Nothing Changes but the Road Kill: Sometimes that doesn't change much!

A while ago a friend of mine and I were talking when I said that although I missed Montana, it was really becoming homogenized in the sense that all of the cities are the same as any other city in the U.S. with the orange glow of the Home Depot and neon lights of Applebee's and Chili's.  His response was that he drove his son to college on the other side of the continent and that all that really changed from state to state was the road kill.  I love and use it when people ask about moving all the time "Nothing changes but the roadkill" I say.  While it is clearly an understatement; obviously some places are greener or more mountainous, it is very true nothing changes too much.

Hiking in Missouri.  Diga and Nater love to hike.  I love this picture, it makes me wish I were a better photographer.

Well, we have moved again and though it seems that we haven't since the roadkill consists mainly of raccoons and opossum in Iowa/Illinois/Kansas/Missouri, bicycling opportunities have definitely changed.   Dramatic changes.  While the Quad Cities is not my favorite place ever it was an amazing bicycling community.  The hundreds of miles of well maintained bike paths and delightful mountain bike parks seem to have vanished into thin air.  As with my beloved LBS Bike and Hike, Rock Island, IL.

Don't get me wrong, Kansas has an amazing bicycling element;  there are mountain bike parks, Dirty Kanza, some great rail to trail opportunities, and from what I can tell a healthy cyclocross scene.......Just not where I am.  There is one bike shop, the jury is still out on that.  Silly me, I asked them if there  were any bike paths around and they all stopped what they were doing and stared at me as if I was I was the glowing green and holding a sign that said "dumbest guy on earth."  I have been in several times and they act like it my first every time I walk through the door.  It is not like I am some famous guy, but does it hurt to pretend!

The Irish Tsunami all strung out while exploring some new hiking and biking opportunities.  

The best part of moving is exploring new places.  I have been on a few shop rides (they see me riding with them though they act like they don't know me when I walk in the shop) and the landscape is beautiful.  Rolling hills with some steeper and longer climbs than I am used to.  Less corn, more hay and trees.  It is nice.  My big issue is that the nearest MTB park is 30 miles away.  With soaring gas prices I may be focusing on road riding.  It is too bad I am mountain bike heavy and have neglected the road stuff for a while.  This is exactly why I have an arsenal of bikes.  I can do just about anything just about anywhere.  They make moving a challenge but it is worth it.

OGRE + LAS CRUCES + ANTHEM X29er + BASSO + MUKLUK= Go anywhere, do anything!

  

Pain

I am in pain.  My feet hurt.  My back hurts.  My knees hurt.  My legs hurt.  My SKIN hurts.  Pain.

Today is one of those days that I ask myself why I ride bikes.  I am in great shape, I should not feel like this.  Yesterday when coworkers asked the typical Friday question "what are you doing this weekend?" I responded with "lay on the couch, I have nothing planned nor do I feel like doing anything."  That included riding bikes.

Yet I found myself scheming ways to fit in a ride.  Maybe it is because I know that summer is over and I need to get in the last minute miles.  Maybe I knew that I would not be permitted to simply lay on the couch all day.  Mow the lawn or ride a bike I asked?  I don't know, but there were a ton of messages both obvious and subtle that suggested I needed to just lay on the couch, or as close to it as possible.

Instead I found myself heading to a new trail even though something told me deep down inside that I should not go.  The really crazy thing is that I even said told Household 6 my plan and that "I don't know how long it will take since I have never been there, you never know what kind of mess I can get into."  Well I did.

Here is the story.  Some friends from work participate in an annual Washers Tournament at a local camp ground, which happens to also advertise mountain bike trails.  I have hyperlinked for those who are not familiar with the Sport (?) of Washer Tossing and while this link shows bikini clad women and shirtless men, I assure you that none of the people in this particular event were wearing that attire (we will count that as a small blessing).  I didn't want to get caught up in some huge bracket and be gone all day, but I was told they had great Jumblaya.  Since I am a fan of Jumblaya, I thought it would be a good idea to go early, mountain bike at the camp ground (which advertised roughly 7 miles of trail), finish in time to eat some jumblaya, watch some rednecks throw washers at boards with holes in them, and head home for the better part of the day.  I would be out of Household 6's hair for a while but I would not leave her hanging for the whole day.  Win Win.....or not!

While I was successful at eating Jumblaya and watching fully clothed (thank you) people toss washers, I failed misserabley when it came to riding my bike 5 miles.  I guess you could say that I succedded at riding my bike about 1 mile and pushing it for four miles.  I threw my shirt away, as well as, a pair of socks (coming home sockless is becoming a trend but more on that later).

It turns out that the trail (did I say it was advertised as a mountian bike trail) is not maintained by mountain bikers (or anybody for that matter).  I should have picked up on this within the first half mile turned around and called it a day.  After all there were numerous signs!  The trail was so overgrown that I could not see obstacles until I was on top of them causing me do dismount or destroy chainrings.  There were countless trees across the trails which caused me to dismount, I should have brought my cyclocross bike.  Many of those were on steep inclines which required me to walk the rest of the way up the hill to a more level surface to pedel.  Signs that said "no horses on the bridge" led me to question where the bridges were as I crossed steep banked creek beds, again carrying my beastly Giant Anthem X 29er. 

At one point the trail was rerouted with orange paint on trees and no trail whatsoever.  I later learned that the concept here was that if enough horses traveled this route they would have a new section of trail.  Not exactly trail building for the long term.  This turned into a 1 mile hike-a-bike.  When I caught back up with the trail it was so overgrown with cockleburs it was impossible to get them out of my socks.  My shirt became hopelessly entangled, bunching up as I moved and burs tearing up my arms.  The end result was scratched up arms and legs and a shirt so clumped up and full that I simply threw it away.  I was able to get them off my shorts after an hour of picking while watching rednecks toss washers.  I still have not tried to tackle my gloves.  If they weren't a month old and $40 I would have thrown them away.

Running up hills with biking shoes and a mountain bike leads to leg and foot pain.  Cockleburs EVERYWHERE lead to skin pain.  All of this could have been prevented if I had paid attention to the following signs (not necessarily in order):

1.  The big sign at the entrance of the park that said "Mountain Bike Trails CLOSED."   Seriously!!  Who am I to question this.  Since it was due to rain a couple of days ago, I pursued the park ranger to get a second opinion.  He changed the sign to "Open."  Why didn't I just let it go, maybe it was the fact that I paid $4.99 a gallon to get there and didn't want to leave empty handed.  There is another lesson, get gas in Iowa before crossing into Illinois.

2.  Mold in my hydration pack.  I put paper towel in the bag to help keep it open so it would dry.  When the bag was "put away" it folded over and the paper towel began to grow mold!  I love this thing and I refuse to put anything in it but water.  It stays clean and taste free, best bag I have ever had (Deuter rocks).  I actually think Emily did it but since I cannot confirm if she did or not without having a discussion about taking care of my own crap.   I will accept the blame to avoid the pain.

3.  Horses:  These, as with most trails, are multi-use.  These people were ready before I was and they were ahead of me, should have left right there.  I personnally have no problem with horses.  However, horses have a problem with me and my shiney bikes.  Sometimes the riders have a problem, but they are too busy settling down their giant animal that is afraid of anything and everything.  I always stop, move to the uphill side of the trail and talk so they recognize that I am human.  I think this is the acceptable practice.  Today however I managed to catch them from behind.  The point is that they were slower than I was even with my bushwhaking.  If they can't get through it, what makes me think I would enjoy it.  I have never enjoyed riding horses, but I found myself enving the fact that the guy didn't have cockleburs all up in his pearl snapped shirt.    

In the future I should be able to recognize the signs of an impending disaster and I hope that I will listen to my body. 

By the way, after reading this Emily confessed to placing the paper towel in the hydration bag.  Ha, I knew it.  Small victories.

Love Your Life

I cannot believe that it is 19 December.  The temperature was in the mid forties and the sun was out.  I took the opportunity to get in what I suspect to be the last day of mountain biking this year. 

I went to Sylvan Island, which is a fun place to ride.  It is not great for distance but where else are your obstacles chunks of foundation, bricks, random chunks of steel, and the occasional piece of broken glass.

My intent was to get some great photos of Sylvan Island or at least great for a lousy photographer like me.  I stopped to get a photo next to a random concrete wall with some graffiti.  I was somewhat annoyed by the fact that my battery was about to die and the sun was so bright that I could not get a decent picture of my Giant.  Then it occurred to me, 19 December and the sun was so bright that I could not take a picture of my bike!  How could I not love my life.

Though I didn't get the pictures I was hoping for, I don't think I could have taken a better one than this.  

Long Shadows

Fall is my favorite season to ride!

Winter is closing in quickly.  This week we got a lot of rain, a pretty decent snow storm, and virtually non-stop wind.  I thought that was going to be the end of mountain biking.  It is a courtesy not to ride when the trails are really muddy.  It tears up the trails and who wants to wash all of that Mississippi mud (I am convinced it could marketed as a really good adhesive) out of all of the nooks and crannies of a dual suspension mountain bike.  Today was a special treat, BOB (big orange ball) was out and it was a balmy 60 degrees even though the wind was whipping.  I am not so concerned about the wind with mountain biking because I rarely have to fight a head wind for long.

I normally try not to do anything that takes effort on Sunday (physically or mentally) but I could not resist.  I added some air to the tires of my Anthem X 29er, loaded it into my Trooper and moved out.

When I arrived at Sunderbruch Park the sun was starting to dip a little and the shadows were long.  BOB is already riding a little low and I noticed as I rode along a ridge that my shadow was tracing my path on the other side of the draw.

 Not so long shadow near the middle

    It was nice to have company on a ride for a change

Speaking of company, when I got home I had plenty.

 I am not sure how that is comfortable, but he didn't want to get down?

I am not sure if Thomson Stems or Salsa designed the 2008 El Mariachi or for this.  Of course I am parent of the year based on the fact no one has a helmet on!

Why Do I Like to Ride? A Great Question!

There I was lying in a heap, my XL bike frame tangle in my legs, my shoulder throbbing.  My shin was bleeding after being grated across the shifter and brake lever of my handlebars.  Fortunately the steep embankment from the stream bed I was riding through/across prevented me from flying too far.  As I got up and brushed myself off, I asked myself "why do I do this?"  Bicycling causes the following conditions:

1.  Sweat
2.  Sore muscles:  During and after rides.  Mainly during the ride.
3.  Fatigue:  Mainly after riding
4.  Sore body:  During and after, especially if there is a crash.
5.  $$$:  I just bent some teeth on what has turned out to be a $100 Shimano XT chain ring trying to clear an old building foundation on Sylvan Island.  I think I will just stay with the middle ring for now.
6.  Sweat

Considering these six conditions, I am not sure why I spend so much time riding or dreaming about riding.  Maybe some day I will figure it out.  In the mean time, I will take some ibuprofen to get rid of the pain from today's outing.    

The High Cost of Riding Bikes: Money and Pride

It has been a rough and fairly expensive week of riding. It started with a weekend mountain bike ride. Though not great for long distances, Sunderbruch Park provides some technical riding with some decent climbs. Great for busting lungs and chains. I was cranking hard up a steep climb when I heard a metallic ping sound and the sudden spin of cranks with no resistance. The side plats had come right off the rivet. I have broken chains in the past but usually part of the chain goes flying. I was close to a walking path and decided to coast back to the car vs. spend 1/2 hour fixing a chain that wouldn't shift right because it would be short. I went to the LBS and it was determined that the best fix would be mediocre and since the Anthem X 29er is such a nice ride it would be sad to spoil it. It turns out that there is no such thing as an affordable option for a 10 speed chain. The best price I could find was $50.

Monday I took the Basso down Duck Creek Parkway with a nice addition of Wisconsin Ave, which is a nice stretch winding through corn fields for a total of 27 miles.

Tuesday morning brought a major thunder storm. It dumped rain so I decided to take good old reliable out for a spin that afternoon. I bought the Salsa Las Cruces (Spanish for "The Cruces") while I was in Iraq and it has been the most carefree bike I have ever owned.

I have ridden thousands of miles on it and all I have had to replace are tires, tubes, a seat, and the handlebar tape. I rode from the house to Duck Creek Parkway. The bike was a good choice because some sections had close to a foot of water on it. There was some mud on the asphalt in some places where dirt had washed off slopes so I took it pretty easy. There are a few places where the bike path intersects roads which have crosswalks and lights that change on demand. I had just crossed the road when a couple approached to front of me, I moved to the right to give them a little room when my front tire slid off the bike path. The slight drop coupled with the soft earth caused my tire to slide and I felt my body skid across the asphalt.

At this point I would like to briefly discuss Lycra. It has pros and cons.

Pros: Less wind resistance and does not flap in the breeze on long rides. Helps keep you cool by allowing for quick drying.

Cons: Not flattering unless you are sculpted out of the finest Italian marble. Tends to draw negative attention from small town hics and Southern rednecks.

I would suggest however, that it is very practical material and that athletes from many disciplines wear Lycra for its benefits. Here are a few:

Speed Skating

Swimming

The Skeleton

And of course the most manly sport ever, football

However, there are some times when Lycra is not practical. Mainly when your upper thigh/lower buttocks are skipping across the pavement. I felt my entire left side become one with the ground as I heard the scrapping of my bike (still attached to my feet) for about 6 feet. Now, this is certainly not as bad as pulling a "Coop" or Hoogerland, but it still hurt. I quickly sprung to my feet, looking to my left an old lady nicely asked if I was "ok." The same came from the couple. Holding back tears I said in my most manly voice "nothing hurt but pride!"

But that was not true, the entire left side of my body hurt. I looked down and saw the redness of my shin. I was afraid to look at my thigh/buttock for fear of what I would find. My ankle was on fire and bleeding. I knew if I stopped for long I would stiffen up, so I made the climb home.

The cost:

1. My left Crank Brothers Candy, which was probably due for an overhaul anyway. Aside from the cosmetic damage, it doesn't like to spin and has a squeak. It may just need to be retired.

2. A shredded Salsa "Rasta" sock from 2006 (x-mas gift from Coop)

3. A scraped up Salsa "Rasta" rear skewer (brand new, never ridden before) which Salsa doesn't make anymore. I think it is just cosmetic but no one likes scratched up skewers.

4. A raging case of road rash on the upper thigh/buttock region. I will not show you a picture of that.

5. Pride. I don't have much left.

While it was a bad day for the Salsa Cycles Rasta motif, my Pearl Izumi Lycra survived unscathed (which is weird considering my flesh was not). My Specialized shoes got a small scuff, they won't die! If only my body was made out of the same stuff as my Specialized shoes.

I am going to ride the Great River Trail on Saturday to get some miles in. Hopefully I don't have the same problems.