Worn down by repeatedly defending myself against attacks on my
masculinity and my gastrointestinal processing, I've decided to write
up a little ride report in a vain attempt to change the topic.
After negotiating with my GF about when I'd get to hanging the new
blinds and some kitchen shelves, I managed to wrangle some time on the
mtb. (Translated, that means that while she was in the shower I
grabbed the bike and some gear and hightailed it out the door to the
car.) By the time she knew what happened I was strapping the rack onto
the bent up trunk of the Volvo. In just over an hour (and after 5
ignored voice mails) I was filling the Buttermilk parking lot with the
unwelcome sounds of Hawkwind while unsuccessfully rifling through my
trunk for chain lube.
There was a bit of precipitation the night before, but not much.
Hartshorne butts right up against the Atlantic and the sandy soil
drains well. It was, admittably, a bit muckier that I had expected.
99% of the trail was nice and tacky, but some of the areas that
commonly hold water were bogs. This winter has been so weird. Some of
the ground seemed frozen, while other parts were wet. It was like
riding on an apple with rotten spots. Not a perfect metaphor, but
it'll do.
Anyhoo, I've installed some new gimmicks on the old nag. First up was
probably the best and worst purchase -- some green Magura Race Line
brake pads. "Best" because, man, it's funny what some new pads will do
for you. I can't remember the last time I replaced them, and... ahh...
slowing without white-knuckling. What a luxury. "Worst" because
they're considered outdated tech and thereby tough to find these days
so I paid the premium for them. $40 for a full set of brake pads.
Seriously. Forty bigguns for four pads. I searched the city and the
interweb for them and wound up biting the bullet. But it is kinda nice
to get come to a controlled halt without having to go Flintstone-
style. Plus I can put off the whole lever/caliper/disc/hubs thing for
another while. I should probably invest in a front derr that actually
shifts reliably into the granny first -- that's only been happening
for 8 years or so.
I also got to test out my new jim-dandy 31.8 Titec Hellbents and Rip
3D stem. Nice stuff. Less flexy than the old 25.4 Hellbent/Big Al
combo, and that's a happy thing. The new stem is fully forged, too. No
cool-looking welds to pop. The 4 faceplate bolts are surprisingly
skinny, but after 1 offroad ride, no probs to report.
I also finally got rid of my ancient SDG Kevlar saddle and replaced it
with a roadbike handmedown San Selle Marco. Also good stuff. That old
SDG is roughly the width of a brick and after 10 years or so of foam-
compression really felt like one. It went on the snow bike, which is
usually ridden with a couple layers on anyway. This year, it has been
rarely ridden, period.
Anyway, the trails were clear of leaves and debris, and though here
and there roots poke through the erosion doesn't look to have
increased. The leafless wintertime is nice there, as you notice more
vantage points out over the Sea Bright inlet. I stopped for half a
granola bar beside a flat section and realized that I'd been in the
identical spot around 20 years ago when my buddy Doug rode up and
suddenly went OTB for no visible reason. He was the best technical
rider I knew then, and I was always a muddy, bloody, out-of-control
slob, so it was a pretty comical scene. (What's that saying? "The way
you do one thing is the way you do everything"?) He wasn't but
scratched and bruised up and we still have a good laugh about it when
we're able to meet up for a ride.
It's a popular place, mostly hikers, lots of dogs. Most of the MTBers
were friendly, though I did nearly commandeer some Jack's handlebars
as he etiquettlessly (?) wormed downhill and stopped my uphill
momentum on a particularly muddy section. Older guy, moustache, white
Cannondale. Schmuck.
Yep.
/s