After the Mooseknuckler Monster Truck had returned from Toroweap with only but a few lousy pictures of a beautiful place, it was quickly reloaded and pointed toward another secret location where silence exists, cell coverage does not and where the children lose their girlfriends. Yes, I speak of that mythical place known as _____________ (censored by the CIA so the rest of you don’t end up out there).

We drove for a few hours to get there and then spent the bulk of 48 hours cruising around where the wild things roam. We rocked out about 200 miles on dirt roads over the four days.

And the moment we returned to the house, the first thing I said was, “This place is noisy.” Gotta get back soon….

I didn’t talk about bikes once. Nor did I ride one for four complete days. It was heaven wrapped in the thorny existence of the desert. KB and I will be going back on the 8th for an overnighter in one of the canyons if anyone has the time and the desire…

In completely unrelated news, the next installment of the Mooseknuckler Cup will be taking place this coming Friday… You should definitely be there. It won’t be too cold. Hell, for all I know it may be too hot.

Details here.

I think that is all.

Out.

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.

College Humor Siri Argument from robert haleluk on Vimeo.

If you are offended by foul language, and base humor you may not want to watch this video. But it is pretty damn funny.

If you are into bikes, beer and other such things, you will enjoy Soul Side Down.

Always a good read. Plus he has a Stache that could easily win the annual contest.

P@trick flying the colors

So check it out, and let him know the Mooseknuckler sent you.

Out.

The biggest reason for the change was to be able to easily manage and edit the header image. This also means that those of you who like to take art of the visual, digitally captured type, I will be looking for a new header image on a regular basis. Just saying..

I hope you enjoy…

Speaking of said class, this was supposed to be the first semester when we would have the all elusive Intermediate Mountain Biking class. Unfortunately there weren’t enough students signed up so said class has been canceled in the official sense. In the Mooseknuckler Alliance sense, the class will happen every Thursday at 3 pm leaving from the Service Center. This also means that anyone free at that time is more than welcome to join us. Seeing that we are just a group of people getting together to ride our two-wheeled love machines.

Speaking of love, and if you will allow me to paraphrase Sir Pratt, I spent 4 years of my life so I could be an overeducated blogger. I have also spent lots of time, energy, tears, beers and whatever else trying to keep this little site going and trying to keep our singletrack single. Unfortunately, money is getting tighter and I therefore, must justify this little venture. I know I have promised certain things as admin of the Alliance, such as never having advertising on this site. And I intend to keep that promise. So the short of the long is that I have ordered some stickers. It seemed like the blogger thing to do. There will be 100 at the Mooseknuckler World Headquarters in about two weeks. This first batch I will give away in hopes that they get stuck anywhere and everywhere there is a mooseknuckle not in the closet…The next batch is gonna cost ya.

In other bikeish related news, gas prices are skyrocketing. This is a good thing seeing that it motivates people to ride their bikes instead of transporting themselves in their coffins. I know I about shit a brick this morning when I gassed up. Good thing I got the commuter up and running. Speaking of up and running. It’s time to ride…

Out.

P.S. If you would like some stickers and don’t live in the vecinity of the Mooseknuckler World Headquarters. Contact me and we can arrange a way to get some in your grubby little hands.

Peace. Love. and Revolution.