It was a long time ago. The glossy photos accompanied by the words of Ferrentino and Felton inspired me through many adolescent daydreams and were the motivation for staying in the cycling industry at the turn of the century. The style the magazine possessed  and these two writers embodied for me was part of what defined the sport. There was always adventure and good writing involved that kept me waiting for the next rag to show up in my mailbox.

But as all good things must come to an end, so did the quality of Bike. 

As one who must read on a regular basis, I fell in love with Dirt Rag. Their grass roots take on the industry and push for simplicity and all riding styles, even those considered to be fringe elements of the industry intrigued me for many years. There was always something fresh which had a lot to do with their use of constantly rotating contributors.

I stopped subscribing to any magazines a few years ago due to the lack of funds while attending college. It was either the rags or beer, I think I chose wisely. Of course, I would grab one on occasion and enjoy some glossy photos and inspiring words at the grocery store magazine rack.

This past 25 Hours in Frog Hollow saw me being given a “Gift Subscription” to Dirt Rag. I’m not gonna lie to you, I was ecstatic. A free year’s worth of reading material, for free. Yea, I’m in. Then I received my first issue. Things had changed a bit. Sure the general platform was the same, but the grammar and spelling errors were atrocious.

The last issue that popped mysteriously into my mailbox, had a review on “Tuner” bikes. When I read the giant letters scrawled across the page it caught me off guard as I was not aware of Tuner bikes. I proceeded to read the review only to realize after the first paragraph that this was not a new bike company but rather a typographical error. The review was for a Turner DHR.

After finishing the last issue, I was tempted to read it again with a red pen and then return it to Dirt Rag in hopes of helping them improve. (As a side note, I am about half way through the latest issue and things are much better. Even if the word handling doesn’t exist in the Dirt Rag lexicon.)

It was the National Bicycle Dealers Association’s newsletter where I read that it takes at least three years of wrenching for a bicycle mechanic to be efficient enough to break even on his wage and at least five years to make a profit. I think any service manager in the industry could nod their head in agreement to those numbers. However, if you look at many shop’s service staff, there is a traditional “Head Mechanic” who knows his shit and has been around the block a few times.

And then there is the rest of the staff, usually high school kids who are stoked on cycling but couldn’t tell you the difference between a freehub and a freewheel if their lives depended on it. Excitement and passion are only going to get you so far.

Within this under staff there is usually one or two highlights that get it and stick around long enough to procure the requisite experience to ensure they can fix a bike. About this time, they graduate from high school and move on. And the cycle begins again.

What’s my point? This industry needs some professionals. We can’t continue to expect people to pass up better paying jobs and better benefits simply because they love the sport. The mediocrity of much of the industry is a direct result of the shedding of professionals who just can’t continue to make peanuts. About the time that they are profitable, they will be offered something better and they move on.

Whether it be magazines, shops or bike brands, as an industry it is time to stop screwing around and time to start building a place where people who are passionate about the sport can continue to make a real wage. Where good writers and good wrenches aren’t forced to pick between being able to afford to live and doing what they love.

Yes, I think it is possible, but even more importantly, I believe it is a prerequisite for survival.

I worked for a shop called Sunrise. The owner of said shop explained that he had chosen that name for a couple of reasons. A) He liked the idea of a beginning. Cycling held a deeper meaning to him than just pedaling to race and he wanted his shop to be an emblem of that. And 2) It was the only shop on the East side of Main Street.

The Spanish word for sunrise is Amanecer. Like all cross language meanings, amanecer has a few. In Chile, where I learned the brown man’s tongue, it was often used in terms of partying. To say, “Amanecimos ayer” meant you partied all night and didn’t stop until the sun came up. This was often used as a way to judge a party. If it didn’t amanecer, it wasn’t worth attending.

The meaning that I was always fascinated by (yes, I am fascinated by word meanings and the nuances that are used through colloquial speech) was the use for an “awakening.” Not that waking up is that cool, but when that meaning is tied to the sunrise it takes on a bit of a different hue. The Sunrise is an Awakening, a break from the day before. A new way of looking at things, an “amanecer.”

Many people like to take the arbitrarily assigned date for the New Year and look back on what was and look forward to their new beginning. I prefer to wait until February or March. For starters, there is no way I am getting up January 1st to go for a jog. It just isn’t going to happen. I don’t like to set myself up for failure. So I wait until the weather has warmed a bit before looking back. It tends to give me a bit more of a happy lookout on life. And if I decide changes are in order it gives those changes more of a chance to succeed. Plus I don’t like arbitrarily assigned dates that I am supposed to live by. If someone is going to arbitrarily assign something to my life, it will be me.

About this time last year, I was in one of the worst funks I think I’ve ever been in. I guess you could call it depression but I think that may be a bit strong of a word. It was a funk, a rut. Nothing I was doing seemed like a good idea and nothing I could do seemed any better. I tried making some changes, they didn’t help until…

I traded a set of wheels that had hung on a road bike in my shed for about 9 months for the crazy blue bike. And then I rode the thing. It brought me right out of the funk as quick as a month of commuting can. I then spent most of the rest of the year cleaning up my messes that I had made for the few months before that.

This past Monday was a stark realization that the demons I have buried under years of alcohol consumption aren’t buried very well. A simple photograph or a memory can bring them raging to the surface and propel me deep into the spaces in between. This past Monday was also a reminder of how important riding my bike is for my mental health. A simple 26 mile ride can bring me back quicker than anything else.

And I guess that is what it is all about, riding. A simple realization that forward motion propelled by one’s own power can be an awakening…

P. L. and R.

Amaneced!

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.

I also tend to not ride bikes but tuck myself in front of the fireplace and read/watch anything I can find about revolutions. About the line in the sand and what happens when it is crossed.

Here’s a few I recommend for these wintery months.

A Peace to end all Peace

A People’s Tragedy

That should keep you busy for about 6 months. I’ll see you then and we will all go for a bike ride.

Out.

Time for work.

I mentioned this idea to the Alliance audience a while back. And then left it alone. There has been a dividing force here that I have decided should be lanced and left to fester on its own. That is my political thoughts, arguments and ideas. For many it is much too extreme to have anything to do with the Alliance because I happen to be an Anarchist.

I also hope to bring cycling to everyone so for the past few little-whiles, I have kept my political rantings out of the blogosphere of the Alliance. In hopes that we may enjoy an increase of visitors and hence, people out riding their bikes. In many ways it has worked. Unfortunately it has left me with an inkling of an in-grown hair that needs to be let out.

With the idea of letting out my wild hair, I have started yet another blog, votingforyou.blogspot.com. I have invited certain individuals to participate, aka rant and post on said blog. The fact of the matter is that there are people who are smarter, wittier and more educated than I am. Recognizing those weaknesses in myself, I have carefully chosen masked individuals to let off some steam as part of my presidential campaign.

Most notably is my little sis, who will tell you that I may have had some influence in her life. But then you realize that not only did she get a scholarship to a law school, she chose to attend and at some point will make money. This tells you two things 1. she is way smarter than I am and 2. doesn’t necessarily see things the same way that I do.

Voting for you, is exactly that. I would vote for you but you happen to be a moron, so I will vote for me. I don’t expect you to think that I am not a moron, so I also don’t expect you to vote for me. I have met few men that could responsibly govern themselves and no man that could govern other men (someone else said that first, I just don’t know who or where. They may have also said it a little bit differently). To that end I will do everything I can so that each and every individual may govern themselves. To that end, please Vote for You!

I hope that the lack of political ranting has made the Alliance experience better for many of you. For those of you who miss my extreme left wing ideology, you now know where to go.

Peace. Love. and Revolution.

Let me take two steps back, one to the side and another forward and attempt to express how disgusted I am with media. How can any democratic society, any person with any semblance of the idea of equality ever watch, worry about, or wake up at 1:30 in the fucking morning to witness live, the marriage of a defunct prince and his bride? Who cares? Didn’t we fight a dozen wars, didn’t a lot of people die so we wouldn’t have to be subject to such bull shit and unwarranted pompous wonderment? And what, every damn outlet for news is covering it like it was the next social revolution.

Hey news people, could you please try and find something interesting to report on instead of some dumb-ass wedding? Thanks…

WTF.

Disgusted.

Out.

I hope this is a wake up call to those of you who still believe that the Republicans are a working class organization or to those of you who vote for them because you think the government should tell us what birth control methods we can use and when and with whom we can have sex. You are voting to eliminate the benefits that have amassed over the last century thanks to labor unions. These bills could set work place conditions and workers’ benefits back a century. That’s what I’ve always looked forward to, working in a sweat shop.

“Democrats and unions see the measure as an attack on workers’ rights and an attempt to cripple union support for Democrats. Union leaders say they would make pension and health care concessions if they can keep their bargaining rights, but Walker has refused to compromise.”

http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2011/02/25/business/AP-US-Wisconsin-Budget-Unions.html?_r=1&hp

If you think this is about making sure budgets are met, it isn’t. Walker has consistently said that he will accept no compromise that doesn’t limit the unions collective bargaining rights. This is about the workers’ right to organize themselves and uses the power of numbers against the power of wealth.

As the Great American Hero, Utah Phillips said,

“The state can’t give you freedom, and the state can’t take it away. You’re born with it, like your eyes, like your ears. Freedom is something you assume, then you wait for someone to try to take it away. The degree to which you resist is the degree to which you are free…”

I hope we are truly free and any legislation that is passed to strip us of our rights, we simply ignore. And then fight like hell when the come for us.

Wisconsin is not the only state with this type of bill in the works.

http://www.google.com/search?sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8&q=union+protests#q=union+protests&um=1&ie=UTF-8&tbo=u&tbs=nws:1&source=og&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wn&bav=on.1,or.&fp=4108eed1f2742a34

P. L. and R.

Workers of the World

I’ve been digging Street Dogs for the past bit, but this song in particular.

I just raises the question of what we are really willing to give…

http://www.iraqbodycount.org/database/

http://www.medialens.org/alerts/07/071003_iraq_body_count.php

http://www.antiwar.com/casualties/

http://projects.washingtonpost.com/fallen/