The fate of most blogs is a sort of heat death, wherein the energy that initially fueled a whole series of wanton diatribes finally runs its coarse and the owner fails to hit 'delete'. Thereafter it drifts -- dark matter of the literary universe, filling the void and reducing relevance metrics on search engines everywhere. So it goes. But not for this guy. Yes, I've been absent for a while, not racing and therefore without a whole hell of a lot to write about here. But there was never any question of not continuing on the mission. The mission is intact. The cause has a new bike. The season starts in a month or so. Training started today...
The Foothills
Tried and succeeded in finding a new section of trail that I'd never ridden before. So, new bike -- meaning a major upgrade in several areas, such as: disc brakes, 2 x 10 setup, full suspension, air shock in the front and the latent satisfaction of having turned the wrench on almost every bolt on it. New everything, everywhere. The only old bits were the pedals, shoes and the rider. The new trail went up, which I thought was a sensible way to test drive a new bike. But it didn't last. In short order I found myself ripping downhill totally unsure of everything, except that I was having fun. The descent was fast and rocky and I was grooving on the fact that simply going over stuff was now a viable option. I do have a habit of threading the needle so my back tire won't hit a rock and buck me off though. This alone almost landed me off trail a few times, or maybe that was the slightly sensitive (ok, downright twitchy) steering. A few words about that are in order...
Spending a miniscule portion of the federal budget on a front fork is a way of looking at it that should take the sting out of it -- somewhat at least. But the reality is that the chump change that I spent (roughly the equivalent to the cost of my current hardtail) makes it hard for me to take a hacksaw to the steering tube. Consequently, I have about 70 mm in spacers raising up my 700 mm handlebars and the net result is that I feel a little far from the action. That, and the width of the handlebars seem to make the bike one of the most reactive I've ridden. First I have to figure out if I want to lower the bars at all. What the hell, maybe I can use the extra space to bolt on a beer holder.
In any case, my jubilation was tempered by two oncoming riders, so I pulled over and waited for them to pass. We exchanged a few words about my new toy. I showed off my new (used) frame, the new components and the fact that I was out for a first ride. Probably they saved my life by slowing me down. Exuberance is always seems like a good thing. Tempered, it becomes survivable even.
I rode on, didn't wreck, got lost, found the very southern end of the trail and got set to ascend on a more familiar and challenging part of the trail. I climbed in the saddle just to see if I could. And I could. And in a sad but really happy way, I find I have some room to grow in my riding -- a.k.a. my equipment exceeds my skills. Hey, it's state of the art... for 2007. But that doesn't change the fact that there are now things I can probably do that I couldn't before. But this rider is going to have to play catch up and learn to take advantage.
Ran into the same two ladies once again after coming out of the first valley headed back north. I stayed ahead of them for a while, but switched to the lower elevation trail before long. I got to the turn-around point and by this time it was starting to snow, but I was feeling better and was looking forward to a bit of downhill on the way back. Nothing like wearing shorts and watching it snow. Feels like... defiance. Shortly thereafter, I passed the two ladies for the final time, once again going in the opposite direction. The thing is, I intentionally avoided ascending the steeper trail because I'm lazy and out of shape. But they hadn't flinched and did it in about the same amount of time despite the harder climb. Had I kept going they way they had, I would have eventually had to let them pass. And I hate being passed -- by anyone.
The snow imparted a magical feel to the ride, ultimately. I left on a spring day and found, up in the foothills, a winter still wanting to play. Can't say I blame it -- everybody loves spring, even the cold-hearted...
Net result
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| My serious look |
