Wildlife Helmet Testing

This video is already making the rounds, but worth the post. If you haven't seen it, give it a whirl. Pretty amazing...

Helmets are a Good Thing

Racer Boy Ian took a nice fall yesterday afternoon, riding with our neighbors in the local woods. He crashed in the infamous "Gravity Pit" and rang his bell pretty good. Hit his head hard enough to "see white" for a few seconds, followed by ringing in the ears and a slight headache. All signs of a minor concussion, along with a slightly cracked and dented helmet. Ouch.

Mountain biking and even biking in general has its risks, like any sport. With the speeds Ian now carries through the woods, I knew eventually he'd experience a real crash. Sure, he's had plenty of slower speed falls, but nothing really hard, even after zillions of rides and races under his belt. I realize it's all part of the game and he really does seem to enjoy riding and racing. Ian is a not a "crasher", he rarely even falls. But eventually, we all get bitten playing on two wheels, and it's usually not a big deal. We hope.

Of course, it's concerning to hear your 12 year old son banged his head pretty hard, no matter what the cause. Luckily, these kind of events seem to happen far and few between. Ian has ridden literally hundreds of hours with just a few bumps and bruises along the way, until yesterday. Yesterday was his turn to get bitten.

There's risk to many sports, but I think the benefits usually outweigh the risk. He's experienced many hours of fun, being outside, competing, learning life lessons, and gaining great childhood memories via bicycling. I hope so anyway. And for me, fantastic father/son time. I often ask him if he's enjoying riding and racing, or feels pressured to ride in any way. The answer is always that he enjoys it. If he didn't, I wouldn't push the issue at all. It would be time for something else.

Being a parent is hard at times. You want to keep your kids safe, but not in a plastic wrapped bubble. Kids get banged up playing soccer, football, on the playground, or a long list of other activities. Kids are not designed to sit still and stay indoors. They need air, adventure, and physical activity. As do adults, even if many seem to forget that fact. Yes, I'm mentally justifying the risk. I guess that's part of being a parent. Nobody likes to see their kid get hurt.

When Ian woke up this morning, he still had a very slight headache. Checked with on-call Doc, said he should be fine. There's a cyclocross race tomorrow, Doc said if the headache is gone - should be okay. We'll play it by ear tomorrow. No pressure, tons of races ahead for Ian. Of course, he wants to race. We'll see.

We did go out today and buy a new helmet. Helmets certainly are a good thing. Yesterday was an important reminder of that fact.

Ride safe...

Impressive 'Cross Crash

Scary 'cross action from StarCrossed last Saturday. Yikes. Yeah, he was okay. Ouch.

I've attended this race a few years in a row as a spectator, though skipped this year - great event.

Ian and I did race this course the following Sunday. No spectacular crashes for us, though still painful - as 'cross tends to be...

Starts Good - Ends Bad

Took a few days off last week, bit of a "Staycation" to spend time with the family and just generally not be at work - always a good thing. As expected, did some mountain biking, various rides - solo, with son Ian, hit the "Old Guy Ride" once, and one full family ride...

Family ride location was Iron Horse State Park, outside of North Bend, that includes a gravel rail trail. Trail extends all the way to Idaho, our plan was a bit less adventurous - just cruise a bit to match the speed and interest of wife Lori and seven year old daughter Amy.

Racer Boy Ian complained the ride would be too slow, but once the wheels hit the trail, he acted as the ride leader and matched the slow pace. Ian and I have ridden here before, when he was younger, so he was familiar with the route.

The female half of the clan enjoyed the ride, though it all ended a trip to the ER - more on that later...



The John Wayne Pioneer Trail runs through Iron Horse State Park and continues through Washington into Idaho. Basically all flat and hard packed gravel. Mountain and cyclocross bikes work best. The trail parallels I-90 for quite a bit, though far enough way to feel like a remote ride through the woods. Farther down the trail is a two mile long tunnel, lights required for that adventure. Not on the agenda for the day, just a cruise with many stops to look around.

One for the old school Bridgestone fans; wife Lori's almost mint 1991 MB-3. Cool old bike and perfect for gravel trail running.

The Sette Razzo 29er takes a breather. I've been riding this bike for over a year now and still dig it. The 29er hardtail matches my old school XC riding style. The SRAM drivetrain is holding up well, as are the wheels. Tires are ready to be replaced, rear is pretty worn. I'll probably use the Kenda Small Block 8 tires again, they work better then expected everywhere, considering intended for hard pack use. I've gone though one set of Avid brake pads so far, and my only slight complaint - brake squeal at times. I plan to replace the semi-metallic pads for organic soon, to see if that cures it. Otherwise, the Razzo rocks and is a complete killer deal.

Trestle stop requires tossing large rocks into the water below. Ian demonstrates.

Trail side scenery.

Ragnar appears to have been a stop when the railroad was active. Now just notes an empty field with a few piles of scrap wood. Book your stay soon...

Rattlesnake Lake sits next to Iron Horse State Park. Very scenic stop for swimming and fishing.

Another view of Rattlesnake Lake. We're lucky to live in such a scenic part of the country.

After a four mile super easy cruise on the trail, we stopped at Rattlesnake Lake to goof around a bit. Warm weather, sun was setting, kids splashed around a bit. A nice family day out. Plan was to head to Mazama the following day to get away for awhile, wife confirming our reservations via cell phone while the kids waded around in the lake. That all was about to change...

Kids dried their feet off and we mounted our bikes for the ride through the parking lots back to the car - maybe 300 yards away. On the slight uphill into the parking lot, car in sight, daughter Amy stalls - then tips over at a standstill - onto her outstretched arm. Ouch, but looked like nothing serious, just a simple fall over. The ensuing crying said otherwise, she said her elbow really hurt. I honestly thought she was just upset and not really injured. I loaded up the car, crying daughter included, then we all headed home.

While eating a very late dinner home, she said it was still hurting. Better get it checked - Lori drove her over to the ER for an x-ray. They arrive home a few hours later with a temporary cast, hairline fracture in the elbow area. Yikes. I was shocked, thought for sure they'd come back with a report of a bruised arm. Not to be, as were our vacation plans.

I felt terrible, even though this was just a goofy slow speed tip over. Second time in a few weeks with someone riding with our group getting injured. This time my little daughter and as most parents know, having something happen to your kids is tough. I'd trade breaking both my elbows in exchange if possible. All part of growing up though, these things happen.

Luckily, with the temporary cast place, no pain and also sleeping fine. She's been a good sport about it. The real cast to be fitted in a few days. Amy said to make sure they have pink casts available. Wacky enough, the orthopedic doctor scheduled to fit the cast also races bikes. The wheels continue to turn. Everybody will ride once again.

Painful Weekend - Yet Fun?

Plenty of mountain bike action this weekend - dare I say - maybe a tad too much. Nah, that's almost impossible...

Saturday, Ian and I headed out with two of his schoolmates, Kellen and Austin. Nice kids, nice families. We've never ridden together, but we've talked about it a few times, now it was a go. Kellen's dad, Tate, also joined in for the ride. Austin had his mom drop him off for the festivities. His dad was interested as well, but had other commitments.

Added to the gang was old mountain bike pal Tony. Been years since we've ridden together, Tony now with a new Kona and a renewed interest in hitting the trails.

Our neighborhood trails of St Ed/Big Finn Hill the place to cruise, we all left from my driveway, just a mile buzz on pavement before singletrack awaits. Kellen and Austin have a little singletrack experience, but don't hit trails often. Ian plays ride leader with Kellen right behind him. Austin ahead of me - he's doing fine - I yell out the occasional advice and encouragement. Tate is rocking the 700c hybrid bike without a problem, and Tony gets a few more miles on the new Kona.

All is rolling swimmingly, as they say at the country club, when Austin grabs too much front brake on a short downhill. I watch helplessly as he endos hard into ground right in front of me. I'm off my bike and by his side in a seconds. He's not getting up too quick...

After sitting him up and catching his breath, we check for damage. Slight cut on his mouth, no big deal there - however - said his wrist hurt. A lot. Gut tells me broken wrist, though hoped I was wrong. Said he can't ride with the hurt wrist. Time for Plan B.

Cell phone call to his mom to pick him up nearby. Short walk out of the woods, me pushing both bikes. Understanding mom loads him into SUV for doctor visit. Phone call later confirmed fractured wrist. Ouch. Four to six weeks in a cast. Perfect summer accessory.

Ride was very tame and suited to the slowest rider. I'm always super cautious riding with kids, especially newer riders. Still, I felt bad about the situation. First time I've had someone hurt riding with Ian and I, as a group. We're still talking about riding a bicycle on trails, so there is some element of risk. Stuff is eventually going to happen. Feel bad it occurred on my call.

I saw both parents later that night to return Austin's cell phone. No guilt required. Austin mentioned having a good time up until the crash. He was busy showing off his cast to the neighborhood, as 12 year old boys are apt to do. Once healed, I'd like to ride with him again - assuming he'd want to. Austin's dad is Ian's basketball coach, so I'll see him again once school starts. As mentioned, very nice family. First time I take their kid out, send him home with a broken wrist. Yikes.

Kellen rolls one of the jumps at Big Finn Hill. He and his dad appeared to have a fun afternoon. After the ride - and getting Austin off to the doctor after the, uh, mishap - we rode our bikes over to the local pizza place on the way home. A shared pizza was a great way to end the ride.

Austin in action, prior to the wrist tweaking endo. I really enjoy getting people out there, especially kids. I hope to ride with Austin again.

Ian plays ride leader. For 12 years old, already has a lot of riding and racing experience. When we take out "regular" kids, gives him some leadership experience, as well as shining a bit skill wise. All good life experiences.

After the Saturday morning ride, Ian wound up playing and riding around with friends all afternoon. By the end of the day, clocked 20+ miles on his speedo. In addition, didn't hit the sack until midnight. I finally went to bed around 1:00 AM. Not exactly the proper set up for the following day planned activity - mountain bike race at Lake Padden in Bellingham. Wife and daughter Amy even planned to trek up there with us. I preloaded the car, including rearranging the roof rack to fit four bikes.

Alarm goes off way too early on Sunday morning, snooze button being my best friend. Soon, human alarm named Ian is standing bedside, asking if we're going. Huh, yawn - yeah, let's roll. Female half of the clan elect to skip the race at the last minute, giving me the opportunity to unload/reload the roof rack of bikes once again. Much joy and fun.

Finally, Ian and I are off. Event being about a 90 minute drive up north. The Padden Mountain Pedal is a Northwest classic, running close to 20 years now. Held at the Lake Padden Recreation Area, right outside Bellingham, Washington. Nice race site with lake, grassy areas, playground - and more importantly - killer singletrack. Course has short steep climbs, along with fairly sketchy root filled descents. All covered with slippery dust. It's a real XC course - no doubt.

While signing Ian up for the Boys Beginner 11-14 class, I decide to sign on for Beginner Men 45+ class. Both classes scheduled for three laps on the short course. When I race (rarely now), I usually get my ass kicked in the Sport class, so no real shame racing the Beginner class for a change. As I've joked before, I have the racer mentality, but not the ability - so little chance of me grabbing a winning slot anyway.

Since the Beginner classes run together, thought it would be fun to see Ian out on the course at the same time. Plus, no waiting around for me later in the day racing Sport. That was the plan anyway. With race numbers pinned on, we hit the course for a pre-ride lap to remind ourselves where the sketchy downhill sections were located. Ian has raced here twice before, though we skipped last year. I raced this event once a few years ago, complete with nice crash that left me off the bike for three weeks. That story for another time.

Our pre-ride of the course takes longer then planned, with me missing my start by a few minutes. Very dumb mistake, first time ever for that. Ian just makes his race start by seconds, while I take off after the 45+ class - now long gone. I yell a quick "Good luck" to Ian as I pedal away.

I settle into the pain that is racing, my slow pace reminding me why I suck at this - yet it's still a gas. None of my "training" really is race oriented. Lots of riding, but no intervals, and I tend to ride not hard enough, or easy enough at times to recover. On top of that, I have no natural ability for this. If ever tested, my aerobic threshold probably would fall somewhere between a potted plant and a shivering Chihuahua. I can picture white coated lab dude telling me, "Frankly, we're amazed you can even propel a bicycle..."

Me, looking pro and going slow. Well, more like sorta pro and going really slow.

The course has no long climbs, but the few steep sections add up - two of 'em require pushing - at least for me. Tight, twisty, uphill singletrack, complete with rocks 'n' roots. I'm also riding the downhills like a total squid, carrying my bike and running (more like sliding) down the tricky sections. On the last lap, I finally ride everything, minus one section - a small, but lame victory. On a play ride, I could easily clean these sections. Bombing 'em at race speeds, heart rate cranked, changes the picture entirely.

Three laps completed, I cross the finish line. Only five racers in Beginner 45+, with me coming 5th, and a long way back to boot. My few minute late start really didn't effect anything. An all around lame race for me, when you look at the results. Even so, I still feel a sense of satisfaction after finishing. Only racing will force you to push yourself to that pain level. The encouragement from fellow racers, along with the smattering of spectators is always super cool.

From my completely crappy result - in the Beginner class for crying out loud - I should hang my head in shame and maybe take up knitting. Instead, I vow to race again and return to my usual back of the pack Sport class finish. Yes, I guess I'm sick. I also look at this way - how many 50 year old guys are racing mountain bikes? Compared to the general population, can't be many. For just plain having fun, pushing yourself, health benefits, being part of the scene, and getting outside - can't be beat - no matter what place you come in. That's my take on it anyway.

Shortly after my finish, Ian rolls across the line to much clapping. Kids always score some extra encouragement, and rightfully so. Ian also experienced a tough day, said he was really tired, but glad he raced. I'm sure the busy previous week didn't help him. He's been riding so strong lately, didn't think it would matter much - not the case. Out of five kids in his class, finished in 5th place, way off the back. Like father, like son - for today - his racing future is much brighter then mine.

This is also not one of Ian's favorite courses, even though he once grabbed a third place at this event. Still, a solid ride. Three laps around this course for a 12 year old is still pretty commendable. Plus add in the pre-race lap, some of it fast to catch the start time. I'm proud of him.

Since I raced myself, not many pictures today. Here's one of the Sport classes heading towards their bikes in the LeMans style start. Old mountain bike pal, Art, grabbed 3rd place in the Sport 45+ class, despite not racing for years. He also did it in SPD sandals. The dude has a ton of natural talent. The bastard...

Ian looking a little toasted at the finish. Tough ride, despite the listed results. Not shabby at all for 12 years old, mountain bike racing ain't easy, no matter what the age.

Looking a little better after a few tacos courtesy of onsite food truck. I scored a killer Torta sandwich to refuel myself (burp). Also shared the meal with a few other racers we met - plan to meet for a future ride together. Very cool.

This now concludes the weekend report. Tune in next time for more race, ride, and general tales of suffering and related fun on two wheels. Tacos included.

Oh yeah, forgot to mention. While loading the bikes on the roof rack for the drive home - pegged myself in the forehead with a SPD pedal - resulting with a bloody goose egg. Flat out awesome. Man, racing rocks...

Bike to Work Day - Hit and Run Included

To celebrate Bike to Work Day, I was hit by a truck. For real. To save some typing time, my Facebook post says it all...

Riding home from work today, woman in a pickup truck hits me from behind. Just a few inches from totally taking me out.

Cut on elbow is from the truck itself as it buzzed by. Huge dirt mark washed off before pic taken. Woman turns around looking shocked after hitting me. I make eye contact with a "What the hell look" - and she takes off. I guess she figured since I didn't crash (I almost did), everything is okay. Insane.

She's lucky the light was green 50 yards ahead or I would have caught her. Two cops were also working traffic duty at the light. I pointed her out, but she was already up the road. I didn't catch her plate number, but did call it in. Cop at the scene basically said without a plate number, not much they can do - which I realize.

I can't comprehend how a person can hit a cyclist, pedestrian, another car - or whatever - then just take off. They literally have no moral compass. Quite sad actually.

Just a small scrape, arm is slightly sore - no big deal. But it's like being grazed by a bullet. Injury is minor, but just a few inches away from some serious hurt.

Fairly ironic considering my blog post from yesterday. Still, for all the years and miles I've ridden, my safety record is off the charts; on the good side. Besides bicycles, same story for motorcycles. I'm either damn lucky or pretty good at staying safe.

She hit me on one of the new "Sharrow" lanes in downtown Seattle. Lanes where cars and bikes share the lane and bikes have the right of way. I usually ride in the center of the lane to block people from trying to squeeze by, but let myself drift a bit the left, so she blows past clipping me in the process. Moronic and dangerous.

Stupid mistake I can forgive. Punching the gas and leaving afterwards I cannot. That is world class lame.

I seriously doubt I'll hear anything further about this. I will be back to full on lane blocking for the next trip.

Ride safe...

05/23/11 Update: This morning I received a call from the Seattle Police Department. Apparently the woman returned to the scene a few minutes after I left.

According to the officer, she seemed genuinely sorry. Said she continued to drive away confused as to what happened (maybe because I didn't crash?). She did receive a ticket for "Inattentive Driving" for clipping me. I also have all info needed for insurance, though besides a scrape on the arm, I'm fine. So no action needed there.

So, still a scary situation - but ends on a more positive note.

Duthie Helmet Cam Action

Last Saturday, son Ian and I hit Duthie Mountain Bike Park once again. This time, old riding pal Brian came along for the ride, first visit to Duthie for him. He dug the place - so did Ian and I (again). Super dry, dusty conditions made for some slippery sections. Not much mileage in this park, but looping the trails together or taking multiple runs makes up for that. The trails themselves are fun enough to give 'em a go multiple times. We haven't even messed with the wooden freeride type structures yet, we'll save that for future trips.

As an added bonus to the festivities, Brian brought along his new helmet cam. Video clips courtesy of Brian's bird eye view, since the cam was mounted to his noggin the entire afternoon. That's Ian and I popping into view out front. We based the ride on Ian's pace, but he can rip some sections pretty good for 11 years old.

Hack edit job by me, music by Rush, surprise crash ending by Brian - complete with cam ripped off helmet - he and the camera survived. Enjoy.

Blood on the Trail

Riding home from work today on the good ol' Burke-Gilman Trail, watched a recumbent cyclist take a nice crash. He was up ahead a ways, but I still had a good view of the festivities. Went down quick on its side and slid a bit down the trail.

Recumbent bikes are weird enough to begin with, so interesting - and yeah, slightly humorous - to see one wad up at speed. This one had the whole windshield and huge plastic aero tail piece shtick going on. To put on my wise ass hat, if these contraptions are so aerodynamic and fast, why do I never see one riding faster then 15 mph?

In any case, I caught up to the guy before he even untangled himself from the smoldering wreckage, as did someone else riding in the opposite direction. Pretty big older dude, baffled as to why he crashed - while he examined his bleeding elbow - dripping nicely by this point.

"It just went down on me", "I'm bleeding like a stuck pig" comments as he stood up. I notice blood smears on the yellow plastic tail section. The other cyclist checks his front tire - totally flat - that explains it. Quick loss of air, washed out front end, recumbent and pilot sliding sideways on pavement. Ouch.

We ask if he needs any help, besides the cut elbow - he looks fine. I mention I'm carrying no spare tubes for that wheel size. I think about patching the tube for him, 'cept I'm in a rush to get home for an appointment - running late as is already.

He says he's okay, will call his wife to pick him up. "Are you sure?" "Yeah." The other cyclist asks again, with the same response. He's got it covered.

With that I take off for home, guilt free. I would have patched the tube if needed, just the way I am. Fellow cyclist is a fellow cyclist - even on a recumbent.

I thought about grabbing a few pictures of the carnage, thought that would be rude - so skipped it. How often do you see a crashed, blood stained recumbent?

Hey, admit it - you'd check out the pics if posted....

Ouch - Milk with Pizza?

Yes - that's a brake lever sticking through this poor dude's wrist. No, it's not me. Freak accident and even freakier picture. Click here for even more pictures and full story. Yeah, it's gross - but come on - you know you're gonna look.

I don't know why, but this picture reminds me of something I witnessed years ago. Maybe because that incident featured dirt bikes - the moto variety (indirectly) - and a slit wrist as well.

Let's spin the time machine back to 1979 or so. Things are getting dreamy, Rush is playing in the background.....

Pals and I were riding our dirt motorcycles at the local dirt pit, affectionally known as Mine Hill Pits, even though they were technically located in Kenvil, New Jersey. A few hundred acres of free-for-all fun for dirt motorcycles, Jeeps, skeet shooters and late night teenage parties. The good old days before land access hassles and the threat of lawsuits at every turn.

As was the occasional custom, midway through a day of slinging dirt bikes around, someone went for a pizza run. As a side note, whoever was suckered into the pizza run, usually got screwed money wise as well - since the donated pile of crumbled bills never seemed to match the total. Stupid fun times when everyone in the group was about 18 years old.

When the food arrived and sodas were being distributed - someone being a wise-ass threw Ken's milk container into the weeds as a joke (milk with pizza?). A few other wise-asses ran for it, along with Ken - who promptly tripped running in motocross boots. All pretty funny, until we realized he'd fallen into a pile of broken glass - wrist first.

Ken jumps up saying he cut his wrist - holding it super tight with his other hand. We thought he was kidding, until he removed the vise like grip with his good hand, and blood starts spurting from a huge gash in his wrist - scary amount of blood gushing out. Holy crap.

Someone pulls a t-shirt from somewhere and it's quickly wrapped around the wrist - and it quickly turns bright red. This is long before cell phones and even though Kenvil isn't exactly the Yukon, we're a few miles from help.

Frank, who's brand new Volkswagen Scirocco is handily waiting to roll, is mentioned as the best emergency vehicle. Frank balks at Ken bleeding all over his factory fresh interior, so at this point - Mark, Ken's brother - is about to ride Ken on the back of his dirt bike to the police station, a few miles away. Frank relents and finally gives Ken a ride to the hospital.

I wound up riding Ken's new Husqvarna CR 390 back to his house. Mark being pissed that Ken wanted me to pilot it back home, instead of his own brother. Man, that Husky was nice. The memory is vague, but my bike must have been transported home on someone's trailer. Some of us rode directly to the "Pits" and others used trucks or trailers to haul their bikes there.

Mark and Ken lived in my neighborhood and when I checked in that night, Ken was sporting a full arm cast. Besides cutting his wrist artery, a few ligaments were severed as well. Double ouch.

I always knew milk and pizza don't go together.

Exploding Carbon is Best Shared with a Friend

Track racing is crazy. Tandem track racing is even more loopy. Now add in the exploding carbon wheel....

Wussup Sexy?

What did we do before YouTube? It's winter, it's dark - it's (almost) free entertainment.

Turn up the volume for this little gem of crash action.....

Busted Carbon

No - luckily not a picture of my bike, but one of the many examples of carnage you'll find on the Busted Carbon site - not recommended for the squeamish or worrisome types. Being bit of a gear head and semi-old school, I find the pictures and horror stories of breakage fascinating, especially since carbon fiber is so prevalent nowadays. Even most lower end bikes sport carbon forks. No way a steel fork would have snapped like the carbon example above.

Many of the pics and stories on the site are the result of a serious crash - that doesn't concern me. With impacts like that you're going to be sampling pavement, no matter what your frame is made of. Carbon frame busted in a few pieces, aluminum frame cracked beyond repair, steel frame twisted into a pretzel - who cares - they're done. No frame or fork is indestructible.

What does concern me, as you scroll though the various pictures and stories, are the "just riding along" or low impact scenarios - where the fork, handlebar or other carbon component catastrophically fails - resulting in accompanying x-ray photos for some posted stories. That's scary stuff.

Carbon is the (semi) new wonder material for bikes. When designed and manufactured correctly, incredibly light and strong. There's some amazing things being done with it for sure.

Along with a few old school steel bikes and some aluminum mountain bikes, I also own and ride a carbon road bike. The carbon bike rides fantastic, well enough to make me wonder what a carbon hardtail (mountain bike) would be like (please send money) - so, total retro grouch I'm not. My main mountain bike has carbon handlebars as well, compete with carbon bar ends (call me XC Dork Boy).

Still, when it comes to carbon fiber, probably not a bad idea to check components occasionally to give you a little piece of mind - I hope.

Something to think about the next time you're bombing that 50 mph downhill.

Singletrack Sampling and Exploding HeadShok

Yesterday, I planned to put together a faster paced ride over at the local woods - St. Eds/O Denny Park.  New Guy Kevin emailed to take up my offer for a faster ride, that I mentioned a few weeks ago - so I said sure - and invited a few others who may be interested in such tomfoolery....

Two Wheeled Types,

Sunday 8:00 AM (stupid early) at St Eds for (approx) 2 hour ride.  I’m billing this as the no kids (sorry Ian), limited stopping, fast paced ride.  Get in and get out early, with enough time left in the day for other festivities.

Fast is relative depending on people, fitness, tide levels, fear of crashing, and Elvis sightings.  This will be fast for me (Al Franken) and I’ll crank it a bit.  If my fast is your slow, feel free to snack on a tuna sandwich while enjoying the relaxing ride.  If my fast is your fast, feel free to suffer a bit and have fun.

Email if interested.  Reply to all, since my home address is included.  Vacation day for me on Friday.

Nanu Nanu.

Mork

I'm all for getting my son out there and/or gearing the ride for other semi-newbies, but was looking forward to a faster ride with limited stops.  I snuck out of the house bright and early, no one else awake - and buzzed over to St Eds to meet New Guy Kevin - the only confirmed rider out of the bunch.  We waited until 8:00 AM in case anyone else showed up - no one else arrived.  Maybe all the '70s references in my email scared 'em off.  In any case, they were missing a super nice morning to be outside.

New Guy Kevin and I hit the singletrack and started rolling.  Within 15 minutes or so, Kevin literally hit the singletrack while crashing off a large log pile.  Ouch.  Landed on his hand, bending his fingers back. Double ouch.  It hurt, but he gave it a go for awhile, then bailed on the road to head back to his car.  All part of mountain biking, just the way it goes sometimes.  I'm sure we'll ride again when the hand heals up.

Alone, I took off a semi-race pace (for me) on the empty trails.  Nice to get out early for change.  All was cool until my HeadShok fork started to feel like a deflated pogo stick.  Then the lock out stopped working.  Mr. HeadShok had officially blown his brains out.  Gee, thanks.  This was an eBay special NOS (new old stock) Cannondale frame and fork, so no soup for you - uh, I mean warranty.

Crap-O-Rama.  Under a year old, little miles, all XC oriented, fork goes belly up.  Pretty lame really.  Oh well, I ride the pogo stick home, mentally figuring out how to replace or repair - with as little dough outlay as possible.  Gotta love being the one paycheck family of four.

My initial plan was to get son Ian a NOS (Remember what that means?) or used frame off eBay, then transfer the older, but still cool XTR parts off the Cannondale to his "new" frame - including a '04 Fox Talas fork I've been saving.  That would be a killer set up for 10 year old, no?  Then somehow dad (that be me) would score a new mountain bike.  We both would win and the world would be a happy place. Current economic conditions dictate that idea be filed under "Dream Land".

Time for Plan B.  Those options included replacing the Cannondale HeadShok cartridge.  Considering the stellar record I've experienced and what I've read off the Internet (invented by Al Gore) - no thanks.

Magura also makes, or did at one time, a replacement cartridge.  I'd go for that, 'cause semi-old school me thinks the HeadShok fork design is pretty cool (for XC use) and from what I've read, the Magura replacement works well.  Internet cruising finds no one seems to carry this thing - plus I don't have the special tools needed to pull the HeadShok apart.  Even though a HeadShok lobotomy sounds kind of fun, I'll pass on this.

That leaves headset adapters or replacement to mount a "normal" sized fork in the 1.5" Cannondale headtube.  I will pull the Fox fork out of storage for Cannondale use (sorry Ian).  The Fox fork is cut fairly short, since it previously lived on my Ellsworth Truth, that runs a 4" long headtube.  The Cannondale sports a 4.5" headtube length.  After much Internet cruising and a trip to the local bike shop, decided on a flush mount Cane Creek headset - that I ordered direct from Cane Creek today.  This should do the trick and allow the much nicer Fox fork to work on the Cannondale.  $90 for this project is a little steep, but cheaper then a new bike.  Oh yeah, I'll need a new stem as well - it never ends.

I also need all this complete by the weekend for Indie Series race # 7 in Rosyln.  Emergency backup plan would be to dust off the vintage Fat Chance Yo Eddy, complete with rigid fork.  I'd rather go with front suspension.  Sorry, I'm getting old.  I also need to score Ian a longer stem, since his 24" wheel Specialized is getting small for him.

Ian is currently in 3rd place overall for the series and we don't want to miss the last two races.  Fame and fortune await.  Well, at least a medal and sense of accomplishment.  That's cooler then fame and fortune, usually - at least with the fortune we could score new bikes and skip the parts swapping frenzy.

Man, maybe I should just bag all this bike nonsense and take up something cheaper and safer - like stamp collecting or just live for my lawn.

Fat chance on that happening....

Random Crash Stories. Episode # 2

After a lifetime of playing on two wheels, I have quite a few crash stories imprinted in my brain. I spewed a few out in a previous post titled Random Crash Stories. Episode #1. Break out the Band-Aids and popcorn and sit back for Episode #2. Here’s three more two wheeled mishaps to enjoy and ponder.

Crash # 1.

It’s the mid-seventies, suburban Randolph New Jersey, pal Richard Jones and I around 15 years old. A new apartment complex was being build in the neighborhood. Landscapers conveniently left a huge pile of bark in the middle of a parking lot. Empty parking lot, slight downhill slope, giant pile to jump bikes off. It was the siren call to all local teenage boys, sort of like that flat top mountain in Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

The pile existed for a few days and was molded into a jump with kids heading there after school. A gaggle of kids circling and taking turns getting air off it. All of us on Sting Ray type bikes, some converted to pseudo BMX bikes – mine included. Richard, very experienced with dirt motorcycles, sported a dumpster dived, department store Sting Ray copy – girls frame. Complete beater piece of crap.

Richard goes for the gold on one jump and grabs about four feet of air – huge for that time. Arcs it nicely into endo position and lands on the front wheel – snapping the fork off at the steerer tube – and allowing him to hit the pavement without any interference – on his hands, knees and head. I can still hear the grip less, chrome, ape hanger handlebars skittering across the parking lot. Front wheel bounces off into the distance, fork swinging around it, like some sort of sick art project.

Richard lay crumpled in a heap, gasping for air – wind knocked out of him. A woman driving by stops and asks if he’s okay. Uh, yeah – he’s fine, and she drives off looking concerned. After a few minutes, he’s up and attempting to walk home. Some kid asks “What about your bike?”. “I don’t want it.” It’s instantly stripped for parts. “I get the seat.” “I get the frame.” Kids claiming what’s left of it for their own clapped out bike projects.

I realize Richard can hardly walk, so I sit him on my bike and push him home. We get to his house, bedroom on the lower level, off the garage. He just leans back without bending his knees and falls on his waterbed (Hey, it was the ‘70s, waterbeds were in). I call for his dad and take off for home myself (Hey, it was dinner time).

Discovered later, he was admitted to the hospital. Broken knee, busted wrist and concussion. Had to spend a few days there, since the knee was too swollen for a cast and required multiple drainage attempts with a large needle. Ouch. This followed by a few weeks in a full leg cast and wrist cast as well. Joy.

After 30+ years, this still remains one of the most spectacular bike crashes I’ve witnessed. Thanks Richard.


Crash #2.

Mid ‘80s, fellow bike shop pals Scott Steward, Martin Rapp and I cruising my usual dirt/street loop in Parsippany, New Jersey on our mountain bikes. Its a muddy early spring ride, complete with occasional patches of wet snow. At one point we stop to yak for a bit. Scott, then a manager for Denville Cycles, mentions he has no health insurance. I don’t remember why this topic came up, but you now know who’s gonna get it. Sort of like when an unknown crew member appears on Star Trek.

We continue our ride, then Scott attempts to pass me while simultaneously bunny hopping a large snow bank, while moving at a nice speed. His back wheel clips the snow bank and he endos nicely into the street. I can see the carnage in my peripheral vision, so technically he didn’t pass me. Ha! Scott, an ex-pro BMX racer, then mountain bike racer, and later road and track guy, has more natural riding ability in a peeling scab – then I’ll ever have. He’s a damn good rider, this endo excluded.

After the crash, sitting on the curb assessing the damage – shoulder is toast and scalp wound bleeding semi-profusely – otherwise, nothing super serious. This was the pre-helmet era. I offer to get my car and pick him up. Nah, he’ll ride back, just skip the woods and stay on the road. Martin, not quite as hardcore (nuts?) as Scott and I, looks slightly horrified. We pace line back to my house, Scott riding one handed, blood running down the side of his face and down his neck. Martin at the back, later admitting he hard time hanging on – amazed Scott could move that fast hurt.

We get to my house and I load up Scott’s bike for him – and he drives off. Calls later with the report. Separated shoulder and a few stitches in the head. Ouch. Oh yeah – the no health insurance deal. His dad had to pick up the hospital tab. Double ouch.

Crash #3.

This occurred just a few months ago. I’m driving home from work, stuck in traffic on Lake City Way, it’s dark and raining. Some guy rides by at about 8 mph in the bus lane, on a department store mountain bike, seat 6 inches too low, all dark clothes, parka hood pulled up. I’m thinking that dude is just asking to get hit. Doesn’t take a crystal ball to see what happens next.

Within 10 seconds of thinking the guy was toast, he cuts across a Starbucks parking lot and gets flattened by an SUV pulling into a parking space. It was sort of a slow motion hit, dude remained upright for a second or so, then collapses to the ground. Driver gets out and calmly talks to the guy, now sitting on the ground. I’m thinking SUV guy is going to climb back in and take off.

He doesn’t run and picks the bike off the wet pavement. The rear wheel is bent into a U shape, so was hit fairly hard. SUV guy talks to hurt bike dude some more, then goes into Starbucks to get help - I hope.

I thought about pulling into the lot myself to check it out, but decided against it, since a Starbucks full of customers witnessed the whole thing – probably armed with cell phones, since every human on earth now has one.

The light changed and my traffic crawl continued. Show was over.

Fixie Fun

Received email from an old bike pal in New Jersey – Don Harrower. He used to race Cat 4 in the ‘80s, then had back surgery and couldn’t ride a normal bike for years - then became the hard core recumbent commuter. Ironically, to a Honda car dealership, where he’s been a mechanic for decades.

Over the years his back has healed enough to take the old race bike out occasionally, though kayaking is his main gig now.

We used to ride dirt motorcycles together in the '70s, then bicycles later in the '80s.

Anyway - the email....

"Speaking of cars and bikes, I had a freaky car accident back in October. We were driving in NYC near the West Side Highway, going through a green light when a cyclist blasts into my left front fender landing on my windshield. He said he didn’t notice the red light on his street. He was very lucky, didn’t get hurt or do any damage to his fixed gear road bike. I don’t know how those guys can ride fixed gear bikes in city traffic, but you see them all the time. He did smash my windshield , but I was glad he was okay."

Nice. Nothing like having a little fun with the Fixie Hipsters.

I'm all for people getting on bikes - any kind of bike. However, I always thought riding a fixed gear in traffic is a little loopy - especially with no brakes. I see quite a few Fixes in the Seattle area. Don't get me wrong, some of the bikes are damn cool. Adding a front brake won't make it any less cool - really.

Everybody ride safe out there.