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.

Even KB looks like she isn't having fun.

They say attitude is everything. Yesterday I proved that to be true. Mine sucked and so did my ride. After so much time needing to get some dirt on the tires and I finally get a chance to go and I can barely keep my eyes open.

My day started like so many of my days off. I woke up and had to go to work. I spent the morning answering as many questions as we could find to ask about our new POS system. We are up and stumbling. At least we are moving forward. I did my best to only be there for three hours but was there for four.

KB had made me an excellent lunch. Home made pizza, Guatemala (aka guacamole), rice and even saved me a beer. I gobbled down the food like a maniac. I’m pretty sure I would have died if I had gone any longer without food. Then the sleep set in with a vengeance. 

The Mrs. had been waiting all day to get out and ride. So my frowny face and sleep demeanor weren’t going to hold her back. I attempted to pull my shit together. I got the bikes ready, pulled on a chamois and loaded the car. We headed over to the Zen. More than one time on the way to the trailhead, I could feel my eyelids drooping and sleep quickly coming into my future. I pressed on.

Then of course there was the wind. The kind that turns a beautiful day into a not so nice afternoon. Frigid, fierce and gusty. I don’t like to ride in the wind very much. I may be fat, but I’m not fat enough to hold my ground against the wind.

And that folks, is the perfect recipe for Making Cycling Difficult. I think more than anything, if you start with the bad attitude everything else will fall into place. But the ingredients of sleepiness and wind don’t hurt.

In other news, I didn’t ride on Sunday but did get some hiking with the dogs and southern area exploring tucked into my day. I see an overnighter with KB in the near future.

Photo Evidence.

I think that is all for today.

I now get to go work on my day off.

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.

You may recall past Making Cycling Difficult posts about this particular area. I’m not sure what the draw is, but when the weather gets wet and cold I feel this desire to ride the sand.

It’s either a desire or my stupidity in forgetting that even when sand is wet, it is difficult to ride. But sometimes the point is to make it difficult, and this was one of those times.

I’ve attempted to make it up the Mill Creek road/trail to the wilderness boundary many a time. I’ve always turned around after about 20-30 minutes because I am a big pussy. And there are few things that can top the frustration of riding in sand.

I was determined. I had the time. I had the idea. So I did it. I pedaled, pushed, dragged, slid, and hiked my way to the boundary.

It was pretty awesome, as you can see from the photo, but it didn’t quench my thirst. Now that I’ve made it to the boundary, I want to hike to the ridge. Maybe see what is up Washington Hollow. It is a cool little cove. And no one is there which is more than enough of a reason for me to go back.

Photo evidence.

And for those of you wondering, the sand was actually a lot of fun. Would I want to ride in the sand every day? No, but once I reached the top and was able to turn around and come back down into town it was a blast. I was able to ride almost the entire way back. I swung down into the drops and just did everything I could to keep the rubber side down and the pedals turning. The squirming and washing out added to the excitement. I’ll be back.

Out.

The one above is from a poorly thought out trip from White Pine to Bunch Grass in the snow. The Mighty Green Socks, his uncle and I pushed our bikes up to the top of the climb. Then slid our way down the switch backs into White Pine. After the drop, the snow thinned enough that we could ride fairly well. The stream crossings were quite a bit wider than they usually were and as Green Socks was coming across one of the larger ones, he stalled and then fell over completely soaking himself. Mind you this was about eight miles from the car, we were making super slow progress due to the snow and now we had a soaking wet Brengelman to deal with. What a ride.

The mighty Mooseknuckler Banner that you see at the top of the page is also one of these “old,” “lost” photos. It happens to be from the first SloToJa. Neither myself nor Casey can recall which pass this is on but when we made it we had to take some pictures. My memory doesn’t serve well enough to recall, but this picture may be at the top of the climb that I walked the last mile or so pushing my bike. I rode the tour singlespeed and some of the climbs were a bit long and/or steep.

So what’s the point of the nostalgia? The point is I’ve turned into a great, big pussy. Fat, slow and unmotivated. Hell, I don’t even own a rigid mountain bike any more.

As I have been perusing through these photographs, the desire to “see what is beyond the next turn” has begun to stir within my gut. That desire that we all have to just see if it is possible. Can I turn the crank one more time? Can I do this drop? Why not ride the whole damn thing in the snow, right before sunset? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions, but I think it’s time for me to start asking them again.

For what it’s worth, those are my two cents.

We will be doing a night ride tomorrow. In an effort to drive less than we actually ride, we will be meeting at the Service Center at 7:30 and will ride up to Paradise, do the loop and then return to the service center. I promise to only complain about how retarded the trail is twice. And that was one. If you prefer to drive, you are more than welcome to meet us at the Chuckawala trailhead about 20 minutes later. Remember flashy lights for the road part of the ride.

Now, time to ride into the sunset.

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.
 

On Turkey Genocide Day, meet at the White Trailhead at 10 am. Bring your game face and $1. We will ride the trail. Each rider will count their dabs. At the end of the ride, whoever has the least gets all the one dollar bills… Solid, right?

Be there…

A few pics for your viewing pleasure…

Super D and his cape

How can you be slow when you are a super hero?

The run up in some skin suits

These guys rocked the solo category and wore these suits for the entire race.

Handsome Dave and his lovely wife on the run up

I snapped this pic of the run up without having any context of who was in the picture until I got home. Turns out it was a good shot.

The Berg, is she a ferry or a ninja? No one knows...

Sun down on Smith Mesa

Some of you may remember that Smith Mesa is where the Flying Monkey is, unless you read the recent article in Bike Magazine that incorrectly put it on Grafton Mesa which is not featured in this photo.

Impatient Fire Starter Kim ready to rock!

Kimmy put together our costumes including knitting the Rainbow Bright leg warmers.

The Berg stretching before her lap

The sun set on the mobile party wagon

We weren't the tidiest of campers

We may have not done a lot of laps. We may not have ridden for much of the night. But we did have fun.

Keeping it real since 2003.

Out.