Beer run

I took my big bike out yesterday for yet another test ride, this time at Starr Pass. I'm still in the mode where I'm riding it on familiar trails so I can see what the differences in performance are. Then again, Starr Pass isn't really all that familiar to me any more, as I tend to spend more time at Sweetwater.

When I arrived at the trailhead, I noticed a trail-runner dude pacing around behind his car. He committed a minor talking-too-loud-on-the-cell-phone infraction, mentioning meeting up somewhere at 2:00pm. No big deal. I also just happened to notice a Tecate beer box in the back of his car. Probably empty, just for storage - I thought little of it and hit the trail.

My Stumpy's big wheels, full suspension and a 3x9 drivetrain all worked in concert to entertain the crap out of me, especially when I just pedaled right down the sand, gravel, and cobbles in Yetman Wash. I've been down that dry streambed a lot of times, full-rigid singlespeed, and on both SS and geared hardtails, and I always manage to plow the front wheel, lose my line and steer into a strainer, get blown out of my pedals by an obstacle, and/or just plain bog down. One time, I got so messed up that I kicked a frame-mounted resin water bottle cage to pieces. No such problems this time. I think my new bike is going to replace some of the riding skills I've never developed.

I wrapped up the ride smiling, and as I rode back across the trailhead parking lot to my truck, I noticed the trail runner guy was now surrounded by a bunch of other people, all dressed for an outing on dirt. He was now smoking a cigarette, and seemed maybe a wee bit inebriated. In fact, almost everyone was working on a can of beer. As I sat on my tailgate changing out of my cleats, it hit me. I asked a woman milling around the group, "Are you Hashers?"

"Yes we are!", she replied.

I'd heard of these people before, drinking clubs with running problems. She introduced herself as Michelle and invited me to join them for their run. I told her that I don't run, which is true. I bike commute damned near every day of the week and ride trails on weekends, but I probably couldn't run down to the stop sign at the end of my street and back. Anyway, we talked a bit more and I shared my observation that their gathering had some similarities to the singlespeed scene.

The hashers looked a bit more clean cut, appearing mostly to be semi-yuppies, but these were tradition-bound, high-functioning, drunken anti-jocks about to embark on a lengthy trail-based adventure. I've spectated a Single Speed World Championship, raced a couple of Old Pueblos, and been to New Belgium Ballyhoos in Flagstaff, Tempe, and Tucson, so you could say that I've seen (and had) my share of beer-fueled bike misadventures. Nevertheless, I think these Hashers could teach us cyclists a thing or two about how to party.

All the talk about singlespeeding, along with a nagging worry that I might be in danger of falling off my high horse of gearlessness, got me wanting to ride my Chameleon today. BeanSS was down for it, too, but some gusty winds steered her to her full-suspension bike. We ended up doing our riding at Sweetwater. BeanSS was there to rebuild her mileage base and I was there to recover from yesterday, but we mainly wanted to see the wildlflowers.

The flowers were definitely nice, though they weren't as prevalent as we'd expected. While there's been an abnormally large amount of rain this season, I think it came a bit late to really set off a riot. The ocotillos, saguaros, and foothill paloverdes will flower in a month or so, so there's still a chance for a good show of blossoms.

I'm about done with my beer now, but I didn't drink it because of the Hashing or singlespeeding. It's because I went into the other room and happened to see Homer Simpson in only his underwear. Such a sighting always requires a drink.

Gotta' run - a load of laundry and a good night's sleep await.