Ghetto

I thought the ghettoness would show up better in this picture


It worked it worked!
Last year I spent way too much time trying to get cross tires to work with my rims tubeless.
Today I spent too much time as well, but I found success!
Well 50% success.
I used the "ghetto method" of splitting a 24" tube down the center on the rim, putting the tire on with the tube flaps hanging out, and airing it up.
My rear sealed up like a champ (read what you want into that).
The front, not so much.
My front rim is slightly wider and maybe a little deeper and just wouldn't go. I had a narrower tighter rim lying around the shop, so I gave that a shot.
Getting the tire on was quite a chore; it was so tight I couldn't get the tube flaps out from under the tire bead. But I chanced airing it up anyways...and it sealed...and then all the air came out of a hole in the side wall.
At that I was low on time, sealant, and thumbs, so I left it there.
It's just a matter of building up that rim bed and having ample sealant on hand and we've got tubeless cross wheels.
Wondering why I didn't just do it on my Stan's Crest rimmed disc brake wheels?
More on that later...

I knew I never should have done it.
I knew it I knew it I knew it!
If I raced cross, I'd love cross.
True, I was hating it when I was actually racing, but the pain has mellowed into a delightful memory of effort.
Dammit!
Now I'm plotting and planning and obsessed.
Like bicycle heroin.
I knew better.

Like a Virgin

Saturday was my very first cross race. I had planned to go down to NY for the Bottle Ride, but when the date changed from Saturday to Sunday, it conflicted with family commitments.
So when Andy said he was coming up from NJ to do Crossin' 4 Canines a scant 20 minutes from my door step, and asked if I was going to do it, what could I say?
I put the biggest gear I could fit on BluSteel without changing the chain length, some fast rolling Maxxis Aspen 2.1 tires, headed over and hoped for the best.
Fumbled with the intricacies of pinning a number to my jersey, and rolled around Rocky Hill until the course was open for a pre-ride lap.
I respectfully took a spot in the last row, reminding myself this was just for fun.
Whistle blows and there is all sorts of line chopping and weaving going on around me; mountain bike racing seems downright polite!
I don't know if you could really call it settling in, but I began racing with a group of about 5 guys.
Hot, dry and dusty; this is not fun.
I'm doing the barriers as well as any of the guys around me, but I don't know if that is good or bad.
At the end of the first lap, the official says I'm 11th.
That changes at the 2nd 180 on the course when I lock my rear brake, and spinout.
Now I'm chasing back to the group I was racing with.
Still not having fun.
When I reach "my group", I'm getting frustrated. I feel like I could be riding faster, but keep getting blocked in the corners. So I power up the outside to get to the front before a little barrier in front of what is supposed to be a run-up (nobody runs it and everyone bunny-hops the barrier). Bunny-hopping the barrier is one place my mountain bike is a definite advantage over the cross bikes.
On the previous two laps I noticed this second half of the lap (beginning after the "run-up") I was riding a little stronger than "my group", so I try and put some power down; as much "power" as one can expect from a little man. This gives me a little gap, that only one of "my guys" can close.
We are racing neck and neck up to the double barriers, when he crashes during his dismount.
Now I'm dangling off the front of my splintering bunch.
A guy in a white jersey (results aren't posted online yet, and since I don't usually race with these guys, that's the best I can do for an id) is maintaining a pretty consistent gap, if not closing in on me for the last two laps. I'm expecting him to catch me, but the gap is hard to judge with the way the course winds and twists.
He never does hunt me down and I cross the line completely oblivious to how I did.
I don't think I had a lot of fun.
One of the guys I was racing with tells me cross isn't so fun when it's so hot (it was 92 *F!). Then a photographer tells me I pissed off a lot of guys, which I assume is because I finished ahead of them riding a singlespeed mountain bike with a bell. That cheers me up a little.
True, immature, but look who we're talking about here.
Then a guy I finished in front of (from "my group") says he finished tenth.
Hello!
When results are posted it turns out I got 7th out of 33.
That perks me up a bit.
Then someone tells me since they didn't have a Pro1/2/3 group, my race was open to them (they had 4's Master 35+, 45+,55+, Women, and Cat 3/4).
Maybe this cross racing isn't so bad after all?
When's the next race?
don't be hatin' on my bell

There will be blood

When the lead singer and primary song writer of the pivotal 80's band, The Jet Planes, calls and asks if you're doing the Crossin' 4 Canine CX race, what are you supposed to say?
Sorry my race season ended two weeks ago? I've never raced cross before? I don't have a cross bike? I really should be working?
No!
Such silly insignificant excuses will not suffice.
All one can do is affirm the request.
I'll be racing my Singular Swift singlespeed, complete with flat bar and bell. I'll be running the largest gear I can accommodate without shortening my chain, if I've got time, I might even slap on the skinniest 29'er tires I've got.
It ain't gonna be pretty...
(at least my bike is)

Traditions

Every year, a day or two after my "anniversary", I ride Pennwood.
Pennwood was the first place I rode after I decided to clean up my act and get back into some sort of shape.
5 years and 20 pounds later I was planning on keeping the tradition alive.
But I'd have to drive pass Nassahegan to get there and spend an extra 35 minutes in the truck.
What's a tradition if it can't be broken?
As a reward for not passing up a great riding spot in the name redundancy I was finally able to piece the loop I've always tried to do without getting lost (I actually took a wrong turn right at the end, but that netted me a little extra singletrack with zero backtracking).
But as penance for not maintaining the tradition, my phone which had been silent for 6 hours while I drove around doing deliveries rang 5 times. Felt like a total douche talking sinks in the middle of the woods, but what can you do?
Here are some crappy pictures of my very excellent ride.

Through the ferns

Some bench-cut singletrack (Thanks FDR!)

Top of a rock

More rocks

A glacier threw up

It would have been a shame to have worn these sock and not gone riding.
Yesterday was my first day rigid since the Norcross Scurry. It was prompted by my Reba sucking ass.
First half of the ride I was thinking maybe I needed a bigger front tire, or maybe I just wasn't up to rigid yet. But after I stopped to clear some deadfall, there was a change, as if the spirit of Jens Voigt had come to me.
And then I had more fun on a bike than I've had in a long time...so much so that I almost crashed into another rider as I rode down the East fence line.

Junkie

On Saturday Kerry, Doug and I whipped out a TdT.
First thing Yesterday Kerry and I did a quick Res loop.
Around noon Lillian and I had a casual saunter down the rail-trail from Farmington to Avon.
Later in the day I was thinking "gee, a bike ride would be nice right now".
Right now I'm plotting how I can get all my work done and get a ride in before I have to make the kids dinner and get them going on their homework tonight.
5 years ago yesterday I decided to take a break from drinking and haven't bothered to start again. Seems I've replaced one habit with another.