Magical

Today was the first FHHR since the Kingdom '14 trip - a chance to catch up with friends I hadn't seen in a while (two of whom were Kingdom '13 riders who sadly couldn't make this year's trip).

Tangent: I'm embarrassed to say that I rode from the cheater lot (I didn't know how my back would handle the milk run the The Beer Tree). I'm glad to report that, while still a bit tender, it felt OK and I am optimistic about Allegrippis '14 which is just around the corner. Yes, two bike trips in one month. I am a lucky guy.

The Beer Tree flaunting
her stuff in the warm
evening sunlight

Dirty Penny Gets Nailed
at The Beer Tree

This Friday's FHHR menu included home-made beef jerky, one of Jesse's vegan chocolate coconut masterpieces, and beer "samples" from the up and coming Boxcar Brewery.

The company, the weather, and the low evening sun reflecting off the lake made it kind of magical. Especially the company.

Chris

"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose."
     -- Dr Seuss

The Donkey Never Stood a Chance

Click me. Photo sequence capturing some sort of sacred shamanistic rite. Obviously.

The 2nd annual Cinco de Mayo Friday Happy Hour Ride was neither. It was Dos de Mayo and the "ride" was an express gravel grinder direct to The Beer Tree.

Well almost.

Add caption

We somehow managed to fit the skinny 70' swamp bridge into our ride. This was particularly interesting for me personally with a large pinata bungy-corded to my handlebars. I could not see two feet in front of my front wheel. This made the bridge more interesting than usual (which is saying something). I suspect it was also interesting for Mike (with a teak coffee table strapped to his back) and Kirk (with 24 pounds of Modelo in his backpack). Yes, you had to be there.

Once to the hallowed grounds of The Beer Tree we wasted no time. Within minutes our favorite friday hangout was festooned with a wanted poster of the much feared El Cinamino, Mexican flags were flying, the (in)appropriately stereotypical el mariachi music was playing, and a pinata was swaying too and fro over the trail.

The crowd continued to grow. The guacamole and chips came out. The camp stove was fired up and the sweet smells of simmering hot dogs taco meat filled the air. Mustaches sprouted. A cactus took root and swelled to six feet in a matter of minutes. More bikes and more people.

The much ballyhooed CdMFHHR was finally ON.

Add caption

Of course fans of high caloric pursuits tend to enjoy food. CdMFHHR featured an innovative menu included including guacamole lovingly prepared by senorita Wegman and hot dog tacos with fresh cabbage, barbecue sauce, and organic sour cream prepared onsite by our favorite mountain biking cocinero.

A few banditos stumbled into our festivities. We successfully wooed one with promises of a Modelo and a ride on a fat bike. A couple TBR racers working on their Strava KOM ratings dodged the pinata (and the Modelo) much to the disappointment of the crowd. Boo. And a trail runner so stunned by a Cinco de Mayo celebration occurring 3 days early took a header in the dirt on his way through.

The pinata competition may have been the crowd favorite. I won't attempt to describe it in words, instead I have cobbled together a short video that captures the unbridled spirit of this years competition.

I think I speak for everyone who was there when I say that the fun ended way too soon but thank God because of course we had to get ourselves home in one piece. Which we did.

Be sure to mark your 2014 calendar for Cinco de Mayo (on Uno de Mayo).

Chris

Scene of the Crime

Scene of the crime, we will never be able
to look at that spot the same way again.

February 19 was the Chinese New Year, celebrated with parades and fireworks. April 11 was the local Mountain Biking New Year, celebrated with bikes and beer and jocularity and just a pinch of debauchery.

There is nothing like that first FHHR of the year, tying a bow on the workweek, welcoming the weekend, and looking forward to the months of Fridays to come.

Chris

Clairvoyant

This is the third time I have posted an x-ray
on this blog. I think three is plenty. 

For the record, yesterday afternoon I made the following predictions about the impending Friday Happy Hour Ride and what might happen when we enter a drinking establishment clad in muddy sweaty bicycle clothes:.

1. At Chelsy's it is awkward initially but by the time we leave everyone is asking when we'll be back (this is based on first hand experience).
2. At Crossroads it is antagonistic and it ends very badly. We leave violently out the side door, one person goes to the hospital in an ambulance with sirens blaring.
3. At Station Taproom a couple hipster beer snobs put down their calamari long enough to roll their eyes behind their nerd geek retro eyeglasses but that's about it. Nobody notices when we leave.

The awesome thing is that all of these places are within a half mile of each other, we can make a game time decision on which experience we want to blog about tomorrow.

Looking back I'd say Clairvoyant is not too strong a word to describe these predictions. Let's examine them one at a time to see if you agree:

Prediction #3 - pretty much spot on except instead of fried calamari it was hand cut fries seasoned with black truffle infused sea salt. But the nerd references were pretty spot on and I have to say the craft beers were excellent.

Prediction #1 - again pretty much spot on except we were a little disappointed that some of the original artwork is now obscured by an obnoxious duck hunt video game. 

Prediction #2. No we did not stop at Crossroads which is probably a good thing but the remainder of the night did have some uncanny parallels to the "goes to the hospital" part of this prediction. It started with a track stand held 1-2 seconds too long and devolved into one of those classic "I'm falling over and I'm clipped in and it's really gonna hurt" situations. And yes it did hurt but honestly it seemed like one of those "I'm gonna feel that in the morning" hurts. Not one of those "go to the local clinic in the morning to learn you've fractured your navicular (wrist) and ulna (forearm)" hurts. 

We somehow finished our 5 mile ride home complete with the traditional derby race to the base of the dam (I think Mike and I tied).

It's not easy being Clairvoyant.

Chris

“You do something stupid, you gotta act like it didn't hurt"

     -- unknown

Wouldn't this be amazing?

I've always thought it would be funny to start a Friday Happy Hour blog post with something like "there we were, standing in the middle of the woods after our ride laughing and drinking cold microbrews, when two beautiful bikini clad maidens appeared out of nowhere calling our names and bearing gifts of Red Devil Beet Vegan Bundt Cake and locally grown Asian pears."

I mean, wouldn't that be such an amazing and bizarre opening line for a blog post?


Well yes, obviously that would be an amazing opening line. The only problem would be, where would I go from there? What could I possibly use next week to capture the readers' attention (all 3 of them)?

So I guess I'll just end it there. But wouldn't it be amazing?

Chris

"You guys are awesome."
     - Hiker that we passed on our way home (we didn't stop to argue).

Heady Topper

Alchemy at work on the early arrivals.

That Friday Happy Hour alchemy was at work again, spinning straw into gold. Or in this case spinning partly cloudy skies, a lot of ringworm infested mud, eleven riders and their crude steel contraptions into that slightly magical and twinkly moment of respite between the long workweek and the busy weekend. It is more than the sum of it's parts, but for the record here are some of the parts we had:

• A new bench-cut ribbon of singletrack (it's a big hit, particularly the stretch through a wonderfully scented pine grove).
• Four pints Heady Topper (lovingly hand carried by Kirk from the Alchemist's lair in Vermont) which was malty and piney and bursting with 8% goodness.
• A setting sun reflecting off the lake and making the trees behind us all twinkly.
• The people (eleven of them at the peak), because they really are the key ingredient and without them, you'd just be standing in the woods drinking a beer alone which I'm sure is one of the twelve signs of something not so magical.

You know the Alchemist is really cooking when it turns 6:00 and one or two people grab their helmets to make an honest attempt at getting home on time and an hour later they are still standing there, intoxicated by the Alchemist's twinkly Friday brew.

Yum.

Chris

“Like dogs, bicycles are social catalysts that attract a superior category of people” 
     -- Chip Brown

Wonders

Right out my back yard. I am a lucky guy.

Saturday sunset ride. Right out my back yard, I am a lucky guy.

Speaking of wonders, the beer tree was another kind of wonder. Sure it was man-made and not as wondrous as a sunset over Marsh Creek Lake. But it was pretty wonderful.

A few weeks ago we took it down out of concern that some Muggles might not appreciate it like we did. We brought it into this world, and we would decide when it would leave. We owned it from cradle to grave.

Well it turns out that at least one Muggle did appreciate it. He was out hiking last Friday and he told us so. He was obviously a connoisseur since he even had a favorite can (the Fat Tire Ale). He thought it was wonderful too.

Chris

Cinco

Cinco De Mayo gets started
two days early

Following is a Friday Happy Hour Ride fun quiz, because I am still trying to figure out what the heck happened out there yesterday afternoon...

Kirk didn't like the flower on his helmet because

1. It had poor aerodynamics 
2. It made his butt look big
3. The pink clashed with his yellow Engin bike bike and black spandex

Mike impressed the group by

1. Riding a bike to the beer tree less than three weeks after separating his shoulder
2. Doing a a "too good" good imitation of Mike Honcho 
3. Wearing a pearl necklace



Tequila, because beer and
mountain biking do not mix

4. All of the above

People were looking at us weird as we rode to The Beer Tree because

1. We were riding to a beer tree
2. Our bikes and helmets were festooned with big tissue paper flowers
3. We were celebrating Cinco De Mayo on May third
4. We don't know, nor do we care

The Beer Tree was pruned because

1. There was one of everything up there and we had run out of ideas
2. The cans were fading and it was starting to look more like a recycling center exploded than an object d'art
3. Some people in high places may not have our sense of humor



Fresh Guacamole and homemade
heirloom tomato salsa

4. We don't like beer anymore

It is a good idea to ride the bonus loop wearing a sombrero if

1. You are Irish
2. The sombrero is from Chi Chi's
3. It is May 3rd
4. All of the above

Riding home with a bag full of empty beer cans strapped to your camelback is

1. A good idea because leaving it in the woods would be inconsiderate
2. A bad idea because the stale beer leaks all over your shorts
3. A good idea because the stale beer leaks all over your shorts



Does the pink flower on my head
make by butt look big???

4. Something that had to be done

For Friday Happy Hour Rides we draw the line at two session ales (5% or less) because alcohol and mountain biking do not mix

1. True
2. False
3. Huh?

Log your answers here, the winner gets a free mp3 recording of Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass' Spanish Flea (a.k.a. theme to "The Dating Game").

Chris

"It's such a fine line between stupid and clever." 

     -- David St. Hubbins (This is Spinal Tap)

Culling the Herd

Four casualties of the culling

Trails today were pure perfection. Super buff with no gravy and no dust. I wish I could say the same for myself.

Sure I always expect some cobwebs after a long winter. Every spring is the same. I know intellectually I will have lost ground and will have work to do. But there is nothing quite like the feeling when you reach down deep for a steep climb. I think I am ready and I look forward to the familiar pain but...nothing really happens. No acceleration, and no pain. Just...nothing.

Yes, I've got work to do but with each ride there is a little progress. And that progress is energizing, and that energy makes me want to ride more. And that beautiful cycle of renewal begins.

The cycle of renewal was at work at The Beer Tree as well. Mike and I noticed a few repeats so we did some necessary culling (four if you are counting). To strengthen the heard and because "art must have integrity." Jess joined us with another one of her vegan masterpieces, and we even had a ride through visit (no beers) from Jim, Tom, Martin, Jessica, and Martin's young son.

This was Martin's first ride since knee surgery. It seems that renewal is happening all around us.

Chris

"Art must have integrity"
     -- Mike Riley

Sweetness at The Beer Tree

In the shadow of The Beer Tree at The Overlook

The trails were near perfect - tacky with occasional wet spots - and the Hog Island Oyster Stout was oh so sweet...even better because I enjoyed it with seven other riders including four regulars, one walk-on (Mason, not Jason), and Jill and Scott who came down from Rochester on their semi-annual FHHR pilgrimage.

Jill and Scott were pretty excited to be riding dirt instead of snow (did I mention Rochester?).

Mason was happy he accidentally stumbled into a bunch of friendly bikers with a surplus of exotic beers (thanks Mike for the Genesee Bock Limited Edition).

Everyone leaned in for Mason's USGS download which solved the long-standing mystery of the cable tram below the dam...the one just big enough to hold one Irishman and a cooler of beer...yeah that one. Fortunately it has been decommissioned by the USGS which is a good thing because it removes one more stupid temptation from a list that's pretty long and getting longer.

Bryan was thrilled his Moonlander was getting so much love. I think everyone took it for a spin on the dirt, and the unanimous consensus was that it spun up quickly, handled well, and was just a hoot to ride.

The only one not particularly happy was the brightly colored rooster pheasant who was setting up his crib near The Beer Tree.

Yep, it was all peace and love, bikes and dirt, great company and beer. On a Friday. The magical elixir we call Friday Happy Hour. Counting the days...

Chris

"Oh the things you can find if you don’t stay behind."

     -- Dr Seuss

Butt Ugly Beautiful

Moonlander circa 1969

Butt-ugly can be beautiful.

I'm talking about machines built for a purpose, not an asthetic. Consider the Apollo moon lander. Ungainly and awkward, with strange angles and bulges, it was built for one purpose - to get two astronauts from lunar orbit to the surface the moon and back. It more no aesthetic resemblance to beautiful space ships of popular fiction.

Moonlander circa 2013

Another Moon Lander of the similar decended upon yesterday's Friday Happy Hour Ride. The first thing you notice are the ginormous "Big Fat Larry" tires mounted on Clown Shoe rims. The spokes lace to the sides of these rims which have dozens of cutouts to reduce rotational mass. Asymetrical chainstays keep the chainline outside of the massive tires, and a asymetrical front fork keeps the front and rear wheels interchangeable. Thumbshifters are compatible with big fat mittens.

The bike is so stable, it almost feels like riding a tricycle. Trackstands are effortless. It cares not whether you are riding singletrack or off trail - if you keep the wheels turning (which can take some effort) it just goes wherever you have it pointed, no questions asked. Trail chatter is non-existent because you are basically floating on two big bags of air. It is unlike any other bike experience.

It is butt-ugly and it is beautiful, and I know seven people who were there for FHHR that would agree.

All Bryan needs is a big red clown nose, and he will be a perfect match for his butt-ugly and beautiful bike.

Chris

"Go big or go home"
     -- Unknown

Foul Weather Alchemy

The basic ingredients were not that appealing:

• Dark (5:00 PM)
• 37° 
• Rain and sleet
• Seriously sloppy trails

But two more ingredients...

• Bikes
• Beer

...and some Friday alchemy turned it into pure gold.  It always does.  

Chris

"Oh Goodness"

  -- Biker chick who wanted to pass me in the root garden...and Kirk

The Terminator

 The Beer Tree at Night

According to Wikipedia, The Terminator is a moving line that separates the illuminated day side and the dark night side of a planetary body.

FHHR has been on the illuminated side of that terminator since last spring.  Thanks to last weekend's switch to standard time, this week's FHHR was on the other side of the terminator.  But it turns out it was not the wrong side.

The Terminator Passes
The Overlook

I arrived at The Overlook a few minutes early.  I thought I might hide and surprise Mike and Mark as they bombed the trail to The Overlook, but then thought better of it (bikes speeding through the woods at night, somebody would get hurt for sure).

Once they arrived, we cracked our beers and enjoyed our first Happy Hour on this side of The Terminator.  The feeling of standing in the woods, at night, drinking beer, conjured some distant memories.

It felt like we were getting away with something.

It felt good.

Chris

"It’s opener, out there, in the wide open air"
     -- Dr Seuss

A Little Bit Frightening

Friday Happy Hour was "a little bit frightening" with Mark leading the charge on his new Karate Monkey single speed.  That "cat was as fast as lightning" and even "had expert timing" ... except for that one spot on The Bonus Loop where it was not so expert.  Not a a reset of the crash counter but definitely honorable mention.

Fortune Cookies and an iPod playing "Kung Foo Fighting" rounded out the christening and festivities for four of us at The Overlook.  And that can of Oskar Blues Gubna Imperial IPA (10%) didn't hurt either.

Chris

P.S. Here's one more for the old timers.

Raystown Romp

The Big Ride

Who ever thought nipple-ripping could be so much fun?  Not me, no sir.  At least not until last weekend when we headed to the hills of central PA for three days of singletrack.  The basic outline:

• 20 Downingtown area riders 
• 2 cabins on Raystown Lake
• 40 miles of top-shelf singletrack
• Food and beer for 40
• Enough firewood to build an ark (that's $12 in local currency)

Steve airs it out on The Hydro Loop

First let's explore the riding.  The reason we came.  The tie that binds us.

• On Friday Mike, Mike, and I ditched our bags at The Chalet and went straight to the trail head.  We had driven 3.5 hours for a weekend of riding.  We'd been dreaming of the Hydro Loop for 12 months.
  
  Tangent: Hydro is an enigma of a trail.  It is straight out of a M.C. Escher illustration.  A quick two mile loop the returns to it's origin but is downhill the entire way.
  
  We were full of piss and vinegar.  So we chose Osprey for our pilgrimage to The Hydro Loop since is was the most direct route.  Top to bottom in about 10 minutes.  Railing turns and popping ears, we rolled right into Hydro.  Midway through the Loop, Mike spied a beer bottle delicately perched on a tree.  It was Friday and it spoke to us.  Without a word we dropped our bikes and popped open the beers that happened to be in our backpacks.  Friday Happy Hour was secure for another week.

• Saturday was of course THE BIG RIDE.  Twenty bikers snaking through the forest, down Doe and Fawn to Eagle on our pilgrimage to the Hydro Loop .  It's hard to describe the sensation of riding with a group that big.  The energy is palpable.  The banter is endless.  The pace is fast.  And with that many riders, you never quite know what you will find around the next corner...like when Jim washed out at high speed, bloodying an arm and ripping off a nipple.  Luckily with 19 fellow riders to administer first aid and help with the bike we were back on our way in minutes.



Kicking back at The Chalet

• Sunday was more of a recovery ride. Twelve miles of single track on the south side of the park.  A little rockier, a little rawer.  More variable terrain.  Some great views and a smokin' downhill back to the Visitor's Center.

Bikes with properly adjusted seat posts
hiding in laundry room at The Chalet

FOOD of course is a HUGE part of any serious biking weekend.  And at the Chalet, the food theme started with "PO" and ended with "RK".

• Saturday breakfast included three pounds of bacon.  Saturday lunch was pulled pork sliders.  Sunday breakfast included ham and bacon.  Saturday lunch was grilled pork sausage.  Tough 
• Boxers Cafe on Friday night.  Bikes hanging from the ceiling and college co-eds sitting in the seats.  A great menu and draft microbrews.  Home made mixed-berry pie.  
• Sunday morning we discovered Oreos and sour cream.  Calories any way you can get them.
• The Root.  It's always there, on the rides, around the campfire, and in the center console.  Like an old friend.

And finally the people, the ingredient that really makes the weekend.  Whether you are riding with them, eating with them, passing a bottle around the campfire, or lowering their seat posts, it's the people that make the mojo and the memories.  For example:

• Kevin and Jason (Chalet Black Ops team) who snuck over to The Cabin in the wee hours of Saturday morning to lower ten seat posts by about an inch.  The next morning at the trail head was priceless and set the tone for the rest of the weekend.
• The First Floor Queen at The Cottage.  This weekend wouldn't happen without The Queen.  The First Floor one.
• Suzy.  She brought a touch of class to The Chalet.  She ensured we sat together at the table for meals.  She taught us how to Farkle.  She rode some mean single track.  And she made me laugh and snort beer out of my nose when she sarcastically uttered "is he talking?" as Mike was pontificating around the campfire.
• The zombies patrolling the dirt road.



Eric performs tubeless stress test at the Visitor's
Center.  Click and zoom in on that rear tire to see the
displacement.  With tubes that is a pinch flat for sure.

• Martin, who rode a unicycle - on a rutted pothole infested dirt road - IN THE DARK - to Friday's campfire at The Chalet.  And then home again when a freak weather microburst sent The Cabin scurrying.

Chris

"Bacon tastes gooood. Pork chops taste gooood."
     -- Vincent (Pulp Fiction)

"Word"
     --  Possumrider

Perfecto

Statistics for this week's Happy Hour at The Overlook:

• Low 70s, sunny, and dry 
• Nine riders 
• Two walkons (Kim and "St Pete's" Jim) 
• One foam-padded bike with Specialized carbon frame 
• One video shoot with multiple bloopers and out-takes 
• and more additions to the beer tree (still no repeats) 

By my calculation, that totals up to a perfect 10.

Chris

"Every Ride Has A Story"
-- unknown

Destiny Meets Her Match

Mark wins for most thematic lunch

Where would I be without my bike friends? Probably stuck somewhere in the woods north of Sinking Spring PA.  Or worse, at work drowning in mountain of emails. Let me elaborate...

It started early in the week with idle banter of playing "hooky" to ride Blue Marsh on a Friday. It was an entertaining thought but when a couple of Friday meetings cancelled, it became a real possibility. By Thursday night we had six responsible dads shifting gears into full delinquent mode.

Blue Marsh is one of the bigger rides in this area. It's a respectable 23 miles with a lot of ups, downs, and stream crossings. And it's lake loop so there is no bail out option, you have to be "all in." This and the fact you're doing it with five buddies gives the ride a mildly epic feel. Mere mention of the word epic brings out the seven year old in any red-blooded mountain biker, and as we know seven year olds don't always exhibit the best judgement when they get over-excited.

My lack of judgement shifted onto the big ring Thursday night as I was checking out the bike (tire pressures, chain lube, etc) and I noticed the rear brake dragging just a little. The thought of even a little brake drag for a 23 mile loop was disconcerting so I did what you never do before a big ride. I started fiddling around with the bike (in this case adjusting the calipers). And I went to bed and then I got up and I started fiddling with the bike again, this time cycling the hydraulic brake pistons while the bike was upside down. I should have known better but obviously two espressos had not cut the fog enough to bring out my better judgement, and now I had hydraulic brakes with air in them and rear brake power was severely compromised.

But now it was time to leave so I did what any self respecting seven year old would do with defective equipment on the morning of an epic. I loaded up the bike and I eagerly headed off for my 23 mile appointment with Destiny.

Destiny plays her third card

Well it turns out that Destiny is a crafty and patient lady. She had 23 miles to work with so she cradled me gently in her arms for nearly an hour. She did this so that I would feel safe and confident. She did it for 10 miles so I would be fully committed. And then she played her cards, three of them, in rapid succession...

First she bent my derailleur hanger and let me limp along with grinding gears for a couple miles. Then she loosened the bearing assembly in the rear hub just a tiny bit. She thought I would not notice, but I did. With some fiddling I fixed the hub and got the derailleur barely functional. But Destiny was not finished with me, oh no. At mile 11 Destiny sucked the rear brake spreader-spring into my brake rotor. The wheel ground to a halt with the horrible screech of metal on metal.

The trailside scene at mile 11 was a highlight of the ride. Imagine three guys (that's six hands) in there fiddling with the bike, disassembling the brake, bending springs, examining pads, and reassembling it again. My 51 year old eyes were struggling with the close-in detail work. Mike asked if we had a forty-year-old in the group, and Andy chimed in with "I had Lasik surgery!" Somehow with Andy's sharp eyes and Mark's technical know-how we got it back together with only one part left over (the spreader spring) and we were off.  Now the nearly useless rear brake would be totally useless with 12 miles of swooping downhills and waterbars to go.

Tangent: A waterbar is an abrupt 1-2' drop partway down a steep downhill trail. It forces water off to the side of the trail to reduce erosion. The last thing you want to do when going downhill over a waterbar is to use your front brake...which of course was the only brake I had thanks to Lady Destiny.

I became a better rider during the last 12 miles. I had to. I learned to shift my weight back and to generally use less brake. I learned to let'r fly. I made a mental note to add spare pads and some readers to my camelback before the next ride. And I managed to find "my happy place" (a skill I learned from D2M) on some of those long uphill grinds and the short punch-you-in-the-gut steeps.

Somehow I finished the ride without going over the handlebars. We rolled into the parking lot exhausted and triumphant. We headed to Ganly's Pub for well deserved beers and California Chicken Cheesesteaks and arrived home just in time to saddle up again for the Friday Happy Hour Ride. That my friends is commitment!

Our second ride of the day was mercifully short and not as painful as I expected, and our commitment was rewarded in spades when Don made his second annual pilgrimage from southern Vermont to join the Friday Happy Hour Ride and Jesse rolled in on her Spot Longboard with a batch of fresh baked vegan wheat germ muffins. This truly was a day packed full of bike rides, bike friends, bike food, and bike stories.

Destiny had met her match!

Chris

"I just like stuff that works"
     -- BobG comment during trailside bike component discussion

FHHR Hat Trick (or "Blood Sweat and Tears on the Double Bonus Loop")

It has been a punishing couple of months at work. The sort of stuff that, if you're not careful, can take a real toll on you over time. It sounds silly, but the Friday Happy Hour Rides (FHHR) have been instrumental in helping me put the work week behind me and carve out a few days to relax with my family and start the next week re-energized. The FHHR is a magical concoction of blood sweat and tears:

• Sweat - take the tension from a long workweek and HAMMER it completely out of your body with your bike and miles of wooded singletrack. This is the one physical activity where I can completely commit myself physically and come home utterly exhausted and drenched in sweat and endorphins.
• Blood - occasionally one of the group will get a little banged up. Nothing life altering, just a little mud and blood. If you're lucky it will be you. If you're really lucky it will be the guy in front of you. It jars you out of your day-to-day and reminds you that you're alive. If it's the guy in front of you, it's a reminder it could (and eventually will) be you.

Tangent: How does getting banged up make you feel alive? Well, that scraped shin or sore knee that starts throbbing during the noontime conference call is a tangible reminder of the adventure had - the fresh air, the speed, the laughs, the risk that you took, the high that you had just a few hours or days before. It's a daily reminder that you sometimes live outside the comfort zone of day-to-day life, in a place where shit happens to you. Stuff happening. That's living. That's alive.

• Tears - of laughter. At The Overlook on a Friday afternoon there is nothing but your fellow bikers, some dirty bikes, a beautiful view, a warm beer or two and lots of great stories and laughter. Nothing heavy. We're twelve years old again. Riding bikes and carrying on in the woods. 

During the Friday ride, this concoction helps us switch gears from the workweek to the weekend. It happens subconsciously. We don't know it's happening. All we know when we saddle up at 5:00pm is that we'll return home in a couple of hours exhausted and energized, with the workweek fading in the rearview mirror and a full weekend of family, relaxation, and maybe some more adventure stretching out in front of us.

This week's FHHR installment was particularly notable for:

• The un-frickin' believable weather. Yes this is truly the best riding time of year. 
• Picking up a walk-on FHHR player. We will see if Mike becomes a regular (that would make three Mikes in the group of regulars, I am feeling outnumbered). 
• Our emerging Object D'Art at The Overlook (according to Wikipedia an Object D'Art is "a work of art with some artistic merit. An artwork exhibited for the purposes of decoration or the reflection of social status"). This week Mark added a performance element when he did his imitation of "a monkey using a tool" to make his contribution.  We also instituted a "no repeat rule" to the performance art elements which elevates this from an Object D'Art to an outright competition. 

And if a walk-on and an installment of competitive performance art isn't enough, we were also treated to a reset of the crash counter on the hard charging return leg when Mark tried to bunny hop an 18" log pile at full speed (On most days a prudent rider would slow down just a little before hitting that log pile. This wasn't most days). We already had the sweat and tears in the bag. Now we had the blood... 

...which made today's FHHR a bonified Hat Trick. A FHHR Triple Crown!

Chris


"They say money can't buy happiness. But it can buy bikes and beer."
     - ecards

The Bike Will Choose

"The Bike Will Choose"

Friday was a rare double-dipper. And on this particular Friday, "the bike would choose." Let me elaborate.

The first dip was a morning of rolling single-track at Fair Hill. About an hour in, Mike's rear derailleur sucked up a loose branch and twisted off his frame. Without a spare derailleur hanger, we had to resort to converting his bike to "dingle" speed by removing the derailleur entirely and shortening the chain. As you'd expect from any mechanical, there was no shortage of advice for Mike as he worked on the bike. There was even some debate about "what gear Mike would 'choose'" for his new dingle speed. But anyone who has done the s/dingle-speed field conversion (I did one myself last year) knows the mechanic has no say in the matter. It's all about the chain line and in the end, we knew"the bike will choose." Thankfully it chose a merciful 34:21 ratio for what little was left of Mike's morning ride.


After three of us rolled the single track in The Fox Pen, we returned to the cars to cap off the ride with some cold Shift Ale and talk of Moab, then home to clean up, refuel, and head out for the Friday happy hour ride (our second dip of the day). That afternoon was not my fastest time to The Overlook (legs like cement), but the siren call of bikes and beer (and baked goods) would not be denied.


Chris

Recipe for Disaster

Stan's Miracle Sealant

I have four recipes I would like to discuss with you.

Recipe #1 is for STAN'S Tire Sealant. My El Mariachi is rolling tubeless on Stans ARCH rims and Continental X-King tires. The only thing between a thorn and a flat tire is a couple tablespoons of Stan's sloshing around inside the tire. So imagine my surprise when I found this 1/4" gash in the rear tire which is still holding air even after a one hour trail ride at Marsh Creek.  Whatever did that (probably a shard of glass) would have certainly sliced a tube and flatted instantly.  What the heck did Stan put in that stuff?  And do I try to repair from the inside or do I just keep riding it?

Recipe #2 is for vegan pumpkin oatmeal COOKIES (which by the way go great with beer).  Once again, Jesse's considerable biking and baking skills combine to make the Friday Happy Hour Ride even happier. Maybe she'll post the recipe on her bog.

Add caption

Recipe #3 is the one for the FRIDAY HAPPY HOUR RIDE. There are a lot of intangibles in this recipe, but the basic ingredients this week were:

1. A Friday afternoon with the whole weekend in front of us 
2. Eleven mountain bikers with a passion for fast singletrack and cold beers 
3. A few miles of fast and firm singletrack (no rain in weeks)
4. Assortment of thematic microbrews including New Belgium's Shift Ale and Fat Tire Ale
5. An occasional civilian through-rider to stir up the crowd
6. Fresh homemade pumpkin oatmeal cookies
7. Did I mention beer?

Recipe #4 is for DISASTER. Almost. There are two versions of this recipe, one of which was perfected by Mark on the ride back:

1. Recipe for disaster #1 is drink one beer at The Overlook.  On the way back (while riding some twitchy hillside singletrack), reach down with right hand to tighten ratchet on right shoe.  This is survivable in 5 out of 10 attempts.
2. Recipe for disaster #2 is drink two beers at The Overlook.   On the way back (while riding some twitchy hillside singletrack), reach down with right hand through the frame to tighten ratchet on left shoe.  This is survivable in 2 out of 10 attempts.  

Mark tried the 2nd version and arrived at the boat launch a little bloody but still smiling...and we all agreed that this recipe tastes great and is much more memorable than the more pedestrian (literally) "happy-hour-on-the-back-deck" variety.

Already looking forward to next week.

Chris

“Like dogs, bicycles are social catalysts that attract a superior category of people” 

     -- Chip Brown