The Other Gourds.

The Gourds.

Playing at the Market

Damn those Clouds!

After spending a few weekends at the beach two summers ago putting a roof on for SJ, I was amazed at the meteorological knowledge of the locals. Living in the bay behind Assateague and taking advantage of the inlet that divides the two, every fisherman passing by on their way back home would yell conditions up to us. "Waves are at 6 ft.".... "Wind at 20 mph coming out of the southwest"...."The clouds say there is somethin' comin'!"
As we raced to get his house in the dry and safe from another fast arriving mid-latitude cyclone, SJ's son would check the radar and respond to numerous detailed questions as we would immediately point our attention to the skies, taking note of the height and type of cloud as all working motions became fluent and purposeful.
Fast forward two years, add a kid and a warp speed schedule of grad classes,and yes, a demanding job, and I have learned to simply look up to know what's coming.
Sometimes I hesitate to turn my head upwards, those beautiful evening skies, feathered with cirrus clouds tell you something. They don't hang around long,..usually dropping and thickening as they fall down a slope of cold air by the morning, eclipsing the view of Orion to the southwest, and the big bucket usually situated directly over the ghetto pad in the opposite direction.....And it's Friday.
Another rainy weekend and I'm still on the injured reserve list. No bike, just long hikes far away from any trail.
It's crazy beautiful in this area as I described it before, but there were new things to be found. A few chain ring marks gave away earlier explorations, but it didn't amount to much. The terrain is navigationally hard, I've got probably 20 hours in it already,...just looking??? Sixty foot outcrops surrounded by boulder fields with small gardens of ferns implanted on top of them, a knob with a big overlook, and scree everywhere. But the trees,...they're just too big to go unnoticed by the guys in green,...too big.
I sat and rehydrated on a boulder at the base of the outcrop in the middle of the downpour. Yes, cirrus gave way to anything nimbus, I chewed a soggy but pleasantly
salty piece of jerky, not thinking of a anything.

I feel another Man Camp coming on!

I hope it is as good as the last few! Always the best time!

Reaching Out for the Last Bit of Sunlight.

Henry

That's my god son Henry. Born and bred in the ADK's. Kinda funny.

Testing Gear.

I don't know what it is about cold rainy weather, it always seems to make me want to sleep. But just like riding a bike, or doing anything else outside on horrific days like we had this past weekend, once you get your foot out the door, your just fine. A quick look into a closet with expensive gear that sees little use and my conscious was getting the best of me.
It takes a bit of work to stay warm on those days,...zipping, unzipping,...hat on, hat off,...jacket wrapped around waste going up and thrown back on for the descents,.. but with a non pressured pace, it was actually pretty comfortable out there.
The hike was really cool, an intricate system of shelves with either scree or tall outcrops for walls and barely seen ramps of deep green moss that secretly take you up or down a level. But then there were some steep Virginia like gullies cutting straight through the contours and down the mountain. I haven't really see anything like this in Michaux before and combined with the fall colors of orange and yellow, it made for a pretty spectacular site. But then there was a bit of a saddle, sitting right between two knobs of scree and nasty grades on all sides,.. a huge playing field of old (at least older) growth hardwoods with minimal under story, and believe it or not, smooth terrain, softened with a centuries worth of fall foliage. Amazing.
Back at the car, hours later, soak and wet, no matter how expensive the gear. The fire was warmer, the beer tasted better then ever, and shoulders lifted and weightless.

Which way did he go?

Well,..If all the nice people come to the front door, and all hippies enter from the rear (they are nice too), that leaves all redneck roofers (me) to enter through the basement. That's okay with me,...I've got a little bit of Michaux to walk by on my way in.

Feeling Bad for Mom

Friday is always crunch time for Jack and this weekend is no different. Usually I am extremely jealous of what she does for a living but every once in a while,...like this weekend, I'm happy to be the one on parent duty. As Stella and I are making our rounds to the shop, and Granny C's, Jack is out in forty degree rainy weather washing vegetables in cold water. I get home to find here out at the washing station, hands wrapped around a probably now cold mug of tea, conducting every last little bit of heat into her frozen hands. As a cyclist, I am all too familiar with that type of weather, because as rounded as a water droplet's shape can be, a perfectly harmless appearance, I know that at 40 degrees, it will cut through you like a knife.
So she was off to the market this morning at 7 am with just the bare necessities,...the big red truck, to keep her warm and travel through any weather, dairy and CSA pick-ups, and the coffee maker with plenty of Dean's Beans to warm-up the vendors,...cause nobody else is going to be there.

Could it Happen?

Low pressure systems moving up the coast pulling that maritime air off the water. The jet stream meandering south of us allowing that cold, dry, continental air in from the north. Collisions of the masses bringing the warmer, humid, air upward. Adiabatic cooling putting the mountain ridges real close to that magical sub freezing dew point. Could we get snow while the fall colors are peaking?? It could be a first and maybe even a last. I will be watching closely.

Passing Time

Nice

Mom must have taken a walk through the garden with Stella. What a beautiful day to do it.

A Quick Jaunt to the Woods

That front was a teaser. It swept in Friday night, and by Saturday morning, it had a cloud line that kept leading my eye directly towards Green Ridge. They were sitting pretty low, just above the fold. So I checked the temp, then the dew point, and figured Blue Ridge Summit to be just that. A woolie and some warmers and I was on my way.
I was curious to see the colors. The maples and birch seem farther along than any. They look like peppers going from green to bell but there is still plenty of room for ripening. Next weekend maybe? But it’s interesting to see all the microclimates in the forest. The trees seem to hold the heat in and it keeps the lower section living a little longer. The ferns are a bit more mysterious. Most are dying, but there are some random pockets that are still in perfect shape. The crazy thing is, the dead and alive are right next to each other,… same slope, same coverage, and same proximity.
Trails are mint. I’m pretty pleased with how they are coming in after the race. Virginia is a lot faster and I can actually sit and spin, just a little, in that 34x20 (That’s 32x20 to all you 29er people). But I can’t help thinkin’ there are two lines in there that need to be fixed. I never planned for the sudden surprise, loss of mo’ after the first little descent and personally, I’m thinkin’ the turn leading into it is hot and you have no choice but to carve it hard, a turn of the head, a straightening of the outside leg, a drop of a knee, and maybe a little twist,… but then BAM!......... a mo’ stopping obstacle and a steep little section. Same sorta occurence as Larry's, but the surprise around the corner was my fault. It could be better. The other spot I am thinking of must have been due to laziness or exhaustion or both. One small down tree in the way, I avoided it, and you can tell. But the true test is erosion. I’m a firm believer that anything that is a good 34x20 climb, will last. So far it has, but the trails on the South side are still very young. A good spot to watch would be Rattle Dick where it drops to Deer Lick Springs. It’s a good climb and descent and seems to be holding up pretty well, but our equestrian friends haven’t really been on it yet either. Only time will tell, and my time was out.
The day was done. I made it back for some homemade soft pretzels and my favorite Winter Storm.. The Sun was dropping below the horizon and those billowing stratus clouds were scattering the light everywhere like a big neon sign leading my eye straight back towards my vices, and as with all my vices, I returned for more the very next day.

Naysayers

To all the naysayers out there and their comments,....."Aahhhhh, she is so cute!"....."She looks just like her mother!" Well,....to them, I say the proof is in the pudding. View the pic below and tell me who she looks like. C'mon !
Me!.....Me!.....Me! Do you see it now?? Just squint your eyes a bit and stare at it for a while,...you'll get it.

Teaching Bad Habits.

Pretty Hilarious.

I wake up, take a shower, make my coffee, turn on the computer to check out the news and the local scene, and notice the MBM's Blog has a Dean's Bean bumper sticker on the back of an old white van, and I think,...wow, that looks like our van,.....with our bumper stickers,......that is our van, with our bumper stickers! I guess I posted to the wrong Blog? How often does that happen? They didn't seem to receptive to the suggestion so I removed the post.
It's good coffee. I went from Starbucks Sumatra to some of their dark roasted stuff and I was sold! If you feel like it, give it a try! Or just stop by the market. Get yourself a cup at our stand, listen to some good music, browse the local vendors and compost the cup when you are done.

A Happy Day!

What a great day, complete with sunshine and everything. I had the idea of taking my typical two hour ride,...a little Virginia, ...a wholotta' Mackey and let my outta shape legs decide how far I go after that. I had pretty much unlimited time.
But it's just amazing , how on those few occasions, when I can't make the Cupcake rides, I can still manage to hookup with people,.....even in Southy. A quick trip down through Virginia, including "Frank's Line" finally, and I am making yet another attempt to clean Mackey. Well, there is one more obstacle in there now, and the trail has just gotten a bit harder. Four dabs later, I run into a bunch of old friends. I give my buddy Mclean a long hug, another hug, a kiss, a hug, and he slaps one on me as well. Sound like a familiar cowboy movie?? What a great guy. We learned, taught, commuted, and partied together for years. But then their was Colgiano as well, Shiny Colgan, a Cupcake that I haven't seen in the woods for a long time, and although he wasn't trying to clean everything out there, you could see, he had a little time on his hands and was going to use every last bit of it. Stas,.....he was hilarious, I didn't get a hello, just a good cussing out about all the rocks and a pointed finger slightly down slope to smoother terrain. Yes,...Just like I blame Pedro for every flare-up I have, everybody else blames me for Mackey,..I think I can live with that Tito.
Well, we part ways but Shiny's got a few extra minutes he needs to use up. He hasn't seen Virginia before so I take him back through. And you know what he likes the most??...The view, the people, and the unweighted place it takes him. But that's all the time he has. He takes off and that leaves me at the entrance of Mackey once again.
Another 4 dab lap through and I end up on the tail end of the old legends. Seems they were back to try and find the loop again. I rode the typical stuff. Rattle Dick, SW, RD Chute, and last but not least Sucker Punch. Its always fun ending like that,...high speed flow down to the bottom, coming out at the yellow gate, turn around and everybody is smiling. A quick tap of the fists, goodbyes, and a nice long spin back up to the car, four hours later, totally and completely bonked. I got home just in time for a nap with Stella. A perfect day.

Helping Out.

We had a good day. Stella had a really fun time playing with Jacob and Evelyn at the market. They were down on the dock, stomping in water puddles, playing peekaboo, and without any warning at all, stage diving off the edge, some 4 feet from the ground. She even managed to make it past lunch time without the inevitable temper tantrums of a tired kid. That gave us some family time at Salsa Rita's for a chicken taco and then home for a nap.
Mom joins Stella and I get the "itch" as some mouse refers to it. So, off to the mountains for a quick jaunt. Back to the purpose of the post, Stella is turning into a great helper and it makes for more good family time. She organized and helped carry all of the Trickling Spring returnables, combined veggies into a single cooler, and helped mom pick some fresh raspberries. Dad meanwhile, did what dad's do. He had a few Loose Cannons, snapped a few pics, and picked up anything too heavy for Stella.

How People Handle Pain and the Spirit of MTBer's

So,...you see that guy right there???......Yeah that one,.......the one in the middle. What an interesting character, ......yeah that Ray Adams guy. You see,... he came to the Terror of Teaberry,.....and well,.... he didn't do too well,.... at least not according to the results. You see,... I got this call in the middle of the race, like I always do, to pick up someone, somewhere, for some common reason, whether it be a broken bike, a lightweight tire that was ripped to shreds, or the worst case scenario, an injury. This time, it was for someone who took a fall and injured a wrist. Now thinkin' it was Harlan, who damaged his wrist in the summer race, I was really lookin' forward to a long ride back and the passively aggressive lecture on how the trails were great but should not be included in on a race,....Martin shares this opinion,..... we'll just have to agree to disagree. To my surprise, I didn't find the IF clown suit upon arrival, but what I did find was a VisitPa rider, sitting on the ground, with a contrasting wavy forearm attempting to parallel a bumper of an overly sympathetic radio man's SUV. Okay, so what?. Well I pick up Ray, the VisitPa guy, after taking a trip to the bushes to supposedly pee, but to actually keep from passing out from the image of bent and broken bones, durably laminated in my head,....and well,.... the EMT has got Ray's arm rapped and immobilized. So I eventually join my friend in Pennsylvania in the big red truck,.....and well,... Ray starts up conversation,....pleasant, positive conversation. He starts by complementing the trails, and as you know, I kinda' appreciate that. But then, the spirit of mountain biking begins. Because,....and I know I shouldn't start a sentence with that word, he begins complementing the person he was riding with for the majority of the race.....yeah,.... that guy right there,....the guy to the left in the pic up above. You see,...that's Kyle. He's one of those Harrisonburg boys. You know them,....... he's one of those crazy, skilled, intelligent, outgoing, Mo' Fo's that put on the infamous Tour de' Burg,.....a tour I completed for six years in a row, hence the reason for the big compliments. As the story goes, through all his pain, Ray was talking about how impressed he was with Kyle dropping him in the rocks and how brilliantly he rode through the infamous Mackey. But then there is more....
You see, when I get back to the lot, I've got to tell the story, once again,...like I always do,... and one of the recipients of this story is Kyle,....the guy on the left. Well,....it seems Kyle was also impressed with Ray, and made sure I knew how hard he tried to keep up with the guy with a now wavy wrist. Yes, it seems Ray was kicking Kyle's booty for the first 20 miles. Now maybe,... just maybe,... you start to get it. A few shared beers around the previous night's campfire, the spirit of friendly competition,and you start to realize, it's not so much about your place upon the plywood, but maybe, just maybe, it's the shared fascination with the fluidity of motion through some of the hardest fucking trails out there. It doesn't matter whether you are the first two people to experience Pedro, the drunkin' finish chute guy, or the last. You simply share that common knowledge of motion at a particular place, pace, and time. I'm sorry, I don't really have a concluding comment, sentence, or thought, just another story, of a low key, extremely underrated race. But if you ever joined the cupcakes at one of their campfires, you would know,...as the Mule would say,.....yeah that guy right there,....the guy on the right,..... "It's all good".

Custom Vest Possibilities for the 'Cakes???

Buck sent this around. Seems he stumbled across this thing (.....ah, the vest is what I'm talking about!) at the SSWC in Durango. Cost??.... a mere $160 schmackeroonies. Hmmnn, I'd pay that just to be a member of the Cupcakes. Wouldn't you??
As for paying tribute to the volunteers at all the races,.....me and the Mule.... I'm thinking we should go with an embroidered polo like the one shown here! You get a variety of different cupcake design choices on the right side,...but you also get to "state yo' business" on the left! Let me know, I'll be sure to put a bug in Rich's ear,....he's very receptive to that sort of thing.