2009-01-30 Sycamore Canyon fragment

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.

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

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.

2008-09-20 Sycamore Canyon Group Ride

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.

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

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.

10-Aug-08 Sycamore Canyon Ride

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.

02-August-2008 Sycamore Canyon MtB Ride with Claus

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

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.

The First Ride for the third time.

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.