Roller Coaster

My wheels are still awaiting hubs... So I cobbled together a set to get me through these dark times....

Snow. Yesterday it was 65 degrees, sunny and beautiful. Today its snowing. I could not have been more surprised if I had looked out my window this morning and found that a nuclear war had obliterated the world, only to leave me and my house intact.

There is a breakover point on every ride where an excuse is made. Either to go further or to turn back. It is the mark of a great ride to beckon further, to leave you wanting more. To be sure, the most efficient use of this is to ride this decision like the proverbial fencepost. To go just far enough. We never know what lies in wait around those unturned corners, nor exactly what forces encourage or discourage our subconscious. How many rattlesnakes have I avoided? How many crashes and car vs. bike accidents? Impossible to say. I do know that getting a flat tire one hundred meters from the car is about as good as a flat tire gets. To have that tube hold out for 20 miles only to fold up within a brief cool-down to the car is about the best fortune one can hope for when considering the topic of flat tires.

The 36x18 was just about perfect... Blue sky is looking good.

Maybe a 36x18 isn't the best idea.

Wheelset woes..

Still no wheels yet. My shop guy says the hubs haven't come in yet. Which is unfortunate as apparently hubs are important in building wheels. So the Ibis sits unfinished, unridden.
On the bright side, this is an opportunity to get some good training in and spend some quality time with Jenna. I'm pretty sure that once the Ibis is operational, I might be on hiatus from singlespeeding.......
So this will give me the opportunity to set a benchmark for devils backbone with the new Garmin Edge 205... if I can't kick my own ass on the Ibis vs. Jenna.. then maybe my money wasn't very well spent. Stay tuned.

Post-ride musings...

All our pre-riding thoughts are focused on the RIDE itself. The weather report. The surface condition. The singletrack. The climb. Topo maps of the area used to be good enough, now we log into google earth and spin circles in 3D and fly down the trail in advance. We fill camelbaks and mix sports drinks and check off mental pre-ride checklists. We double check the integrity of the bike-roof rack interface multiple times.
And we ride. We sweat and burn and push ourselves into little anaerobic hells for brief glimpses of gravity driven heaven and short respites of beauty. Each pedal stroke takes us further from job and stress and the review that used to be due last week that we got an extension on until tomorrow that we didn't even start yet because we were too busy riding.
But for all that planning we focus so little on what can be considered by some to be the best part.
The End.
That final push into the parking lot/area/trailhead. Those last few revolutions that say to us: That was worth it. An endorphin fueled sense of all-is-well. Knowing that the trail is still there but that we have Accomplished It.
Satisifaction.
With still-burning legs and indelible smiles putting the bike back on the car. Checking the bike-roof rack interface just once. The sound the cooler makes when the ice swishes around inside it. The best tasting beer ever made.

Post-ride at the devil's backbone TH