Wasting Time

Yeah, that’s what I did on Sunday. Originally I thought I would go for another bike ride, but I kinda overdid it riding at the year-end party on Saturday. I wasn’t hurting too bad, but I didn’t want to mess up the whole recovery process of my broken riblet. I thought that it would be better to take it easy and stay off the bike, even though I was dying to get back on it. The Dirty party Cycle was taking his big wheels out to Sherman Branch for a nice ride, and I kind of regret not going. I’ll resume a regular riding schedule soon enough, I suppose.


So what did I do? Well, to keep with the title of this post, I decided to waste a little time shopping for bike shit I didn’t need. Yep, I grabbed the fam and went to the Charlotte Motor Speedway for the The Big Stampede Southeast Bike Expo & Swap.


Yeah, it’s a shitty photo, but whatever.


This event is basically a bicycle parts flea market, and I figured that we should go in case there was something we couldn’t live without. I’m a sucker for new (used) shit, so I hoped that I would find some deals. We drove into the infield of the racetrack to get to the shopping goodness, and what I saw was a NASCRAP lover’s dream:







We each paid our five bucks at the gate and went inside. It colder than Jack Frost’s nipples outside, so it was nice to get inside with hundreds of other warm bodies. The place was fairly crowded with deal-searchers such as myself, but a little light in the vendor department. I snapped a quick photo of the inside stuff:



We walked around to each table, and everywhere we went we ran into someone we knew. I spent more time talking to my cycling friends than I did shopping. I didn’t find a whole lot to make me part with my cash either. So, it looks like I paid money to socialize with the rest of the Charlotte cycling community. We all wandered around looking for anything we could buy, but I was striking out. Quite a few of my cohorts said the same thing. We went for one more pass through the exhibitors, and I finally found something:



Yep, knee warmers. It’s starting to get cold here, and I found something to keep my knees from freezing. I guess that’s a common problem with cycling in the winter, so crisis averted. Lunchbox picked up some DeFeet arm warmers, even though he already has a pair. He said he would use the new ones for skateboarding. Good idea, I guess. Little Miss Sunshine picked up some things and put them back, having a hard time deciding if she really needed anything at all. I guess it was somewhat of a wasted trip, aside from all the socializing we did. I think we pretty much made out like Charlie Brown at Halloween.



Yeah, I usually like going to this event, but this year it wasn’t so great. There were a few of the “usual” vendors missing, but I don’t think that was the problem. Maybe I have enough shit accumulated in my garage to keep from from buying new shit to accumulate. I only have one project in the works (single speed conversion on my 29er), and I have everything I need for that (for now.) I guess I should get started on that pretty soon so I’ll have something decent to talk about. The Big Stampede was not what I had hoped for.



I do have some exciting news forthcoming, but I’ll wait as long as possible to tell you like I always do.

Party Over Here

On Saturday it was time to party. Our local mountain bike clubs, the Tarheel Trailblazers and the Dirt Divas held their year-end party at Anne Springs Close Greenway down in Fort Mill, South Carolina. The party is a way for all of us locals to get together every year for riding, socializing, good food, and beer, and this year was no exception.


The party started at 2:00 p.m., so we left the B-43 compound with plenty of time to spare (at least I thought so.) After a couple of stops along the way, we came screeching in the parking lot right at 2:00. We hopped out of my truck and started getting ready, since everyone was preparing to break off into groups and ride the trails. It took me a bit longer to get ready than I would have liked, since everyone I knew came over to say hello and inquire about my rib injury. As I finished getting ready, I saw that everyone else was preparing to leave:



In the photo above you might notice local celebrity Rich Dillen perched atop his brand spanking new squishy geared bike. I had no idea that we would have famous people at the event. Awesome.


Anyway, there were a couple of guided tour groups based on skill level, and some other folks broke off into their own speedy groups. As much as I wanted to join one of the fast groups to see how quick I could fall off the pack, I decided that I would join the slowest group. My rib is still hurt, and I didn’t need to bust my ass (and another rib) out there trying to keep up with the cool kids. Little Miss Sunshine, Lunchbox, and The Dirty Party Cycle rode along with this group as well.


We took off at a nice social pace, and my rib felt pretty good (I touched it several times to be sure.) We stopped every so often to let the group catch up, and I was enjoying this slow, easy ride. I didn’t want to risk further injury by taking photos while I rode, so I only busted out the camera when we stopped for a break. Here’s a “rest stop”:



The Dirty Party Cycle is telling Lunchbox about his new found love of big wheels.


We rode with the group for a while, and then we all stopped to cross a bridge. Since this was a beginner/slower group ride, we made sure everyone made it across. At this point Lunchbox, The Dirty Party Cycle, and I let the group go on, as we had to heed the call of nature. We let our bikes get a rest while we ventured off the beaten path:




We eventually caught back up to the group, but they were skipping one of the more advanced sections out there. Our little group within the group decided that we would permanently split from the main pack and go off on our own. We rode at a much faster pace now, since I was feeling pretty good. We had to stop at one point because Lunchbox was complaining of shifting issues though. After a short inspection, I saw that his front derailleur cable had snapped, causing his chain to remain in the granny gear. We tried to adjust the front derailleur to put the chain back on the middle ring, but it wasn’t working. We decided that we would slow down a bit and I would fix it when we got back home.


A little while later, I had an idea. At the top of a climb I decided that I would remove the quick link from Lunchbox’s chain, and place the chain on the middle chainring. This way the big ring and the front derailleur would keep it in place, allowing him a better gear ratio to continue the ride. Just when I thought I had solved the world’s problems,. I saw him coming up the hill and I noticed that something wasn’t right:



His bike was bouncing all over the place, and it wasn’t because of his suspension. His frame had cracked right at the pivot point on the rear triangle. Great, now Lunchbox was a frame killer too. I guess I’ll be ringing up the folks at Diamondback this afternoon to inquire about the warranty. They should take care of us, but I have a backup plan if they come up with some bullshit reason to keep us from getting a shiny new frame. Although he’s been wishing for a big-wheeled bike, this wasn’t the way he wanted to go about it. He finished the ride, but his spirit was broken.


We finally made it back from the ride, and Lunchbox was happy to get off the trail. He was heartbroken, but he will be riding again soon. As for me, I didn’t re injure myself, so I felt like I had to ride a little more. Rather than leave Lunchbox with his broken bike, I busted out my one-wheeled machine for a little play time.





This tuned out to be a very bad idea. I had forgotten the Muni’s tendency to violently throw me from it’s seat at any given time, and I took a small spill. My ribs didn’t sustain any further abuse, but I busted open an old wound:





I guess I’ve learned that I can ride the bike again (albeit carefully), but the Muni needs to stay in the garage for a while. I do the dumbest shit sometimes, but it’s usually for your entertainment. You’re welcome.


The party kicked off shortly thereafter. There was plenty of good beer, food, and even a raffle. I didn’t win shit, but Little Miss Sunshine made out like a bandit. We stayed until the sun went down, as you can clearly see in this photo:




I’ll be back tomorrow with more crap, and maybe even some news about Lunchbox’s bike.

Way Of The Samurai

Yeah, it must really seem like I’m digging for shit to talk about now (at least if you read the title.) Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk about this particular subject for a while. An old Army buddy of mine met this guy named Takashi Matsumoto a couple of weeks ago that was on a journey across the United States on a bamboo bicycle. According to his blog, Bamboo Samurai, “he promotes bamboo, bamboo bikes, and the neglected bamboo forests problem in Japan.” He had set out on a cross country adventure from the West Coast of the U.S. to the East Coast. The route would take him from San Francisco to New York, all while riding his custom bamboo bicycle.





My buddy Lew just happened to be on vacation in Missouri, and met the guy outside of a Bed & Breakfast. The owners of the place weren’t around, and he needed a place to stay where he could sleep and protect his bike. He had never stayed in a U.S. hotel before, since he had just been staying with people along his route. Lew packed his bike in the trunk and took him to the hotel. When he told me this I started following his adventures. Here’s a photo:





The next thing I heard was that he had been involved in an accident (Takashi, not Lew.) A lady driving an SUV hit him while he was riding, and he sustained a few injuries. Here's a link to the news story:


Man on bamboo bicycle hit by SUV - KFVS12 News & Weather Cape Girardeau, Carbondale, Poplar Bluff


He was banged up pretty bad, and his bike was toast. Lew took the short drive up to see him in the hospital, and things weren’t looking good as far as continuing his journey. Here’s a quote from his blog while he was in the hospital:


“We were both injured by a traffic accident.
But don't worry.
I could walk alone and bone was not broken. This was a lucky in unlucky.
And I don't lose challenging spirit yet to continue this trip. I had 2 broken parts of bamboo bike as memorial records of this trip. Oh...bamboo bike, I am sorry.”


After recovering in the hospital for a few days, he was released. Still injured, he vowed to continue his journey. A new bamboo bike is on the way, and he picked up some supplies for the remainder of his trip. That is the latest (as of today.) He seems like he’s in good spirits, especially for someone that was just run over by a giant American SUV. I’m sure it’s tough for him to keep going on, but we could all learn something from his adventures.


What have I learned? Well for starters, my injury is not really that bad. Sure, I hurt like hell, but that shouldn’t keep me off the bike. I’m just riding for fun, but it’s what I love to do and I’ll keep doing it until I can’t do it any longer. I’ll take it easy for a while, but I’m getting back on my bike as soon as I can. I’ll start tomorrow, when I take a nice leisurely ride with the family. I’m no Bamboo Samurai, and I surely don’t claim to be some kind of tough guy. I guess it’s all about doing what you love.


Do me a favor and follow the Bamboo Samurai for the rest of his adventure. Maybe you’ll learn something too, or at least be entertained. Just remember to keep coming back here. I will ride again, and you'll get to read all about it. Lucky you.

Get Yer Popcorn Ready

For what? Well, I made another movie. It’s nothing special, but what the hell is special about the stuff I put on here anyway? I was encouraged by Lunchbox to put together something with the little bit of footage I got from our trip to Bent Creek da udda day. Rather than sit here and complain about the injuries I suffered that day, I thought that making a small movie of our adventure would help me remember how fun the ride was (well, except for the crash at the end.) Unfortunately, I wasn’t running my camera during the crash (the batteries had died), but I still got a little of the downhill action.


I have an old, shitty helmet camera I brought along for the ride, and it doesn’t really do so well on the dimly lit singletrack. Hopefully I’ll get a new one for my upcoming birthday or Christmas. I’ve already asked Santa, so maybe he’ll come through for me. I actually like making movies, so a better camera would certainly help. Anyway, here is a little snippet of video from our trip to Bent Creek”:





I know, it’s kind of crappy (or a lot crappy, whatever.) The quality is horrible, the action isn’t so great, and my camera sucks ass. What do you expect? I mean, I could have had you watch this shit:




Come back tomorrow, and I promise I won’t post anymore crap like this (at least until I get a new camera.) If you don’t come back tomorrow, I’ll send my friend after you:

Lazy Sunday

I love that video. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I’m talking about last Sunday. Two days after The Accident, and I was already going crazy from being off the bike. With all of this beautiful weather, it was hard to hang around the house in an attempt to heal myself. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I decided to take a chance and go for a ride.


Last week I had already planned to ride for three days straight (Friday, Saturday, and Sunday), but my McRib action put a screeching halt to that shit. I already told you that I bailed on the ride at the Kerr Scott Trail System, and I was pretty disappointed. Sunday was supposed to be a ride with The Chili Man, his youngin’, and Lunchbox at Sherman Branch, and I didn’t want to miss that one either.


You see, The Chili Man is trying to get hooked on this whole mountain biking thing, and I had offered to take him on an easy ride on the trail Sunday morning. He knew of my injury, and probably would have understood if I cancelled the ride. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go out on the trail at a nice easy pace, and it might even keep me from going crazy. I decided to go, and we loaded up our bikes and headed out on that chilly morning.


We got to the trail, and I didn’t feel too bad. All I had to do was cruise along at an easy pace and keep myself upright. Usually that’s not a problem, but I didn’t want to take any chances. We headed out on the trail, and I hoped that I had made the right decision. I took it easy, and grabbed a few photos along the way:





You may notice that The Chili Man isn’t riding his custom spare parts bike that I built for him. After riding around on “better” bikes than his da udda day, I offered up my squishy bike, Goose. I would let my little-wheeled full suspension Diamondback Sortie 3 be his “Wingman in the woods.” He seemed to enjoy the comfort of the quality Fox suspension, and I was glad to let him take it for a spin. Anything to get someone hooked on this shit, you know?


We rode along, and I was pretty much pain free. Well, one little jump jarred my ribcage a bit, and I also banged my freshly scabbed over knee on my handlebars once. I made sure to play it safe after that. Well, as safe as I am capable of playing it anyway. When we came to my favorite feature out there (the giant log skinny), I gave our little riding group (and some curious onlookers) a demonstration. While I know it’s not wise to attempt such a thing with an injury like I have, I did it anyway. So much for playing it safe.


Speaking of playing it safe, The Chili Man was having none of that. He jumped the jumps, and hit all of the features on our little trail adventure. He even did this wooden roller coaster Loch Ness monster-looking thing without even stopping to eye it up first. I didn’t get any photos of it, since it caught me by surprise. I asked him to do it again, but he declined. Good call. The next stop at the log skinny was a little different.





Yeah, he really wanted to do it. For someone that’s supposed to be a beginner mountain biker, he sure had some balls. I waited with the camera (and my first aid knowledge) for him to try it, but it never happened. I know he really wanted to do it, but it was probably better that he didn’t. I know he’s kicking himself in the ass for not trying it, but he can always get back out there any time for another go. As for me, I decided that I wanted to temp fate and give it another shot:



Who needs time to heal? Not me, I guess.


We rode the trail to the end, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I jetted up ahead to snap a “group shot”:



Even though it probably didn’t seem like a great idea, I was glad to get out on my bike. The fact that The Chili Man came along was a bonus. We didn’t ride very fast, but it was still a whole lotta fun. I’ll take it easy from now on though, I promise. At the very least, I’ll take the rest of the week off from the bike, but I doubt I’ll stay off of it this weekend. It’s fall around here, which means good weather. As long as I don’t “fall” for a while, then I should be just fine.

Holy Cow

This was Lunchbox’s Halloween costume. Soooo scary.

I’m still recovering from my injuries, and it’s been a little difficult (especially when your kid is skateboarding in a cow costume.) When I woke up on Saturday morning, I could hardly move. I was supposed to wake up on this chilly morning to go for a ride at the Kerr Scott Trail System, but I didn’t see that happening. I had spoken to the MadSS the night before, and I informed him of my injury. I was more pissed about the fact that I might miss the ride than anything else. I was looking forward to it, but it wasn’t looking good. I told him that I would let him know for sure in the morning.


When I woke up at 6:30 a.m., I decided that I would use my better judgement and bow out of this one, much to my dismay. My rib was killing me (not literally, but whatever), and it was difficult to get out of bed. I sent a text message to my singlespeeding pal and told him I wouldn’t be joining the crew for a romp in the mountains. Instead, I just stayed in the bed. That was difficult for me to do, especially with the mountains calling my name. I painfully propped myself up with a few pillows and turned on the television. For me to spend a Saturday morning watching TV was unheard of, but I really couldn’t do anything else. Little Miss Sunshine had determined that I would be okay, and she gave me the green light for drinking beer (to aid in my recovery.) She brought me a nice hot cup of coffee (because I couldn’t drink beer for breakfast), and I waited until I felt good enough to get out of bed.


Lying around in bed didn’t make me feel much better, so I had to get out of the house. As the day wore on, I started moving around a little better. I hopped in my truck to go get it washed, which was something I’ve been meaning to do anyway. After stopping to pick up a few Halloween treats for the trick or treaters, I went back home. I decided that I should start self-medicating, so I popped open my first beer. I heard that the Dirty Party Cycle was stopping by to show off his new bike, so I waited around for him to arrive.


When he got there, I was feeling a lot better. He grabbed his new bike from his truck and I looked it over. Since the douchebag that stole his previous bike has never been caught, Mr. DPC had to buy a new one. He ended up with a Giant Talon 29er, which he seemed to be happy about. No new bike could ever replace the original Dirty Party Cycle, but this one is a good start. I decided to grab my own big-wheeled bike and we both headed down the street to see my neighbor, Chili Man. He immediately took a liking to the DPC’s new bike:





He rode it around a bit, and quickly realized what this whole clown wheel thing was all about. He also said something about how shitty his current bike felt in comparison, but I didn’t take offense to that. I built his bike out of spare parts, so it was the best that I could do. Just because you pour syrup on shit doesn’t make it pancakes.


A little stroll around the neighborhood felt good. My rib still hurt like a mofo, but it was nice to pedal at least a little bit. I can actually feel the crack in my rib when I poke it with my finger, and I must admit that it’s kind of neat. I’m not sure how long I’ll actually be off the bike, but I hope it isn’t long. It could take up to six weeks for this shit to heal, but I don’t know if I can wait that long. Maybe I can go out for a ride on the trail somewhere, if I’m careful. I think the pain of not riding will be worse than the pain of my crash injuries anyway. All I have to do is convince Little Miss Sunshine and I’ll be back on the trail in no time. I’m sure she thinks I’ll end up being hurt worse. She may be right. I could end up doing this:




Shit. That photo does nothing for my argument. I’ll have to come up with something else.

It's "Fall"

Lunchbox and I had the day off last Friday, and I told y’all that we were heading up to Bent Creek for a little fall riding. Little did I know that the word “fall” would end up with a different meaning to me. Anyway, since we were passing by one of my favorite businesses along the way, we decided to stop in and say hi:





Yep, that’s Lunchbox posing in front of a display at DeFeet International. We were hoping to pay a visit to some of our friends there, but we didn’t see anyone we knew. All was not lost though, since we still ended up with some pretty cool socks. After a short visit, we kept traveling westbound on Interstate 40, headed towards Asheville, North Carolina. We stopped in for a visit at the Carolina Fatz Bike Shop, since I needed a map of Bent Creek and a few extra tubes. The folks there were very friendly and helpful, so next time you head out that way to ride make sure you stop in to pay them a visit.


A few minutes later we arrived at the trailhead. After unloading our bikes and getting dressed, it was time to ride. It was a little chilly outside (around 45 degrees or so), so we hoped that the long climb to the top would warm us up a little. On the way up on the fire road climb, Lunchbox wanted to pose in front of this cool dude for a photograph:



After that, it was more climbing. It wasn’t a bad climb, and Lunchbox was looking forward to getting to the top so we could bomb the downhill stuff. He did a great job on the climb, and seemed to be having fun:



A short while later, we started to see some of the cool fall colors we were hoping for:



Lunchbox was happy to be so high up on the mountain, but the climb had tired him a little:



It was all worth it when we saw the sights all around us:



We climbed a little more (on some singletrack this time), and made it to another clearing with a cool view:



It was then time to head downhill on one of my favorite trails out there, Ingles Field Gap:



I ran my shitty video camera, but I haven’t had a chance to go through the footage yet. I can tell you that it was super fun though, and we were flying down the trail. I looked down at my speedometer every once in a while, and noticed that I was hitting speeds of nearly 30 miles per hour. The trail was covered in leaves though (it is fall, you know), and that made it tough to stay on it around the tight, twisty singletrack. I took all of the jumps and berms at full speed though, with little regard for my own safety. It was well worth it, and Lunchbox agreed:



We rode back up the fireroad for a bit, and caught another singletrack section, Wolf Branch. This trail was fun too. It wasn’t covered with as many leaves, so it was easier to go fast. The trail leads back to the parking lot, and I was going a lot faster than I should have. After some more fun downhill, the trail leveled off a bit. This is the part where things went bad.


As we got a little closer to the parking lot, I started picking up speed. I passed over a small rock garden that leads into a small bridge, and I lost control on a pile of leaves. My rear wheel slid out towards the end of the bridge, and it got caught on the edge. My bike quickly swerved the other way, and threw me towards the ground. I remember hitting the ground on my right side, with my elbow tucked into my ribcage. I heard a loud crunch, and then everything went dark. I thought I hopped right up, but Lunchbox said I was on the ground for a minute or so.


I guess I was out, but I did get back up after a few minutes. I could hardly breathe, and my leg was covered in blood. I took off my helmet and noticed that it was scratched on the right side, which would probably explain why I was out for a moment. Those stupid leaves (brown ice as they call it out there during fall) caused my crash, and now I wondered how bad I was hurt. After walking around for a few minutes, I found my bike on the ground with a flat tire. I guess the edge of the bridge had caused my tire to loose its air, so now I had a dilemma.


I asked Lunchbox if he wanted to walk out the rest of the way, and he said it was up to me. I was in a shitload of pain, but I felt like I would be okay to get back to my truck. I decided that I would change my tube so I could at least try to ride it out, and then I would be able to fully asses my injury. Always the quick thinker (and great photographer), Lunchbox grabbed the camera and took a picture of me while I changed my flat:



He could have helped change the tube, but his job around here is to take photographs. He offered his assistance, but I kept playing the tough dad and told him I would be okay. After getting my tube in the tire and airing it up, we slowly rode back to the parking lot. I was hurting a lot more by then, so he helped my load the bikes back on the truck for our 2 ½ hour drive home:



I poked around my ribcage for a minute, and felt the crack. One broken rib was all I found. Not snapped all the way through, but damaged enough that I could feel it. It hurt to take deep breaths and it hurt to sneeze, laugh, and cough (still does.) I also got a nice scrape on my knee:



My helmet was scratched up, but my head was okay. I wasn’t dizzy or anything either. I had a nice bruise on my hip, and my shoulder has one too. Since I was almost certain that a trip to the emergency room would be a waste of time (they can’t really do anything for a broken rib), I decided that we would get something to eat before we drove back to Charlotte. We stopped by our favorite local spot, Papas & Beer, for a nice Mexican dinner (and 16 ounces of “medicine.”) We got home that evening, and the fun was just beginning.


Little Miss Sunshine (being a former medic) checked me out and decided that I shouldn’t drink anymore beer. She was worried that my injuries were far worse than I could see, and that I might not wake up the next day. Shit. I wasn’t worried about the not waking up part though. Instead, I was more concerned that I was supposed to ride with my friends at the Kerr Scott Trail System the next morning. I got The Big O ready that night, and hoped that I would be able to ride when I woke up, if I woke up at all.