Free Baja Arizona!

End of 2011

2011-12-31T16:02:00.000-08:00

I made it a point to get out on a bicycle today. I wanted to close out a big cycling year with one last ride. The year's bigness came primarily from riding the same few routes back and forth to work, so I made sure my last coupla' outings were fun. And by fun, I mean mountain biking.

The Sweetwater Trails were in fine form, a little eroded since I last rode there in June, but that's to be expected since two rainy seasons have come and gone since then. My legs felt even stronger than they did during my last ride, though it turns out that no amount of antibiotics or recovery time can change the fact that I'm a terrible rider, skills-wise. I let out a few audible gasps and grunts as I overcooked a corner here or hung up a wheel in a rock garden there, but surprisingly, there was nobody around to mock me for my struggles.

You heard that right. On a sunny, cloudless, 76° afternoon in the Sonoran Desert, I had an entire trail network to myself. I guess everyone else was off buying champagne for this evening or something. And on that note, I'll sign off and say Happy New Year to everyone!

XC-mas

2011-12-25T18:16:00.000-08:00

I got in a very nice ride on my hardtail 29er this afternoon. It's my newest bike, so I was pretending it was a present. Actually, I felt like I'd just unwrapped a new set of legs, because I had strength like I haven't had in a long time. It turns out that I'm finally on the mend from what's most likely a weeks (or month) old case of walking (pedaling?) pneumonia. Apparently, one's ability to get on and stay atop a gear is adversely affected by having a leaking, pus-filled cavity taking up an appreciable portion of a lung. Having de-biked myself for a couple of weeks after a year of hard-core bike commuting may also have been a factor.

And though an X-mas Day ride isn't exactly a tradition for me, the wearing of my most-festive cycling socks is. They're wool and feature penguins and snowmen wearing Santa hats. This is curious because, as an atheist, I don't believe in any of this stuff. Well, I do believe in wool, just not in being a sheep. Furthermore, as a zoologist, I know that penguins are Antarctic species that don't occur at the North Pole. Oh well. My next confusing bike apparel event will be when I wear my "Happy New Year 2004" socks later this week. Perhaps I'll complete the look by wearing shorts from a team I'm not on and a jersey emblazoned with the logo of a beer I don't drink.

Gray Skies

2011-12-04T06:54:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning to the most dense fog I've ever encountered in Tucson, definitely more than it was 5 years ago, and rivaling even the murk that enveloped (and which contributed to chasing me out of) Sacramento when I lived there.

Beyond the pleasing aesthetics of fog in the desert, I appreciate that it's the result of a couple of days of very much-needed, saturating rains. It's even better that it's happening at the beginning of what's supposed to be a bone-dry, double-dip La Niña winter.

In fact, I'm so grateful for the precipitation that I'm not even going to complain that it, along with the cold, is keeping me from shaking off the chest congestion with which I've been living (but not riding) for a few weeks. On the other hand, if this type of weather manages to ruin much more of my hard-earned winter vacation, well, then you'll hear some real bitching.

Overdone

2011-11-19T16:29:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since my last blog because, well, there just hasn't been all that much going on. But having absolutely nothing relevant to say has never stopped me before. No, it's mostly because BeanSS and I have beeen working our heads off and lately, my health has been less than perfect. I've been feeling well enough for bike commuting but not quite well enough for the big weekend grunts on the mountain bikes. And what began as some minor hay fever from the desert broom pollen had, as of Thursday evening, devolved into something viral where I ache all over, slip in and out of fevers, and have about half of my normal lung capacity. I rode home from work yesterday with this stuff well underway and I nearly keeled over at the top of the last climb. When I got inside, I immediately dove under the blankets and slept for 3 hours. Now, both commuting and fun riding are off the agenda until this passes.

But in less diseased news, BeanSS hooked me up with some excellent birthday presents - DVDs of Archer, the complete Indiana Jones collection, and The Pacific miniseries! These were great choices, especially considering my state; I don't think I'll be getting too far from the couch for a while.

And so help me, the next blog will report on a bike ride or something.

Spin

2011-09-18T10:44:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a nice morning spin around my neighborhood. There are times when I like to forego the trail rides and hard road efforts and just take an exploratory jaunt through the twisting, dead-end (and not-so-dead-end) streets characteristic of the West Side. I pedaled by everything from vintage casitas to classic red brick ranches to unbelievably tacky McMansions, sometimes all on the same block. The yards were full of welded folk art, smiling dogs, and all sorts of wildlife. Despite it being a paved ride, I used a mountain bike. Last week's record rains left every wash crossing full of sand and gravel, and only the main roads have been cleared. The ride reminded me of how much I like living in Tucson - I sometimes forget this.

The fact that I'm blogging such uncharacteristically happy thoughts is the result of two things. One - summer is finally loosening its grip. The nights are cooling off and while the afternoons are still a bit warm, the sun angle is becoming too low for there to be any real scorchers. My summer cabin fever is on the verge of abating. Two - the fact that I was even able to go for a bike ride means that I finally shed the moderate case of food poisoning I had late last week. I like hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurants, but there can be consequences.

Now, if I can just manage to get in an afternoon nap, my day will be complete.

Weather outlook

2011-08-28T10:48:00.000-07:00

I have officially arrived at the time of the summer where I have had enough.

A high pressure system is sitting right over Arizona and yet, monsoon moisture keeps feeding up from Mexico. The result is having to deal with sweltering, June-like heat (a record-breaking 108° yesterday) along with the high humidity characteristic of July (dew points in the 60s). Yesterday, the National Weather Service issued alerts for excessive heat and severe thunderstorms simultaneously. I suppose it's better than enduring the wind and rain from hurricane/tropical storm Irene, though some of our microburst storms can be momentarily nasty. It's also not helping matters that the mosquitos are completely out of hand.

But because dealing with this weather is part of my desert rat cred, I went for a mountain bike ride yesterday and another today. Back-to-back weekend rides aren't usually on the agenda because weekday commuting inevitably leaves me too tired. I know my cycling priorities are wrong, but it's just how things are. Anyway, I opted to drive a car to work for most of last week and, lo and behold, fresh legs!

It's been difficult for me to accept that I now need more than a single night's sleep to recover between hard efforts. I often complain about this to a coworker, who, in turn, advises me on the finer points of human physiology.

Me: "My legs (or knees, arms, back, etc.) hurt."
Coworker: "Do you know why that is?"
Me: "No, why?"
Coworker: "You're getting old."
Me: "Yeah, well, fuck."

This gentleman is over decade older than I am and yet, he rides more than anyone I know. And he doesn't screw around with bike commuting or rolling over to the regional park. This guy actually takes his mountain bikes to different places and does epic rides when he gets there.

There's hope for me yet.

WX WTF?

2011-07-10T09:31:00.000-07:00

OK then, in my immediately prior post, I mentioned that I exhibit a bit of weather geekery. Unfortunately, because of a lack of mathematics and physics in my background, an understanding of actual atmospheric science is a bit beyond my depth. It was for perhaps this very reason that I became so frustrated in my last week of bike commuting.

My afternoon ride home is generally from the southeast to the northwest. A good monsoon flow is also from the southeast, so tailwinds are the order of the day. I enjoy the wind at my back, and I've even had a few crazy-fast rides home on the microburst winds washing from beneath thunderheads. I treasure these tailwinds because the prevaling winds in the spring and early summer are more or less westerly, and punching into them for months really wears me down.

Last Monday and Tuesday, I found myself sprinting away from the office, looking forward to some serious assistance from the storms forming up southeast of Tucson. I was also very interested in not getting caught in them. I ride in all sorts of weather but I draw the line at lighting and hailstones. And yet, there I was riding into a stiff northwest headwind the entire time. And mind you, one of these storms caused the 50+ mph winds that sent a mile-high wall of dust through Phoenix.

If someone could explain to me how there can be a strong, northwest wind at ground level when an entire sky full of clouds is moving rapidly in the exact oppsite direction, I would appreciate it. If I know the science, then I won't mind so much riding the drops, pounding my way into the wind.

The only adverse weather I encountered in this morning's mountain bike ride was the 60° dew point and 50% relative humidity. Fortunately, there was enough of a cloud cover to keep me out of direct sunlight, which is part of the trifecta that really cranks up the discomfort level. Nevertheless, I think I lost a couple of pounds during the ride. While it's nice to be at a weight I haven't been since college, I know I'll gain it back as I rehydrate throughout the day.

In any event, it was a good ride. I felt pretty strong, my still-newish hardtail handled perfectly, and I was rocking my freshly-installed bar ends all over the climbs. The rains Tucson has been getting have tackified the trails a bit. And not just the sand, but even coarse gravel surfaces seemed to have a bit more cohesion. Fun stuff, and no choking on dust.

The monsoon wildlife watching wasn't bad, either. Sparrows of the black-throated and rufous-winged species were all over, singing like crazy. Purple martins wheeled overhead, nabbing insects on the wing. I came across a flattened Sonoran Desert toad in the bike lane. I didn't see any millipedes, but I think they mainly get up and about on the mornings after rainstorms.

That's enough for now. As enjoyable as this all was, I think I'll spend the rest of the day indoors, near an AC vent.

Done

2011-07-01T07:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday - halfway through through 2011 - I managed to accomplish my entire year's worth of bike commuting goals. My standing target is to get in 100 rides and 1,000 miles, but neither are date-specific. At 8.8 miles per round trip, it usually takes me 114 rides to get in the miles. This year, after having taken some more climby routes to and from work for a few weeks, I saw a chance to hit the grand early and then, to hit it right at 100 trips. As I kept riding, I saw another chance to wrap it all up in just six months of riding. After that, it was on like Donkey Kong.

Trying to skew my average up from 8.8 to 10 miles per day took some creative route choices. I initially kept up with the climbing but as the heat built up, I pushed the extra miles into the flats along Silverbell and the newly-paved sections of the de Anza Trail by the Santa Cruz River. The hotter it became, the farther I rode, resulting in doing a 14-mile loop on the 103° afternoon of the summer solstice. It was the first bike commute during which I needed to stop to refill my water bottles. I ended up this past Wednesday with 99 rides and about 93 miles - right on schedule to finish June at the century mark.

At 3:00am on Thursday, I woke up to lightning and thunder and shortly afterwards, a steady rain began to fall. Ordinarily, I would have pumped my fist in the air, happy that our ever-more droughty desert was finally going to get wet. Instead, all I felt was my commuting goal slipping away. It wouldn't be the same if I drove to work and hit 100 rides next Tuesday (in July, no less). I decided I'd ride to work, even if I needed to wear a mask and snorkel and put water wings on my bicycle. As it turned out, the storms were fast-moving and by the time I put a set of fenders on my bike and rolled down the street, all I had to face were puddles.

At one point, another rider/commuter rode up and drafted me for a while. I've seen him before and I know he's much faster than I am. Eventually, he came up beside me, thanked me for allowing him to wheelsuck, and asked if he could take my picture. Sure. He dropped back and I saw a couple of flashes go off. Having just had my ass photographed by a stranger, I asked why. He told me he keeps a Facebook page based on his bicycling and commuting experiences.

I got the rider's name but didn't think to ask the page's name. Also, he dropped the camera just after taking the pix, so there may no longer be any unattributed photos of my rear view. Nevertheless, if anyone knows of a Tucson based Facebook page oriented towards bike commuters, please let me know in the comment section here. Oh, and Veelz, this doesn't mean that I'm on Facebook. I'm just too antisocial for social media.

As I reviewed my commuting numbers, a few other interesting pieces of data stood out. My coldest morning ride was 19° during the February deep freeze. My hottest ride happened this week, when it was 111° on one of my afternoon legs. The smallest temperature differential between my morning and afternoon rides was 5°, which means all I needed to change in terms of my kit between the rides to and from work was to go from clearies to sunglasses. The biggest temperature change was 43° (41° in the a.m. and 84° in the p.m.), which means I rode to work with a messenger bag full of summer gear and back home with it stuffed with winter kit. I'm a biologist but, as you can see, I geek out a little bit on meteorology.

But back to the mileage. Here I am with 1,000 miles of bike commuting under my belt. Unfortunately, as I've lamented here before, big weekday miles almost invariably come at the expense of weekend rides, and this year is no exception. I have clocked a whoping 100 miles of bicycling just for the fun of it - a 10:1 ratio between cycling for utility vs. riding for fun. On the other hand, having concluded the statistical obsession portion of my 2011 bike commuting, I'm free to dial it back and save my legs for the weekends. The impending summer monsoons will probably hold me back a bit, but I've got a couple of 29ers (the trail bike I got last spring and a geared hardtail I added to the quiver 3 weeks ago) that are begging to be ridden.

Bye now.

SS @ TMP, then PBR w/PWEI, 242, etc.

2011-05-01T17:59:00.000-07:00

I learned yesterday that today would be about 15° cooler than it's been lately, so BeanSS and I hit the G5 Trailhead at Tucson Mountain Park and did a short loop on the Ironwood Trail. I've been commuting on a geared road bike for weeks, so I took my singlespeed out to mix things up. My legs were killing me, but I was somehow able to stay on top of my gear and have a good ride. We came back and started in on the coffee we'd denied ourselves before the ride.

The cups of coffee eventually turned to cans of beer. I like music with my beer, so I spun a few Pop Will Eat Itself CDs and now, Front 242 is in the changer. I'll have to quit playing DJ pretty soon because I'm going to try and throw in a workout.

Of course, it'll be the very same 15° cooler tonight, so I'll have to think back a month or so to know what to wear for tomorrow morning's bike commute. It's too bad, because I was getting used to the idea of abandoning my wind vest and full-fingered gloves and being able to wear the same kit on both the morning and afternoon rides. But don't think I'm complaining, because summer is just around the corner.

My weekend activities also included reassembling my old hardtail into what will be its third configuration. More on that another day.

Skunked

2011-04-03T08:45:00.000-07:00

After weeks of preparation, I finally made it up to Flagstaff to fish for northern pike in Upper Lake Mary. Actually, it wasn't so much weeks of preparation as it was weeks of anticipation.

Preparation implies that I would have found out if the aquatic plants in the lake's inlet were already growing, providing cover to spawning yellow perch and similarly, to the pike feeding on them. Preparation implies I would have checked my waders for leaks before I left. Preparation implies I should have practiced my flycasting - and especially the double-haul technique - after not having done it for 8 years. There were midges flying around and, as the day warmed, fish of some sort began rising to them. I did bring a 6-weight fly rod in the event the pike weren't biting, though preparation might have resulted in having brought my teeny-tiny trout flies so I could have cast midge imitations to those fish.

But, despite wading around for 2 hours with water seeping into my waders, piling up bad cast after bad cast, watching fish snatching little dipterans from the surface, and knowing I would be fishing but not catching, the whole trip ended up being wonderful. For one, the weather was perfect and I wasn't suffering the early-season heat in Tucson. An osprey - always a great bird to see - circled over me repeatedly. For what it was worth, it wasn't catching any fish either. And the hike back to my truck was a nice resistance workout, given the considerable weight of the water that had filled my waders and soaked my socks and jeans.

After bagging on the fishing part, I ended up walking around downtown, checking out the bike shops and the flyfishing store which, unfortunately, was in the process of going out of business. I hung out at the reopened Bookman's and had the best white chocolate mocha of my life at the cafe'. I dropped by an old friend's house one night for beers. I hiked the Flagstaff Urban Trail System which, in an unexpected coincidence, went right by the hotel in which I stayed.

As an aside, I was not surprised to see a smattering of hipsters rolling around on fixies. NAU students are as susceptible to fads as anyone else. What I didn't expect to see was an appreciable number of long-travel, dual crown-forked BIG bikes being used as campus commuters. I kinda' wished I'd brought a mountain bike but then again, this was a fishing trip and I wrongly assumed the trails would be too muddy. Also, bringing a bike would have doubled the gear requirements and, given my aforementioned lack of preparation, I probably would have forgotten my cleats or left the front wheel at home anyway.

At least I now know what I'll need to do the next time I head up north. I'll check my replacement waders for leaks ahead of time. I'll bring light fly tackle even if I don't think I'll be trout fishing. Actually, I should have known better because, as a teenager, I vowed that I would always bring light tackle with me on every trip - just in case the big ones weren't biting. I should also have a shell for the truck by then, so there will be somewhere to secure the bikes while out adventuring. Lastly, and most importantly, I won't be going solo like I did this time. The hotel allowed dogs, which means BeanSS won't have to be stuck dogsitting Clayton and Dora back in Baja Arizona.

Now do I sound prepared?

First cast of 2011

2011-01-15T10:01:00.000-08:00

It's just over 2 weeks into 2011 and I've managed to make good on the promise I made to myself that I would get back into fishing. Since booking an impromptu flight to Belize to chase bonefish is out of the question, I drove a few miles to Silverbell Lake to put my Super Conservation License to use. I beat the water to a froth for a couple of hours with various lures, trying to catch one of the so-called incentive fish that got planted this week. Incentive trout are spent hatchery brood-stock with worn fins and scabby snouts but they're far larger than the small fry that form the bulk of the plants. Despite my derision, I wasn't able to get even a single strike from any size of fish. The skunking didn't really matter as it was a beautiful day, and there were plenty of ducks and herons to watch.

Last Saturday was a beautiful day as well, or at least it was until a madman caused an absolutely incomparable tragedy at Congresswoman Giffords' event. Tucson still feels quiet and sad, and maybe thats the real reason I wanted to be outdoors, doing something I used to do before everything got so hard to take.

Miscellany

2010-12-30T07:51:00.000-08:00

Twenty-ten has had more than its fair share of bummers, so I'll forego the typical year-in-review blog in favor of a quick rundown of current events.

Today's big news is the chance for snow in Tucson, though I think the more everyone talks about it the less likely it is to actually happen. Either way, it's cold, wet, and windy and I'm happy that I got in a mountain bike ride yesterday before it got this way. I won't discuss the fact that I squandered the weeks of perfect, 70 to 80° weather earlier this month by doing everything but riding.

Today's other, lesser news event was the laundering of my trusty Timbuk2 messenger bag. I've worn it through about 8 years and 10,000 miles of bike commuting. Between the grimy road spray on the flap and the multiple summers' worth of sweat on the back and strap pad, it had become more than a little manky. The next washing is scheduled for December of 2018.

My inexplicable and nevertheless increasing interest in angling for sciaenid fishes has resulted in the acquisition of some tackle and a shelf full of books, maps, and DVDs. Most of the stuff pertains to fishing for speckled sea trout and redfish on the Gulf Coast. I don't have a suitable boat or any local knowledge, so my first outings will probably be to the southern California surfline to chase those species' Pacific cousins, corbina and spotfin croaker. For most of my younger years, fishing defined my life. I have many great memories of various trips, and I'm eager to get back to it.

So, unless something newsworthy happens on New Year's Eve, that'll be it until 2011.

Winding down

2010-11-14T09:59:00.000-08:00

Twenty-ten isn't exactly over but I'm definitely feeling ready to coast into the new year. In fact, I now have way more days of vacation before me than I do in the office (the "benefit" of not getting around to taking a vacation all year - why does this always happen?). I'm also turning 40 soon, and am looking forward to using the time off to start fixing the things I've allowed to get broken in life. And I don't mean just bicycles.

I did the autumn Bike Swap yesterday. There appeared to have been more sellers than there have been over the past few years, including me this time. I sat with my and BeanSS's semi-classic Schwinns, having lost all interest in the Slow Bike Movement. Yeah, it seems like fun to glide along on a classic bike, but the novelty of riding a creaking, 40-pound beast with steel rims and nearly nonexistent brakes quickly dissipates. I was stoked to have sold them both along with a few other items, though by the time I did, I'd missed out on any ganga deals. Oh well.

OK, I'm back now.

Some neighbors just came by with a dog-a-large, asking if she was mine. She's wasn't, but she does belong to a different neighbor. Fortunately, I was able to get the sweet, escape-artist pit bull marshmallow safely back in her yard, though not without playing with her for a while first. My own jealous dogs are currently not very happy with me.

Well, it appears that I've piddled away enough time working on this blog that I don't have time to get in a bike ride before a scheduled afternoon errand kicks in. I do, however, have time to lift weights. Whee.

Feel the burn

2010-10-17T11:19:00.000-07:00

The post-ride burrito is a necessity here in the American West. Indeed, the consumption of one is demanded - in Veelz's words - by the mountain biking gods (whoever they are). Yesterday, I went against the natural order of things, and had a pre-ride burrito. And for this blasphemous transgression of bacon, eggs, potatoes, cheese, and red and green salsa (and a big cup of coffee), I was visited with the hellfire of heartburn for the entire time I rode my trail bike around the trails at Sweetwater. ¡No mas!

This morning, after a repentant bowl of cereal for breakfast, I took the singlespeed out for an acid reflux-free spin at the regional park. I did all right, considering that consecutive-day rides are becoming ever more rare as I get closer to the big four-oh. Then again, the mornings are too nice not to ride, so I down my naproxen sodium and make myself get going.

Keep the rubber side down.

Yesterday was Race Day

2010-10-10T09:49:00.000-07:00

No, not bike racing, but pretty fun nonetheless. I went down to the Santa Cruz Disc Golf Course and did the Ace Race. It's a friendly competition where everyone gets two of the same disc and goes through the course twice, taking two runs at an ace on each basket. It's a hole in one or it's nothing. I went hoping to have a good time and also because the schwag was worth more than the entry fee. My main goal, however, was to watch some better players so I could learn something. The group I was in included a professional DGer, and sure enough, he and another experienced player told me (nicely) that I was doing about 10 things wrong. Despite my poor form, I ended up doing OK. I hit metal once, had some near misses, and parked a few pretty close. I'm already looking forward to the one next autumn.

As for the non-disc sports, I'm hoping to put some knobby tires between me and the Earth tomorrow. My 29er trail bike has a flat, so I'll have to patch that up first. If I'm too lazy to fix the flat, I'll air up the singlespeed, which is the less lazy bike to ride. Go figure - I guess I'd rather ride than wrench.

Keeping on

2010-09-18T11:15:00.000-07:00

BeanSS and I just put in a backyard training aid. Yes, we're mountain bikers, but no, we did not build a pump track. I'm talking about a disc golf basket. There's barely room for it unless we want to put it up where the dogs do most of their business, but then missed putts would have some stinky consequences. As it is, badly thrown discs either bang into our security bars, gather glochids after rolling through the prickly pears, or skid into the other place our dogs do their business. Still, it's fun and I think I may actually be addicted to hearing the chains crash after a good throw.

Despite the increased focus on disc sports, I did just get back from a somewhat-climby road ride. And let me tell you, the new pavement on Anklam between Silverbell and Greasewood is glass-smooth. I almost wanted to just ride up and down that little stretch over and over. As always, most of my miles are from commuting. Other than that, I haven't ridden a mountain bike in almost a month. Lastly, I'll eventually get around to discussing why my new favorite cycling socks are the ones that say "cancer sucks".

It's Thursday!

2010-08-20T16:45:00.000-07:00

Actually, it's Friday, but what I mean is that August is the Thursday of summertime. Starting when I was in college, my friends and I began to celebrate the arrival of Thursday because it was the day before Friday, when classes came to an end for the week and the well-mannered frivolity could begin in earnest. Any excuse to become inebriated, I suppose. But hey, being a zoology major and chemistry minor, I at least understood the physiology and biochemistry of drunkenness. But back to my story.

The parallel here is that August is hardly the end of summer, but it portends the end of summer, just as Thursday portends Friday. August tends to be hot and humid or just plain blazing hot, but every so often, a tolerably cool morning creeps in and lets you know summer's iron grip is easing. September would, of course, be the Friday; heat lingers, but autumn really gets started. The Saturday and Sunday of Tucson's weather lasts from October through about April or May. It's a long weekend but when June arrives, with it's 110+ degree temps, west winds straight out of a blast furnace, and ever lengthening days, it's like heading back to class (or now, work) on Monday. It harshes my mellow, man.

Anyway, I was mulling over this whole seasons-as-days-of-the-week hypothesis as I played two, eighteen-hole rounds of disc golf over by the Santa Cruz River this morning. And even though I'd convinced myself the end of summer was nigh, my shirt was soaked through by the time I wrapped things up.

And to relate one last tale of disc golf-related woe, I played Groves Park on the southeast side a coupla' weeks ago. It was a Friday (an actual, not figurative Friday), and I had the entire course to myself. Well, it was all mine except for a billion or so ankle-biting mosquitoes that had hatched out of the overwatered school playground next door. A bit of heat and the occasional muscle strain are to be expected during disc golf. Measurable blood loss isn't so typical. Next time, I bring the bug dope.

In between throwing small Frisbees around, I still ride bicycles. I clocked my 100th round trip of the year in early August and my 1,000th mile a couple of weeks later. My last ride was my 1,500th ride since starting. As far as fun rides, I've been out twice on my 700c-wheeled bikes this month: once on the road bike and once on the 29er trail bike. I think the singlespeed will see trail next.

In case anyone is wondering, the soundtrack by which I composed my thoughts today was Television's eponymous 1992 album and as soon as I publish this post, I'll be popping in The Suburbs by Arcade Fire.

Laters.

Monsoon update

2010-07-31T09:52:00.000-07:00

I feel like there are a lot of things going on about which I'd like to blog, but I see that an unusual, morning monsoon storm cell has formed up just west of my house. Since lightning and computers don't go well together, I'll need to keep it brief.

I rode from the Genser Trailhead over to the 36th street area in early July with Veelz and a coupla' other guys. I had a great time, which made me think I might should back off on being such a loner/misanthrope all of the time. It's good the ride was so enjoyable because, not long after, the monsoon season made its formal entrance and jacked the dew points up beyond sultry.

I kept right on bike commuting but had to back off on the weekend rides, at least until this morning, when I rode the singlespeed over to the trails at Greasewood Park. And this is not to say the humidity wasn't bad, because last night's rain had left the air absolutely steamy. I did a few laps, successfully weaving between the out-and-about millipedes, but failing to avoid barging through a few clouds of tiny, flying insects. They stuck to my sweaty face and arms, and I came home looking like a gigantic strip of flypaper. In fact, I'd perspired so much that I lost a pound in just under an hour, which is good, because yesterday, I was suffering from a case of what I can only describe as "24-hour cankles". Coincidentally, July is cankle awareness month. Ah yes, summertime.

In between the two July rides, I became occupied by my resurgent interest in disc golf. I was really into it back in Sacramento and played literally hundreds of rounds. I lost interest in the game, throwing only a single round since moving back here to Arizona. BeanSS finally got me to go to the Santa Cruz River course with her and we had so much fun that I wondered why I'd given it up for so long. It's nice to see that I'm just as good at it as I was in NorCal. Or maybe I'm just as bad.

OK then, the rain is here and I'm expecting to hear thunder any time now. Gotta' run.

Nice day (second of two)

2010-06-13T12:17:00.000-07:00

I woke up to a second impossibly nice June morning today and decided to do a repeat of yesterday's activities. I slept in a little bit and walked the dogs (this time with the help of BeanSS) in the almost brisk morning air. I then took the trail bike over to Sweetwater for a few loops. I was having more than my usual amount of trouble with the rocky sections, and I ended up perforating my leg when a pedal strike forced me to dab right into a small mesquite tree. No big deal.

And is it just me, or are there more 29ers on the trail at Sweetwater than anywhere else? Maybe I just think that because I so seldom ride anywhere else.

Doomed June

2010-06-12T13:08:00.000-07:00

I have once again proven myself to be just about useless. As my one reader knows, I am continually lamenting my inability to get out of Tucson and travel to Flagstaff or some other high-altitude locale.

Back in May, some college buddies invited me to take a road trip to Durango via Flagstaff. I was down. My first effort to screw things up consisted of opting out of the Durango leg; I wanted to ride more and drive less. I then decided that instead of driving up to Flag in a convoy, I'd just meet my friends there. Going further, I decided I didn't want to be on any kind of predetermined schedule that depended on meeting someone at a specific time and/or place. Perversely enough, I was also bent that no itinerary was forthcoming from the guy planning the trip. At that point, after not having heard about anything resembling a plan for 3 weeks, I decided to bag the whole thing. I went from stoked to go to Colorado to staying at home - again - in less than a month. Like I said, I'm useless. I might, however, have obtained a valid excuse, albeit after the fact.

The afternoon I e-mailed my friend regarding my epic bail was the hottest day of the year up to that point - 105°. I had ridden to work in order to complete what was going to be my 12,000th mile of bike commuting. As I crested the last hill before home, I arrived at a springhead gushing cool, clear water into a small, desert stream. Unfortunately, the spring was emanating from the foundation of our house. Four days, a dug-up yard, a ton of money, and a severed phone line later, we have a new water line.

Coincidentally, the job cost the very same amount I'd anticipated spending on a cap and hitch-mounted bike rack for the truck - key items I wanted to have dialed in for the road trip. So, even if I hadn't voluntarily backed out, the plumbing meltdown would have preempted the trip anyway.

On the plus side, Mother Nature gave me a tremendous break in the form of some unseasonably cool June weather. June is usually an absolute inferno around here, and desert rides pretty much need to start at dawn and conclude by no later than 9:00am. I wake up at zero dark-thirty all week for work, so it's difficult to do it on my days off. If I sleep in, I don't get to ride, or at least not during the day. Well lo and behold, there's some crazy weather pattern keeping the Old Pueblo under 90° for the entire weekend. Today, I slept a bit extra, took my time getting ready, walked the dogs, and then pulled a late-morning 11-miler on the singlespeed. Can't beat that with a stick.

I still have some hope that I'll get off my arse and put some pine needles under my tires before the monsoon rains arrive in the high country. After all, I can't count on aberrant weather every weekend.

Getting into xx

2010-05-23T12:26:00.000-07:00

No, not the 10-speed, carbon overdose mountain bike components. I need my granny gear and I think 9 speed drivetrains are too finicky to begin with. This is the xx, a band I heard on an indie music listening station at Zia Records, and they've put out one incredible album. Four British teenagers - who knew?

In other news, I'm officially down one bike. The muttbike I assembled last summer now sits in the corner of the workshop, sans fork. Now, I understand that a Tora Race is not exactly the highest end unit, but this one died an untimely death. As I noted back in March, the damper was leaking. I had intended to drop the fork and have it repaired under warranty, or at least that was the plan up until I fractured one of the cantilever bosses while removing the rim brakes. It went from a repairable low-end fork to an expensive paperweight right there. And no, I wasn't going to upgrade to disk brakes just to bypass that broken boss. It's too bad, really, because like I've said before, the bike handled pretty well and was a blast to ride.

Fortunately, despite considerable pushback and a misguided effort to make me feel guilty about their return policy, the national bicycle retailer from which I bought the fork allowed me to exercise their 100% satisfaction guarantee. I really need to be better about supporting independent LBSs. Maybe I should also not buy the cheapest stuff all the time. Or better yet, I ought to stop obsessing over components and just ride the damned bikes.

Anyway, it's not like the hardtail was going to get a whole lot of use with the 29er trailbike parked right next to it. In fact, the hardtail was the bike I built up from spare parts to hold me over until I could decide on a new bike. I'll either turn it into a rigid-forked alt bar test bed or just migrate the better components to BeanSS' and my other bikes. I also have a neat old Cannondale Beast of the East frame sitting there, unbuilt.

Happily distracting me from all of this bicycle musical chairs is the need to prep our new (well, new to us at least) bike hauler. We bought what's basically a 10-year newer version of our reliable little Nissan pickup, but with a few extra options. My current task is to get it set up with a cap and a rack so I can finally go on a road trip instead of just talking about it. I'm looking forward to Flagstaff's altitude handing me my ass. I'm also looking forward to repairing the oil leak, squealing brakes, and misaligned front end of our older truck, plus whatever else might be wrong with it.

So, let's hope that my next blog includes a recap of a ride located somewhere outside of Tucson and the Santa Cruz Valley.

Groundhog Day

2010-04-25T12:20:00.000-07:00

I feel like I'm stuck in that Bill Murray movie, only I'm primarily reliving the same weekend over and over. I lift weights after work on Friday. BeanSS and I then spend Saturday running errands while I recover from the workout (and my job's brain drain). The dogs get walked on Saturday evening, and then I go riding on Sunday. We usually watch a DVD at some point. Throughout it all, I'm irrigating myself with coffee and, bless her heart, BeanSS is always making the last of a package of bacon. The only thing that seems to change is which bike I use; I've rotated through the full-suss 29er, the geared hardtail, the singlespeed, and the skinny bike.

It's a comfortable routine, but I know I need to break it up a bit. The coffee and bacon are not negotiable, but I think I might enjoy a change of scenery. It's getting warm enough in the desert to make mid- to high-elevation riding more appealing. I still have a burning desire to get back to Flagstaff, especially because Schultz Creek is actually a creek right now. Of course, Silver City is a few hours closer and I don't have to go through Phoenix to get there.

And haven't I discussed this all before? Yes, and as has been the situation for years, road-tripping remains barricaded behind our one-POS-vehicle situation. In between all of this riding, dog walking, and generally lazing around, I really need to set aside some time to find and - as much of a cheapskate as I am - buy another bike hauler.

Until then, it looks like I'll just keep on keepin' on right here in the Old Pueblo.

Not too shabby

2010-04-18T18:18:00.000-07:00

A pretty good weekend is coming to an end here.

I spent most of Saturday birding in and around my yard, picking my up first-of-season black-throated gray warbler, hooded oriole, and zone-tailed hawk. It was also my first day in sandals and of course, I sunburned my feet.

This morning's Spring Bike Swap went off OK. I saw Veelz and his son, got a ganga deal on a lightly-used pair of SPDs, and picked up some new grips. In fact, I think I bought pedals and grips at last fall's bike swap, too.

I passed on the post-swap Cyclovia, the Bike Beautiful confab, and the Urban Assault ride in favor of a solo spin around the local regional park. I came home from what ended up being an excellent ride in time to see a brilliant orange adult male Bullock's oriole perched in a neighbor's ocotillo. After that, it was out for a late lunch with BeanSS and now here I am on the internet.

Again, not a bad weekend.

Bike to work weak

2010-04-10T08:23:00.000-07:00

My quads are killing me. I bicycled to and from work each day this week to mark my 10th year of participation in Bike to Work Week. I prefaced the week of commuting with a fast Sunday ride at Sweetwater, so I started out a bit fatigued. The first afternoon headwinds of spring made a couple of the days harder than others. This year, with the City of Tucson being just about broke, the BTWW events were dispersed amongst local businesses. No big event at the library and no schwag for me.

Beer run

2010-03-28T18:15:00.000-07:00

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.

I just couldn't hold it

2010-03-21T19:51:00.000-07:00

If giving up on geared bikes to ride a singlespeed is considered a case of drinking the Kool Aid, then what is it called when you go back? And if you not only go back to a multi-speed drivetrain, but throw in 29-inch wheels and 5 inches of travel front and rear, what have you done with the fruit-flavored beverage?

Whatever you call it, it's been done - I added a Stumpjumper FSR Comp 29 to the stable yesterday. I spent this morning installing the pedals and dialing in the cockpit, then took it out on a familiar loop at the local regional park just before sunset. Whee! Now, what I'm really looking forward to is taking it to trails I've avoided because of gradient, altitude, or terrain - places I'm just not strong enough to tackle on a singlespeed. Or at least I'll take my new ride to those places after I've picked up an adapter to attach the 20mm thru-axle Reba to my 9mm-sized roof rack - this bike is just too tall to fit in the back of the pickup under the shell.

And I have to admit there was an intermediate step here. I built up a geared hardtail last summer and was very pleased with myself for having cobbled it together on the cheap. At least I was pleased until the clearance-priced RockShox Tora fork started leaking oil from its damper after less than 50 miles of riding. Apparently, it's a common problem and the fix should be under warranty, but I still found myself wanting for an all-day ride sort of bike.

I should mention that this whole new-bike thing required a road trip to DNA Cycles in east Mesa, as there are essentially none of these bikes to be found for sale in Tucson and no ETA on when there will be. The desire for near-instant gratification was colliding with the socially-responsible act of shopping local. It turned out the shop was 5 minutes from my old college roommate's house and was, in fact, his LBS. So I did shop local, just not local to me. Anyway, my friend stood by while I did the test ride, then while the techs did the final prep on the bike, he and I went for some grub, a bit of reminiscing, and a damned good couple of beers. I usually dread visiting the Valley but this was a great trip. It was so great that I wasn't even all that mad when I dropped the new bike against my truck and gave the frame its first little paint chip.

I suppose what's next is to take some photographs and get the full-on new bike pr0n spread started. All in due time.

Free day Friday

2010-03-19T08:17:00.000-07:00

It's always nice to have a Friday off. The coming weekend is going to involve pancakes, a test ride on a full suss 29er, a couple of dog walks, a meeting with a college buddy I haven't seen in 5 years, and, if the test ride proves convincing, a trail ride on a full suss 29er. But for right now, a weight bench is calling my name.

In brief

2010-03-07T07:04:00.000-08:00

It's just the usual things, but constructing a narrative around everything seems too much like work.

Weather: Clear and breezy, bordering on warm; by tonight, rain in the valleys and snow at altitude

Bicycling (present): Commuting like mad on weekdays; took singlespeed mountain bike out yesterday to test new grips and bar ends and to bed in new disk brake pads

Bicycling (future): Search narrowed to the Santa Cruz Heckler or Blur LT2 trail bikes or the Specialized FSR Comp 29er; still deciding which best matches the trails I want to ride

Dogs: Still cute as hell

Birds: Latest notable sighting in the yard was a wayward American robin

Beverages: By the numbers - Three Horses Lager last night, Five Country Espresso Blend this morning

Veelz: Now riding a hardtail 29er and, evidently, blogging from a portable device

Music: Editors CDs in heavy rotation, replacing White Lies in the changer

Job: No comment

Photo: Wilderness Trail Bikes toe-flips, presently installed on my 1989 Fisher Montare

Spring(s)

2010-02-28T07:35:00.000-08:00

Rain has been falling over the Old Pueblo for much of the morning. It's been a rainy year so far and the desert is drinking it up. I'm sure the wet weather managed to wash out the Specialized bike demo at the 50-Year Trail this morning, but I'm glad I was able to take advantage of the session they put on at Starr Pass yesterday.

I showed up wanting to ride a full-suspension FSR 29er, but someone had taken it out just before I arrived. I ended up riding an Enduro, and it was quite an experience. With six inches of travel, a thru-axle fork, slack geometry and, of course, gears (albeit a 2x9 with a chainguide), it couldn't have been more unlike my usual ride - a Santa Cruz Chameleon singlespeed. The big bike's suspension sag was almost as much as the entire fork travel on my SS, and I had to get used to the wallowing sensation as it rolled along. I also had to get used to the idea that line choice was no longer all that important - waterbars, babyheads, and steps just disappeared under the tires.

Early in the ride, I passed the guy who was demo-ing the 29er. He was running the bike back to the trailhead after having taco'd the front wheel, ensuring nobody else could ride it. What a nimrod. But it wasn't a problem for me. By that point, I was rolling over everything and had started thinking that my next bike should be something that didn't overlap with my SS or my hardtail gearie at all, a bike that I could ride places that would have me portaging my own rides.

But I'll have to wait and see. The Enduro was too much bike in some ways. For instance, it's a good thing that I spend so much time grunting my SS up hills because the big bike was an absolute beast on the ascents. I liked plowing over rocks and shelves on the way up (except when pedal strikes stopped me cold) and I really liked descending on it, but there's no way to hide the fact that all of that burliness results in some serious tonnage. I'm not sure I could spend a whole day on a bike like that, especially on the climby Flagstaff rides I've been yearning to do.

There are a couple more manufacturers' demos coming next month, including Santa Cruz. I want to ride a Heckler to get more of the big bike experience in less complicated (and expensive) package than the Enduro. I also want to ride a Blur LT, to see if an efficient 5x5 trail bike would suit me better. The Santa Cruz Tallboy would scratch my 29er itch and I'll try to demo one, but its carbon fiber frame puts it way out of my reach.

On the other hand, I've halfheartedly shopped for a new bike a couple of times over the past few years, and I always give up, unable to decide what I really want. New bicycles are too expensive to risk getting something that doesn't fit my needs and never gets ridden, such as what I did when I bought the motorcycle that I now want nothing more than to give up on and sell. Anyone want to buy a 1997 KLR 650?

In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy riding the bicycles I already own during the soon-to-arrive spring, which promises to have an explosion of wildflowers after the winter rains.

Upgrade-itis

2010-01-24T09:09:00.000-08:00

My geared mountain bike sits with a flat tire. Grime encrusts my commuter's drivetrain. My singlespeed alternates between squealing and grinding when I apply the rear disk brake. Despite this straightforward bike repair to-do list, I invest my scant free time in installing this accessory.

I actually need a bottle opener on the trail from time to time, and I was already carrying one in my Camelbak. Come to think of it, even my at-home set of bike tools contains several related items.

I allow nothing to interfere with my carbo-loading.

Blame it on the rain

2010-01-23T07:21:00.000-08:00

I haven't ridden a bike since Monday, not even to commute. The dogs haven't been walked since before that. My job has been nothing but desk work, car trips, and meetings - no field time. The closest thing to exercise other than a bit of weight lifting was having sat on my ass watching the Klunkerz DVD last night. Nevertheless, I sit here at the computer with my quadriceps aching as if from having completed some sort of epic mountain bike ride or a peak-bagging hike. I don't know how it is that absolute disuse of muscles can hurt but if I'm going to be in pain no matter what I do (or don't do), I might as well be getting in some miles. But alas, a series of four winter storms, the last of which is wringing itself out over the mountains this morning, will keep me off a bike for at least the rest of today.

But about that last ride on Monday - it was BeanSS's first time on her singlespeed in over three years and yet she rode like she'd only been off the thing for a week. I'm looking forward to us getting back to our roots, bike-wise. And with all of the rain, our spring rides should have some nice showings of wildflowers. Lastly, like I say every year, I have got to get up to Flagstaff and test myself on a singlespeed at altitude.

Without segue, I would like to point out that the White Lies album, Death, is the best collection of songs I've heard in a long, long time. I can even let the CD play all of the way through without skipping any tracks - a very rare thing even with bands I like. They'll be huge here in the U.S. soon enough.

Well, I suppose I should get up from this chair, sore quads and all, and get on with my day.

Twenty Ten

2010-01-09T07:31:00.000-08:00

Gone are the aughts, and the new year is as yet unremarkable. I made no real resolutions other than to continue with the house cleaning so as to get to the point where we own our stuff rather than having the stuff own us. But on to more important matters, such as those that involve bicycles.

I rode home from work one afternoon last week to find that BeanSS had filled the kitchen, living room, and foyer with her bicycles. Geared/rigid mountain, geared full-suss mountain, hardtail singlespeed, and road bikes - all indoors, just as they were during our past lives as apartment dwellers. She'd already cleaned them up but a few needed a bit of a tune-up thrown on them.

The Rapidfire shifters on one bike had inexplicably crapped out, a mechanical snafu that reminded me of why I always end up back on a singlespeed. I opened the pods up and noted that no tiny springs, sheared-off little gear teeth or cable wire fragments fell out. Not broken. It turned out they just needed a few drops of oil on a couple of the two-dozen moving parts. Maybe gears aren't such a pain after all.

BeanSS's VooDoo Nzumbi, the most hella cool* pearl-white steel singlespeed there has ever been, got parked a while back when its old Marzocchi Z2 Bam fork started weeping from a bad seal. Nevermind that my own late-model Magura Odur fork weeps about as much oil as the failed 'Zoke does on purpose. Anyway, the Marzocchi is at the shop now getting overhauled with a fresh set of Enduro seals and more-viscous-than-stock 7.5wt fork oil. I have to appreciate that a 10+ year-old suspension fork can still be maintained with readily-available parts. And yes, I'm paying someone to do this not because I can't (well, maybe a little because I can't) but because I have no place clean enough to do it. If I opened that fork up in my workshop right now, there's a very good chance it would get reassembled with a teaspoon full of sand, a Presta valve cap, a ball bearing, a rusty water bottle cage bolt and few dozen woodrat shits, if not the rats themselves, inside it.

With the bikes coming on line steadily, BeanSS has gone for a few solo rides and a few more husband-and-wife excursions are on tap. This is going to be a good year.

And as usual, my down time has been occupied with birding in the front yard. There's been a flock of western bluebirds hanging around for a few weeks. It's a treat to see these mid-elevation woodland birds down here in the desert but it also means drought conditions have left insufficient food in their usual habitat. They're here because they're starving. Also, they're competing with the resident phainopeplas and northern mockingbirds for mistletoe berries. That's life in the wild, I suppose.

Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a full pot of coffee calling my name.

* Use of the NorCal term "hella cool" is authorized by the fact that the bicycle in question was acquired and initially ridden in Sacramento, California.

Solstice Eve

2009-12-20T12:16:00.000-08:00

Winter will be here tomorrow, or at least what passes for winter in Tucson will arrive. I'm in the midst of my annual end-of-year vacation. It's actually a staycation just like it is every year - I don't really travel and especially not this year because I'm occupied with house cleaning. And I'm not talking about a few laps with the vacuum cleaner and a swipe or two with a feather duster. No, this is a full-on excavation, culling and removal of 15 years' worth of accumulated crap, starting with clothes. Lots and lots of clothes.

It's proving to be an informative archaeological expedition. I've been digging down through my past clothes and, as I examine the sizes, I can see my weight climb up steadily over the years before dropping down to where I am now, 50 pounds less than my most ginormous state. I was looking forward to fitting into some of my old favorites and I do, but just because I can put them on doesn't mean I can pull it off - a graying, 39-year old man just cannot rock the old school Vans, baggy shorts, Thrasher magazine t-shirt look at the office. I suppose I could wear it on weekends but those days are generally given over to the hiking boots, cargo shorts, wildlife-themed t-shirt look, and there's just only so much room to store this stuff. The skate punk has given way to the birdwatcher.

After I get the clothing situation resolved to the point that everything is on a hanger in a closet or folded neatly in a drawer, I'll start on my books. Whereas clothes horse has a somewhat negative connotation, bibliophile sounds cultured and scholarly. While bibliophilia does connote refiement, books have nevertheless taken over the house and so they too will undergo a purge. I'll take them to Bookmans and see what I can get in trade but I balk even at that, as getting trade credit will inevitably lead to more books.

But the vacation isn't entirely about house cleaning. I've fit in a couple of nice bike rides and the dogs are getting walked more than usual. I've spent a couple of long mornings watching birds at the feeders in our front yard. I've had mixed success trying to eliminate some mechanical bugs from my motorcycle. It's all just the usual, mundane stuff but it's liberating to not have to try and fit it all in around work. Speaking of the usual stuff, it's time to hit the weights.

Until next year, maybe?

Buzz kill alert

2009-10-31T18:02:00.000-07:00

I mentioned back in late September that BeanSS and I were emerging from an epic shit storm. Well, recent events have necessitated that I take the metaphor a bit further. It turns out, we were only in the eye of said shit storm, and it has started raging once again.

The short version, the only version I'll share here, is that just as I was dealing with the tragic deaths of two stray dogs (not ours), out of the blue, I learned of the untimely death of a sibling. This was all on top of a bunch more stuff running in the background, mostly left over from the summer from hell. Dammit, I think we've been through enough.

I've kept right on riding, lifting and hiking because the exertion somewhat helps keep my mind off it all. I very badly want to get back to a time when everything wasn't so difficult, so heavy. To that end, I dusted off the singlespeed, which hadn't seen a trail since May. I rode down to the regional park and did lap after lap on the myriad loops. I'd been commuting like mad all month on a road bike and riding in the dirt was liberating. The weather was absolutely perfect and the desert was beautiful. I rode strong and downed a beer when it was over. The pain of having ridden so hard very briefly displaced the pain of recent events. It'll be back, but I'll keep on trying to overcome it, riding the wheels right off my bike if I have to.

This is autumn, right?

2009-10-18T19:38:00.000-07:00

It was 98° yesterday afternoon. That's right boys and girls, just shy of the century mark. I checked the calendar and sure enough, yesterday was October 17th. It was 94° today. WTF? I know, I know, desert dwellers aren't allowed to complain about heat but dammit, it's fall. Halloween is two weeks away. Enough already!

It's not like I was going to go riding or anything. I'd kinda' sorta' hoped to, but I cut my left thumb so badly with a new knife I thought I was going to need stitches. I probably did need stitches, but I envisioned sitting in an overcrowded emergency room through two or three shift changes, surrounded by people infected with the H1N1 flu strain, only to be informed that too much time had passed for sutures. The laceration seems O.K. for now, but the need to let it heal up a bit (having spontaneously spurted blood all over the place on two occasions yesterday) will keep me off my bike and away from weight lifting for a few days. And since I've already spent the last week with a constant dull ache in every muscle and joint from cumulative overexertion, a little R&R could be nice.

Bike commuting update: I clocked my 1,000th mile of 2009 a week or two ago. So that was cool. I've reached all my frequency and mileage goals for the year, so everything else is just statistical gravy. I probably also need to ride my motorcycle more than once or twice a month, as disuse is often worse than overuse. I'm very much looking forward to bitching about riding in the cold.

OK then, it's time for a dinnertime bowl of cereal, a change of bandages, and some sleep.

Equinox, take me away

2009-09-26T09:18:00.000-07:00

The summer has finally passed, and with it, another season of trying experiences here in the Old Pueblo. I won't get into the specifics, but suffice it to say my and BeanSS life over the past few months has been a shit storm of epic proportions and I'm happy that autumn is finally here. But enough of that.

On the plus side, it's been an exceptionally good month for bird sightings at home. I hypothesize that poor monsoons (aka "nonsoons") stress the ecosystem, driving migrants away from traditional routes along rivers and further into the water-subsidized habitats in the city. It's not the best thing for birds, but it does increase the diversity of species I can see in or from my yard.

Bike commuting remains a focus. I reached my usual 100-rides per year goal earlier this month and should turn over 1,000 miles pretty soon. My last non-utility ride was the typical meet-Veelz-at-Sweetwater jaunt, only we're both rocking the multi-speed drivetrains these days. My backyard weight lifting is no longer an exercise in heat stroke avoidance and the dogs are getting in on more walks in the cooler temperatures.

Another thing I take as a sign of fall is a reduced number of mosquitoes, but a seeming increase in the aggressiveness of the few that I do encounter. I'm a bit of a bleeding heart. I mourn the many animals I've killed for science or mercy, but I give absolutely no quarter to these blood-sucking, disease-vectoring, nonnative dipterans.

That's enough for now. Stay gold.

I'll have the usual

2009-08-09T08:47:00.000-07:00

Another Sunday, another more or less unremarkable mountain bike ride, and yet, I feel a need to describe the whole thing. I always mention the weather but today was a real standout - a genuinely cool morning in August. It was about 78° when I rolled down the driveway, and this was with a late start from having walked the dogs beforehand.

I'm still enjoying riding my new/old hardtail but a little post-ride rear hub adjustment that necessitated wheel removal reminded me of what a pain in the ass rim brakes can be when pivot spacing is narrow and tires are wide. The pain in the ass was accompanied by a pain in the left arm. It's the same story as it is every year: monsoon rains, new growth on thorny trees, poor line choice, sleeveless jersey, cat-scratched arms.

A toaster full of bagels is calling my name, so I'm going to cut this one short.

Slow down.

2009-07-30T18:15:00.000-07:00

A coworker just picked up a 1974 Schwinn Breeze on Craigslist and another scored a free step-thru of as-yet indeterminate origin from a friend. Their excitement over the vintage "girl's bike" bike acquisitions renewed my interest in riding my '79 Schwinn Suburban and getting BeanSS back on her '74 'Burb.

In a fortuitous confluence of events, we learned of the Slow Bike Movement. We read the Slow Bike Manifesto and realized we'd found a new two-wheeled home for ourselves. Not everything in this world needs a name and not every gathering of two or more people constitutes a scene but whatever this riding style is or is not called, all four of us had lost touch with it to varying degrees.

Going back to cycling for its own sake without any greater purpose other than to feel the road surface beneath my tires and the wind in my face really appeals to me. It's too damned hot for anything right now, but this autumn, if you see a small group of riders lazily pedaling some creaking 1970s Schwinns along 4th Avenue towards the Hut or around Reid Park, maybe with iced coffees in hand, that'll be us. You're welcome to join in, just don't expect to go fast.

Rats!

2009-07-26T08:05:00.000-07:00

I have no bike stories for this weekend, as I spent most of my time here at Baja Arizona Headquarters, with occasional trips outside to walk the dogs or lift weights.

Actually, I spent a whole lot more time in the backyard than I'd intended to. I wanted to bar-b-que some chicken so I uncovered the gas grill. As I suspected, woodrats had started to take it over, caching it with leaves and cholla joints and leaving their little feces all over. BeanSS started cleaning it with a disinfectant before I decided I needed to hose it out completely. I pulled the grill parts out and blasted away at the nascent woodrat midden along with more than a few years of scorched food drippings. I was doing all of this in a low spot in the yard, and so I suppose should have foreseen what was about to happen.

I found myself standing in 2 inches of water, rodent shit, sand, burned fat, and reconstituted oil. The whole yard smelled like the inside of the grill. Verging on a heat stroke as I was, I just wheeled the grill out of the fetid puddle, cleaned it the rest of the way up, took a shower, came back outside, and made the chicken.

After dinner, I went back out to find the puddle had settled into three fairly disgusting strata - a rainbow of an oil slick sat atop a layer of muddy water, both overlaying a substrate of charred food remnants. And shit. Bees had already found it and keeping the dogs away was a challenge. I scrubbed the whole area with a citrus degreaser and blasted it off with the garden hose, and I think I got it as clean as it was going to get. Of course, I overheated again and had to retreat to the house. Another shower, and then I was in bed by 8:00pm.

This is all just a roundabout way to bring up my excuse for not riding today - I am just plain exhausted.

Ironically, the whole reason I returned to lifting weights in the first place was that I noticed how fatigued I would get doing manual labor in the yard. I distinctly remember how sore I was after swinging a pick and levering a shovel to plant an ironwood tree in the fall of 2004. I decided right then and there to do something to gain some upper body strength and to date, it's been been reasonably successful. Nevertheless, having done the yard-type work (in the heat, no less) on a day where I'd already hiked around with the dogs and worked out left me completely trashed. I'll eventually learn to better schedule these things in terms of how much I try to do in a single day. I'll also take heed of the thermometer reading before I start.

And for the time being, what I really need to do is set my live traps (owning such things is one of the benefits of being a zoologist) and relocate these woodrats once and for all. If only the great-horned owls I heard hooting earlier this year had nested near our house...

Shifty

2009-07-19T16:43:00.000-07:00

I rode my new/old gearie again, this time at Sweetwater. Having (and using) a bail-out gear or two (or twenty) is a surefire cure for singlespeed smugness. Veelz thinks I've had some more geared-bike Kool-Aid. Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. I do wonder, if I were to leave for Flagstaff tomorrow morning, would I bring the singlespeed or the other one? I'd like to prove to myself that I'm a stronger rider than I was when I lived there in college, but I'm not going to drive all the way up there to push my SS up Mt. Elden. Whatever - it's nice to have options.

But first things first - we still need to be a two-car household before I can take our current pickup to a shop to get its myriad mechanical problems addressed. Maybe then BeanSS and I can bug out of here with less of a chance of coming home early in a tow truck. I've known this for a while and yet I ride my bicycle to work day after day, never bothering to look for this supposedly necessary second vehicle.

To be fair, free time has been in short supply lately. I took one of our dogs to a veterinary cardiologist in Gilbert (for a great big false alarm - whew!), returned to the office the next morning and promptly worked 10 days straight. A few more unplanned-for things went down at home and now it's right back to work, facing an enormous backlog at that. I'd feel a bit put off by being stuck in the Old Pueblo but mountain biking at high altitude during Monsoon season - which often features massive lightning storms - is a bit of a high-risk behavior anyway. Maybe being trapped here with the heat and humidity isn't so bad. No it is bad, but I just can't do anything about it right now.

Another thing about which I can talk but do nothing is the weather, which at this very moment, is bringing microbursts of rain and, more importantly, computer-ruining power outages and surges. And with that sentence, it is time to leave the Web and shut this thing down.

Sunday ride

2009-07-05T09:05:00.001-07:00

The new hardtail is shaking out nicely. I rode it to work once last week but it took until this morning to finally get it on dirt - nothing epic, just a few loops 'round the local regional park. I'd set the fork's preload to the factory recommended pressure and it seemed perfect, though I did twiddle the rebound damping knob a bit. I expect a few more adjustments will be required as it breaks in. Most of the controls were already where I wanted them. I'd eyeballed the cockpit into a slightly lower and longer profile relative to my SS, and it came out really well. I felt like I'd been riding the bike for years instead of having let it sit for years. I finished the test ride with 7.77 miles (jackpot!) on the cyclometer though I have to admit I did derby around in the driveway a bit to obtain the numerically alliterative mileage.

You can read posts on one forum after another about how you have to learn to ride differently on a singlespeed. Well, it's the same sort of thing going back the other way, too. I'm hoping that all the time spent on the SS has given me a little bit better sense of momentum and flow and that I'll be able to take advantage of the 23 extra gears I have now. I say I'm hoping this will happen because that's not how it went down this morning. I didn't really ride any faster and I didn't flash any more climbs. All I did was ride all the same stuff with a steady cadence rather than alternating between being spun out on descents and stomping out low RPMs on the climbs. I used the gears to bail out my tired legs, not to speed things up.

I'd like to blame my inability to increase my velocity on the weather. The monsoon season arrived in earnest late last week, with Tucson's left side experiencing an absolute turd-floater of a rainstorm just before sunset on Thursday, followed by a second hard rain over the saturated soils on Friday night. This morning's air was dense and humid, like I was riding through soup. Unfortunately, the sweltering conditions were really no excuse because the moisture actually made the trail surfaces feel more consolidated and faster. Mud? No. The kind of mud that sucks at tires and accumulates on frames requires organic and/or clayey soil. The trails at Greasewood Park are more or less mineral, composed almost entirely of rocks ranging in size from sand to pebbles to cobbles to bedrock outcrops. No, as is typically the case, I rode slow because I ride slow.

I did have to thread a somewhat sinuous and therefore more lengthy path, as the rain got the millipedes out in force. I counted a baker's dozen on my first lap and I'm enough of a bleeding heart that I do truly seek to avoid running over them. There were also assorted lizards out partaking of the explosion of insects and the rodents were keying in on the rain-fed bounty of seeds and tender new shoots put out by the desert plants. There was an American kestrel on station in the middle of it all, and I flushed a lesser nighthawk from its daytime ground roost. Oh, and a coyote crossed the trail in front of me. I always enjoy watching animals, even if I have to do it through a pair of steamed-up sunglasses, with sweat dripping into and stinging my eyes.

My new old bike

2009-06-28T12:39:00.000-07:00

This is my circa 2003 hardtail, rebuilt and ready to rock. I never rode this bike very often, favoring my singlespeed for all but the longest or most-technical rides. It last saw dirt on New Year's Eve, 2004, and I rode it one last time the following May during Bike to Work Week. Later that year, I stole the bottom bracket and crankarms from this bike to build a new singlespeed. I eventually picked up some replacement crankarms at a bike swap and mail-ordered a new BB, but I was never motivated to get the old gearie running again. It handled O.K., but never as well as well as either of my singles, and I just didn't really miss the ability to shift.

I've been kinda-sorta' looking for a new bicycle for the past month or so. One week I want a 5 by 5 trail bike, the next week it's a hardtail 29er. Or should I be a pioneer and get a bike with 650B wheels and alternative handlebars? While the searching has been fun, I've not yet felt like pulling the trigger on anything. Decent rides are damned expensive and more than once, I've bought bikes that eventually turned out to be wrong for me. There's also the possibility that I'll still want to ride my SS all of the time.

I decided that scratching the new bike itch could be accomplished pretty readily by getting the old hardtail rolling again. I cleaned the frame of over 4 years of accumulated dust, cobwebs, and woodrat urine - yes, that's what I said - and installed the replacement drivetrain parts. The suspension fork I had on it originally was painfully low end and lacked any sort of quick adjustability, so I upgraded to something nicer. I swapped out a few cockpit parts in hopes of curing the handling issues, bolted up some other bits that were floating around in the great component gyre in my workshop and voila, I'm back in the geared-bike business.

I'll probably ride it to work a day or two this week. Weather permitting, I may even take it through the regional park on the way home so I can dial my suspension settings. I would not be surprised if the tires, cable housings, brake pads, or other non-metallic parts spontaneously disintegrate from the years of exposure and disuse. If I hear any truly strange sounds, I'll pull the seatpost and release whatever critters may have taken up residence in the frame tubes as the BB shell sat open for all that time.

It's definitely a mongrel, component-wise, but I think I'm going to like riding it for the first time. Again.

Hey, June.

2009-06-26T14:31:00.000-07:00

No sooner had I said that Tucson might miss out on the ole' June inferno than the thermometer got stuck at 101° three afternoons in a row earlier this week. Despite having a perfectly serviceable motorcycle on standby for just this eventuality, I went ahead and bike commuted right through it, and into the sultry pre-monsoonal days that followed. You see, I've once again pledged my unwavering loyalty to my commuting statistics.

I keep saying I won't do this, that I'll back off and chillax a bit. I vow to trade the pushbike for the motorbike during the week so I can pedal harder on the weekends. I never do. I've come to the conclusion that I more or less enjoy biking back and forth to work. The rides serve as an airlock of sorts; the morning trip helping me mentally prepare for another day trapped in an office and the ride home - a climby one at that - helping me decompress a bit. Any residual job stress gets worked out on the weight bench. I've also met BeanSS for lunch several times over the past few weeks, and that's been real nice, too.

I really need to get off of the bitching about the warmth and work. There's actually a certain soul-cleansing aspect to riding in the summer afternoon heat, and it helps acclimatize me for those times when I don't manage to hit the trail before dawn or my rides run long due to a puncture or mechanical. Besides, as happened today, riding a motorcycle leaves me drenched in sweat to almost the same extent as bicycling. Sure, there's no hammering away at the pedals and more speed is just a twist of the wrist away, but straddling a scalding hot engine, pipe, and radiators while wearing long pants, boots, an armored jacket, long gloves and a full-face helmet - all with the sun beating down - isn't exactly like sitting in a tub of ice water.

New topic.

My late-onset pinkeye is behind me but my most-recent teen malady was having experienced an inexplicable bout of acne last week. WTF? Again, I am 38 years old, and this is not what I envision when I think of having a second childhood. I also journeyed back to my college (and early married) years by drinking everything in the house last Friday. It served the purpose of getting rid of a sixer of a brew I didn't quite like anyway but on the other hand, I can't say I'm dying to immediately replenish the household beer supply. I'll make the briefest mention of the 2010 Arizona Singlespeed USA event - venue TBD - and hope I have my drinking legs back in time.

Another new topic.

I've had the Yeah Yeah Yeahs Show Your Bones album and their Is Is EP playing in another window as I've typed up this post. I'd run through the album at a listening station when it came out three years ago and nothing really grabbed me. I'd never even heard about the EP. I bought copies of both at Zia Records a few weeks ago and holy smokes, there are some great tracks in there. Considered with the older and newer parts of their catalog, it's enough to get the Yeah Yeah Yeahs into a permanent position on my Desert Island Ten Best Most Favorite Bands List. And as long as I'm on the subject, here's the list as it stands today, in no particular order, and with my ill-informed one-liners tacked on.

1. Midnight Oil (excluding their final two, after-the-shark-jump albums)
2. The Pixies (still hearing their influence everywhere, even now)
3. Pop Will Eat Itself (aka PWEI, RIP in either case)
4. Sheep on Drugs (effed-up apocalyptic dance music)
5. Adorable (out-of-print but there's a recent greatest hits comp)
6. Interpol (liking them more with each album)
7. Yeah Yeah Yeahs (Karen OMFG)

Numbers 8 through 10 remain in constant flux. Catherine Wheel and U2 are strong candidates for numbers 8 and 9. New Order, the Stone Roses, Curve, the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the Kings of Leon rotate in and out of the 10-slot depending on my listening preferences at the moment. Strangely, while U2 and the Chili Peppers have expansive catalogs and are still recording, the Stone Roses made the list on the strength of a single epic album (the early, self-titled full-length effort, not their absolutely unlistenable Second Coming). I'd like to have a ska or reggae outfit in there but my tastes range too widely to pick a single artist. There's no punk rock in there and that's not right, either - maybe the Hives or PIL. A new band could show up tomorrow and change everything.

Well, as much as I'd like to blog about bikes, beer, and Music I Like, BeanSS is back from work. Having brought home the bacon, she now wants to trade it for some Mexican food.

Later Schraeder.

Weather. Or not.

2009-06-12T08:09:00.000-07:00

I cannot believe what great weather we've had this month. June is usually when it starts getting pinned at 100° or more. It may get into triple digits yet, but for several weeks now, Tucson really hasn't gone much past the mid-90s. Better yet, the early mornings have been in the mid-60s - cool nights usually end in June, too. With the Mexican Monsoon projected to arrive early and with plenty of rain, the Old Pueblo may be able to avoid the century mark for an appreciable part of the early summer.

All this nice weather has somewhat tempered the onset of cabin fever (desert dwellers get it in summer, not winter) and as a result, I've still not made it out of town for anything adventurous. Nevertheless, I still feel a pretty strong desire to get out of here eventually, and the fact that BeanSS and I are finally in a position to get a second car will help with that. And oh, but I do need the help.

A while back, I vowed to focus more on having fun in life. Later, I blogged about how I needed to dwell less on my frustrations with my job. It's been just over two years since that first post and I feel like I've largely failed on both accounts. So once again, I am stating for the record that I will restore my work-life balance, I will get the fuck out my job rut, and I will search continually for joyful distractions from it all. Oh, and here's a new one: I will endeavor to stop complaining about having a job that is conveniently close to home and with full benefits while much of the Nation's economy is in a shambles. The list of unflattering terms that describe me (i.e. curmudgeon, biocrat, singlespeeder, etc.) is already long enough with adding ingrate to it.

Young and old

2009-05-31T08:30:00.000-07:00

When I moved to Tucson, I was a relatively spry 32 years of age. Despite my status as a complete lardass, I could still bike down on the singlespeed and beer up with the microbrews with some level of abandon. I'm now 38, and despite weighing about 40 pounds less than I did then, I am nevertheless mortified that I am beginning to experience the vanguards of middle age such as a fragile spine and occasional knee pain. It takes more than a half day to recover from a hard bike ride. Dosing with Ibuprofen prevents me from imbibing. I'm skipping over the gray hair phase and going directly to white. My eyebrows are getting out of control and what is with this ear hair?

But there's still hope.

Late last week, I was very pleased to find that I had contracted conjunctivitis, aka pinkeye. Its something typically associated with being in your teen years, not the years where you're old enough to have a teenager (which I don't, thank Jah). I may be developing an early-stage geezer body, but I've got the eyes of a millennial, dammit! Or at least I will once they clear up. This gives me hope that I can move gracefully through my impending midlife crisis and then eventually make a seamless transition into being a gnarly old dude.

In more immediate news (i.e. this morning), Sweetwater's cool air and largely empty trails were absolutely wonderful. I followed my short trail ride with an even-shorter dog walk. Unfortunately, I split with the dogs without realizing BeanSS wanted to go with us. She's now out hiking solo in the steadily building warmth, but she's also getting the kind of workout one can only get when they don't need to stop every 10 feet to let the dogs sniff this or pee on that.

Now its back to the eye drops for me.

Only by the night

2009-05-24T21:33:00.000-07:00

I'm just now back from a nice little night ride over at Greasewood Park. This evening's featured nocturnal animal sightings included lesser nighthawks flushing from the trail and millipedes doing whatever it is they do for kicks. I usually only see millipedes out and about during the monsoon season, but maybe they were responding to the aberrant couple of days of rain we had earlier this week. I also saw what I think were some kind of pocket mice. Or maybe they were cactus mice. I don't know, I was moving along kinda' quickly.

The night ride was partly to avoid the resurgent heat and partly because my sleep patterns are still messed up after an out-and-back trip to the Valley on Tuesday to see the Kings of Leon at the Mesa Amphitheater. It was a great concert, but the whole adventure threw a warp into my schedule that's only now starting to settle down. I'm too old for this shit.

Speaking of circadian rhythms, I'd better sign off and get to bed at a reasonable hour so I can get up and walk the dogs in the morning. I've got to get them out early rather than late because I'm not sure they'd appreciate birds, arthropods, and rodents in quite the same way I do.

Motivation

2009-05-16T09:10:00.000-07:00

Veelz called yesterday afternoon to see if I was up for a night ride. I said no, thanks, my back was still sore from last Sunday. That was a true statement. I then said that until I felt better, I was going to be a roadie. That was not a true statement. I had no intention whatsoever of riding my road bike and, in fact, had planned to pretty much laze around for most of the weekend.

And laze I did. I'd already spent 3 hours birding in the front yard before lunch. Veelz's call came at the end of a wonderful 2-hour afternoon nap. And yet the little white lie festered for the rest of the afternoon, overnight, and right into my dog walk this morning. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I aired up the skinny tires and went out for a brief ride, thus making good on my statement about riding the road and short-circuiting my plans for a weekend of sloth.

But of course, I am not now nor have I ever been an actual roadie, and no amount of pavement can ever substitute for a trail ride. But it's also getting to the point that no amount of saguaro-lined singletrack, no matter how sweet, can substitute for a pine tree-lined singletrack. I have got to get to Flagstaff, Silver City - anywhere I can hear my knobbies crunching pine needles rather than crushing rock. Yeah, I'm back to bitching about needing a road trip. And I'm going to keep bitching about it until I can actually make it happen.

So is that a promise or just another lie? We shall see.

Singletrack, bad back, flapjacks

2009-05-10T11:37:00.000-07:00

Just as I'd hoped for yesterday - up before dawn, bike in the back of the truck, and a few laps on the bunny loops at Sweetwater. It took a while for my legs to feel like they were with the program but I set a new record for fewest coughs per hour. In fact, I may finally be kicking this stuff - just in time to head back to work tomorrow. Whee.

The primary bummer was that I somehow wrenched my lower back while out on the trail, but it's nothing that a little Ibuprofen and some wincing won't handle. Plus, it gives me a reason to put off weight lifting for another day and instead read the Spine Owner's Manual article in the latest Dirt Rag.

I got back home in time for a quick couple of walks around the block with BeanSS and the dogs - inflexible spine and all - and then it was pancakes, sausage, and scrambled eggs for breakfast. I know I can't eat like that every day, or every weekend for that matter, but it was nice to not have to have my millionth bowl of cereal.

Now, it's off to the movies.

Forked

2009-05-09T09:19:00.000-07:00

I am so happy that it is finally Saturday. I spent much the work week testing the hypothesis that it is possible for me to be so thoroughly bored that I actually slip involuntarily into a state of unconsciousness. What's more likely the case is that I'm getting overly fatigued by my lingering sickness (3 weeks today), the sleep lost to nighttime coughing jags, and three afternoons of bike commuting in the summer-like heat. That still doesn't mean I'm not bored, but it could better explain the repeated, though brief entries into a torpor-like state.

Despite feeling overall like warmed over crap, I at least start each day with a little burst of energy. This morning, I took the dogs out for a nice walk right after sunrise, and then got my newly repaired fork bolted up. I'm a bit curious as to why the rebound damper knob is now far more difficult to turn than before, but I'm hoping that twisting tightness equates with oil tightness.

Since everything was already more or less dialed in from before, the installation went pretty quickly. At one point, I noticed that a headset seal was missing. I then remembered picking up a random skinny washer-type thingy from my workshop floor the other day. I figured it was something a woodrat had dragged in but I set it aside anyway. Turns out it was the missing seal. I'm just glad I found it before the woodrat decided to actually haul it away and cache it. And I really need to trap and relocate those rats because the turd piles are reaching epic proportions, and that doesn't even include the volume of the dog logs they've carried in there. Hmm, maybe that is why I can't breathe - is hantavirus endemic to southeast Arizona?

Also, of all things, I had some trouble with the zip ties I was using to secure the front cable housing and the wires for my cyclo-computer. I couldn't find the jumbo bag of electrician's wire ties that I've been using for years, so I grabbed a few out of an assortment I found in one of those bins of el cheapo tools at the auto parts store. Every one of the cut-rate ties snapped just as it was being pulled tight. I would not have imagined that there are such things as high-end zip ties and low-end zip ties. Next time, I think I'll spend the extra 50 cents and get the nice ones.

Anyway, my singlespeed is now ready to ride, though no matter how precise I endeavor to be, I will invariably find the handlebars out of whack in relation to the front wheel. I'm going to spend the rest of the day trying to convince myself that I will evict whatever the hell is living in my lungs, get a good night's sleep, and be able to make an attempt at the two easiest loops at Sweetwater tomorrow.

Fluids

2009-05-05T18:45:00.000-07:00

My suspension fork came back from the manufacturer, and it's once again full of oil and working properly. I wish there was somewhere I could send my lungs for service. They're also full of something and are definitely not functioning. It'll reach 100º later this week, so it looks like this lingering chest congestion crap has managed to take out the last few days of the nice spring weather. At least the mornings are still cool. Anyway, I've been pavement-bound for a few weeks and I'm looking forward to getting out on some trails, air temperature notwithstanding. And dammit, I have got to get up to Flagstaff this summer so I can test myself on a singlespeed at altitude.

So, can we all tell that I've switched my obsession du jour from fishing back over bicycling? I still want to get out and fish but one simple fact remains: bicycling is instant gratification while fishing requires a road trip. Gas is cheaper these days but I only have so much time away from work, and I'd rather not spend it all in a car.

But didn't I just say I wanted to ride in Flagstaff? There's 5 or 6 hours in a car - each way. The simple answer is that Flagstaff's mountain biking is some of the best in the west, while southeast Arizona's fishing scene is a more or less a joke. There you have it.

Either way, I'm looking forward to whatever adventures may happen this summer.

Gassed

2009-04-18T15:16:00.000-07:00

My lungs are toast because I rode my bicycle to work all week. Yes, it was Bike to Work week and I usually fully commit to it, but this year, my full participation was actually necessitated by a fuel system breakdown on my motorcycle.

At any rate, after pedaling into out-of-control headwinds and inhaling what felt like cubic yards of dust and pollen for five days, I can feel a head cold type of thing coming on. Worse yet, in replacing the fuel tap gasket on my motorcycle, I poured a good bit of gasoline on my hands. I've never found a soap or cleaner that would get rid of the smell of gas, and huffing the residual vapors seems to be making my lungs feel even worse. At least I'll have an alternate set of wheels in case I get too sick to ride a bicycle.

But I won't get that sick, dammit.

I'm hoping a day or two off the bicycle and good night's sleep will let me beat back this respiratory crap because the Bike Swap is tomorrow. I always make the Bike Swap. Also, I'm convinced I've been able to avoid getting sick in the past by willpower alone, and that's what I intend to do now.

And despite the fatigue and nascent lung mung, the week of commuting went pretty well. With my mountain bike fork still down (it'll go back under warranty soon), riding to and from work was my best chance to get in some rides before the heat settles in. The Bike Fest on Friday was fun like it always is - I may be a misanthrope but it's good to hang with other bike commuters. Also, I'll ride anywhere if there's free coffee and muffins, not to mention choice swag.

It's time to go make lunch, digest a little, then go lift some weights. See? If I'm working out, then I must not be sick, right? Right. I've got to believe.

Vernal Pause (aka Spring Break)

2009-04-03T10:20:00.000-07:00

I've been participating in what I feel is a well-deserved vacation all week. I haven't accomplished much but I didn't really have any plans in the first place. In fact, I only put in for the leave a little while ago when I looked at my calendar and saw an entire week during which no meetings or trips were scheduled. I pretty much just wanted a break.

On Monday, I met up with one of my brothers, who also happened to be starting a week-long vacation. He'd ridden down from Phoenix on his V-Strom 1000. He let me ride the big bike around a bit while he tried out my KLR 650. Fun stuff.

I've pulled out my fishing tackle in anticipation of a short trip up to the Valley for some urban lake bass fishing. It's good to have an alternate hobby because my singlespeed's suspension fork kinda' died at Sweetwater yesterday. If the fork ends up taking a long time to get repaired, I'll have to go back to riding rigid. Ugh! Either that, or I'll become a semi-reluctant roadie for a while. Of course, both mountain and road biking may get put on hold because the spring migration is underway, and there's always a chance to add a new species to the list of birds I've seen in my yard. Again, it's good to have alternate hobbies.

Spring has sprung

2009-03-22T11:55:00.000-07:00

I hadn't planned on riding today, as the local TV weatherpersons had been forecasting heavy winds (and an accompanying dust and pollen storm). Halfway through this morning's dog walk, I realized they were full of baloney (the broadcast meteorologists, not the dogs - I don't give lunchmeat to my dogs) and that it was going to be a nice day. I momentarily considered filling the bird feeders and planting myself in the yard with binoculars and then thought something a little less sloth was in order.

I threw the Chameleon into the truck and went over to Sweetwater. I parked in the new lot, which for better or worse (I think worse) was built on top of what little sidewinder habitat there was. On the plus side, it was also built on top of what had been the Tucson's second biggest pile of sidewall-slashing broken glass (Reddington Pass is far and away the largest). Veelz's rig was there, and soon enough, he popped through the gate on his newfangled carbon front-back-boing bike. He said he'd done some of the southern loops in the opposite direction from the way we've ridden them before. It sounded like a swell idea, so I did the same.

I've dialed back on the bicycle commuting but instead of biking more often for fun like I'd intended, I instead ramped back up on the weight lifting. And while weight lifting is by no means fun, it's damned fatiguing. Anyway, I was surprised to find that despite aching all over and having a lessened mileage base, I had pretty decent leg strength. I rode all over the various loops, going clockwise where I'd previously gone counter-clockwise, and ended up putting in a little over 13 miles by the time I left.

I see now that the breeze is picking up, so maybe we'll have a dusty day after all. The additions to my front-yard bird list will just have to wait for another day.

Two months in

2009-02-22T17:26:00.000-08:00

I lost ten pounds since my last post!

Unfortunately, it all happened during a single evening as I suffered through a bout of what I presume was a moderate case of food poisoning. Funny, I don't remember eating any peanuts. I think I'm still recovering, but I did get in a short mountain bike ride at the regional park this afternoon. Oh, and the poundage is more or less back already.

Latent stomach bug notwithstanding, this was a wonderful weekend. I ran some errands, lazed around a bit, walked the dogs a few times, spent a day birding in the yard, and of course, did the aforementioned trail ride. I have yet to fulfill my intense desire to go fishing but that really should wait until water temperatures come up a bit anyway - maybe this spring.

It looks like 2009 is shaping up to be a pretty good year, and I think BeanSS and I deserve one.

Vroom!

2009-02-08T15:53:00.000-08:00

As mentioned in a prior post or two, my motorcycle has been broken down for a while. I screwed up what should have been a straightforward repair back in mid-December and spent the next month-and-a-half fixing it in increments, fearful that I'd mess things up again. I finally closed the engine back up today, added the oil, and fired it up. Though just mentioning this could jinx everything, I think it's working fine and the cases might even be oil-tight.

Unfortunately, it's now leaking fuel from the petcock, a likely consequence of too much down time. It only leaks in the "on" position and not on the "off" or "reserve" settings, so I can probably wait a while before repairing it. I need this thing running so I can back off the bike commuting and maybe have enough strength left at the end of the week to go mountain biking with Veelz. Or not. I think I might just be momentarily tired of dealing with two-wheeled vehicles.

One fish, two fish, REDFISH, bluefish

2009-01-18T10:25:00.000-08:00

It's a brand new year and I've found myself with a new obsession about which to daydream - redfish. Yes, red drum (another name for them), black drum, spotted sea trout, white sea bass, weakfish, corbina, and so on. Just as the diurnal raptors are my favorite birds, the members of the family Sciaenidae (aka croakers or drum) are my favorite fish.

And it's more than being a zoology nerd - I'm also an angler. I've only ever caught a couple of white croaker, but I now want to get out and fish for red drum and/or spotted sea trout. For better or worse, this means a road trip to the Laguna Madre of south Texas - the closest place to wet a line for reds. I'd also need to hire a guide, so I'll need to wait for the piggy bank to get a bit more full.

If there's such a thing as a croaker fix and if I absolutely must get one, I suppose I could head over to SoCal and go after corbina in the surf. I haven't felt such a yen for fishing in a lot of years, and I'm looking forward to dusting off my tackle some time soon.

I'm also hoping to test myself in Flagstaff to see if I'm strong enough to ride a singlespeed on the sorts of trails that used to have me clicking down into my granny gear. I'd like to think I'm a stronger rider than I was in my 20s, or that I at least have a better attitude about riding through the pain of climbing.

But I can't get too far ahead of myself, as I still have plenty of things to wrap up here in Tucson. I have a huge backlog of projects to clear at work before I can contemplate anything more than an out-and-back day trip to a local water or a nearby trail. Also, my motorcycle is impossibly more broken than it was before, and I'd like to get it off the blocks sooner rather than later.

But before any of this can happen, I need to go out back and spend some time lifting weights. It's a fitness-type activity but of equal importance is its ability to help me work out my frustrations (see workload and broken motorcycle discussions, above). Expect another report once I've actually done something fun.

Mmm...beer, etc.

2008-12-24T16:19:00.000-08:00

I just got back from a nice few laps at the regional park. Singlespeed, natch. I figured I'd better make use of today's clear skies and relatively warm temps, as a pair of winter storms are going to hit over the next coupla' days. We, as Tucsonans, welcome the winters rains but I, as a cabin fever-prone individual, need my sunshine. It's a conundrum.

I finally popped the top on one of those pints of Dutch lager I've been threatening to drink for weeks. I think I deserve it, considering that the Doohickey replacement job on my KLR went pretty badly. I effed it up almost a week ago but writing about it still makes me angry (at myself). All I can say is that I hope, when I once again crack open the left side of the crankcase, I don't find a whole new meaning for the term "exploded view".

BeanSS spent a few days with family in Phoenix and came back loaded up with home baked goods - it doesn't get any better than that. And just so it's clear that there's equal consideration, I baked BeanSS a cake before she left. Never mind that her stuff was all from scratch and my stuff came from a box. After all, I needed all the time I could spare to bollocks up my motorcycle.

OK, pint number two is now in play and with it, another change of subject. Or maybe just a rehashing of the bicycling topic. Veelz dropped by the other day to collect me for a mountain bike ride at Sweetwater. I apparently left my legs at home (I felt strong but was totally averse to climbing), so we didn't even manage five miles. It's a good thing I'm not training for the 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo like he is.

Well, how about that? I do believe I have a nice little background-level buzz going. Coincident with my subtle yet enjoyable level of impairment is the arrival, in our house, of a nice holiday ham baked by my mother-in-law. Along with bicycling, birding, and a host of other hobbies, I have a strong interest in cured pork products.

And with that, I'm closing this post and heading for the kitchen.

A perfect storm

2008-12-13T17:50:00.000-08:00

I started the day with a nice, brisk dog walk, after which I decided to put in a long session behind the binoculars. The skies were clear and the wind was calm. I recorded the bluebird weather in my field notes, even writing that it could be a productive day for hawkwatching.

The first raptor sighting was of a red-tailed hawk, a distinctive and strikingly-marked individual that I don't recall seeing earlier this year - probably a wintering bird. Later, a frantically dispersing flock of rock pigeons gave away the presence of a cruising peregrine falcon. I've been seeing peregrines in my neighborhood fairly regularly for a week or two, but each new sighting is still a big thrill for me. Not five minutes later, a prairie falcon circled over the house, its dark axillars obvious in the bright sky. An American kestrel, another red-tail or two, and a hatch-year Cooper's hawk all made appearances just before midday.

By the time I saw a lone Harris's hawk flying in the distance, the vanguards of a winter storm had started to move across the Old Pueblo. The wind kicked up and the temperature dropped noticeably. I traded my shorts for jeans and threw on a fleece jacket. The wind grew stronger yet, eventually filling the skies with so much airborne dust that I abandoned my idea of taking an afternoon road bike ride. I birded a while longer, finally giving up when the visibility deteriorated to the point that seeing distant raptors became difficult.

I went inside and after horsing around on the web for a while, I decided to take Clayton and Dora for a second walk. I'm glad I did because on the way back, a Merlin flew over the little patch of desert we were hiking across and landed on a utility pole, a freshly caught passerine in its talons. I was without my binocs, but it looked to be a Taiga-race bird. I suspect it's the same individual I've seen, photographed, and blogged (here and here) during both of the past two winters.

One day, seven species of birds of prey, including all four North American falcons one could reasonably expect to see in Tucson - not too shabby. I have to say that despite everything that's been going on, this was an absolutely perfect day.

Finally

2008-12-11T16:42:00.000-08:00

I've finally managed to stagger into my winter vacation. This has been a long and rather difficult year and I'm hoping that BeanSS and I can recharge our batteries over the next few weeks. To that end, I threw down a quick couple of laps at Sweetwater this evening.

My father's memorial was held earlier this week, and it was nice. The solemnity of the Veterans' service was especially moving. The rare, simultaneous presence of all of my brothers and sisters seemed to make it as much a reunion as it was a goodbye. I picked up an urban fishing license so I can make good on my commitment to go fishing, a pastime to which my dad introduced me but for which I've found less and less time over the years. The license is only good until the end of the year but maybe I'll make a resolution about angling more next year.

I also have some wrenching to do on my motorcycle. Yeah, I was recently overtaken by events but back in mid-November, I finally found the used bike for which I'd been searching for six months. It's a 10-year old Kawasaki KLR650 - my very own low-buck, single-cylinder adventure bike. It runs pretty well and I've been riding it here and there, but it needs a little bit of work before I'm willing to ride it past the city limits sign. If you know this model, you'll understand when I say that it needs the Doohickey done. I also have to replace the shift-shaft and countershaft seals to stop the bike from marking its territory with little dime blots of engine oil. And here I thought that keeping up with bicycle maintenance was difficult.

The much-delayed arrival of the motorcycle allowed (or at times, required) me to keep commuting to work via bicycle. I ended up with a bit over 150 round trips for 2008 and also reached another milestone - my 10,000th mile of commuting since starting in earnest in January of 2000. I doubt I'll continue heaping on the miles now that I have a motorcycle, but I still hope to maintain a decent bicycle mileage base and be able to ride harder on weekends. We'll just have to see.

Farewell

2008-11-27T11:02:00.000-08:00

BeanSS and I moved to Tucson from Sacramento a little over 5 years ago. We'd been in Phoenix (and the Sonoran desert had been in us) for many years before the NorCal detour and so moving to the Old Pueblo was a homecoming of sorts.

As we began to move forward in life with new jobs, our first home, a second dog, and all of those grown-up things, another aspect of our lives was moving backwards. It began with my mother's death two weeks after we arrived in Arizona. Three years later, we lost our two beloved dogs within months of one another. There were other scares, tragedies, and losses that I won't describe because I don't own the grief they caused, but they took their toll as well. And then, last night, as the first winter storm of the season began to soak the desert in earnest, my dad slipped away in a hospital in Glendale.

I only learned of my father's passing this morning and it's still processing. Given his overall health, it wasn't entirely unexpected. Then again, he oftentimes seemed so bulletproof (he survived World War II, after all) that his living for another 10 years wouldn't have been a surprise either.

So far, I've experienced a strong desire to go wet a line somewhere - my dad taught me to fish as a kid and took me to so many great places. I still have all of his old tackle and even his boat. He was singlespeeding before singlespeeding was cool. My dad tried to be the chronicler of a family that had spread across the country. Well into his 60s, he could pin me at will in arm wrestling. He adored his six children and three granddaughters. He loved sharks.

BeanSS reminded me of when she first met my dad and he said in a rather loud voice "Hello, Connie!". My wife is not named Connie or Constance or anything even similar, nor is anyone else I've known for that matter. My dad used to surprise me with Orangeboom Lagers from time to time, so I plan on toasting him with a couple of those later on this evening.

If these good memories keep coming to the surface, then I know things will be OK.

Miscellany

2008-11-11T08:22:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting here at home today, well into the autumn/winter season where I am off probably more than I'm at work. The amount of vacation time I get is one of the major perquisites of my job. Perquisites - I like that word because at first glance, it appears I've botched the spelling of prerequisites. My job has those, too.

I was off work yesterday but dawdled around so much that I blew my chance at doing any sort of longer-duration bike ride. I had to pick up BeanSS at work just about at sunset, so I put the bike in the pickup, left early, and did fast laps on the fire roads at the Pima College west campus until it was time to head over to her office.

The Pima trails certainly do not constitute an epic no matter how many laps I do, but I enjoy the occasional ride there. It's also a bit of a sentimental place, as we used to walk Kona and Barnaby on those trails. We even did a family trail run together there once or twice, well into Kona's chemotherapy and before we learned that young Barnaby had hip dysplasia. There's one little connector trail where I always imagine our departed dogs running madly along next to me, off-leash, panting heavily, tongues hanging, Kona with the strange downward kink in her tail that she showed only when running, and Barns with his short, weirdly-proportioned legs galloping along. It's a happy memory.

But as so often happens, I've found my thoughts interrupted by the silence coming from the other room. Dora and Clayton spend much of the morning playing and so I'm accustomed to hearing playful growling, toenails skittering across tile, the bouncing sounds of tennis balls, etc. But when it gets quiet, it usually means they're working as a team to remove the stuffing from their dog beds.

Back now. The beds are intact, and the dogs have relocated to the area around my feet, so at least I can monitor their playtime. Damn, I am crazy about these two.

What is else? I need to lift weights today but I'd like to ride again, too. The latter will have to wait at least until the effects of this morning's coffee bender wear off, unless I want to stop at every third tree to caffeinate the desert soil. Also, after Sunday night's brief but torrential rains, a whole new crop of detached cholla joints and prickly pear pads were washed onto the trails. As such, I fully expect to have at least one flat tire on my mountain bike. If that's the case, I'll probably bag the bicycling entirely because I'm just not feeling a road ride.

Well, I'm glad that's over.

2008-11-06T19:51:00.000-08:00

I cannot find the words to convey the absolute elation I feel in regards to what happened in America on Tuesday night. I can, however, find a few words to accompany the weather this week: what the hell happened to autumn?

No sooner had I bitched about afternoon temperatures in the 90s than a cold front hit Tucson with a glancing blow, leaving me to deal with a 42° morning commute today. The cool air wasn't a problem, but the 50° shift between daytime highs and overnight lows means we went directly from late summer to early winter. This will last for a few months and then, if we're lucky, we might have a week or two of spring before the summer hits again.

At any rate, and no matter what the weather ends up being like, I'm looking forward to the coming weeks, months, and years because, to put it indelicately, the Dubya era was a totally fucked up mess if there ever was one.

Thanks, but I'll Pass.

2008-11-02T13:23:00.000-08:00

I'm still in test-ride mode, checking out the setup on my new sussy fork. While Sweetwater remains my favorite local ride, I wanted to navigate the sand, babyheads, rock outcrops, wash crossings, and generally gnarlier terrain at Starr Pass to verify the fork's resistance to bottoming out, packing up, and such. And even though dealing with spring rate, preload, and rebound damping are tasks I haven't needed to do for years, I seemed to have had them dialed in pretty closely before I even clipped in.

The ride itself was pretty enjoyable, though it definitely took me a while to get my head around the measurably more technical nature of Starr Pass relative to Sweetwater, not to mention the looser tracking of the Magura fork compared to the rigid Planet-X I used to rock. The part of the trail network I rode wasn't exactly an observed trials course, but it definitely didn't flow like Sweetwater either. In fact, I think I need to mix up my ride selection and introduce a bit more diversity of terrain so I can get back what little technical skill I used to have. It's unfortunate that State Land passes have recently been priced out of reach, because I wouldn't have minded going back to the 50-Year Trail or Fantasy Island from time to time. Oh well.

Anyway - back to today's Starr Pass ride. The valley north of Cat Mountain was filled with wrens of the cactus, rock, and canyon species. The song of the canyon wren is like music to my ears, but they weren't actually singing, just doing their little deep-knee bends and "bzeet" calls. I meant to check out my favorite local cristate saguaro cactus, but I was having too much fun swooping along and didn't want to get off and hike up the wash along which it grows. And it was a bit warm, considering it's now November.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by today's warmth because it got to 93° yesterday. Yes, you heard that right - ninety-three degrees Fahrenheit on November 1st. Enough with the blazing sun already! Of course, as a native-born Arizonan, I am not legally permitted to complain about the heat, but there's an exception for when it's still this warm this far into autumn. On the other hand, it's better than having my trails turn into mud bogs or get buried in snow or something.

That's all for now except to say please, please, please vote on Tuesday and make Barack Obama the 44th President of the United States. Heat I can tolerate; another four years of environmental degradation and abuse of science by a Republican administration I cannot.

Shock and awe

2008-10-26T18:36:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a short test ride to see how my singlespeed and the newly installed suspension fork were getting along. I've ridden rigid for 3 years and having 100mm of travel and a lockout were, in a word, fucking awesome. OK, so it was two words. I'm also pleased that I went 6.66 miles, one one-hundredth of the mileage of the beast. Photos will have to wait for another day.

Suspended animation

2008-10-23T17:36:00.000-07:00

My job has been unusually tolerable lately. I'm chalking it up to my focus on trying to do more fun stuff while I'm away from work so that the good mood follows me through the week. Or maybe it was the excitement associated with a coworker having had an Xtracycle FreeRadical installed on her bike. For a left-wing, pro-bike, childfree, committed commuter-type like myself, a new longbike is like baby news, only without the poopie. Nevertheless, thank Jah it's almost Friday.

In other veloconsumerist happenings, my suspension fork arrived last weekend. The heavier spring necessitated by my weight got here a few days later. I'm still waiting for some preload spacers to show up and then all I have to do is find a few free hours during which to bolt everything up. I'm looking forward to getting a little boing on the front of my singlespeed because I'm still suffering some shoulder/arm/hand pain from my last trail ride. Either that, or I injured myself when I fell off the high horse on which rigid singlespeed riders tend to sit.

I also picked up some new new seals for the old Z2 Bomber on my wife's beloved VooDoo Nzumbi. She didn't put all that many miles on it before one of the seals blew, but admittedly, the fork was a bike swap special. Who knows if the seals and wipers were as new as the seller said they were? Actually, I'm pretty pleased that I can still find replacement parts for a 10-year old fork. This might be a shop job because I don't want to bugger up the seals' seats trying to pry the old ones out or wreck the Enduro Seals trying to cram them in. We'll also get a fork oil change out of it.

If I don't get all of this in time, it'll be another weekend of road bike riding. That sure isn't the worst thing either of us could be doing on a fine autumn day.

Bike on.

Tired

2008-10-17T19:55:00.000-07:00

Here's yet more feedback from the perfect ride I took last Monday.

I just spent a contemplative evening dealing with the flat tires I found after I'd returned. And by contemplative, I mean that I was again contemplating just how it is that cholla thorns keep managing to defeat my tire liners. I can understand that some come in from the side, where the tubes are unprotected, but others have gone straight through the plastic strip.

Veelz told me shops love selling Mr. Tuffys to customers- who knows, maybe they have a substantial markup? The kicker is the misplaced sense of immunity to flats - the customers will inevitably keep coming back for patch kits, thorn-resistant tubes, Slime treatments, Spin Skins, etc., all in a fruitless quest to thwart punctures. What a scam.

I may end up having to use the nuclear option and try out No Tubes or some homemade counterpart, though I can buy a lot of patches and glue for what one Stan's kit costs. Also, there's no ghetto tubeless system that would have healed and sealed the sidewall slash demonstrated so ably by my Sith Lord friend, below.

I found this ruinous little cut while searching my tire's casings for errant thorns. From the looks of it, it probably came from one of the millions of shards of broken glass that litter the trailhead area. I was already feeling lucky to have ridden out before dark without having to deal with two punctures but now I'm wondering just how it was that my tube didn't bulge out of the sidewall and fail catastrophically. Maybe I was surfing a wave of good Karma for having picked up a discarded scrap of a gel packet I found on the trail though admittedly, I rode by it once without picking it up because it wasn't my mess. I thought better on the next lap and pocketed it.

The cut tire was past its prime anyway, having already been run for several hundred miles as a front tire before being swapped, dirtbag style, with an even more ground down rear tire. Anyway, I dipped into my bench stock and I now have two crisp new knobbies mounted up, ready for the next ride unless - and I may be jinxing things by even mentioning it - either or both of my freshly patched tubes fail. They won't - I've been just that lucky lately.

I've been listening to a couple of Material Issue CDs this evening. The band remains the very definition of a power pop trio despite the tragic fact that lead singer Jim Ellison's voice is now coming from beyond the grave.

I saw Material Issue in concert at an Edge Fest or KUKQ Birthday Bash or something similar in Phoenix back in the '90s. Big Country was also on the ticket and, in a sad coincidence, that band's lead singer, Stuart Adamson, also committed suicide. Years later, I watched Bradley Nowell, drunk, stoned, or worse, stagger through a Sublime show at the Nile Theater in Mesa. The music of my youth is littered with similar tragedies - Ian Curtis, Kurt Cobain - and yet it remains the soundtrack my rides.

How to avoid the bummer ride

2008-10-16T19:54:00.000-07:00

Monday last, Columbus Day, I got up from a catnap on the couch and with very little forethought, drove over to Sweetwater for a late-day ride. I parked my truck in the empty lot at the trailhead and geared up in the brisk air. Gale force winds had prefaced the arrival of a cold front during the weekend but this day it was calm. A greater roadrunner was hunting just past the fence, reducing my chances of encountering another sidewinder. It all felt very promising.

I cranked up the main trail, expecting to ride one lap on each of the mellow loops in the northwestern reaches of the preserve and then head back home for dinner. I was also planning to go as hard as I could through the loops’ few rocky sections to determine if having ordered a suspension fork that morning was a good idea.

I started on the shorter of the two loops and immediately noticed that I felt really on. My legs seemed unusually strong, and I was snaking over, between, and around the rocks and shelves with little effort. Of course, riding solo, it’s hard to tell just how fast and flowy you really are, but I was enjoying myself too much to care. I took the junction to the longer loop and banged out a fast circuit there. I stopped in the middle of the figure-8 and looked west to determine just how much daylight was left. I decided to keep going and ended up riding each of the loops two more times before the failing light and rapidly cooling air ended things. I was also getting concerned that if I flatted or had a mechanical, I’d end up limping out in the dark.

I rode back to the trailhead with the sun setting at my back and a blindingly full moon filling my view ahead, thinking that if I’d brought a light, a wind shell and some clear lenses, I might have stayed out all night. Before I even called BeanSS to tell her I was on my way home, I had decided that the ride I’d just finished was one of the best ones I’d taken in 20 years of mountain biking.

At a bit over 10 miles, it was by no means an epic. I didn’t conquer any high-altitude climbs or clean any overly technical sections. It wasn’t a destination ride, the long-anticipated culmination of a week-long road trip. In fact, the trail is less than 5 crow miles from the house. No, all that actually happened was that an unplanned, close-to-home mountain bike ride unfolded absolutely perfectly.

The stoke from the ride kept me up too late but the next day, despite being short of sleep and having dealt with a 42-degree morning bike commute, I found myself still smiling. Even now, still sore from Monday’s ride and the long dog walk and poor-form weight lifting I did beforehand, I’m still feeling pretty damned good. Oh, and related to the pain I’m in, I think that suspension fork will be a useful upgrade.

I checked my singlespeed this evening and found not one, but two flat tires awaiting my attention. Murphy’s Law dictates that the bigger pain in the ass wheel to remove and replace is the one that will get punctured - I have horizontal fork ends aft so there’s the whole axle bolts, wheel and brake rotor alignment, and chain tension thing to deal with. But here, we have flats front and back and, despite wondering just what Mr. Tuffy tire liners and the True Goo I used in the past really accomplish, I’m not even remotely bummed out. Or at least I’m nowhere near as bummed as I might have been if I’d had to deal with them on the trail and hike out by moonlight on Monday.

But good vibrations aside, I'd better get to patching those tubes because I’m going to want to get out and have another good ride soon. Veelz, are you listening?

Rattled

2008-10-05T12:06:00.000-07:00

I took an unplanned ride this morning. I say unplanned because I just wasn't feeling it when I got back from the morning dog walk, and I wasn't sure I was going to ride at all. The weather was so idyllic, though, that I knew I'd regret it if I didn't go somewhere, anywhere.

I weighed going over to Starr Pass to punish myself on the babyheads or over to the Pima College/Greasewood Park fire roads, which is where I go when I'm either short on time or out of ideas, but I ended up falling back on what has become my favorite place to roll - the Sweetwater Trails. I probably should have called Veelz, for whom bicycling is now training, but again, I wasn't sure I was going until I loaded the bike into the truck.

Anyway, I arrived at the trailhead, geared up, and rode through the gate. I leaned my bike up against the fence and hiked over to a couple of well-vegetated piles of mining spoil to lighten the liquid load. I did my business and as I turned to head back to my bike, I got buzzed by a rattlesnake. The sound came from uncomfortably close to my feet, so I did an impromptu little jig and moved aside. Once I ensured that nobody had seen my ridiculous little dance move, I checked out the now-coiled snake. I do believe it was a sidewinder, the hornlike supraoculars having been very distinctive.

My first thought was that it was a good thing I'd already taken a leak, because I'd have wet my pants otherwise. But no, I didn't even really get a good adrenaline burst out of it. Perhaps my zoological curiosity had overridden my flight instinct, or maybe I don't have the proper amount of respect for our pit viper friends. Regardless, I'm going to need to be a lot more careful when relieving myself while afield which, as BeanSS and Veelz can confirm, is an all-too-frequent event. Or I could just hold it (the urge, not the rattler). For what it's worth, I made three additional pit stops during my 8-mile ride, and didn't see any other venomous reptiles.

More or less a bicyclist

2008-10-03T07:49:00.001-07:00

My ongoing plan to minimize bike commuting in order to free up a little energy with which to ride for fun was fairly successful last month. I rode my mountain and road bikes more in September than I had in the previous five months, and I parked the commuter for almost an entire work week. Now, here I am three days (and two commutes) into October, and my quads are still aching. What that tells me is that it was about time I did something a bit more arduous that rolling back and forth to work. It feels good to be a bicyclist again.

Better living through chemistry

2008-09-21T09:55:00.000-07:00

I said yesterday that the hilly morning road ride would either warm me up for today's trail ride or leave me too tired to face it. And that was before I did an evening session with the weights.

I woke up early this morning and walked the dogs around the block a couple of times. I then threw the bike in the back of the truck, drove over to the G5 parking lot, and hit the trails in the southwest corner of Tucson Mountain Park. I rode strongly. Skillfully. With energy left over. It was totally worth shaving my legs for.

Maybe I have greater fitness and deeper reserves than I thought. Either that, or the dose of naproxen sodium I took before leaving removed my ability to feel pain and later on, when it wears off, I'll feel the cumulative effects of my sore muscles, stiff joints, and every single puncture and scratch I received as I navigated the overgrown trail. Regardless, Advil is out, Aleve is in.

The potential OTC NSAID-induced pain immunity notwithstanding, it was a wonderful, ride. The first couple miles of trail were shaded by a butte to the east, and the air was fragrant with a Monsoon season's worth of plant growth. I was reminded that the three-quarter mile segment of twisty singletrack just south of Kinney and west of the Ironwood Picnic Area is one of my all-time favorite trails, despite its unfortunate brevity. Rufous-winged sparrows called from the brush and a greater roadrunner dropped me like I was standing still. I blew by a key junction and ended up riding further southwest than I'd intended. Just as I entered what I call the "No Fires" wash, so named for the admonition on a trailside sign, I noticed several of the larger trees in the xeroriparian area were loaded up with roosted turkey vultures. A few flushed, but I counted at least eleven of them, warming themselves in the morning light. It was a perfect way to end the summer, and I'm definitely looking forward to more rides like it this fall.

Equinox run up: addendum

2008-09-20T09:49:00.000-07:00

As discussed yesterday, the critical path for this morning's mountain bike ride was getting a good night's sleep. I did indeed get the requisite amount of sleep, but I didn't anticipate that doing so would take so damned long. By the time Clayton and Dora stomped me awake for their morning walk, the sun was already above the horizon and starting to heat things up.

The dogs' breakfast, their walk, my breakfast, bike prep, loading the pickup, etc. were going to be too time consuming, resulting in me being on the trail as the temperature moved out of my admittedly narrow comfort zone. I thus decided during the walk that I'd take the road bike out instead. I ended up banging out a nice, somewhat climby loop. I was happy to have never clicked down to the inner ring on my triple, but I sure didn't feel very strong. The ride will either serve as a nice warm up for a mountain ride tomorrow or I'll wake up too cashed in to face the trails.

Here's something curious. My right lower eyelid is intermittently twitching. It's happened many times before, but only when the stress at work has climbed into the red. As on any weekend, my job couldn't be further from my mind. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I've downed nearly an entire pot of coffee. Whatever the cause, I best get on with my day.

Equinox run up

2008-09-19T20:42:00.000-07:00

I'm under spouse's orders to not just sit around the house on this, the last weekend of summer.

The air temperature tomorrow morning will be in the high 60s. My mountain bike's tires are free of punctures and need only to be inflated a few psi. It therefore appears that all that stands between me and a trail ride is a good night's sleep and, to ensure that I get it, I'm signing off.

That's more like it

2008-09-14T18:39:00.000-07:00

It's Sunday evening, and I'm thinking this was yet another good weekend. Bean27 (aka BeanSS) and I rode Sweetwater in the cool air with Veelz this morning, reprising part of the ride that he and I did there last weekend. There were no desert tortoise sightings this time, though we did see a red-tailed hawk on the drive there and a prairie falcon on the way back home.

It was one more ride with no other purpose than to just pedal along; not a milk run, not a trip to the office. I'm hoping that my reshuffling of priorities makes these weekend rides more frequent and thus, less novel, ultimately freeing me from wanting to describe each and every one of them in this blog.

To help remind myself that it is still the weekend and that I don't need to be at work for another 10 hours, I've got the Meat Beat Manifesto Psyche-Out and Now EPs - complete with their signature SONAR pings and scratchy old record noises - spinning in another window. I'd like to talk about how smoothly a well-deserved beer or two are going down but alas, it is unwise to imbibe when one is loaded up with Ibuprofen. I said the weekend was fun. I did not say it was painless.

Despite the aches and pains, I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself for having fixed one of the messed-up struts that hold our camper shell's gate up. It came loose late last week and, in what was a veritable whirlwind of activity considering my general lack of handyman skills and all-around level of sloth, I fixed it this afternoon. My sub-month response time was fueled by an amazing confluence of events. Not only did I know what needed to be done to fix the window, the necessary cordless drill and rivet gun were right where I remember them being. On top of that, the repair worked on the first try. I even repaired the other strut in advance after noticing that it was about to fail, too. I suppose I was also motivated in no small part by the fact that the single operative strut could, and did, drop the window on an unsuspecting cranium belonging to my wife. High on my general sense of accomplishment, I went on to fix the plastic retention dealie on the back of BeanSS' bike helmet. I just hope the custom, zip tie-based kludge holds the brain bucket together as well as the rivets did on the camper.

Despite the myriad other things that need fixing, I'll have to get back to work, and to bike commuting, tomorrow. And despite my constant bitching on the subject, the biking is getting steadily more enjoyable as things cool down. I'm not saying I wouldn't park the commutant immediately if I found a motorcycle, but riding to work day after day is definitely more tolerable when heat stroke is off the table.

Weekend, not weakened

2008-09-12T20:21:00.000-07:00

Thank Jah it's Friday. Work was a whirlwind this week. I had my usual array of things to do but I was also given an entirely unexpected opportunity to go work on a project in Sacramento. It would have been for a week or two this month and perhaps a couple more in October. I'd have flown out at my employer's expense, been put up in a hotel for the duration, and have had my meals reimbursed. In exchange, I'd have put in long hours and helped my old friends get shit done. I gave it some pretty serious consideration but ultimately declined the offer.

It was a major coincidence. Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the trails I rode when I lived there, and wondering if or when I'd get to ride them again. BeanSS and I had a pretty crappy lifestyle in Sacto, but the rides were always sweet. The bad memories have pretty much fallen away, and I'm left with the warm, fuzzy feeling of threading Sierra Foothill singletrack through the oak woodlands and riding the river route next to Chinook salmon spawning on their redds. I've been riding in Tucson for so many years now that it's hard to imagine how buffed some of those trails were. There were no cactus thorns to puncture my tires, my falls were cushioned by accumulated leaves, and what few rocks were present were well-weathered and not at all jagged. In fact, writing about it here further reinforces my desire to get back there and bike down.

And that gets right to the heart of it.

The reason I turned down the temporary job was because all I'd have wanted to do once I touched down in the Big Tomato was ride, and I'd likely have had precious little time outside of work for that. Having flown, I wouldn't have been able to have my own car on hand. I'd therefore have had to choose in advance whether I wanted to ride road or mountain, and then I would have needed to ship the appropriate bike out (likely at considerable expense). I'd probably have gone with my mountain bike, but not wanting to make a mess of a rental car, I'd have been limited to trails to which I could ride from town.

I feel bad for my old friends there, because they're shorthanded and the project for which they need help is as fugly as they get. Still, I'd rather they find someone who is less likely to spend hours looking longingly out the windows that face the Sierra Nevada, an employee who won't try and play hookie every afternoon. It also just so happens that the project I'd have worked on very much resembles the one that, 5 years ago, contributed appreciably to my all-consuming desire get home to Arizona.

Meanwhile, back in the here and now in the Old Pueblo, I'm readying myself for my weekend activities. The dogs will get a walk or two, and I'll probably spend a little time scanning the skies for birds. I rode to work in 65-degree air this morning. I'm hoping for more of the same because BeanSS and I are on tap for a sunrise ride with Veelz the day after tomorrow. The scab from the runner's nipple I received during last Sunday's ride has finally fallen off, so despite having been provided too much information, you at least know I'm ready.

Upon further consideration...

2008-09-07T12:17:00.000-07:00

I had a post up here for a day, maybe two. It went into my bike commuting stats and how, despite the personal accomplishment they represent for me, they might be negatively affecting my ability and desire to ride on weekends. I also hypothesized that my feelings about my job may be part of the problem, too. The post was fairly negative and I ultimately deleted it. The take home message, however, was that I need to ride more often for the fun of it, even if that means I lose my status as the office's most-militant bike commuter (I work with a bunch of other tree-hugging dirt-worshipers, so the loss of cred could be considerable).

To that end, I met Veelz at Sweetwater this morning. We went around several of the loops. I rode better than I thought I would have considering how infrequently I've been mountain biking this year. We ran into a coworker of mine and also saw a desert tortoise. I flatted by stupidly backing into a barrel cactus, but the weather was nice, the desert was alive, and I had a pretty damned good time. I came home, cleaned up, threw in load of laundry, and, despite chugging the coffee I'd foregone prior to the ride, promptly fell asleep on the couch, Dagwood Bumstead style.

I woke up with a slight, all-over ache; the satisfying, low-level soreness that comes from having had too much fun on a bike. It was then that I realized something else, too. Between the morning at Sweetwater and yesterday's road ride, I'd reached the point where I would probably be too tired to ride my bike to work tomorrow. And that is the revelation I needed to have. I should be too tired from the weekend to commute, not too tired from commuting to ride on the weekend.

It seems like such a simple thing, but I've pedaled to and from the office so many hundreds of times - riding like a zombie and focused only on bettering my bike vs. car statistics - that I forgot I used to actually enjoy riding a bicycle.

I won't give up on the bike commuting entirely, as BeanSS and I still have to share one car. Also, the rides back and forth from home will get steadily more tolerable as autumn arrives. Lastly, I have my base to consider - no miles are bad miles, right? Nevertheless, I'm just going to have to back off on my dedication to the One less car ethos, replacing it with the another sticker-based piece of wisdom: Work sucks, I'm going mountain biking.

Hello nasty

2008-09-02T16:58:00.000-07:00

I said I wouldn't post again until I'd done something. Well, what I did was watch birds for about 12 hours over two successive days. Sunday was the last day to see species I could add to my August at-home list and Monday was the first day I could see birds that would count towards September's tally. It was a productive couple of "big sits" in terms of birds of prey, with three Harris's hawks, two red-tailed hawks, two zone-tailed hawks, two American kestrels, and one peregrine falcon passing by at one time or another. And note that these are sightings of different individuals, not repeated observations of the same birds. Not too shabby for a suburban hawk watch.

I also saw this bird of (dead) prey perched uncharacteristically on the utility pole behind my house. Perhaps it was taking a break from a long morning spent in the performance of ecosystem services, by which I mean a long morning of eating carrion. And for that, this turkey vulture is supremely adapted.

Going into Labor

2008-08-31T10:07:00.000-07:00

I'm two-thirds of the way through the Labor Day weekend and walking the dogs a couple of times has been the most exercise I've had so far. BeanSS and I were all set to ride our road bikes this morning, but we were overtaken by events. And by events, I mean that we stayed up too late and when we did finally wake up, we decided we didn't want to brave the oppressive humidity outside (it had rained for hours last night). Maybe tomorrow.

Ultimately, missing out on a road bike ride is no big loss for me, as commuting to work by bike gives me all the asphalt exposure I need. I've been unable to find a used motorcycle I can afford and so, I went ahead and bicycled right through the summer, getting to 100 rides earlier this month. By early September, I'll probably reach 1,000 miles' worth of commuting. June's nearly unbearable heat and July and August's stifling humidity have left me spent, and I'm looking forward to the break that the upcoming cooler weather will provide.

So, now that I've managed to seamlessly incorporate both my frustration with the fruitless search for a motorcycle and the inversely related bike commuting statistics into a post, what else is there to say? Not a whole lot, really. I did see a few pretty good birds from the front yard this month. The two best ones were the stunning male rufous hummingbird that buzzed through on his way south and the zone-tailed hawk that made appearances on successive days last weekend. Fall will see the passage of additional raptors. Many will simply migrate through while others will winter right here in Tucson. I'll have to keep my binoculars and spotting scope handy.

OK, no more posts until I've actually done something.

A large, wooden horse? Yes, bring it in!

2008-08-29T14:44:00.000-07:00

I am at long last back on-line. I stupidly let a Trojan virus into my machine and was out of action for three weeks; one trying to fix it myself and another two waiting to get it back from the shop.

What's more frustrating is that after having been away from this blog for over a month, and being so excited to log in for this post, I find that I have nothing substantive to say. Perhaps as autumn moves nearer, when being outside doesn't risk a heat stroke and/or being carried away by mosquitoes, I'll have something more interesting about which to write.

Taking license

2008-07-18T16:30:00.000-07:00

It is done. The State of Arizona - having duly recognized my successful completion of the Motorcycle Safety Foundation's Basic Rider Course at Pima Community College - has seen fit to add a motorcycle operator's endorsement to my driver's license. The course went well, and it turned out that I really did need to be taught how to ride. The thousands of miles I've ridden on bicycles in the 15 to 20 years since I'd last ridden a motorcycle weren't as much help as I thought they'd be.

The search is now underway for a used motorcycle; nothing fancy, but not a complete P.O.S. either. I'm leaning towards a U.J.M., if that means anything to you. Of course, the very first Craigslist motorcycle ad to which I responded turned out to be a scam. The e-mailed reply involved Borat-like grammar, an eBay loan, shipping from afar, and satisfaction guaranteed or my money back (shyeah right!). The original ad had been flagged and purged by the time I'd added the seller to my spam list.

Until I get a scoot, the bicycle commuting will continue. June was an absolute inferno and July has exhibited its usual sauna-like conditions, but I'm still piling up the mileage. I think I'm feeling a bit of preemptive guilt over the eventual ramping down of my bicycling to and from work.

What I'm hoping is that the occasional motorized kind of riding to work will allow me to finish each week with my legs intact so that I will actually feel like bicycling for fun on the weekends, rather than sitting around the house resting up for the next week of commuting. On the other hand, there's the risk that I'll put bicycling completely on the back burner and end up making motorcycling more of a lifestyle sort of thing. BeanSS wants to take the Basic Rider Course for herself this fall, so I'd have an immediate riding partner with whom to explore the backroads.

It's worth noting that I bought my first decent bicycle - a mountain bike - as a useful consolation after determining that the used Honda CB900 Custom I intended to buy wouldn't really be too practical in the snow and ice I was about to encounter in my freshman year at N.A.U. As an ironic side note, I bought that bicycle from a motorcycle dealer. I have no regrets over having chosen bicycling over motorcycling, but it might be good to get back into a different sort of two-wheeled pastime, one I remember enjoying quite a bit.

Night time is the right time

2008-06-07T22:01:00.000-07:00

I just returned from riding a few loops around Greasewood Park, my first mountain bike night ride in a couple of years. The high point was seeing a gray fox run across the trail in front of me. I also flushed a common poorwill from the trail, and I watched a trio of lesser nighthawks foraging under a streetlight on the ride back home. The wildlife sightings more than made up for my dead legs, the likely result of an uninterrupted work week of bike commuting in the heat and wind.

Meanwhile, somewhere downtown, the Tucson Naked Bike Ride was going on. And when I say naked bike, I don't mean a sport-oriented motorcycle without a fairing - I mean it's a Critical Ass ride. Authorities had warned would-be participants...class six felony...think of the children...or so the newspapers reported. We'll find out tomorrow how many smelly hippies, wimpsters, fixsters, BICAS hangers-on, and other assorted scene-making downtown denizens The Man took down in lieu of working to prevent actual crimes.

As an aside, you may have noticed, though not cared, that I'm no longer plugging in scientific names when I mention a plant or animal (or bacterium or sponge, for that matter). Some binomials I know, but most I don't, making it a good exercise to look them up. The name of the author who'd first named the species is less widely published. Finding it takes a bit more effort, and I often end up with a few other tabs open in Firefox and/or a small pile of scientific books next to my monitor. It's too much like work.

That's it for now - it's past my bedtime.

Somebody's got a case of the Mondays

2008-05-26T09:25:00.000-07:00

Just got back from riding Sweetwater with Bean27. That's BeanSS' alternate screen name for those occasions when she choses her full-suspension Rocky Mountain over her singlespeed VooDoo which, lamentably, still sits idle with a dead fork. It was a nice ride and there was even some cool air left over from last week's aberrant winter storm.

Anyway, it's time to close out this post so I can get back to fruitlessly scanning Craigslist for a used motorcycle that I lack the funds to purchase and the license to operate.

Well, shit.

2008-05-17T07:18:00.000-07:00

BeanSS and I triangulated with Veelz via telephone last night to meet him and a small group out at the Sweetwater Trail this morning. We made these plans despite knowing our shit wasn't exactly together. We thus needed to spend much of the evening prepping our rides and assembling our kit. We got BeanSS's bike's tires aired up, the suspension dialed in, and its chain lubed. I'd had a couple of near-wreck experiences last weekend wherein I couldn't get clipped out quickly enough. When I inspected my pedals last night, I saw one's retention mechanism was broken. A last-minute pedal swap with another bike solved the problem. We loaded both bikes into the truck and threw our gear duffels in after them. Camelbaks were filled, energy drinks were mixed and staged in the refrigerator, riding clothes were laid out, and cycling socks displaying suitably ironic social statements were selected.

Then the shit happened.

Our boy Clayton has been having a bit of gastrointestinal difficulties lately. After letting him out for his second or third late night bathroom break, we officially called off our participation in the ride so as to be able to keep an eye on him today (and to serve him chicken and rice - he'll eat better than we will for a time).

And so this morning, I got up, put on street clothes rather than the assembled cycling ensemble, and set the ironic socks aside. I took the bikes out of the truck and wheeled them - with their fully-aired tires, perfectly dialed-in shocks, freshly-lubed chains, and replacement pedals - back into the workshop. I then made a fresh pot of coffee, which would have been a big no-no if we were riding. Caffeine, you see, is the king of all diuretics, capable of interrupting rides with pee breaks every quarter mile. Of course, my baseline pee break schedule is every mile or so to begin with. But I digress, and besides, I think we've all heard enough about how bodily functions affect my bicycling.

With the trail ride off the agenda, I think I'll set up to do some birding in the front yard. The air should soon warm to the point where thermals and updrafts get going, thus causing a raptor liftoff. The northward movement of passerines seems to be a bit late this year - my April at-home bird last was almost devoid of warblers - so I'm hoping to see a neotropical migrant or two.

Moreover, tomorrow is another day and - I'm going against my better judgment by saying this - another opportunity to hit the trail.

Oops, I rode it again

2008-05-13T11:03:00.000-07:00

The dogs woke me up again first thing this morning, allowing a reasonably early start on another ride out at Sweetwater. Being as it is a weekday, I had the trail all to myself. I explored several new loops, or at least they were new to me. There's a bit of potentially wet weather coming in, so the west winds were just the slightest bit brisk, and it felt like they were carrying a bit of humidity, too. It was a nice break from the steady onslaught of increasingly summer-like temperatures that I've been experiencing for the past few weeks. At one point, I returned to the car and removed my helmet and gloves, ready to call it a day. The breeze was so cool and invigorating that I put my gear back on and went out for some more mileage.

My belated and abbreviated spring break ends tomorrow, and it'll be back to bicycling to and from work instead of riding for the pure fun of it. I'll just keep telling myself it's all mileage base maintenance. My commuter had a puncture last week, so I suppose I ought to get to patching it.

Bike down and bird hard everyone.

Lost and found

2008-05-11T09:49:00.000-07:00

I've once again lost track of a whole bunch of time. Spring sprung since my last post, and I once again failed to capitalize on the postcard weather we had through most of March and April. It's now the time of year that requires early starts and, after being rudely yanked from my slumber by my alarm clock every morning during the work week, I often can't motivate myself to get going early on weekends.

I decided last night that I was going to take the singlespeed mountain bike out today, but I kept it a secret. In the interest of reserving the right to sleep in and slack off in the morning, or to walk the dogs instead, I didn't tell BeanSS and I didn't call Veelz. I instead went to bed silently going over my mental checklist of where all my gear might be and hoping I wouldn't find the bike with a flat tire in the morning.

I woke up suitably early, the shrill klaxon of my alarm clock being replaced by my dogs Clayton and Dora randomly flipping and stomping around on the bed. I started getting ready, though I found myself uninterested in riding over to the Pima College and Greasewood Park trails as I'd planned the night before. I ended up shoving the bike into the back of the pickup truck and taking it over to the Sweetwater Trails. Excellent choice.

The trail had to have had a lot more use since I rode it last, but still possessed the flow that makes it imminently singlespeedable. The beautiful wildflowers so evident back in mid-March were long gone, brown and cured, but the foothill paloverde trees were heavily in bloom. I didn't see any mule deer or desert tortoises this time, but there were birds, lizards, and small mammals all over the place.

As I cranked up and down the foothills and bajadas of the Tucson Mountains, I decided that I'd finally found my Arizona substitute for the Granite Bay trail system at Folsom Lake State Park up in northern California. Granite Bay was my and BeanSS' home trail when we lived in Sacramento, and I've been looking for a similarly fun and accessible ride ever since we moved to Tucson.

Where Granite Bay twisted through oak woodlands interspersed with gray pines, Sweetwater's overstory is dominated by foothill paloverde and saguaros. At Granite Bay, rounding a tight bend occasionally sent wild turkeys running frantically down the trail, their feet audibly slapping on the hardpack. At Sweetwater, it's startled Gambel's quail that flee on foot, foregoing their ability to fly. The northern California trail wound past lichen-covered granite boulders bigger than cars, its southern Arizona counterpart runs past lichen-covered basalt outcrops (Veelz, please correct me if my geology is wrong).

These differences have proven to be only superficial, because when I'm in the saddle at Sweetwater, navigating the turns, transitioning between gradients, and bumping my rigid fork over rocks embedded in the track, I feel just the same as I did up in the 916. The trail layout at Granite Bay was skinny, twisty, and made creative use of topography and vegetation to cram in a lot smiles per mile. These traits were the result of the influence of FATRAC, a local trail advocacy group occupying much the same niche as SDMB out here. Also, whereas my riding here is done against a political backdrop of southern Arizona separatism, which seeks to Free Baja Arizona from the wretched excesses of the Phoenix area, Folsom Lake is squarely in the realm of what would be called Superior California, should the north state ever succeed in shedding it's culturally inferior, perpetually-imploding southern half.

Of course, there are some similarities between the trails I'd rather not see, such as intense summer heat, ozone pollution, and horse shit, but those are the inevitable costs of having a low-elevation trail situated immediately adjacent to an urban area. Moreover, neither Granite Bay nor Sweetwater exhibit these adverse traits to the extent of my pre-Sacramento home trail, Phoenix Mountain Preserve's Trail 100. Regardless, I feel pretty lucky to have spent my entire cycling life living within just a few miles of such enjoyable riding. Just don't get me started on the fact that I no longer live in Flagstaff, as I did in college. Now those are some sweet home trails.

Milk run

2008-03-13T15:16:00.000-07:00

I'm currently in the midst of an experiment in car-free living. Well, not entirely car-free, because I still drive my employer's rigs around for work, but you get the picture. I've been commuting by bike all week, which isn't unusual, but this afternoon, it was time to mail off some bills and hit the grocery store.

I almost never bike to shop because I drink milk. Lots of milk. Two gallons at a time milk. And this is to say nothing of the half-gallons of half-and-half I buy to accompany my coffee habit. At any rate, having to lug 15 to 20 pounds of dairy fluids and whatever else I buy back up the hill in my messenger bag is just too much like work. Today, it would have to be just the necessities, and by necessities, I mean a half-gallon of skim milk, a bunch of green onions, and a two-pound block of Colby cheese (again with the dairy products).

My employer provides an indoor bicycle storage area, so I never have to leave my wheels locked up outside. The post office stop was straightforward enough but the grocery store would necessitate leaving the bike unattended for more than 15 seconds. The bench next to the bike rack was occupied by two shifty-looking, meth-addicted transients arguing loudly with one another, presumably over who had the most teeth left. Since I treasure even my beater bike, with its gift-from-Veelz frame, I ended up locking my ride to a cart corral, well away from Jimmy the Finn and his lady friend, and within sight of the inevitable in-store Starbucks barristas. I went in, scurried around, grabbed my stuff, and found myself in the express line behind another cyclist, standing aside his bicycle. I'm sure bikes aren't allowed in the store - liability issues, customer safety, newly-waxed floors, blah, blah, blah - but since forgiveness is easier to get than permission, I think that's what I'll do next time.

I learned a couple more things on the way up the hill afterwards. First of all, I realized that I'm pretty fucking worn out. Last Sunday's trail ride, also partly a gift from Veelz, was fun but it took a lot out of me. Yeah, I kept up with my gearie-riding buddy, but at great cost to my quads. I then started right in the next day with the bike commuting, just in time to experience springtime's aggravating afternoon headwinds. Today, I'd barely rested an hour after my afternoon ride home before I went back out for the milk run. All I can say is that once this car-free thing is over and I get a chance to recover, I had better have a stronger base.

The second thing I learned was that, while wearing a black bike jersey is a bad idea from a visibility standpoint, and an even worse idea when it's warm outside, the latter issue can be dealt with quite nicely by carrying an ice-cold, half-gallon of skim milk and a two-pound block of cheese in a messenger bag situated right over my kidneys. I may start to carry cheese around in my Camelbak while doing trail rides.

Lastly, I learned that living car-free isn't the easiest thing, even just for a brief stint. Plenty of people do it, and I admire those who use their bikes not just for fitness or fun, but for work, utility, and everything else that can be accomplished with pedal power. I'm sure I won't ever even come close to giving up the car completely, but I really should use my bike for more things.

Here's to hoping my legs don't fall off before I get to post again.

Sweet, sweet water

2008-03-11T19:25:00.000-07:00

I was sitting around my house, recently rechristened Boredom Kingdom, this past Sunday trying to figure out if, when, and where I was going to go on my bike when out of the blue, I get a call from Veelz.

"We're going riding." he says. He pointed out later that he'd purposely not phrased it as a question.

So, would it be the new 36th Street trailhead, which leads to the same old Starr (Scar) Pass area, or the entirely new Sweetwater Trail system? I opted for the latter and within an hour, we were carving along one of the nicest, best-flowing trails in the Tucson area. The ride was easily 98% singletrack, the wildflowers were in full bloom, wildlife was abundant, and it was rigid singlespeedable at that. Too perfect. Cheers to everyone who made it happen.

More importantly, and without getting into the specifics, the ride was just what my soul needed - a ray of light in the otherwise dark times I've been working through lately. I have to genuinely thank Veelz for recognizing that I needed to be taken to see my therapist who, if you must know, has 180mm crankarms and mechanical disks.

Ahh, warm.

2008-02-24T15:56:00.000-08:00

I just got back from a very enjoyable road bike ride. Eighteen miles is only a little further than some people do on their rollers in the parking lot before a race, but I only had a limited amount of time to get the ride in. The rolling hills and northwest breeze kept things interesting.

I'm surprised I was motivated to go at all, given that I announced my intentions yesterday. Like I've said before, a ride bespoke the night before often happens not. The temperature went right past the forecast high of 78° and maxed out at a nice, warm 82°. You've got to love having sock tan lines in winter.

I'm going to go grab the last 3 Horses Lager from the refrigerator, take it out into the wonderfully mosquito-free yard, and watch the day end.

This is February, right?

2008-02-23T17:28:00.000-08:00

I don't know what Punxsutawney Phil said about winter this year, but this is what the National Weather Service's Tucson Forecast Office has to say about tomorrow.

Sunday

Mostly
Sunny
Hi 78°F

I managed a nice singlespeed ride last Monday and the weather wasn't even this nice. If I don't get out tomorrow - mountain or road, it doesn't matter which - then I am truly useless.

Gila's Fifth

2008-02-15T17:54:00.000-08:00

Ride bikes, lift weights, walk dogs, watch birds, ride bikes, lift weights, walk dogs, watch birds...these are my main pursuits or hobbies or stress relievers of whatever you want to call them. Well, as I sit here blogging through the middle of a winter storm, I'm feeling the rumblings of my fifth hobby: Nordic skiing. That's cross country to all you Europhobes out there. Actually, Nordic skiing includes ski jumping, so perhaps XC is more apt.

I haven't schussed a trail since BeanSS and I lived in Sacramento. We made a couple of trips into the Sierra Nevada/Tahoe Basin, once to ski at Camp Richardson (a quiet park in winter, a bustling RV campground in the summer) and another time to cruise along the shore at Donner Lake State Park. Yes, as in Donner Party. Prior to that, when we lived in Arizona the first time, we went to the Flagstaff Nordic Center, some snowplay areas, a few Forest Roads, and the Mormon Lake Lodge Ski Touring Center. There were some false starts and frustrating times, but overall, we had a whole lot of fun. I still enjoy fun, and so I want to try it again. Also, I was an even bigger lard ass back then and I've been wondering what my somewhat reduced mass and newfound upper body strength would do for me in the snow.

Back to the present. Yesterday, in the coincidence of coincidences, I thrift scored a nice set of used touring skis with NNN bindings to go with the used NNN boots I thrift scored last year. Besides wanting to test my revised fitness level, I've been trying to slowly update my gear from my old 75mm stuff. The 3-pin bindings work just fine, but damn they're hard to release from when my legs are all twisted up after one of my still-too-frequent wipeouts. Turning and stopping remain focus areas for me.

I also thrift scored a very nice pair of back country skis that'll need sturdier boots which I hope can be thrift scored in the future. I can be patient with the BC stuff as I can barely keep things together with touring skis on a groomed trail. Going off piste with free heels and fully-edged planks is asking for broken ankles, lacerations, impalement, or worse. Have I mentioned I can barely stop or turn?

Anyway, here I am, with the Santa Catalinas just across the Tucson Basin from where I live. Snow is probably falling right now, and may even reach the valley floor tonight. Rose Canyon Lake, yet another intolerably overcrowded summertime camping spot, will be a nearly silent, snow-covered paradise tomorrow morning. I won't be there, unfortunately, as I have other commitments for this weekend. Nevertheless, the seed has been planted, and I'm very much hoping to hit some snow sometime, somewhere in Arizona before this winter runs out.

And if I have jinxed things merely by mentioning that I would like to go skiing, all of this snow will eventually melt, thus subsiding Gila Hobby No. 6: fishing.

In other matters, I really feel for those poor souls camping out at 24 Hour Town right now. If the rain quits sooner rather than later, the course could be a peach. If it keeps dumping, there'll be a coupla' thousand people caked in a slurry of water, cow shit and decomposed granite desperately trying to find fresh brake pads at the expo. You know, like in 2005. I am still finding grains of sand hidden in the nooks and crannies of my components.

Go see Cal. Or not.

2008-02-03T08:54:00.000-08:00

As in Buteo jamaicensis calurus; the western subspecies of red-tailed hawk. Or at least that's what I wanted to call this especially pale-breasted bird before reconsidering the I.D. Could this be an example of the southwestern subspecies, B. j. fuertesi, named for famed bird artist Louis Agassiz Fuertes, master of avian portraiture? A coworker feels it's not pale enough to be a Fuertes. Either way, check out the little patch of windblown, out-of-place breast feathers.

Oh, and overhead utility lines made a startling photographic comeback right after I said I was glad to have had a shot of a raptor free of them. It's not my fault - the buteo took wing moments after I took this photo, but my digital camera's maddeningly long shutter lag kept me from getting off a second shot before the bird went out of sight over the house.

The snowbird returns

2008-01-25T09:20:00.000-08:00

I saw this Taiga-race merlin (Falco columbarius columbarius Linn.) during the morning dog walk, shortly before a close fly-over by a western red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis calurus Gmelin). The big hawk flew on, perched a few hundred meters away, then dove to the ground, presumably in pursuit of prey. The merlin remained calmly in place.

During the time it took me to walk home, drop off the dogs, grab my camera and drive back, the Merlin had caught its breakfast. The small falcon is plucking the feathers from what appears to be a male house sparrow (Passer domesticus Linn.).

I see this merlin somewhat regularly near my house during the winter, and I suspect it's the same individual that wintered in my neighborhood last year. Raptors seem to have a reasonably high degree of site fidelity to their wintering grounds.

Starting out my day with back-to-back bird of prey sightings was pretty enjoyable, but I'm even more pleased to have finally taken a perched raptor photo free of utility poles, overhead wires, and other distractions.

Bird work

2008-01-18T13:51:00.001-08:00

This handsome little devil is a male black-throated blue warbler (Dendroica caerulescens Gmelin). The species' breeding range in the U.S. and Canada is decidedly eastern and its winters are spent in the Caribbean. I've twitched several life birds during informal lunchtime bird walks along the Santa Cruz River near my office, but they were all species one would reasonably expect to see in the west. Having this particular bird turn up in urban Tucson was quite a surprise.

New ride

2008-01-12T17:44:00.000-08:00

I finally committed a day to the assembly of my new bike. Of course, it's not all that new - the frame is late '80s/early '90s bonded aluminum Trek that Veelz flowed me gratis last November (thanks again, bro). The components range from a vintage similar to the frame right up to reasonably new stuff and are a mix of parts from Craigslist, bike swaps, retired rides (both road and mountain), etc. It's primarily going to be a commuter, though I may take it out on days when I just don't feel like fixing the umpteenth flat tire on my current road bike.

Unfortunately, I was only able to take it for the shortest of test rides because I'm still feeling the effects of a nasty chest cold. Cycling requires more lung function than I have right now. Maybe tomorrow...

Dammit

2008-01-06T07:53:00.000-08:00

I was anticipating losing my last few days of vacation - and my final opportunities to go riding - to the rain and cold that had been forecast for this weekend. The weather turned out to be better than expected, and imminently bikeable, but I was instead completely floored by a nasty head cold.

Since Thursday night, I've spent most of my time bedridden, alternating between drenching sweats and uncontrollable shivers, tormented at times by fever-driven nightmares. It got BeanSS too, as her time line of symptoms is about a day behind mine. We've both been shoveling myriad over-the-counter drugs down our (sore) throats but like they say, a cold will go away in seven days with treatment, and a week without it.

I feel pretty good at the moment, and I need to feel even better tomorrow, as it'll be my first day back at work in a month. I wasn't really looking forward to going back in the first place, but it would be even worse if I had to show up feeling like I have for the last few days. I do happen to have something like nine months of sick leave built up, but you know how it would look to tack a coupla' sick days on to an already-long vacation. My main concern is that I'm beyond the point where I could spread whatever it is that I have to my coworkers - small offices like the one in which I work can turn into typhoid wards in no time.

At any rate, I'm holding out some small hope that I can get out and maybe walk the dogs today. While BeanSS and I have been laid up, Clayton and Dora have been cooped up. Their several days' worth of nervous energy resulted in the total dismemberment of a plush toy in less than the time it took me to write this post. It makes me wonder what might happen if I were to fall into a Nyquil-induced torpor on the couch. I'll be risking dual shoulder dislocations and a possible death by dragging if I take them out before I feel 100%, but I think it's got to be done.

Quattro Falco: Part II

2007-12-31T18:36:00.000-08:00

Back in June, I posted a photo of four juvenile American kestrels (Falco sparverius Linn.) that I sighted on a utility pole behind my house. December was another four-falcon month, only this time it was four species, rather than just four siblings.

During this most-recent 31-day period, I was finally able to get my field glasses on a pair of peregrine falcons (F. peregrinus Tunstall), a merlin (F. columbarius Linn.) and just yesterday, a prairie falcon (F. mexicanus Schlegel). Add these to the near-daily sightings of what are likely a few of the same American kestrels from the prior photo, or at least one or both of their parents, and I have all four of the falcons I could reasonably expect to see in eastern Pima County. It does, however, make me wonder what other diurnal raptors I might have seen were I to have traveled.

Nevertheless, the four falcons are among the 78 bird species I sighted in, over, or at some distance from my house during 2007. Further, that's 78 of the 84 species I've been lucky enough to see (and ID correctly, I hope) since moving here in autumn 2003. I'm looking forward to more "big sits" in 2008, though I do need to remember to: (a) bird somewhere other than in my front yard from time to time; and (b) more than occasionally ride a bicycle.

Oh, and Happy New Year!

1138

2007-12-25T12:56:00.000-08:00

Yet more plans have gone awry, albeit largely of my own doing. More bicycling? Nope; current excuses are alternating between it being too cold or too windy, and/or me being too lazy. Less weight lifting? Well, I'm doing fewer reps but am working out no less frequently. And now, two weeks of daily dog walks with Clayton and Dora have come to an abrupt end due to a small amount of getting bit while helping break up a scrap over a leftover rawhide chew. My hand seems a bit effed-up, so this last event might even force me to dial back on the other three. If it affects my ability to hold my binoculars, birding will go on hiatus as well. Either that, or I'm overreacting and will be fine by tomorrow.

On the other hand (literally - the one that doesn't have canine punctures), I've reacquainted myself with my inner geek by getting back into Star Wars. My wife and I are both old enough to have been into it since the beginning, just over 30 years ago. We spent the last few days watching all the movies, pausing here and there to shop for figures. BeanSS is into Jedi, while I dig on all things Fett. Searches of Craigslist for bike parts have been replaced by random perusals of Wookieepedia. Ah, to be a nerd again.

And for what it's worth, I agree with Dante Hicks that Empire had the better ending.

Killing quality time

2007-12-15T18:35:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning to find both a tiercel and falcon peregrine (Falco peregrinus Tunstal) perched in the eucalyptus snag that sits a few hundred meters north of my house. This particular collection of bare boughs and branches is/was one of the largest trees in the neighborhood and thus, has the sort of commanding, 360° view favored by birds of prey. It's also perfectly positioned to have a spotting scope trained on it from my side patio. Someday, a howling wind or a worried arborist is going to take that dead tree down. The hawk watching will never be the same.

The longer this vacation lasts, the more I'm unwinding. I wake to the first rays of the morning sun and the stirrings of our dogs, not the shrill beeping of an alarm in the pitch black. I eat my knockoff Lucky Charms, drink as much of my fancy-pants coffee as I please, walk the mongrels, and sit for hours watching birds before riding or working out. Oh, and it's not just birds I watch - three coyotes (Canis latrans Say) cruised up the dirt road this morning. One banked into a patch of desert across the street, one went south of the house next to the wash, and the third went up my driveway. I suppose I was surrounded. Oh well.

I'm also enjoying myself more now that the first couple of winter-type storms have come and gone. Yes, the southwest needs rain and snow but no, I don't enjoy being trapped in the house by inclement weather. On the other hand, the gentle rains and subsequent sunshine left the trails in state of perfect tackiness today - soft enough to accept tire tracks, dry enough not pack the knobs, and not a drop of mud to cake the frame. Yeah, it's all good here in southern Arizona.

The annual un-clenching

2007-12-10T17:22:00.000-08:00

My annual almost-a-month of end-of-year, use-it-or lose-it vacation time is officially underway and I won't need to see my desk until next year. Don't feel too envious - this one big 6-month work project, a summer and fall spent dwelling way too much on how unbearably bad things were going last summer and fall, and exorbitant gasoline costs combined to prevent me and BeanSS from taking any substantive time off to do anything or go anywhere special all year up to this point.

Anyway, I'm trying to put all of that behind me and I hope to use the next few weeks to get the fuck out of this funk. It had better be successful, too, because work is going to start right back up as hectic as ever the very minute I get back. To that end, and to end that, I resolve to purchase more lottery tickets in 2008.

At any rate, for the next month, there will be more cycling but no bike commuting. I will engage in less-frequent weight lifting, and will consume beer in moderation. Dogs will be played with and walked. I will try, and fail, to grow a beard. I will endeavor to assemble no less than two "new" working bicycles from the heap of parts in my workshop. I may hit up the Santa Cruz Flats and/or the Sulphur Springs Valley to add a few new bird species - especially certain northern raptors - to the life list. I want to be free from grown-up responsibilities for just this little while.

Now, if it would just stop raining and being cold, I could get going on all of this.

If there's no event, is it still training?

2007-12-08T07:04:00.000-08:00

As often as not, I use this blog to announce not only the things I intend to do, but also the things I do not intend to do. Brother Veelz saw my post about wussing out on SSWC08, and thus assumed I'd be man enough to duo the 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo with him. I've been thoughtfully considering his offer, discussing it with BeanSS, and carefully examining the training schedule I'd need to implement between now and Presidents' Day weekend. I still haven't decided, though I'm leaning towards improving on my wuss-out percentage for 2008. Stay tuned.

No matter my decision, there'll be no substantive training today, as Tucson is in the midst of a wet and windy winter storm. I might be able to lift weights, but I'll have to be careful not to smear the actively-rusting plates and hex weights on myself. All that iron is made in China, so I can assume the paint is lead-based. Also, I'm also a bit beat down from having just come back from a work trip to Silver City. The driving wasn't so bad, and the short birding excursions behind the hotel were as low of an intensity as exercise can be. What cashed me in was my first introduction to running on a treadmill in the hotel's fitness center. I ride. I lift. I hike. I almost never run. High impact exercise is probably not the best thing for a clydesdale's body - especially since riding a singlespeed abuses my knees already. I have to admit, though, that it hurts pretty good.

So much complaining to do, so little time.

Loco dreams

2007-12-02T08:44:00.000-08:00

I guess the El Pollo Loco I had for dinner last night was coming back up on me while I slept because I had a pretty vivid dream. In this dream, I was riding a midnight blue Surly Steamroller from my parents' old house in northwest Phoenix to Glendale Community College. I've never ridden a fixed-gear before, so it was nice to be able to test ride one in my sleep. The weird part was that the crank arms felt like they were about 75mm long, and the bike seemed to have about 1:1 gear on it. I was pedaling like mad in these tiny circles but wasn't really making any headway. Our two dogs then started stomping around the bed, which woke me up and ended the dream. I have no idea if I'd have made it all the way to GCC.

Here's the thing. I often dream that I'm doing things I wish I could do in real life, but have never been able to. And I don't mean stuff like being able to fly or travel through time, it's more mundane than that. Specifically, I have recurring dreams that I can: (a) do chin-ups; and (b) ride wheelies. I've done exactly one chin-up in my life - from the shower curtain rod in my dorm during college. My longest-duration wheelie lasted about 3 seconds, also during college. These sorts of dreams mock me when I wake up from them.

I distinctly remember that in last night's dream, I hopped on the bike in a perfect cyclocross-style running re-mount, sliding right into the saddle while my feet met up in perfect time with the rotating pedals. I used to work on that very thing when I lived in Sacramento. I worked at it because, while attending a NCNCA cyclocross clinic, I managed to bend the seat post and saddle rails within my first few tries. On my last re-mount attempt, I somehow put my cleated shoe in the back wheel, taco-ing the hell out of it. I, of course, didn't have a spare bike or wheelset, so I couldn't participate in the post-clinic CX race. I spent a long time trying to get better at getting back on the bike, but I never mastered it.

Back to the present day - what I'm hoping is that the part of last night's dream that I am doomed to never experience is the running re-mount, not the riding of a fixie safely, in traffic. While I really don't have a need to be able to hippety-hop into the saddle, I'd like to think one of the beat-up and broken-down old road frames in my workshop will live again as a fixie and that I'll be able to operate the damned thing.

I other news, the sun is once again shining on the Old Pueblo after a coupla' days of much-needed rain. I've got the motivation to either lift weights in the warm, clean air or go ride on some nice, tacky trails, but not both. December is the month during which I've vowed to become a bicyclist again, but I can't entirely give up on working out, either. To make the decision more straightforward, I went ahead and filled up the feeders in the front yard. If I can't decide between pushing pedals and pumping iron, maybe I can just sit on my arse and look at birds.