RAWROD Reminiscence

These will widely be inside-jokes, so that's why I'm posting them separately. Raman at Acorn - I need to go back there to buy those wings so his daughter can go to college and Dan and Jon need to support me on this. Quick release devices are awesome. Horse Thief campground is not actually anywhere near Horse Thief Canyon and the road past Horse Thief Campground actually is the road to nowhere. Vice grips and a spatula make cooking dutch oven potatoes on a camp fire a lot easier than a burning rag and a cutting board. Sleeping on a cot under the stars is way better than sleeping in the car. Again. Great harvest bread with plenty of peanut butter and strawberry jam is almost divine for lunch during an epic. I can't believe how steep Murphy's and Hardscrabble are from this side. I thought they were bad from the other direction, but it's silly how steep they are from this side. Or else I was just cooked by the time I got to them, one of the two. I've got to remember the Spam Musubi next time. Brad, I promise the asado will make up for it. I get unreasonably grumpy when I'm dehydrated. The good news is that I know for a fact that I can come back from it. The Crank Brothers Acids were definitely my best bike equipment purchase ever for epic rides. I'm considering the Acids with carbon for future rides. Brad Keyes is in fact Zeus the Greek god transported to our day. He has chosen to manifest his divinity in the form of unbelievable riding abilities. Zeus's All Day is the real deal. It stayed tasty all day. I was right - the conversation in the car with Jon, Delena and Dan were the best part of the ride. Fatty always claims that his super power is to put down unreal amounts of food after an epic ride. I don't doubt that, but I also am sure that Nails should also be in the Justice League for his ability to eat pizza post ride. It was amazing.

RAWROD Reality

The entire trip can be summed up with "Everything took longer than I thought it would." Dan brought his already loaded car to my house in the morning and we journied into work. I had some things I needed to get done, and apparently so did he. We headed back promptly at 1:00 p.m. and things were looking good. I'd prepared most of the bike stuff already and had sent my lovely wife to the store to pick up the soft goods I'd need for the trip. I decided to prep the potatoes I was planning on cooking that evening and then we loaded the car. Add in a stop to pick up things at Racer's, picking up Jon and Delena, and a final stop at the gas station, and we were already getting behind. Then we took a wrong turn to the campsite. The constant wandering on the wrong road was too much for Delena, who became horribly carsick. When we rolled in, everyone had eaten and were headed to sleep. I made the potatoes anyway, and apart from Dan and I having a plate each before bed, the potatoes went uneaten. The next morning we got up early and managed to head out a little earlier than the main group. Hours 0-2 went fairly well. Mineral Bottom road between Horse Thief and the highway is long and straight. It also is a pretty constant climb tjhat ended up feeling like the road to nowhere. I was concerned that my legs were feeling tight the entire time we were on the road. Once we turned onto the highway, we climbed for a little bit and then the road turned down hill. The speed and some time actually spinning loosened up my legs and I started to feel pretty good. The descent down Shafer's was loose and nasty. Sandy rockfields are my least favorite type of terrain as I feel that at any second I'm likely to crash and break bones. After we picked our way down, we trudged on toward Mussleman. My primary goal for the ride was to have enough in the tank to climb out of Horse Thief, so I didn't push it on any of the climbs before lunch, finding the granny more than once. Hours 2-3.5 went pretty well, and Dan looked strong. Hours 3.5-5.5 were rough as we spent most of the time pedalling slightly uphill again, but this time the wind was blowing hard. The trail meanders, so its effects varied. The one thing it did do was cool me down, so I didn't drink as much as I should have. After lunch, we began the dreaded cycle of being near the rear. By the time we arrived, everyone else was rested and ready to leave. We could either rest and get further back, or move on without rest. We picked the middle line - rest for long enough to still get left, but not long enough to recover. After the walk of shame up Murphy's, my dehydration showed it's ugly face. At mile 65, I got really grumpy and my heart rate soared. I was ready to quit and climb in the truck. The good news was that I had underestimated my CFC and actually felt good until 6:15. The bad news was that suddenly I was completely out of mental reserves at the precise moment I needed to tap them. I realized I hadn't peed since we started and guessed that I was probably getting dehydrated. I slowed down and drank a liter and half or so of plain water. I continued cruising at an easy pace until mile 70, at which point I rebounded and felt good again. Unfortunately, this is were it all fell apart for Dan. He could barely pedal. The support vehicles caught us again, and Dan figured if I was going to soldier on, so would he. Which left us 15 miles to the next stop with absolutely no chance for aid. Dan continued to deteriorate until he could no longer swallow the peels from the apple he was trying to eat. I started to get really worried, but finally we limped into the last prearranged stop at mile 87. Chad and Margaret were rolling out as we rolled in. We refilled our bottles in earnest and made our way on. As we began the descent, Dan told me he had had enough and that I should try and bridge my way up to Chad and Margaret. Not wanting to try to finish alone, I pushed on and caught Margaret, who was by then riding alone. We pushed on together. My iPod and GPS both died before the bottom of the Horse Thief, which sucked a lot. We rode the last first 1/3 of the climb until Margaret's back told it was time to walk. We walked until the last switchback where Brad, Chad, DanN, Jon, and Delena were cheering us on. Or mocking us derisively. It felt like both at that point. I climbed back on to finish the last little stretch and Jon hooked me up with a Cock and Bull Ginger Beer hand-up for the finish. We packed up and headed into town for some pizza. Afterwards, Jon drove back as I drifted in and out of sleep. I finally arrived home at 2:45 a.m. and promptly collapsed. I woke up and had some breakfast, then slept until 1:00 p.m. The home teachers showed up and I tried to keep myself awake. After they left, I slept until 6:30, missing our rendevous with Jon and Dan to sort out our stuff. Sorry guys. I'm sore today. My legs hurt worse than I thought they would while my hands, feet, and back all hurt less than I thought they would. I sure hope we go the other way next time, as I suffered less going the other way despite having less fitness. My goal for next year is to get the same training time in and to not get dehydrated and see what that does for me. I also am hoping for no wind.

RAWROD Prediction '08

So it's about that time. It's time to get my brain wrapped around an entire day of suffering. Aaron once had a nice, tongue-in-cheek way of describing it: "We're going to get up really early and ride until dinner. No big deal, right?" Except for me, it kind of is. The first time I rode it, my fitness and weight were both sliding. Even then, I was only slighter heavier than my low point and reasonably fit. If I'd estimated my comfortable fitness capacity (CFC), I would have put it at about 6 hours. My CFC is how long I can go at a respectable cruising speed without having to dig into my mental reserves to overcome what my body doesn't want to do. I'd done a HIM a month earlier so was confident I had six hours. That's if everything had gone right. However, Mahana had decided to come along at the last minute. He didn't want to ride his mountain bike, so he took mine. Which left me on a cross bike. It was great for the first half, but the higher air pressure and not being able to brake from anywhere but the drops made for a long day. My back and butt were killing me. I swore I'd never do it again. The next year (last year) Aaron talked me into it. I was 10-15 lbs. heavier and my fitness had completely stagnated. In fact, my long ride was in the three hour range and that was on the road. I would have estimated my CFC to be in the four hour range. But this year, I brought my mountain bike. The first four hours went as planned - comfortable. The next four were rough. The last two were a nightmare. But it was better than the previous year and I was excited to go again. So, here we are. I'm about 5 pounds lighter than I was last year. I've got a new fork and my bike is running well. I've got some long, comfortable rides in with my nephew and I know what to expect. The direction we're riding also helps. I'm estimating my CFC at around five hours, which is actually pretty exciting. You'd think that one hour less of suffering wouldn't be that significant. For me, one hour is huge. I sure hope my estimate is close. Jonboy and Delena are joining Dan and I for the ride down. To tell you the truth, I'm more excited about hanging out with those guys both before and after the ride than I am the actual ride. Dan commented, most of it sure sounds like a good time, except for that part in the middle. As for food, I plan on Brad's All-Day (CarboRocket) for fluid and Spam Musubi for snacks. Lunch will include PB+J with milk as well as some chips and some chicken and stars. The last stop will include plenty of NSAIDs and some cupcakes to be shared with Dug.

Dogs

I am not a dog guy. This is despite the fact that I've got the best dog in the world, Jesse. Jesse's a Golden Lab that doesn't bark except to be let back in the house and is more likely to lick you to death than bite you. He doesn't even respond when Blossom, the over-eager juvenile orange tabby we have constantly nips at his ears, feet, and tail. This is the only kind of dog I could have. You see, dogs don't like me. Most dogs immediately give me the stink eye with many adding a growl for good measure. What's more, I've been attacked by a wide variety of dogs. Some people say dogs can smell fear, that they smell the fear in me, and that's what inspires their aggressive behavior. The thing is, I'm not really afraid of dogs. Don't get me wrong, an amped up dog makes me nervous. But not nervous enough to run away. I've only twice ever run from a charging dog. The first time I was six or seven and my lovely neighbor 'sicked' his pit bull on me from across the street. I set a new personal best time in climbing from the bottom of the catalpa tree in the front yard to the absolute highest branch in that tree that could hold my weight. As I got older, for some reason I just started standing my ground. The first time I remembered doing so was several years later when the same neighbor had Chows instead of pit bulls. Those Chows were mean. One jumped the fence and ran across the street to attack me as I walked back from retrieving the mail. I turned to face him and kicked his jaw as he turned his head to bite me. I was almost shocked I'd done so. So was he. We stood there facing each other for a few seconds in confusion until he growled and went home. Later, I'd be attacked by other dogs, including cougar hounds and large mutts. Every time one of those dogs would charge, I'd boil with rage afterwards. One particular instance involved a cougar hound that attack me on the street at his owner's command. After I fended off the attack, the owner expressed his frustration at me hurting his dog, which made me even angrier. The second time I ran was on my mission. When I was a greeny, a mangy dog chased me on my bicycle and I simply kept pedalling instead of kicking the dog - you know, for appearances' sake. That little bastard bit me, in full view of his owner. I jumped off my bike and he came in for a second go, this time getting my pants. I waited in vain for the owner to get involved, but instead he looked on in apathy. My companion intervened and kicked the dog to get him to leave. That ended the owner's apathy as he yelled at my companion for kicking the dog. While there, I was also attacked by a Collie (I hate Lassie now, by the way), several mutts of all sizes from Chihuahua size to Saint Bernard size, and a German Shepherd. Chad inspired me to write this with his post about being bitten. I'm amazed by several parts of his story. I'm amazed that he apparently didn't lose his temper at any point with either the owners or the dog. But then again, I've always known Chad to be the acme of self-control. Good work, man. Hopefully these setbacks won't keep you away from RAWROD. As a side note, I think you should let me punch you in the right arm as hard as I can. You're completely out of balance and a sore right arm should bring everything into back into alignment.

Reality Check

I came to some realizations last week when Dan, my nephew and I had headed out on a long ride in anticipation of RAWROD. And since I'm long-winded, it'll come at the end. Last Saturday, despite the windy, grey weather, Dan showed up and we rolled out. I switched my Hillary over to mountain duty. This included moving the suspension fork and front brake from the Rig and putting on some Paul Thumbies/Bar End shifters. We rode down the canal to 1600 N. in Orem and then turned and headed east behind the Orem Cemetery. On the way, the zipper on my saddle bag broke so I had to stuff everything into my camelback. We climbed until we reach the top of Lower Frank from the backside. It was there that my front brake completely lost power. Completely. I had two choices - walk down or ride as carefully as possible with one brake. So I rode it. It was nerve racking and slow. We got to the bottom and then headed for the Provo section of the shoreline to meet my niece. She showed up with two flat tires, which is all the delay Dan needed to head home to take his daughter shopping. The small hand pump was virtually useless at getting air into her Schraeder-valve tubes. The CO2 I brought was completely useless. So my nephew and I got our forearm workouts in pumping up her tires with the hand-pump. After a while, we called it good enough and moved on. After we got rolling, I picked up a whole patch of thorns with my front tire. Surprisingly enough it held air until we got down. The steep descents were scarier than I remembered, especially without a front brake. Luckily, there were always run outs below the steep stuff so I could just roll the steep stuff and stop at the top of the other side. Once we got down, I stopped by Dan's house to borrow his floor pump to change my tube. I pulled out the thorn-riddled tube and put in a fresh one. Once the tire seated on the rim, I started pumping to fill up the tube. That's when the fresh tube gave up. Apparently it had a bad seam. Alika had an extra one in his pack, so I put it in and this time it held. Alika and I started the ride home into a pretty stiff head wind. By the time we got back, we were both completely done. Most days, this combination of things would have driven me over the edge and I would have been unbearable. So what was different? For one, I was riding on dirt instead of pavement most of the time. I realized I like to ride my mountain bike. Second, Dan and Alika are perfect riding company. Neither were any hurry to get there and were perfectly content to hang out and chat while we cruised along. Third, BK's CarboRocket and Spam musubi are great for long rides. I tolerate both well and both tasted great after a couple of hours in the saddle. Fourth, I would definitely prefer a slightly heavier bike with simple, reliable components. I've decided to make the move to cable actuated discs and thumbies on Maggie as well. Hillary performed like a champ for Dan the entire time. I actually prefer the modulation of cable actuated discs and am now comfortable enough with myself to switch to those, even if they aren't as cool or as light. Perhaps the most important thing I realized is that I should start moving my Saturday morning rides to Saturday afternoon as soon as possible. This has several advantages. For one, I get to sleep in and catch up a little on my sleep deficit from the week. Second, it gives Cindy time to train since she's more of a morning person. And most important, it gives me some really good time with just the kids.

That Big Ol' Belt Buckle

I am referring to the big belt buckle you get when you finish the LT100 in under nine hours. Not me, obviously. After all, LT100 is code for "Something Fish Should Never Do . . . . Ever." Who am I to argue with that? I know my role in these occasions, and that role is support. Part of what I'm able to bring to this year's race is a geary rig for Jon to ride (without him having to build his own). This is where my obsession begins. I've got two on offer. The first is Maggy, my trusty IF dedicated mountain bike and the second is Hillary, my do it all cross/mountain bike. Each have their merits. Maggy was designed for a 100mm fork and has an XTR Hydraulic system with Rapid Rise shifting (high-normal). Hydraulic and rapid rise are the down side. Jon also wants a rigid fork. I picked up an 80mm suspension corrected Switchblade. 80mm suspension corrected when it was designed for 100mm may also be a down side. A big upside is that this bike has a top tube that is longer than Hillary's, and more in line with what I think Jon normally runs. Hillary is now setup with an 80mm Reba and was designed to be run as such. Hillary also has disc brakes, but they're cable actuated. I also have her set up with Paul Thumbies and traditional (high-normal) derailleurs. On the down side, her top tube is shorter. I sat on her last night with a 100mm stem and the cockpit felt too short. I've ordered a 120mm Salsa Stem to help alleviate the shortness and I hope that 120mm is the right balance of length without being too long. So, which should Jon ride on his quest for the big'un?

Worst . . Movie . . . .Ever

That's right, I've got a new standard for the worst movie ever. When I say that, I mean worst movie that I've seen. I'm sure there are plenty worse, but not that I've actually been talked into watching. In order for a movie to be this bad, it has to be so bad that it's not even fun to make fun of. Anaconda was a dog, but it was a riot to laught at. Each of the movies described below have no real plot to speak of, only a general premise that never developed. The first movie to definitively set that mark for me was Hope Floats. Hope Floats had an interesting premise, but was just excruciatingly painful to watch. Then, two hours into the movie five different plot lines have emerged. And then, in one non-sensical swoop, the movie ended. No resolution to the various plot lines, just a thinly veiled attempt to cover up the fact that they had run out of time, but not figured out how to end the movie cleanly. It's not that I hate romantic comedies. I loved Notting Hill. Love, Actually is (actually) one of the films in my top 10. Next came Happy Feet. What a fuster cluck that was. I envisioned the writing process beginning with a loose idea of penguins suffering from global warming. Then came a series of non sequitirs. It feels like after the initially session where everyone got an idea of a theme, each writer then moved into a cave and wrote their part in complete isolation. The ideas were then thrown together and animated. They figured animation would cover up all sins and Global Warming was popular enough of a cause that people would over look the fact that the movie was a steaming pile of terd because it was about global warming. It's not that I don't like animated films, Shrek (only the original) was great, as was Monsters, Inc. Then came along a little romantic comedy entitled "The Wedding Date." Apparently, a big time movie exec has a penchant for spoiling his young daughter. The Wedding Date feels like it was plotted by a fourth grader and her friends who were asked to think of the perfect 'chick flick.' What if a guy dumped a girl. And what if the guy that dumped her dumped her for her sister. Oh yeah, and what if she never found out. She could find out at a wedding. . . . It was all over the place. Not even the potentially humorous parts delivered. The acting and directing were atrocious. I dare you to watch this. For me, The Wedding Date is now the worst . . . movie . . . .ever.

Welcome, Keono!

We welcomed Keono to the family on Saturday morning, March 15 at about 10:00 in the morning. She's a beatiful Sabrosa with many wonderful features. The important statics include that she's a 29er, single speed mountain bike with a custom lugged steel frame, fork, and stem. She hit the ground running and had her first ride yesterday in St. George on the Green Valley Loop with many kindred spirits.

From the rear.



And the front.



What are you going to call it?



Custom stem and spacer.


No detail overlooked - check the sweet headbadge. This one was taken inside.


Kerry provided the grips. A very nice touch.

I had built myself some really, really high expectations for this bike. Expectations I could never actually expect to be reached. This bike blew them away. Not only does it look great, but it rides like a dream. The geometry is similar to my Indy, but tweake just a little to perfection. No detail was overlooked. I know I don't deserve a friend like Jon, but I consider myself privileged that he counts me as one. There's no way of thanking for someone for something like this. Without a doubt, this bike is as cool as the rest of my bikes combined. Cool enough that I'm confident in concluding that my bike is the coolest ever.

I Hate the False Spring

I hate this hot and cold weather. I wish the weather would pick a line. I don't care what anyone says, this winter has felt longer and harsher than previous winters. It feels like we've had more days of snow and a lot of those came consecutively. Too many days were in the teens or worse. This cheers me up, a little. Kuhio Bay - I like bradda IZ's rendition. 'Akahi ho'i a 'ike ku'u maka I ka nani a'o Waiakea 'A'ohe lua e like ai Me ka nani a me ka nani A'o Kuhio Bay Mahalo a'i au i ka nani a'o Hilo Me ka ua a'e ho'opulu nei 'Oni ana Mokuola au i ke kai 'O ua 'aina 'e Kaulana nei Wai anuenue a he wai kaulana Wai maka'ika'i a ka malihini Wai kamaha'o i ka'u 'ike E papahi e ho'ope nei I ka nahele

And All The Rest

The assorted and sundry bikes in the rest of the stable include those that I don't have a deep and abiding relationship - which is to say they are the bikes that are neither titanium nor custom. These include a pair of Felts - a 2007 B2 Tri bike and a 2008 F1X Cyclocross bike. Both are light, workman-like bikes that are good looking and well-suited to their disciplines. I also have a GF Rig that has served me well in that it's helped me feel the SS vibe. I have a Colnago as well as a LeMond each of which I hope to build up soon. We'll see which one makes it to the finish first. And finally, there's my towny - a GF Monona. When Brad Keyes talks about getting your dork on, the Monona is the bike I think about. It's cheap, it's replete with appearance-be-damned accessories (like a light and fenders) and cheap parts. It's also a boat-load of fun to ride. So, with the rest of the stable now described, we await the triumphant entry of the latest addition, The Sabrosa.

Hillary

Hillary is my Swiss-Army bike - the bike that can do it all reasonably well, but not exceptionally well. I can, and have, ridden Hillary on mountain bike rides on the Ridge and on long dirt/pavement rides along the canal and through town. She's also seen more than one 'cross race. She's built with almost a mountain frame with clearance for up to 2.1's with disc brakes and drop bars. She can also be readily converted to a mountain bike as she's designed to ride properly with a Reba 29er fork. In fact, her next mission is to be ridden as a dedicated mountain bike this coming season as Jonboy trains for and rides the LT 100 on her. A big wheel geary bike should be just the ticket for Jon to get that big'un belt buckle and I'm more than happy to oblige. So the drop bars are being replaced with a flat bar and the road shifters are going to give way to bar-end shifters mounted to thumbies. Later, Hillary will make her return as a cross bike.

Maggy

Maggy is my IF Deluxe Ti mountain bike. The one I bought after I talked Ben out of buying a 29er. It's that bike. I don't want to talk about that more than I already have.

Alex

Alex is the third of my Serottas. She's a cross bike that Serotta built during one of their semi-custom bouts when you could choose the seat tube length and the top-tube length and they picked everything else. She has a matte finish and red stickers. Ultegra shifter/brake levers, Race Face Cranks, XTR Derailleurs and Red King hubs were the initial partset. Alex and I share one very painful memory that makes us comrades. It was on Alex that I suffered my most serious injury. I was living in Portland. I commuted to and from work on Alex nearly every day. At the time, I was living with B and Coxey while each of our wives stayed back in Utah to work. Health insurance was tough to come by and not something you gave up when your wife was pregnant. I was headed home from work to go on a ride with B and a couple of guys from work. I was within a few blocks when I came to an intersection that had cars backed up for blocks. It was my intent to take the bike lane to the intersection and then cross at the cross walk as a pedestrian. It was a trick I'd learned in a pamphlet from a 'bike attorney' that all the bike shops gave out. I should have taken my chances on the bike. As I neared the intersection, the light turned green. I was already committed to my plan and there was no way I was going to safely navigate three lanes of traffice to be able to make use of the turn lane, so I continued down the bike lane. I large white box delivery truck was stopped. It didn't seem too odd since trucks like that are almost always slow to get moving. As I passed the truck (while still riding in the bike lane with a green light) I realized the truck had stopped to let a pickup come across double-double yellow lines to enter the wrong way into a parking lot. I grabbed two fistfuls of brakes and threw the bike hard to avoid the truck. No luck. The old lady driving had to slow down in order to drive around the barriers intended to keep people from driving into the parking lot in the manner she was entering. The impact was incredible. I couldn't believe I could cause so much noise. The sound of my bike and then my legs hitting the bed of her truck. The shattering of glass as I put my head, arms, and half of my torso through the window in her camper shell. As I hit the ground, I laid there for a while to assess the damage. My mouth immediately felt like I'd had all of my front teeth knocked out and that they'd left the hard-way through my lower lip. I could feel my extremities. At first, it felt like the bladder in my camelback had burst from the impact. I sat up to see if I could assess the damage to my poor bike. It was lying several feet away, and I couldn't tell the extent of the damage. Then I looked to see that what I thought was water was in fact blood from massive damage to my left arm. I knew then I was going to the ER, so I laid back down and started to feel around in my bag for my cell phone. I had to let B know that I wasn't going to be making the ride. An off-duty EMT was there before I could find the phone. He immobilized me and wouldn't listen to my requests to get my phone. I even explained as rationally as I could that all he had to do was hold down number 4 and it would dial him automatically. Then I he could hold the phone up to my mouth and I could explain the situation. Meanwhile, back at the apartment B and the other joked about what was taking me so long. B even joked that maybe I got hit by a car. Moments later a large engine revved. The joke was going so well that they joked that maybe it was the truck that hit me. Moments later, (I'm told) knock came at the door and a fireman handed B my bike and told him that I had in fact been involved in a serious accident and that I was on my way to OHSU Medical Center. You see, the fire department arrived in short order. They quickly secured me to a backboard. As they were strapping me down, I asked the fire fighter nearest me - "Tell me honestly, how many teeth did I lose?" He responded, "Let's see." I opened up my mouth to show him. "Nah, you're still pretty. You didn't lose any" he answered back. I then pleaded with him to take care of Alex. I made him promise. I made him give me his name. He came through. I didn't do any more road riding for the rest of that year, the best I can remember. The fork was bent, the front wheel trashed, headset, shifters, bar - the whole front end was toast. But the frame was still straight. So I rebuilt her with new parts and she soldiers on. Several years and four 'cross seasons later and Alex is still going. Surviving the 'cross campaigns for that long would be enough to establish comradry, but surviving a car crash puts Alex in another league of tough.

Bessy

Bessy is my second oldest bike. She's actually not completely built right now, but I'm working on it. Bessy is a Serotta CHT that was built to Fisher Genesis Geometry. She started out with a White Brothers SC80, King wheels, XTR, and Sugino Cranks. The WB fork lasted exactly one ride and I switched to the bomber. Over time, Bessy took a back seat as Maggy became the A-Bike. I converted Bessy to a rigid single, but only rode her like that once. A rig has taken over single speed duties, which in turn will be permanently replaced by the Sabrosa (to be known as Ke Ono). So now, Bessy sits in limbo. But I have too many fond memories with her to put her away. Those were the days when I had ample time to ride. The Golden Days of discovery with Racer, Red and the man formerly known as Keller. Back before Racer got fast on the descent. Exploring unknown trails up Nebo Canyon with Stu and Brent. Grinning rides down South Fork with Jared and Stef. Good times. That's why I keep Bessy. One of these days I'll get around to putting rear wheel on and taking her back out, right?

The Stable

Recently on the family blog I did a series of posts about my kids. I thought it only fitting that I do something similar with my stable of bikes. So, this is the first installment of my bike collection. My end game is to drag this out until I pick up my bike from Jon. I'm going to start from the oldest and make my way to the newest. The bike I've owned the longest is my Serotta road bike - a Legend Ti. I call her Samantha. I picked up Samantha when road bikes came standard with 1" threaded steerers. She originally came with a finish that was half painted in midnight blue and half polished. I picked up a Shimano 9 speed Dura Ace group with 39/53 and 12/25 setup. The fork is an old Serotta F1 with a steel steerer tube, carbon blades, and titanium dropouts. I picked up one of Chris King's first road spaced hubs. Almost on a dare with Jared Hill I picked up a threadless headset and 1" Serotta titanium stem. The bike remained with this setup until I finished school. My new found weight made climbing a real challenge with even a 39/27 gear, so I put a compact double on. I resisted ten speed for years until every new bike started coming with 10. I then put Force on it. I'm not the biggest fan of the Force, but it is what it is. The Force and the compact double haven't changed the way the bike handles. It still handles like it's locked on rails and is the standard by which I measure every road bike. My favorite ride on that bike is the Alpine Loop. I really like the descent from the Pine Hollow over look down and live for the stretch from the turn off to Tibble Fork to the mouth of the Canyon. Whenever I think about flowing down that road, with trees and the stream, it brings a smile to my face. Many of you will know which part I'm talking about and will have carved that same stretch of road with me. I can't wait for spring.

Building Wheels is Like Riding a Bike

This post is another nod to Greg Reiche as well as a nod to JJ. It's these two, and JJ in particular, that taught me how to build wheels. Greg is a purist and taught me several little things that I hold onto. These little details include lacing the wheel so that the sticker is read from the drive side, positioning the hub such that looking through the hole you can read the writing on the hub (if any), and that the stickers on the hub can be read from the behind. Little things, sure, but they've stuck with me. JJ taught me how a well built wheel should feel. The beauty of inside pulling spokes. How to seat the spokes. Drop, lace, and tension. That's all there is to it, right? But there's something fulfilling about taking a pile of spokes, an empty hoop, and a hub and building a (hopefully) strong wheel. I don't build wheels that often these days, but I can still knock one out in about an hour. Last night I laced up my new King SS Hubs - mmmm, shiny - to some Bontrager Mustang 29er rims. 32H, 3X, inside pulling. They're sure going to look good on that Sabrosa. After all, a hand-built bike deserves nothing less than hand-built wheels.

What I Have Resolved to Do

So here is a semi-public list of what I hope to accomplish this year. I've omitted specifics of parenting and spousery (is that a word) because those are things I try to work on constantly and can't really check off until I check out. So, here they are in no particular order. 1. Get ahead and stay ahead on hours at work. I hope to take the week between Christmas and New Years off next year. This will also make the next resolution easier. 2. Finish Ironman Arizona. This is a big one. The racing schedule is secondary to IMAZ, and includes AF Icebreaker, Lehi Legacy Tri, Ironman 70.3 Honu, Provo Tri, perhaps Battle at Midway, definitely the Spudman, the Provo Half, and then IMAZ in November. 3. In addition to 1) above, in order to do this I'm going to need to lose a significant amount of weight. Get to a truly reasonable and healthy weight. I need to lose about 30 pounds to be on the top end of healthy and need to lose something like 40 pounds to put me in the middle of the fit range. 4. Read, understand, and put into practice the major techniques found in "The New Joy of Cooking." This is my attempt at a self-taught cooking course. This book has a lot of classic recipes and techniques. 5. Spend as many weekends as possible this summer camping with my kids in the mountains. Tent camping, dutch oven cooking, and hiking are what we're looking for. Lilia is starting to take an interest in electronic entertainment and I'd like to balance that out. 6. Ride with Jon in St. George. 7. Catch at least one ocean going salmonid - be it a steelhead or a salmon.

Reality Check

Warning - unusually somber post. Today was supposed to be a normal day. A day in which I spent the vast majority of my time drafting patent applications. It didn't go like that. Instead, as I checked my email on my leash (others call them Blackberry) on my way from the parking garage, I saw a string of emails. Jason Coles, a buddy from law school, was killed in a skiing accident. It's not so much that Jason and I were friends as much as we were friendly to each other and have close friends in common. He married a woman from our law school class and together they recently had a baby. It brought home the fragile nature of things. And brought me to the reality that my tonight would be better spent with my loved ones.

La Sabrosa Mas Linda

My Sabrosa is raging forward. Hand-built and lug-a-licious. And so does my part selection. I've settled on virtually all the parts list - which is as follows. Frame - Sabrosa Hand-Built, lugged Chromoly, single speed specific Fork - Sabrosa Hand-Built, lugged Chromoly, non-suspension corrected Stem - Sabrosa Hand-Built, lugged Chromoly All painted Sabrosa orange with blue lug outlining and detail fill Headset - King 1 1/8 ahead, Silver Wheels - King Classic SS, Silver, Bonti Mustang 32h, DT 1.8 Straight Crankset - Bonti Race SS, 32T Brakeset - Avid SL linear pull, silver Cog - 22T Surly Chain - SRAM PC-1 Tires - Maxxis CrossMark 29er Seatpost - Thomson 27.2, silver Seat - Bonti Race Pedals - Crank Bros., either Candy C's or Acid 2's Handlebar - Salsa Flat, 31.8.

Put the knife down, and step away.

The fear described in the last post about Arizona shocked me back into obsessing about bikes again. Or maybe it was a call from JonBoy. Yeah, it was the call from JonBoy. He'd mitered up the main triangle and was asking me to make some final decisions. Decisions he wanted me to make because it is my bike. Which brings me to my point. I'd written several long-winded pieces about how I try to value my friends and other wandering thoughts. I chose to write this instead. I've got a stable of absolutely first rate bikes - custom titanium or carbon being the predominant theme. A stable I've spent years collecting. Jon is building a bike for me, by hand and without personal gain . He's spent hours on minor details that he could have easily left out. Without a doubt, this will be the bike I value most. It's tough to know how to thank Jon for something so overwhelming. "Thanks, Jon" just doesn't seem to even begin to express it. But I'll start with that, anyway. Thanks, Jon. It means a lot. PQRS (a nod to Jon), you can follow the progress at www.sabrosacycles.com