The Alliance is all about people coming south to ride and we wished them all luck and then did our own thing. Our own thing was pretty hard core. We started our Camp Knuckler on Saturday night with the opening ceremonies. The Mooseknuckler Cycling Alliance Social Lounge was opened for the event. Seeing that we are not prejudice, we even let some Lynda Campers join us for the celebration.

Physics Brian told us all about how he had cheated. I couldn’t figure out how pedaling was cheating but apparently you were supposed to follow a certain route and he prefers singletrack.

Sunday came without warning. As in there was no memory of the transition from Saturday to Sunday and the morning was particularly brutal. I bid adieu from bed to the Lynda Campers as they headed out for some more “fun.” I slowly began preparing for what would be the highlight of mountain biking in Southern Utah for the month of February, the 3rd Mooseknuckler No Dabs Contest.

I had planned on being good and warmed up for the climb up to Zen, so had made plans to ride the Barrel Ride before hand. As morning switched to noon, I was having doubts if I could even turn a pedal (I have confidence issues). Shelby offered to drive which was a good thing. My head reattached itself about half way up the race course.

Seeing as we were simply “warming up” for the main event, we spent a lot of time watching other people riding back down the trail and saying, “Is that a cross bike?” Which the way I just framed it doesn’t seem like a valid question. However, in the light of following cross bike tracks up the trail we were sure Mitch was rocking around somewhere ahead of us. Plus it gave us a good reason to stop and wheeze for a bit before continuing.

Our “warm up” didn’t take as long as planned and so we cooled down waiting for the rest of the folks to show up. Mitch rolled up looking like he wanted to “warm up” as well but instead stood around with us waiting. We finally rolled out about 3:30 which happens to be the exact time that we had planned to start.

We decided to break the event down into two separate sections, Upper Zen and Lower Zen. Shelby showed us all up on Upper Zen with but one dab on ‘im. The rest of use were two or more and held our heads in shame. After watching Shelby run an almost perfect run on Upper Zen, I was convinced that we would be having another installment of the No Dabs Contest on Zen because I would like to be witness of a perfect ride. Lower Zen was a tie between Prattipus and myself with Shelby coming in second with one dab. He did get cocky so we were glad he came crashing back down.

And Fixie, before you ask, Yes I rode the singlespeed.

Judge Dame was also in the singlespeed category. He rode with us and as always we enjoyed his company. When we were all done and telling our big stories about riding over rocks and then turning left, Judge Dame asked what the Mooseknuckler was. I did my best to be coherent and attempted to tie in all of your answers. I think I did a pretty good job because I ended with, “The ironic thing is that none of us wear lycra.”

Good times were had by all. Those who weren’t there were missed. And those who were there, were not missed.

P. L. and R.

Sunday saw the Mooseknuckler-mobile out to Babylon. Shelby was hoping for some good light for some video taking. KB and I hadn’t ridden the trail so we tagged along. Unfortunately, the light was less than cooperative with the hazy afternoon and all. Despite the lack of death defyingly beautiful video, good riding was had by all. Except maybe Shelby who lugged around all his photo equipment…

Yesterday, found your Uncle Knuckler with a head full of old demons that he thought he had slain. Luckily, I had the day off and plenty of bikes from which to pick. Even with the shed full of bikes, it took a good deal of mental effort to kit up and pedal may way into the desert instead of grabbing the bottle and putting MASH on repeat. It took about five miles, but once I hit the Prospector I couldn’t help but smile and watch the clouds play with the red rocks. After that point, there was nothing that could stop me from riding as much as I possibly could. I spun out to Red Cliffs, rode the little loop in the parking lot and worked my way home, hitting every section of singletrack I could find.

Them demons been exorcised. Nuf said.

Speaking of all those bikes. It has been determined that we are at capacity.

The only good thing about that is one of the bikes isn’t ours. We borrowed my dad’s 29′r hardtail so KB could see if she needed one. So technically we have space for one more. And I guess we could always put a couple back in the drum room if we absolutely necessary…

After organizing the corral on Sunday, I couldn’t help but feel a little bad that my International hadn’t been ridden in a while. I’m not one to hit the pavement often but I really dig this bike. And she was covered in dust with flat tires. I got off a little early today and decided to maximize my time for riding and grabbed the skinny tire bike. It’s been a while, but when I got home from my road ride, I had a big smile on my face and plans of riding her again soon have been bouncing around in my head ever since.

In preparation for today’s ride, I realized I needed a saddle bag. Thanks to Scarf I had one handy that went well with the overall motif of my thoughts of road riding.

Aint she a beaut?

Anyway, my legs currently feel like lead and my good friend Jose is here to help me get through the evening. So I must bid you all goodnight, but first, the photo evidence of Babylon (yea, I know Shelby, the light is flat…).

P. L. and R.

The List:

As the race organizer, I was not going to participate and headed out on the crazy blue bike to observe and snap some shots. After some begging, I ended up riding most of the course. Yup, pedaled the beast to the top of dump hill. I kind of hope it never crests that summit again.

The next one will be the 24th of February. Be prepared…

A note on the photos, the shitty ones are mine taken with my phone. The good ones are Scarf’s. If you would like to see the winner’s photos you have to go to Facebook.

Out.

Distribution: All Mooseknucklers

Subject: This Friday is the Mooseknuckler Cup. Meet at the Mooseknuckler Cycling Alliance Social Lounge a little before 8 (we will be riding out at 8 sharp) for the fourth race in the Mooseknuckler Cup Series. This is the first Alley Cat to ever take place in Washington, Utah making it Epic and Historical. You definitely don’t wanna miss out. As always we will end the race in a location that will allow for lots of story telling and shit talking. Be there!

End Memo.

I’ve been getting a lot of inquiries about the Alliance this last week or so. As many of you have probably noticed, I never really know what to say. For those of you searching for meaning, I will now do my best to define the Alliance. We are an Alliance (loosely affiliated) of cyclists that like to ride, get rowdy and have fun. The Alliance has no specific goals that it tries to accomplish, there are no members and no membership dues. We are like a club without leadership. The Alliance has and will attempt (probably poorly) to put on underground/small events to facilitate the getting rowdy and riding bikes. And as an Alliance any of you who consider yourselves part of the MCA can add to that definition whatever you want. Add it in the comments…

In commuting news, the crazy guy on the blue bike has once again been spotted roaming the city. He has grown a beard and seems to be at it again. Blocking car traffic with a big smile on his face and a trail of petroleum free exhaust in his wake. He just wishes all the cars would stop blocking the bicycle traffic.

And now your shrubbery.

P. L. and R.

I conquered a demon that has been haunting me for years. Yes years. I am right now trying to figure out how long it has been since I first pussed out on this move, but my memory is failing me. I’m sure it has been at least five.

It was such a huge demon for me that I dubbed it the Wall of Death. I’ve watched it ridden by numerous people hundreds of times, but I could never get myself to drop in.

Well, this past Sunday I did. I rode the Wall of Death. Shelby has a photo of it.

Which I have stolen.

As in all demons, once conquered I felt like a pussy. It sure didn’t seem like it was as bad as I thought it was.

Here’s Danny riding it.

Demons have haunted me since I first started riding bikes. I can’t recall a time that there wasn’t a move that I was either avoiding or unsuccessfully trying to clean. The first one I killed was the middle finger of the Three Fingers of Death. I had ridden both the right and the left, but I couldn’t quite get my front tire to drop off that tiny drop that takes you to the end. I would roll up skidding (they used to call me skid) sideways right up to the lip and then stop. Looking over the edge, my fingers twitching with anticipation but then my ball sack would suck back into pussy zone and I would dab.

At this point I would be angry with myself. Shouldering my bike I would scramble down the drop and then roll the last section of the finger. I would always stop and look back, knowing that at some point I would have to drop that bitch and kick its ass.

Of course, I finally did let go of the brakes and send my front tire over the lip. At which time I arrived safely at the bottom and did my ever so characteristic throw of the bike and screaming that has become my victory dance over demons. The rush of adrenaline of success is what probably hooked me on mountain biking. I’m still an addict today.

In many ways that is what the No Dabs Contest is about. Attempting and attempting until that demon that has plagued your mind and sleep is cast into the deep. Just like Gandolf conquering his demon in The Fellowship of the Ring. Yes. It is that epic. The idea is to take a trail that is close to impossible to clean and then give it everything you have to clean it. Have people cleaned it? Yup. Do they tend to do it consistently? Nope.

I’m not sure when the next contest will be, but I hope more of you come out. It is a good time and a great way to challenge yourself on some of the most awesomest riding in the world (and it happens to be in our back yard).

P. L. and R.

I’ve always held that my best friends are those with whom I have shared singletrack. There is something  mystical about riding that forges bonds, bromances and what have yous. For the past three years I have had the opportunity to go riding with many students at Dixie State College as part of the Mooseknuckler Cycling Alliance outreach program. I get eight rides to show the ropes of riding dirty. I hope I do it justice.

There are students that I enjoy, students I don’t remember, those that linger in my mind like bad socks and those that become friends. The above picture is of a Norwegian student that came through my class, taking it multiple times and whose company I always enjoyed.  Not because he was the best rider. Not because he thought like me. Rather because he always had something to say that made me think. He was an outside opinion. I got to ride one last time with Erlend over the Xmas break and as always enjoyed it.

He is off to greener pastures and the Alliance wishes him the best of luck…

Speaking of pastures and the things that tend to lay within them, we had our third Alley Cat this past Friday. Fortunately, the only people to show were more interested in racing to the bar to have a drink than doing any actual racing. So we headed to Jazzy’s by the straightest path and never looked back. I have saved the course for this month’s race, unless the same friends show up and we just want a beer.

Speaking of this month and its inaugural sense, we had the second installation of the Mooseknuckler Cycling Alliance’s No Dabs Gooseberry Contest type ordeal. The contestants were few but came ready to rock. Prattipus, Shelby, Kevin Foote, the Berg and I headed up the South Rim to try our luck against one of the hardest trails in the area. We all faired quite well. I must admit it gave me pride to listen to the Berg counting hers and trying her best not to dab. She did well.

In the series, Prattipus and I find ourselves tied at two dabs each.

The Photo Evidences.

In mentioning photo evidences, Shelby has some good ones over on his blog as well. Check it out.

The weather has been pretty much on the amazing side for the past couple of weeks. If you haven’t been riding you should be ashamed.

P. L. and R.

Two Sundays ago, we did a multi-surface ride with Fixie, KB and Lynda Wallenfells. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ride the CX bike on a ride so perfectly designed for it. I got my skinny on by skidding down the steps on Dino Cliffs, cruising on the pavement and hammering the dirt roads.

We did a Fixie designed loop that consisted of all three of the above surfaces. We started at the Winkel Trailhead (or if you prefer the official name, Cottonwood) and headed out on Prospector. The only bike that is more fun than a singlespeed CX is a singlespeed 29′r. The skinny tires make things a bit more sketchy and you can gain some amazing speed on the smooth sections. Just don’t forget about the sudden turns. I don’t think you could have knocked the smile off my face.

From Prospector, we headed to the Dino Cliffs. I tend to ride the Cliffs on my way to Church Rocks, but riding it this direction is a hell of a lot more fun. Except of course, the sand hill. We hit the dirt road known as Grapevine and made our way to the Interstate over pass and bombed down to and across Telegraph where we hit the bike path that drops to the Virgin. We followed this for as far as we could and then did some “This Land is your Land, This Land is my Land” traversing to hit the dirt road that is the back way to Sand Hollow.

It had been some time since I had been over that way and the views were pretty awesome. The road was loose in a couple of spots but the skinnies did just fine. After the dirt road, we made it to the paved road into Sand Hollow which we followed back to the highway and made our way around to Quail Creek and to the bottom of Prospector in Red Cliffs. And you guessed it, we road the bottom section of Prospector back to the car.

All in all we did about 27 miles. It was a beautiful day and fun was had by all.

Getting back on the CX bike has kept with my whole trying not to be a pussy thing we discussed a few posts back. Long rides, rough terrain and skinny tires.

Yea, I like that combination.

Some Photo Evidence from a few rides that the Alliance has hit since the last post.

And yes I do use cheater brakes. After today’s ride, I realized that it may make them easier to use if I actually adjusted the lever so I could grab it. I’ll let you know how that goes tomorrow.

Jumping to a completely different subject, This Friday will be this month’s Alley Cat. It is a New Year’s Eve Eve Alley Cat. You can read all about it here.

The Alliance has also been busy working the “advocacy” side of the table. If you haven’t checked it out yet, hop on over. DMBTA. There will be more content soon. I promise.

Anyone interested in doing a night ride tomorrow? Drop me a line. I may become interested if there is the right kind of persuasion.

Now a jam for Prattipuss.

I may be crazy but it seems that he once told me that he couldn’t stand to build houses for ass holes he would never meet and that never made an effort to say thanks. Great song.

Remember to get the skinnies out on the dirt and to keep it hard.

Peace. Love. And Revolution.

If you are lacking in the cool factor, these will most definitely make up for it. I can honestly say it is the only wallet I have ever owned that I get complimented on, consistently. Just think, you could be someone.

Since we are on the subject of wallets, I have been saving a rant for a while. It has simmered, aged and perfected itself. You see, I’ve been buzzed on my bike many times. So many times that I couldn’t tell you where that number sits. On occasion I have been buzzed by the same car, in the same spot, multiple times. However, there has only been one vehicle that has buzzed me that was dumb enough to have their phone number and place of business stickered across the back window.

I was nigh ran off the road twice by this same mini-van on Middleton Drive in April. I have spotted the van on ocassion in the city. One of those occassions was last night. I thought about keying the car, slashing their tires, or removing all four of their valve cores, but I was in front of Benja’s and could see the owners sitting right in front of their van enjoying dinner. So I took a picture.

Now, I don’t know these people, nor have I used their services, but as a cyclist that shares the road with them I will never be giving them a call. And I strongly suggest that none of you do either. In fact, you have their phone number and business name, do with it what you will, if you get my drift. It is a rare occasion that I get that kind of information on someone who doesn’t give space to cyclists.

So in the theme of wallets, don’t open yours to them.

In other wallet-themed news, we will be doing the below mentioned night ride. Meet at the Navajo Drive trailhead for the Bear Claw Poppy. We will ride as long as the temps feel good. I also know that one Fixie Dave has a good 12 pack of Cerveza that will warm you up or down at the end of said excursion and I don’t think he will ask for anything out of your wallet.

See you all in a couple of hours. I will have the wallets with me if you want one…

P. L. and R.

If you really want to make cycling difficult, sometimes it takes some preparation. I suggest that you start the night before. Remember, nobody likes a procrastinator. So check your forecast. If you see that a day that you have off from work is going to be amazingly beautiful, the night before that day you start to party.

Now everything is best in moderation, so it goes to be moderate with your moderation and have a good time. Even better, if you can fit 2-3 parties into the night, better yet. It is also advised that on this night of ruckous behaviour, you should stay up at least five hours later than you normally do. This just adds to the difficulty. You may say that lack of sleep is over the top. Well, my response to that is, do you wanna live your entire life doing things half-ass? Didn’t think so.

Now that the night is passed and morning is upon us breaking with a bright, shiny sun, you have to make sure that you have the fortitude to stay the course. Many a lesser human being, when presented with the task you have taken upon yourself would shrink back into bed not to emerge until the next day. But nay, you must drag yourself out and start to learn to balance with the cobwebs weighing down your thought processes. This essential to actually being able to ride your bike which happens to be impossible when stuck on your backside in bed.

The next steps are easy and tend to fall into place once you have made the effort the night before, but in the interest of providing a complete guide I will enumerate them for you.

1. Remove your cycling shoes from the car. If you really want to go over the top, make sure the shoes you do wear to the trailhead have an extremely soft sole.

2. Plan a ride that consists of driving for about 1 hour and about 45 minutes of actually riding.

3. When leaving the trailhead, leave your water in the car. You are already dehydrated why try to change that now…

The key to all of this is really making sure that none of your riding buddies know what is going on because they will try in every way to keep you from ruining your ride. A lot of, “Oh Shit! I left my shoes at home.” and, “Well, kids I left my water in the car, I guess I better turn around at the shortcut.” These phrases are necessary to keep them off your back. Even though you in fact are going to ride the whole damn trail with every pedal stroke of pain.

This is how, if you follow the plan correctly, it should look.

In closing, I would recommend that you don’t take your own camera on such an effort like this one, so it is necessary to steal the photos from someone else just like I have done here. I also suggest giving credit where credit is due. All photos were “borrowed” from Fixie Dave. If you would like to see more of him, go here.

If you have any questions, please hesitate to ask.

As a reminder, we will be doing another night ride this Wednesday at 9 pm. Meet at the Navajo trailhead. We will do some sort of conglomeration of Stucki and the Poppy trail with connectors added as needed.

P. L. and R.

So we picked him up at his house. We found him almost ready to go. This meant that the Mooseknucklermobile was late for a Mooseknuckler Ride. All was well with the Universe and we arrived just a few minutes behind schedule to find Scarf and the Sherm waiting.

The wind was fucking howling.

If any of you remember the original definition of a Mooseknuckler from the MCA Manifesto, it had something to do with riding in all conditions, rain, snow or wind. (And can be found here, I have to admit it brought a little smile to my evil face to find that) What this means is that there was no way we weren’t going riding, even though it looked as if it would probably be a good idea to not.

As we headed out and toward Church Rocks, I tried with all of my mental strength to enjoy the kickin’ tailwind and to not think about how bad it was going to suck on the way back.

It was a hoot. Fast, dark, loose and awesome.

About 2/3 of the way to the Rocks, the wind kind of died. We chalked it up to being in a hole where the wind couldn’t reach thanks to the cliffs around us.

We finished our little ride around the rocks and headed back to the car. All of us were waiting for the wind to hit us like a cement truck and when it didn’t we all kept our mouths shut in fear that once anyone said the word it would arrive. Thank the giant lobster in the sky that it did not.

That’s right. We got a kick ass tailwind for the ride out and then ended up not having to pay for it.

Anyways, good times were had by all. If you missed the ride, don’t fret it will all be happening again next week.

Now to finish my PBR.

Out.