A Parabola of Things to Come

Rainbows and black clouds were an indication that last night's ride might be a bit damp. Skipping to the end of the story, it was as wet as any ride I ever did in the UK. Proper downpour, complete with lightening and thunder. It was a hoot though! The rain may have soaked our group to the bone, but it did nothing to dampen our spirits. I'd forgotten how much fun night riding, even in the rain, could be. The only thing missing was the pub at the end, which are few and far between here in the heart of Mormon country.




Today we had an early morning demo. Seven in the morning, to be exact. It at least gave us a pretty cool sunrise to see, with the early morning light bouncing off the mental clouds hovering around the peaks. Of course, none of the shop guys that called yesterday to make sure we were going to be there at 7 actually showed up. It was cold, and things got worse when the mix of snow and hail occurred. The first person who came to ride didn't get there until 9. Good times on the demo scene. It's all glamour, after all. Ah well. Hanging out in a scenic parking lot in Utah is never really all that bad.


Then there was this little gem from our second demo of the day yesterday:



Guess the park didn't have to pay for that part of the concrete work.

The Goat in the Minivan

So one little tidbit I neglected to mention from yesteryday:

We were JDA (Just Driving Along) when all of a sudden Tori proclaims 'Oh my God, that is a goat.' One glance up revealed what she was talking about. There was a man driving a Ford Windstar minivan with one of those pet keeper things behind the front seats that is meant to keep your pet in the back of the car. It wasn't a dog, or even an alpaca in the back, but a pristine white goat. Yes, a goat.

The man driving the van wasn't some flannel shirt wearing Utah redneck, but rather a man in a shirt and tie. The goat was clean as a whistle, but a bit skittish. As we rolled up next to the van the caprine had a bit of a meltdown and tried to run. It was unfortunately met with the other side of the van which caused it to sort of ricochet back to an upright stance.

I, of course, was without a handy camera to take a picture of this, so we slowed down to let him catch up to us while Dax grabbed my camera from my pack in the back of the car. Unfortunately, the man exited the highway and we were left with trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Some possible theories:

1) The man was on a date. With the goat.
2) It was a sacrificial goat.
3) The man was on his way to a date, and the goat was a present.

Any thoughts?

A side note: Chef Chris Cosentino won the challenge on last nights' "The Next Iron Chef". Way to go Chris!

Utah in the Fall

Brent mixing it up with the aspen trees

Today was a test of that fine line between epic and stupid. Brent, my Utah sales rep and all around ace guy, wanted to show a few of us his favorite trails. Payson Canyon was the location, and the starting elevation was 8000 feet. It rained pretty significantly yesterday, so we headed up the mountain unsure of the trail conditions. We hoped for the best, and unfortunately were met with the worst.

The mud we encountered wasn't simply mud, it was like riding in a cement mixer. The bikes became like rebar for freshly laid concrete foundations. Every once in a while we would come to a section of trail that made us think maybe the worst was behind us. We shed some of the mud from the tires and the bikes, and settled in for what promised to be an ace ride. Then we'd hit another section of the sticky, claggy paste. In the end, we rode for all of about 2.5 hours and covered a whopping 3 miles (maybe?).

We headed back to Brent's house where his wife Valene had made an absolutely stellar pot roast dinner complete with mashed potatoes AND mashed sweet potatoes! Nothing like some delicious stick to your ribs food after a tough day on the bike.

A Sad Day for Mountain Biking

Shred in peace, Richard. Photo courtesy of Dan Barham

Richard Juryn was the kind of guy that you liked the moment you met him. His enthusiasm for life was infections, and he could brighten anyone's day with a simple hello. He was always genuinely glad to see people he knew. He died trying to save the lives of his friends.

His death is a tragic loss to the mountain bike world. I, for one, will miss him a great deal.

My deepest sympathy goes out to Jill and the kids.

Allez cuisine!

My friend Chris Cosentino is competing to be The Next Iron Chef on the Food Network. The first episode in the series was tonight, and he made it into the next round.

Chris is an avid cyclist, particularly of the singlespeed 29er ilk. I mentioned him back in 2005 on the now defunct Fit for Women blog during a visit. At the time, he was the only chef in the world sponsored by Red Bull.

Anyhoo, he's a top guy and I'm very excited for him.

Moving Like A Banana Slug

The internet is about as fast as I was on the bike today. I can now add Santa Cruz to the list of places where I am the slowest person to snap feet into pedals.

I went out for a beautiful ride with my friend Thanita (also of Dirt Rag, and recently-moved resident). We pedaled through town to make a couple of errandy stops along the way, then headed up the hill to the campus of UCSC to hit some trails there. We used the campus trail network to get up to the top of Wilder Ranch, enjoyed the amazing view of the other side of Monterey Bay for a bit, then headed back down into town. We stopped at 99 Bottles for a couple of pints and some Snackey Cakes, then back to the Bontrager house, which is where I now sit after a fresh shower and a bit of chocolate. Total ride time was somewhere between 3-4 hours.

I was just reminded that I went on a bit of shoe shopping frenzy in Vegas. Is four pairs of shoes too much for one day?

Bushwhacking Death March

So, I find myself in Santa Cruz for a week. I was due to be in LA this weekend for a big, multi-day demo with our West Coast demo guy Matt, but the dealer cancelled. They didn't want to pay the permit fee to the park to have us there. Bollox. I was in Lost Wages for Interbike, and had a choice to make. I could either head home and then go back to Salt Lake for next weekend's Breast Cancer Awareness ride, or I could go to Santa Cruz and hang out at Chez Bontrager and do some really good riding to make up for a week off the bike at the tradeshow. Hmm...

I got together with Ferret/Fez/Ferrentino last night and found out that Maurice (of Dirt Rag Mag) was also in town. He mentioned that he might come here after Vegas as well. He was shacking up at Mike's for a night and after an evening out I was invited back to my future place of residence for some more comraderie, with the potential for some whisky drinking. The latter didn't happen since I got there late after gathering up my things and burying my head in the new issue of Decline as soon as I crossed the threshold of the house.

The plan was to get up and have breakfast down at Whale City Bakery, drop a car off and shuttle back up to the house. Mike had planned an outing on trails accessible from the top of the hill where he lives. I've done some of them, but others would be new to me. We'd ride for a bit, ending back at the dropped off car in time for a late lunch.

Riding in Santa Cruz is hard. There is a lot of really steep stuff, and I'm just not confident enough to ride most of it. There is no such thing as a flat ride here. Mike lives in Bonny Doon, which is 15 miles from the center of town up a very, very large hill. 1500 feet of climbing condensed into only 4 miles. You'd think that a ride from there would be all downhill back to where we parked the car, but that is hardly the case.

We set off sometime shortly after 11 and finished at 4:30. I am properly broken. Mike thinks we did at least 2500 feet of climbing over something like 15 miles. It really did feel like it was all uphill until the last big descent to the car. It may not sound like all that much up, but nearly all of it was on this super soft detritus that felt like riding on wet sponges. It was so energy-sucking that even my eyeballs were tired.

On the brightside, I took out one of my new '08 demo bikes. It's a WSD Fuel EX8. It's not the spec I would like, but that's just because I'm a top-end snob. Initially, I thought there was something weird in the front end of the bike. It felt like it was a more slack head angle than previous versions, and it took me a while to adjust to it and steer properly. But I quickly realized that it really excels on what steep stuff I did ride. Gone is that feeling of being too far foward on the bike. The thing is overwhelmingly stable. I'm lovin' it (not McDonalds. Gross.).

Today though, that bike deserved a better rider.

I've just had homemade apple crepes with ice cream for dessert. I deserve it, I did ride my bike today after all.

Thanks to my future housemate for showing us the way (again), and to Maurice for just being cool.