P
Paladin
Guest
It had warmed up to 30degF this a.m., (compared to high teens and lower
20's all week) so a small group met at the Military Reserve area at
8am. New guy joined us who had just moved from Ecuador, Craig the
Bomb-Group King, and his co-worker, a hardcore racer type.
Kinda fun to ride with people better than you sometimes. Realized
later on that I ride solo too much and settle for a liesurely pace
compared to what these putos pushed me to. I choose the start, and
its a gradual dirt road up to the first mesa, with a great view of the
valley.
Find out early on that my RF crankset and battered xt derraileur have
conspired to keep me out of my lower gears, so here I am lugging Father
Titus up the hills in a singlespeed gear. But hey, this is what I'm
used to. Can I get an "Amen!" Reverend Wheeler??
So after the first climb, there's a nice twisty singletrack that heads
back into this canyon. Racer boy and I are talking so much we miss the
turn off, but our track meets the other one soon enough. Drop down
into a gulch for a while before this fairly long but pretty gradual
climb up about 6 big looping switchbacks over ~2 miles. I try to shift
down, but can't. So no joke, I stand the whole steenkin way, in a gear
ratio something aking to 32x18 by the feel of it.
Get warmed up, drop into the zone, and make it to the top with no
greater damage than having caught the guy's wheel with mine a few
times, as it's hard to regulate your speed when you're standing up and
cranking like a tired fat old monkey on crack.
Then we book it over to Shane's Trail, and racer wants to do the loop
in a clockwise direction. That's fine. The climbs are tough but
doable, even in my defaulted "singlespeed." Feels good to work it now
and then, you know?
Turns out the amigo from Ecuador is used to riding above 12,000 feet so
our climbs are nothing to him. Reminds me of when the Freak comes to
visit...
Well, to make a short story longer, we come out on top, lower our
seats, drop down the loop descent, drop into a new little twisty hombre
called Bucktail, and we're really moving. I haven't ridden with a
group this fast in a long, long time. Fun to push the Father Titus and
learn to trust the old reverend more and more at speed.
Leave Bucktail and take this long, pretty straight descent full of
great jummping water bars as its warmed up to about 35 by now, but
going down is kinda chilly at speed.
Eventually wander our way into the jungle, which is a cool, but short
section that comes out on the cement culvert with the series of drops.
I nail them all, even the last large one, and start to congratulate
myself that wild man Craig and I are the only ones who even tried the
last one. I guess pride cometh before a fall. Because that last drop
put me into a creek bed that was dry where I landed, but I had to cross
sideways toward the right to climb out and it was slick and smooth. How
slick and smooth, you may ask? Like snot over ice, which it *was*
after the sun melted some of the ice off the surface.
So yours truly Iaid it over <SMACK!> on my right side and slid about
10 feet across this natural skating rink, truly LMAO. Came up a little
battered, but feeling great. The crash to my right side balanced out
the royal biff I took on the road bike last week to my left side. And
I refuse to say that I'm getting too old for this. I still love it.
Biffs and all.
And if it wasn't for the fact that I'm and old retro-fart singlespeeder
whose just too stubborn to throw in the towel, there's no way I coulda
climbed the hills in those higher gears with my drivetrain decomposing
like it was.
To top it all off, the Bomb boy bought breakfast.... life is good.
CDB
20's all week) so a small group met at the Military Reserve area at
8am. New guy joined us who had just moved from Ecuador, Craig the
Bomb-Group King, and his co-worker, a hardcore racer type.
Kinda fun to ride with people better than you sometimes. Realized
later on that I ride solo too much and settle for a liesurely pace
compared to what these putos pushed me to. I choose the start, and
its a gradual dirt road up to the first mesa, with a great view of the
valley.
Find out early on that my RF crankset and battered xt derraileur have
conspired to keep me out of my lower gears, so here I am lugging Father
Titus up the hills in a singlespeed gear. But hey, this is what I'm
used to. Can I get an "Amen!" Reverend Wheeler??
So after the first climb, there's a nice twisty singletrack that heads
back into this canyon. Racer boy and I are talking so much we miss the
turn off, but our track meets the other one soon enough. Drop down
into a gulch for a while before this fairly long but pretty gradual
climb up about 6 big looping switchbacks over ~2 miles. I try to shift
down, but can't. So no joke, I stand the whole steenkin way, in a gear
ratio something aking to 32x18 by the feel of it.
Get warmed up, drop into the zone, and make it to the top with no
greater damage than having caught the guy's wheel with mine a few
times, as it's hard to regulate your speed when you're standing up and
cranking like a tired fat old monkey on crack.
Then we book it over to Shane's Trail, and racer wants to do the loop
in a clockwise direction. That's fine. The climbs are tough but
doable, even in my defaulted "singlespeed." Feels good to work it now
and then, you know?
Turns out the amigo from Ecuador is used to riding above 12,000 feet so
our climbs are nothing to him. Reminds me of when the Freak comes to
visit...
Well, to make a short story longer, we come out on top, lower our
seats, drop down the loop descent, drop into a new little twisty hombre
called Bucktail, and we're really moving. I haven't ridden with a
group this fast in a long, long time. Fun to push the Father Titus and
learn to trust the old reverend more and more at speed.
Leave Bucktail and take this long, pretty straight descent full of
great jummping water bars as its warmed up to about 35 by now, but
going down is kinda chilly at speed.
Eventually wander our way into the jungle, which is a cool, but short
section that comes out on the cement culvert with the series of drops.
I nail them all, even the last large one, and start to congratulate
myself that wild man Craig and I are the only ones who even tried the
last one. I guess pride cometh before a fall. Because that last drop
put me into a creek bed that was dry where I landed, but I had to cross
sideways toward the right to climb out and it was slick and smooth. How
slick and smooth, you may ask? Like snot over ice, which it *was*
after the sun melted some of the ice off the surface.
So yours truly Iaid it over <SMACK!> on my right side and slid about
10 feet across this natural skating rink, truly LMAO. Came up a little
battered, but feeling great. The crash to my right side balanced out
the royal biff I took on the road bike last week to my left side. And
I refuse to say that I'm getting too old for this. I still love it.
Biffs and all.
And if it wasn't for the fact that I'm and old retro-fart singlespeeder
whose just too stubborn to throw in the towel, there's no way I coulda
climbed the hills in those higher gears with my drivetrain decomposing
like it was.
To top it all off, the Bomb boy bought breakfast.... life is good.
CDB
