Julius to get more pointers on my riding.

02-August-2008 Sycamore Canyon MtB Ride with Claus

2008-08-03T19:59:00.000-07:00

I had sent out the message widely that there was going to be a ride at Sycamore Canyon on Saturday morning. Only Dana and Claus responded in the positive. I had hoped for more than three, but three is better than one, so I wasn't about come complain. Dana sent me a text message early Saturday morning telling me he wasn't going to make it--his daughter wanted to spend some time with him. There's no way I can fault him for spending time with his children, so it was down to Claus and I.

Somehow my every intention to leave the house on time backfired, and the next thing I knew I was calling Claus to tell him I was finally on the highway after several false starts and I would only be about 15 minutes late.

When I arrived at the parking lot for Westhills Park, Claus was there and chomping at the bit. I got ready as quickly as possible, but I was worried. First, my experience is that Claus is faster than I am. Second, I commuted four days to and from work on my road bike. Third, I had been pushing myself all week on the commute and broke a personal best two times within the previous seven days. Forth, even though I "took it easy" on Friday's road commute, I still bested my average. Fifth, I couldn't fall asleep until around 1am on Saturdy morning, so even though I got just under 6 hours of sleep, I was still pretty tired. All of those together meant that my legs were a wee bit fatigued.

Never the less, we took off down the road toward the trailhead.

We were planning to take the trail that Dana and I had done on our return the previous week. We headed up the fire road, completely missing the single track we should have taken, and continued up, up and up. By about 1/2 way, my legs were screaming! I have to thank Claus for not being too hard on me. We continued up and around until we found the the single track that would take us down. We zipped through the switch backs, with the view of the beautiful canyon in front of us, until we got to the creek at the canyon floor.

From there the ride went as normal, although my legs never really felt strong. Just at the trailhead to Martha's Grove, we encountered a fellow who had a broken chain. But because he was riding a single-speed and had an 8 gear chain, the links I had in my bag were useless.

I zipped through Martha's Grove, even scooting down the little ugly rocky section. I crashed a few times on the curvy sections because I was going a bit too fast.

We then headed back up the hill via the switch backs, found the singletrack on the other side and enjoyed more switchbacks on the way down.

A great ride!

Sycamore Canyon MtB Ride - Google Maps

27.July.2008 Ride at Sycamore Canyon with Dana

2008-07-30T17:46:00.000-07:00

I rode Sycamore Canyon on Sunday with Dana, my riding buddy from work. Dana is a great rider--strong, fit, fast and skilled. He usually keeps me on my toes.

The ride north followed our normal route. We were moving along pretty fast for most of the ride. On our return, we encountered a man who had his bike pointed toward a trail that we had never been on. Dana asked him where the trail went, which the guy explained but not in a way that gave me a good idea of the exit point.

We were really looking for a way to get back to the car without having to ride on the road, and hoped that this would provide such a route. Instead, however, it was a magnificent switch back ascent of the hillside which afforded us fantastic views of the canyon. Absolutely beautiful! It ended up depositing us not far from where we met up with the guy, but added about 20 minutes to the ride.

I'll be doing that section in both directions the next time I ride Sycamore Canyon.

BikeSkills Experience

2008-07-29T06:51:00.000-07:00

I've been regularly riding Mountain Bikes since 1993. I'm strong, physically fit, have an awesome bike, and usually go with the "advanced" group when I'm riding with a club. So, it may come as a slight surprise that this past Saturday I decided to take a Beginning/Intermediate MtB skills Course.

One of the reasons that I decided to take the course stemmed from my experience as a SCUBA instructor. I had a student in an "Advanced Open Water" course who had been diving for about 20 years. For years, he'd been doing all of the things that I was going to "teach" him in the course. So for him the course was simply a way to advance through the ranks to become eligible to take the "Rescue Diver" course with his girlfriend. On our first dive, he descended the 15 meters from the surface to the ocean floor like a rock but came to a perfect stop and hovered about a meter above the ocean floor. I descended much slower and when I found him I noticed that his mask was partially filled with bloody water. I asked him if he was OK, and he responded that he was. We went on our dive, with him demonstrating all of the skills in an acceptable manner--It was evident he had lots of experience, but there were still things he could improve upon. After the dive, I asked him about the blood filled mask. He said that was normal, it happened on every dive. I ensured him that it was not 'normal' and that it was a direct result of his overly rapid descent. On our next dive, I had him descend slowly. Miracle of miracles, no bloody mask. He was amazed. He'd been having bloody masks for 20 years and one dive with someone who had the skills and knowledge he was missing changed his experience for the better.

The experience with that student lead me to realize that regardless of how long I had been doing something, I could always stand to gain something by interacting with someone with a higher level of skill and expertise who could coach and educate me. Of course, this assumes that the instructor is able to modify the course materials to fit my level and that I'm not so far out of league with the other students that the instructor has to teach two courses at the same time.

I googled Mountain Bike Skills Courses and found several different resources. I had Brian Lopes' book and had read it, but there was something lacking between the written page and my execution. The next thing I came across was the West Coast Style DVDs. I saw some clips from the DVDs on YouTube and decided to get them both.

The first one, West Coast Style Mountain Biking provided me with lots of important skills knowledge and a wide variety of skills to practice, and I continue to watch the segments to build my abilities. The second one, West Coast Style Freeriding Fundamentals, is more focused on Freeriding, as the title suggests, but still provides a lot of really good skills demonstrations. I would have liked them more had they really focused on slow motion replays of drills or specific activities, such as "Ok, now go try to do X, Y, and Z" rather than riders showing off their skills. I still recommend these two DVDs for anyone who wants to improve their skills and find out how to do a variety of tricks and has the patience to watch videos. Unfortunately for me, I'm not much of a video watcher. I get about 10 minutes into them and I start to lose interest or I want to go and try the skills as they're demonstrated. Since we're talking about Mountain Biking and not yoga, it has been really difficult for me to practice the skills as they're taught or refer back to the video quickly.

That said, the missing element for me was the link between demonstration, practice and feedback. I happened to see a YouTube clip from BikeSkills.Com on YourMtB.COM and followed the link to find out more. I was pleased to see that BikeSkills had an instructor, Joe Lawwill, in Orange County--less than 40 miles from my home.

I sent Joe a message asking him about clinics that would be appropriate for me because the only ones listed were "Beginner/Intermediate" and I felt like those might be too easy for me. Joe responded quickly, assuring me that "there's always an easy way and a hard way around an obstical" and that he was certain he could challenge me. Was he right!

So, Saturday morning, I drove to Aliso Viejo to meet up with Joe and the other participants of the BikeSkills clinic. We met at Aliso Creek Park, signed waivers and Joe started in with his "Do's and Dont's." He explained to everyone the value of having our brake levers positioned so that we could easily brake with one finger. Next, Joe set about describing the concepts of shock compression and rebound and then worked with each participant to tune our shocks. My shocks had both been set at the shop just a week before, so I was probably the fastest to adjust -- no adjustments needed. Other people took considerably longer. While this is a great service and worth the $89 course fee in and of itself, it did take a long time to get everyone set up right--time I would have rather had learning skills, or at least resting out of the glare of a rapidly warming sun.

We started off in a small flat dirt area at the beginning of the trail. We practiced pumping into dips. It was quite amazing to find that with a simple loading of weight into the front shock while the front wheel was entering a dip, I was able to keep the bike moving. We later learned that this technique could be used to navigate out of situations where the front wheel could get stuck such as a rutty, slow speed ascent or descent.

Pumps were followed by track stands. These were pretty easy for me, especially with all the road riding I've been doing.

The next skill we learned and practiced was the manual. This skill was really the basis for the remainder of the clinic. A manual is like a wheelie, except that instead of using a pedal stroke to lift the front wheel, the bike is thrown forward and the front wheel more or less lifts itself off the ground as the rider's weight is now over the back wheel and the arms are extended. I'd never been able to do a wheelie because I always tried to muscle the front wheel off the ground with my arms and had my body in the wrong position--too far forward. After seeing the manual being done, I was amazed at how easy it looked, and logically it fit. So, I tried my first manual and failed. I tried again, and had a limited amount of success. I tried a third time, after receiving some feedback from Joe, and I was so successful that I forgot to modulate with the rear brake and went over backwards landing on my butt and elbows (I was REALLY glad I had padded shorts and elbow guards!) I was bruised, both in the physical and ego sense, but the pain on my iliac crest and elbows didn't go away. After a few more sorry attempts on my part, we headed up the hill.

The climb was not terribly difficult for me or Joe, but most of the other riders were lagging far behind us. Joe stopped when we got to a rock step in the trail. At that point we waited for everyone else to show up. When they finally got there Joe went about describing how to clear this one foot obstacle. First, we would ride up to it, loading the front of the bike and then doing a manual to get the front wheel on top of the ledge, allowing the handlebars to come toward the chest. Then, once the front wheel was up, we would push the handlebars forward and down causing the rear wheel to lift off the ground and follow the front. It was kind of like a bunny hop, but going up hill. We practiced this several times before we turned around and practiced the descent--Coming up to the drop, doing a track stand, then pushing the bike forward with the arms and the body backwards. It was so easy.

We continued up the hill until we got to the top. We practiced going over a log for a few times, perfecting the skill we learned at the step. Then we moved a bit and practiced manuals up a larger step and then manuals off a small ledge.

The next exercise was descending a rocky, rutty, slope called "Rocket" Joe demonstrated how the pump action could get us out of a tricky situation where the front tire might get into a rut or encounter a rock that we needed to move beyond in order to not fall. He had us descend while changing lines in order to make the skill a bit more complicated. I didn't have any problems with this skill, zipping down the long bumpy rock face like it was slick rock. When I got to the bottom I had the opportunity to see how NOT to go down as one of the students did an endo. Good thing he was wearing a full face helmet and guards on his elbows and knees/shins. I guess he didn't pay enough attention to the "back and down" part of the instruction.

The final skill for the day was a three foot step up. It was all about using "helpers" and manuals. Joe demonstrated several different ways to clear this obstacle, at one point appearing to be flying up hill. Very, very impressed, but by this point in the day my iliac crest and elbow were hurting quite a lot so I decided to just watch. Some of the other students attempted the skill, but only the guy with the 29er was able to clear it.

Next to the three foot step was a 5 foot step that Joe used to demonstrate his prowess. As a 42 year old man, I marveled at his abilities, but had no inclination to attempt such a stunt (maybe next year :)

My plan at this point is to practice the skills and then go back in a few months time to get some more feedback and learn some new skills. If you're in Southern California, I whole heartedly recommend taking Joe's class. I feel more confident in my riding abilities than I ever have.

The First Ride for the third time.

2008-07-25T23:01:00.000-07:00

My first ride on this baby was a dream. I picked the bike up on Friday night. I was pretty tired, so I decided to forgo an evening ride and instead opted for an early Saturday morning ride. Instead of making an early night of it though, I went over to a friend's house and ended up not getting home until around midnight. I quickly fell asleep and just about 2am, I was awoken from a dream where I was riding my new bike on some swoopy single track. I was a bit annoyed at the neighbors or their friends who decided to say their goodbyes on the street outside my window and the sound of an expensive sports car igniting, but the I quickly set myself back to sleep so that I could rejoin the bliss of my single track dream. As usual, I awoke around 5:30, but I laid there in bed for a while. I actually tried to get out of bed at 6am, but with the late night and the disturbed sleep, it just wasn't happening for me. A later ride wasn't an option though because I had to be in San Diego by 11:30 to work the Rainbow Cyclists' Bike Corral at San Diego's Gay Pride festival (the Bike Corral is like a coat check for bikes.)

After working and then wandering around the "Pride Festival" until 4pm I headed home. The idea of a ride was in my head, but with the lack of sleep and being in the hot sun for several hours, my body just didn't have enough energy to put everything together.

On top of feeling physically drained, I also didn't really want to ride alone. I wanted my first ride on the bike to be with one of my long time riding buddies. Part exhibitionist, part egoist, part comrade, the act of riding a new bike for the first time raises a host of complex emotions.
It seemed that none of my riding buddies were in town, so a bit disappointed but filled with excitement, I woke up on Sunday morning ready to try my new bike. I loaded the bike on the roof, put the wheel in the back of the vehicle, and was getting my clothes together when I decided to check my phone. One of my buddies had called on Saturday night. I called him back, and found out that he was about 10 minutes away from one of our usual ride spots.

I asked him if he would wait for me which meant about 10 minutes before I would be able to get all my stuff together and another 25 minutes to drive to the trail head. Surprisingly, he agreed. So, I put my ass in high gear, got everything else that I needed loaded into the car and zipped down the freeway.

From the moment I left the house I was giddy. I was finally going to riding my new bike! I was having a hard time containing myself. I had one of those ear-to-ear grins and it was difficult to maintain a gas-saving speed.

I made it to the trail head and found my buddy waiting. I slipped into my shoes, grabbed my hydration pack, started my HRM and said "Let's go!" We jetted up the to the start of the trail head, chatting and discussing the finer parts of our previous week. Our plan was as normal: ride Sycamore Canyon from just off Mast Blvd. in Santee, up to Goodan Ranch in Poway. Do Martha's Grove and then head back. There's lots of curvy single track, some good climbs, and some technical sections that I usually go around.

It's a "lollipop" ride--out and back, with a loop at the far end. I've ridden there a hundred times so it would be a good place to put the bike through its paces without adding any other variables to the mix.

We started down the trail, the bike feeling very natural under me. The medium sized bike was actually much more appropriate for me than the large framed bike I had been riding. It felt more like an extension of me than a tool to move down the trail.

Everything went very smoothly for about the first 5 minutes. Then I hit a bigger bump and the seat moved so that it was tilted nose up. I stopped, grabbed my multi-tool and fixed the seat. About 5 minutes later the same thing happened, so I fixed it again and this time tightened the little sucker down with a bit more force. I haven't had any problems since.

For most of the ride I was right on my buddy's tail (it's a cute one so I'm not complaining). At one spot where we had a fast/furious downhill, so I hit the remote on the Joplin R seat post to drop the seat. With the seat out of the way, I was moving faster than I had ever allowed myself to go on this trail before. Somehow I managed to get myself into a fairly deep rut that had an abrupt curb like end. I figured it was all over. I figured they were going to be wiping me up off the trail. I rode it though, and the suspension on this bike was absolutely amazing. I didn't even feel like I was in the rut, and with a slight manual, the shocks absorbed the exit point like it was candy.

After that experience, I was feeling really confident; maybe in myself, mostly in the bike. I continued down the hill, remarking to myself how much I like the Crank Brothers Joplin R seat post. I can't ever see myself going back to a static seat post after this experience. As I was zipping down the hill, I got to the curve where it's very sandy. I hadn't thought I was going as fast as I actually was, because I hit the sand and had a much more difficult time knifing through it than I ever had before.

When we made it to Martha's Grove I was excited because there is a point on the trail where it gets very technical. When I first started riding this trail, it was one of those hike-a-bike sections for me, even though I saw lots of people do it. It's a rocky rutted steep drop of about 4 feet. It's possible to roll over it, but it always scared me. Not today though. I just rolled down it like it was no more difficult than a stairway.

The rest of the ride was a blast. I still had that ear-to-ear grin on my face and as I drove home I was still excited.

If it's possible for a man to love his mountain bike, then I'm in love.

Buying a New Mountain Bike.

2008-07-23T13:05:00.000-07:00

As I have mentioned in my previous post, I hadn't bought a new bike for myself since 1999. Everyone I have been riding with over the years was tooling around on a new Turner or Ellsworth or Trek. Everyone had at least 120mm of travel on the front and about 80mm on the rear while I was forced to set the pressure in my 80mm front and 40mm rear so high so I wouldn't bottom out on the smallest of bumps. Sure, these once were state of the art shocks, and sure there are still those out there riding hard tails, and sure there are still those who don't understand why anyone why anyone would put any suspension on a bike; but I was longing for a smoother experience. After all, just because riding a mountain bike is my main form of meditation doesn't mean that I have to be uncomfortable doing it.

So I set about doing some research. I had no idea what to buy beyond knowing that I wanted LOTS of travel in a light weight XC bike. There is just so much hype, and so much hype about the amount of hype. Most of the magazines aren't any help because they have been focusing on the 29ers or bikes that didn't fit my needs. Plus, it's definitely not like it was in 1999 where there were only a handful of major players to choose from and there wasn't the proliferation of blogs, websites, magazines, forums, etc. Also, currently the majority of the discounters only carry a few brands aimed at the mass market. While they may have a high-end bike or two at Performance, there's not much in the way of choice--with GT being about the best they have to offer. Some shops carry only one brand (e.g. Trek Superstore or Specialized boutique shops). And most of the other LBSs are spread out requiring long distances in the car just to visit and see what they have. So, bottom line--too much subjective information available to get a good idea of what to buy; not enough concentrated physical inventory in the proximity of where I live to get a hands-on experience.

So, I went to Google as my first stop. I entered "Top Rated Mountain Bikes". That didn't help too much, but it did point me to mtbr.com. Once there I found a page with a huge list of bikes that riders had rated. I started off with the criteria that I wanted a bike that had been rated by at least 30 people and that had an overall rating as close to 5.0 as possible. Given a rudimentary understanding of statistics, I recognized that a higher sample size (e.g. the number of people who had rated the bike), the better the confidence interval. In other words, more people rating a bike, the more realistic the rating value would be.

I looked at a few different bikes with lots of reviews, like the SC Blur LT, but I was under-impressed with the bike after reading what people where saying. I kind of stuck to just scanning the "Weakness" area because I figured that is where the real truth would be stated. I checked out a few more "well known" bikes and followed leads from one to another. I can't remember all the bikes I looked at now, but I read about 1000 different reviews.

One bike that I ran across while reading a review for a completely different bike really hit me. It was everything I was looking for: super light, 140mm travel front and rear, super sexy, over 70 reviews and a total rating of 4.92/5.0. The biggest weakness to the bike, according to a very large number of reviewers, was the rider's abilities. I decided to look deeper into this bike; the Ibis Mojo SL.

I searched the web for reviews by pros and magazines. Here's what BIKEmagic had to say about the ride: "We've ridden a lot of bikes, and while most of them are really rather good these days it's been a while since something actually blew us away. But that's exactly what the Mojo did. Whatever you think about the looks or the price, this is a stunning bike to ride. Somehow it manages to feel both light and stout, have both less and more travel than it actually does and combine high-speed stability with low-speed manouevrability." That's a pretty good endorsement. But then I came across another review, this time from one of the legends of MtB.

Here's what Brian Lopes had to say at bikemag.com, the web arm of Bike Magazine: "I'm thrilled to be riding what in my opinion is the best looking and best riding bike on the market. I personally tested numerous bikes and the Ibis Mojo has won hands down as the best all-around machine. Which was the main driver for my decision, shortly followed by the like-ability of the Ibis owners, their future products, heritage and long-term commitment and vision to make the ultimate working bikes in the market. To me it was a perfect fit."

So, the next step was to find one. I came to learn that the bike was available in two models, the Mojo and the Mojo SL. The SL, standing for "Super Lite" was available in three colors: clear, gray and brown. On the web sites, the clear carbon really struck my fancy, but apparently it does so for a lot of people because when I tracked down a dealer in San Diego, they didn't have a clear in my size. The gray just looked too much like primer coat and the brown looked absolutely ugly. Still, I decided to check out the bike in person anyway, even if I would have to wait for a frame to be ordered.

So, I drove to Cal Coast Bicycles in San Diego after work last Wednesday (the 23rd of July) to give the bike a test. They didn't have any Mojo SLs built, but I got to test out the Mojo. The bike felt good. I mean, it felt really good. Alex and Charlie convinced me that for my size, I needed the medium frame even though my old M4 was a large. At first, it was a bit awkward because the smaller size altered the way my body interacted with the bike, but after just a few minutes in the sadle, I felt like the bike and I were one. There wasn't much in the way of a real test of the bike; just jumping curbs and running on some dirt next to the freeway, but the experience was awesome.

I went back to the store, hopping another curb, and just as I rolled into the shop, the rear tire went flat. Nice! I had decided that I was going to get the bike. The question was, wait a week for a clear frame to come in or go with the gray or brown. The gray still looked like primer coat to me, but the brown was actually kind of sexy. It didn't look anything like the brown I saw on the web sites. I debated, brown now or clear in a week...Now won. Of course, "now" isn't "now" when all you have is a frame on a wall and a shop that needed to order some parts for the build kit. So, I made my order, swapping this part for that, getting exactly the bike I wanted. I wasn't terribly concerned with weight, even though I got an SL. I figure the platform pedals (Time Z Control), a Joplin R Seat Post, and Ergon GX2 grips with carbon bar ends. Most everything is from the XTR build kit. I got the Fox RP23 rear and the Float RLC front. I got an XT cassette because the number of XT cassettes I'd go through in a year was costing me serious bucks--I keep bending the 3rd chain ring because I use it for climbing a lot of times. Anyway, the end result, with all the changes and my bear-bell, light mount and HRM holder is 12.8kg (~28.2 lbs.) When it came time to pony up my credit card, I popped the question: I'm a member of the San Diego Mountain Bike Association and as such I am supposed to be entitled to a 10% discount. At first Alex said that he didn't think they could give the discount on these bikes since they were so new and in such high demand. For the amount of upgrades or cash we were talking about here, I figured it was in my interests to pursue it a step further. So, I asked him to ask Charlie (the owner). When he returned he asked me if I had my membership card (which of course I did) and rather than earning just over 6100 airline miles, I earned about 5500 miles. I hoped that there was a sliver of possibility that the bike would be ready by the next day (Thursday) for a ride with the San Diego Mountain Bike Association. Of course, my hopes were dashed because there wasn't time to order the missing build kit parts until the next morning, but on Friday, I got the call to come pick up my new sexy machine.

I must say that the experience at Cal Coast was very good. Of course, in my opinion, when you're laying down about $6K for a bike, the experience should be very good. Alex took the time to make certain that everything was set up correctly, that the shocks were just right, that everything worked, except...as I rolled out of the store it became very evident that no one had actually tested the drive-train, and the rear derailleur was all out of whack. They had it fixed in a jiffy and I tooled around a bit on the street before loading it onto the top of my vehicle. I was giddy. I wanted to ride. I wanted to show it off. I wanted to experience a trail with this new bike under me. It was almost like a sexual desire. But it was late. I didn't have time to ride that night and didn't have anyone to ride with. I needed to be someplace early on Saturday morning. I was chomping at the bit, but I'd need to wait until Sunday.

I'll cover the first ride in the next post.

In Memorium...An M4 rolls down the trail.

2008-07-17T13:27:00.000-07:00

Do I really need a new Mountain Bike? Well, the answer is a bit more complicated than a simple yes or no. In the grand scheme of things, with children in Post-Katrina Mississippi living in toxic temporary housing several years after being uprooted from their toxic ghettos, I can emphatically state that, no, I do not need a new bike. Neither do I need it so that in some small way I am validated as a studly 42 year old man still capable of kicking ass on the trails--I'm not much of a competitor, in that I recognize that I sit somewhere on a bell curve of ability, and I'm no where close to either end. So, all the competitive spirit within me is exactly that, something residing solely within me and directed 'against' myself. So, why do I need a new bike?

The last time I bought a bike it was 1999. I had bought a really sweet 2000 Specialized M4 S-Works. It was red and white and I felt on the top of the world.

Before that, I had been riding a Trek 8000 hard tail that I bought in 1993. (The picture to the right is one I got off the web. I don't have the fenders or the panniers.) The Trek 8000 had served me well, but in 2000 I had my first high-paying job and it was time to splurge.

The M4, as I said, was really sweet. It was my first experience on a "full suspension" bike, and given that I had 1.5" of rear travel, I was 'stylin'. I could speed down hills faster than I ever could have done on my old hard tail. In the nearly 10 years that I've been using the M4, it has been "my steed" on climbs throughout San Diego County, a few trips to Northern California (Boggs Mountain State Forest) and a few rides outside of Las Cruces, NM. It's seen me through radical physical changes; it's seen me through radical emotional changes; Mountain Biking itself has been a guiding force in my life.

About a year after I got the bike, election day 2000, I carefully lifted it to the top of my car and secured it in the rack. I had a plan for the day: vote, get coffee, go to work, ride with my friends in the late afternoon. But, like so much that went wrong that day, my plans were soon changed. The polling place was closed because it was too early in the morning which left me to decide whether to go grab coffee or wait the 20 minutes for the polling place to open. I chose the latter, but since I only lived a few blocks away, I drove home and parked the car in the garage. Unfortunately, the bike was still on the roof as I eased the car into it's slot. With a loud snap the front shock's drop outs snapped off and the bike crashed onto the roof of the car.

Ok, so the day was starting off badly. I cursed and cried and thanked the spirits that neither the car or the house hadn't been damaged. I loaded up the bike into the trunk, voted and headed off to work. At lunch I rushed over to the local bike shop hoping I could get a new shock installed in time for the afternoon ride. They had the right shock in stock, so I was all set. I'd pick the bike up later in the afternoon.

I returned to work only to receive a call from the bike shop that the steering tube had been flanged and that the frame was destined for the scrap heap. I cursed and cried some more. Then the guy at the bike shop told me that he could get me a crash replacement from Specialized for half price, but it would be a few weeks. Alas, now we had a war mongering president in the White House and me without a bike. At least one of the problems would be solved relatively quickly.

Within about two months I got the replacement frame, transferred everything from the old frame and was back in business. At that point, I was riding trails at least three days per week. Mountain biking has been my life. It is a way to forget about everything and be completely in the moment; it is my form of meditation. So, to be without a bike for smonths was painful. Fortunately, I had a month long vacation planned to Bali from the middle of December which helped to pass the time without a bike.

I have contemplated what to do with the M4. I could give it to my 18 year old son as an upgrade to the bike he has now but doesn't ride. He has a 2001 GT I-Drive 1.0 that I got when Supergo was blowing out the pre-bankruptcy bikes. The components on it are a mixed bag. Some LX, some Avid, Some absolute crap (like the front shock.) He was tall for his age when I bought it for him and I didn't want to have to buy another bike for a while, so the frame is a large and he grew into it quite nicely. None the less, about the time he turned 16, I stopped being cool enough to hang with, and a nasty nicotine addiction took hold of him thanks to his posse. But, when I told him I was buying a new bike he asked for the M4. But I don't really want to give it to him. I'd be happy to let him use it to go on rides with me, and maybe after he's shown me he's serious (I can't really stand the fact that I sound so "fatherly") I'd give him the bike. Otherwise, I think it would be a waste to have what is really still a very nice bike sit idle in a garage where I wouldn't be able to offer it to someone else who might be interested in going for a ride with me but doesn't have a bike.

So the other day when I was in the shop picking out my new bike, I realized that I had done a lot of upgrades on the M4. The only parts that were still original from the 2000 frame were the XTR shift pods and the Thompson seat post. The XTR cranks were a replacement about 2 years ago. The XT Cassette and XT dereilleur were replaced about eight or nine times, the most recent being about a month ago. After destroying several XTR cassettes in the first two years, I decided that I would use the XT cassettes because of their greater durability. The Hayes Stroker Carbon Disc Brakes were new in March 08, replacing the Hayes El Camino's that replaced the XTR V-Brakes. The Specialized seat had been replaced a few times as a result of crashes that tore the covering. The Mavic Crossmax XL wheelset was a replacement of several other wheelsets. The Ergon grips replaced the original grips that had gone from red and black to pink and gray with UV exposure. The fork had gone from a Manitu Mars CL, to another Mars CL to a Rock Shox Reba Team. The rear shock had gone from a Fox Float RC to a Cane Creek Cloud Nine. And of course, the chain had been replaced at least 50 times.

So, I got my new bike (which I'll post about soon) and the M4 now sits off to the side of my garage, alongside the Trek 8000. We'll see what happens. But back to the question of why I need a new mountain bike...I guess just because. Not very convincing, unless, of course, you're a mountain biker.