Good things from Arizona

Its February and those that know me well, know that February brings two things; My birthday and Old Pueblo.  Guess which one I look forward to more? 

This years team consisted of Duane, Curt, Myself and a new addition, Scott. 

24 Hour town seen from the air, we are located in the top right corner.

The course, I have become a fan of the bypass section marked in green. It could be my favorite part of the ride.

Bikes lined up at the start, this is only small portion of the bikes.

Sunrise after a long night of racing. It is always amazing to me that I can be completely partied out but when the sun shows up, I am good to go.

Home sweet home in Duane's lushly appointed, yet not overly ostentatious, tent trailer. I think he bought it just to do this race every year. Due to some slight miscommunication we placed eighth again for the third year in a row, at least we are consistent. If we had our ducks in a row we would have finished sixth, but that matters only to me.

Also in Arizona is the famed Coconino County, located within that county you can find Coconino Cycles and it's proprietor Steve Garro. I have been riding one of Steve's frames since 2009 and have been completely happy. Last year I had a malfunction with the Paragon Sliding dropouts, Steve repaired it but because he is a perfectionist, and consummate professional he was not satisfied with how it turned out. So upon returning home from the 24 HOIP I found my Coconino 2.0 with new Coco-Moto horizontal dropouts to tension the chain.

Behold

Almost twins. Outgoing bike is on the right, note the simpler design of the new dropouts.

New frame all built up with old parts, the new dropouts are awesome. They require about 35 seconds extra to set up but the bolt on hub and lack of moving parts is waaaaay better.

Big props by the way to local superstar Delena for a third place finish in the Women's SS Solo category. You can read all about that here as well as a pretty good food review for the Haji Baba's.

Ripped from that blog

Silver Reef

By now you know that I am a sucker for new trails and cool stuff, I had heard from a friend that they had added some new property and subsequent trails to the Red Cliffs Desert Preserve. The trail head is called White Reef, and starts across the highway from Harrisburg. 

The Silver Reef area was a booming mining area during the late 1800's. It's still the only place in the world where you can find silver veins embedded in sandstone.  The Smithsonian deemed an early sample of the ore, "an interesting fake." Not believing that silver could be found in sandstone. 

During it's heyday Silver Reef boasted a Main street over a mile long, it's own China Town and according to one historian, was the murder capitol of Utah for quite a few years. Despite the number of Mormon settlements in the area the town never had a Mormon Church. 

Due to a drop in silver prices the town began its decline in 1880 but in 1951 Uranium was mined there for a time. 

The old mines are still very visible along the Reef

Behind the bars, looking into a shaft. 

Dead center you see another mine as well as numerous tailing piles from other workings.

Just outside of the populated area I ran across this shaft. It's a terrible picture, I was scared to death that I would drop my phone.  That chasm is about 25 ft across and I am sure goes straight to the center of the earth.

The old Wells Fargo Building is now the museum.

I plan on going back to do some more exploring, as well as reading up on more history. The ride is okay, mostly double track and lots of horse destruction. I am not sure which I despise more, horses or 4-wheelers. 

The Garmin pooped out for about 6 miles of stream crossings and the hike-a-bike sections.

By the numbers

My neighbors, friends, family and coworkers all know that I ride my bike. They use it as a means to elicit conversation with me because I am not by nature an outwardly loquacious guy.  I don't mind, because if pressed  I can talk about bikes all day long, but I usually have to take into account the audience to whom I am speaking and tailor the conversation to their real level of interest. 

If I told them the absolute truth about riding I am sure they would think I was off my bean. 

I keep a log of all my rides, I have been doing this since 2005 and I will admit to you that I am a total bike dork. I keep track of everything. 

I have taken a screen shot of the last two months of this year. 

You will notice that I color coordinate to denote what type of ride. Green is commuting, Brown is a dirt ride and the Gray represents road rides. Clever I know.

So by the numbers for the year of our Lord 2011;

3800.5     Total Miles to date
162          Total days ridden (why am I not faster)
77            Road rides
85            Dirt rides
288.12     Hours in the saddle
224,871   Calories burned (why am I not thinner)
264,858   Vertical feet climbed
144          Average heart rate
17.4         Average speed road
9.8           Average speed dirt

There you have it, the reality of my psychosis. Not to shabby for an aging, slightly overweight, father of FIVE girls, with two jobs and playing a part time Mr Mom because my Sugar Sweety brings home more cheddar than I do.
I would like to take a moment and thank her specifically for being so supportive of my habits, I think it's because she knows first hand the superb ability I have to put away the calories and she does not want to be married to a chubby guy. That would be a deal breaker.

That should give you guys some more fodder for our conversations, see you in the New Year.

Peace.

Falling with style

Had a great day planned on the bike today, I was set to meet Pete at the trailhead on Navajo at 11am. I had planned to ride there from Santa Clara with Duane, ride with Pete for a a bit and then ride home.
You know what they say about the best laid plans; the only thing that did happen was that I got some good mileage in. Duane had to go do a job in Kanab and Pete had to rescue an employee from the Purgatory Correctional facility. I got his text when I arrived at the designated spot. That's what you get when you hire a guy who's nickname is The Green Mile.


Tale of the tape, still interactive.



I also read a great article this week, "The Art of The Bail."  It's a pretty well thought out piece on crashing and that 1 in 100 rides crash that is going to get you.
I have not had a legit get-off in what seems like years so I know the odds are not in my favor.

If you can't read the whole article be sure to watch the vid at the end. I gave up on airing it out just after my second knee reconstruction. My wheels need to stay on the ground now but there are some great carnage shots of guys on the Shore. Interesting to see someone else's skewed view of reality and there is an absolute do-not-miss crash at the end. Skip the hospital shots as they are kinda gory.... unless you like that thing.

The fine print at the end also says, "pretty much everyone was hurt in the filming of this video."

If your not falling your not trying.

Rub-a-dub-dub

Mi amigo Pete is always on the ball. He presented me with not one, but two Christmas gifts this past week. I wish I could say that I am as good a friend as he, but I fear I am much, much worse.

I will be reporting on both gifts as they are of such a nature that they absolutely scream "blog post".
He presented this handsomely marketed piece in a plastic bag with the explanation-- "my wife won't let me keep this in the house unless it's in a plastic bag."  Smart thinking I say as it is redolent of campfire and beef jerky, very manly.

I showed it to my gal and she was also repulsed by the exotic bouquet. She forbade me to use it, which of course meant that I had to do exactly that. I could not let such a thoughtful gift go to waste, so I struck out for the farthest, most ventilated bathroom in the house, the pool bath.
The bar itself is actually a deep brown color, I assume that is why grandpa felt the need to advertise that it lathers white. It foamed up well and is not totally unpleasant once you have grown accustomed to it's earthy essence.
I don't have, nor have ever had, psoriasis, scales, eczema, dandruff or any other skin conditions that the soap is purported to cure so I cannot comment on it's healing nature. I can report that I did feel clean, so it really is a soap.

I asked my wife and the two older daughters, whom lately seem to appreciate the way men smell, what they thought of the scent. Two out of three said it was disgusting, the third had no opinion.
I will keep who said what to myself.

I have returned the bar to it's plastic bag, and the bag now resides in my garage. If any of you readers find yourselves with any of the above mentioned skin maladies, give me a ring and I can let you borrow this all natural cure-all. Until then it will set just where I left it.

Holiday guest

My sister and brother in law made it down for Thanksgiving, he brought his road bike and we did ride it once. Steve expressed an interest in getting out on the dirt, I am always willing to try and make new converts so I wrangled up a single speed bike for him, he could be hooked.

Steve suffering up the Sidewinder climb in the early morning hours.

Back at the bottom.

Die Cold Miser

As you may know, you cannot measure cold. All you can do is measure a lack of heat.
Another thing you cannot measure is my disdain for the cold. I started my ride this morning at 6am, in the dark and 31 degrees. When I was done it had dropped to 28.

You would think I would be used to it by now but every year I have to reinstate an uneasy truce with mother nature. I will continue to badmouth her and she will continue to make me suffer.


Long live the Heat Miser. Why is he portrayed as the bad guy, I think he is getting a bad rap.