Ritual and dividends

I had pondered whether or not all of the commuting and "road" riding I was doing would pay off in the dirt for at least a few weeks. I have not driven my car to work in more than a month and have ridden nearly everyday, rain or shine. My basic commute is pretty short, but I always add extra mileage at the beginning, end or both by tacking on a wider loop with one of the multiple streets that parallel my route. I generally also ride the whole thing in intervals doing flat out sprints for a block or two every few blocks. I am a sweaty mess by the time I roll into the office, but it is not anything a whore's bath will not fix and I feel good so there. Still it had been nearly three weeks since I turned the cranks off road and even longer since I been out to my favorite haunt Freedom Park. I took off pretty early yesterday and there was only two cars in the large lot when I rolled in before eight AM. No problem I know this place well and have plenty of tunes to keep me company. The trails were mint, albeit kinda dry so some sliding was present; no big deal. It was easily the fastest I have ever rode out there and I did everything. It was the first I can remember when I was just scorching along lost in whatever song was wailing away that I don't recall even noticing any climbs. Granted there are not any big ones there, but there are a few short lung-busters and I did not even think about them or even feel like I was really exerting myself. Again, I ride a big ass bike too so I cannot imagine how fast I would have been on some svelte XC rig.

Screw that though; I wanted to go nutz and ride some craziness which there is nice amount to be had out there. One of the older technical features is the "5' gully drop" which is simply a half-pipe style roll-in that you can drop off if the mood takes you. It has about a foot of vertical off the top, but is real clean. If you gun it you can soar. Usually I do a slight wheelie drop and roll it out, but I threw caution to the wind and stepped on it. I cleared the entire transition landing in the base of the gully some five and half feet+ down . The Nomadizer sucked it up like was just a curb with narry a whimper. Big grins, keep on. No one around...

...well almost. I was moving along at pretty decent clip about a third of the way through when a guy on a titanium hard tail came up on my wheel. The single track was tight w/o any room to pass so as usual homeboy would catch me on the short ascents and I would lose him on the descents. We played this cat and mouse game for a few minutes. I was not going to pull over and let him by if he could hold it together on the descents. Finally we got to the the only really technical switchback in the park; a 180 degree off camber left hander that if you blow it will send off the side of a gully or into a tree at the turn's apex. Now albeit I am an advanced rider, this switchback can be handled by even novices if they are willing to slow down and pick their way through it. Unfortunately over the last couple of years a bypass line was cut in without permission and many people will use it to avoid dealing with the switchback which causes you to slow down. You already know what I am go to write...I took the switchback and ti boy took the "cheater line". Granted I really do not care what or how anyone rides, but in my adrenaline-induced state I had to scream Cheater Line!!! at him to provide an appropriate heckle. So I am fucking hater.

I tore through the rest of it and made every stunt I tried and even gunned it off the big A-frame for some big air and big fun. So, I will admit that the road riding has paid dividends and I will keep on keeping on. Any day turning the cranks is better than one when you do not be it on of off road. I will never get all the dirt out of my veins though. Enjoy some of the ritual pics below.





Notable Noise:

1. Guana Batz: "Speed Freak Peril"
   
2. Nekromantix: "Gargoyles Over Copenhagen"
3. Crystal Method: "10 Miles Back"
4. Poison 13: "Hellbound Train" indeed.
5. Mission of Burma: "Max Ernst"
6. Fu Manchu: "Grendel, Snowman" Stoopidly heavy!
7. Minutemen: "Jesus and Tequila"
8. Tales of Terror "13"
9. Monkeywrench: "Judgment Day"
10. Gun Club: "Shes like Heroin to Me" One of my top 5 songs. Ever.
    

Reaching down to the depths...

...or I have been to the mountain. This past weekend Bobasaki and I traveled to Memphis to see the Oblivians and The Gories reunion shows Friday and Saturday night. Describing the weekend as nothing short of epic does no justice to what we experienced. I have probably forgotten more shows than most people will ever see and these were two of the best I can remember. However the entire trip beyond the shows was just as soul-shaking.

Most people have never heard of either of these bands. I kind of think that's too bad, but then I feel like most people are too stupid to get it anyway so who cares? Those in the know are aware that these 2 bands have become nothing short of legendary in their sphere of influence in the world of underground garage punk mayhem. They are revered worldwide and are generally far too real and brash for mainstream America's pasteurized tastes. Neither band has a bass player, they are not always in tune, their equipment is questionable and sometimes barely functional, they do not wear any sassy outfits and their sounds are far from clean or slick. Yet their raw energy, emotion and primal sound blows away just about anyone I can think of. While both groups certainly wear some of their influences on their ragged sleeves, they really do not sound like anyone else...a rare quality. Their songs are simple, catchy with no filler an designed to move you.



Move they did. The above video from the second night is a pretty good representation of how things were throughout both nights. The firebrand intensity from the bands that charged through the 400+ member audience never let up on either night. Everywhere I looked people were laughing, dancing screaming and jumping around and no fights either night. This is considering the fathoms of beer that was consumed and the temperature inside that seemed to be over 100 degrees. Sweat was dripping off of the ceiling. I am not a religious person at all, but this was as close as I have ever come to having a religious experience. It was as uplifting as it gets and I could not wipe the grin off my face the whole time.

There was so much more though...we met up with an old college buddy of mine whom I had not seen in nearly 15 years and we had a blast catching up and getting blasted. It was a non-stop alcohol-fueled ride with cheap beer and tequila providing a sunny glow to the spectacle. We actually only had tickets to the Saturday night show, but managed to impress a notoriously mean door man whom let us in anyway, despite both nights having been sold out for months. Saturday we went to very interesting places including Goner Records, The Brooks Museum, a Goodwill thrift store, Cafe Ole', Murphy's Bar and the Stax Museum. The Stax museum will floor you. We were speechless with big lumps in throats...the stories and the content will shake yr soul to its emotional core. It is very heavy, but a must see.

After we left Stax still shaking, we decided a libation was desperately needed and some nice tequila at Cafe Ole soothed our bruised souls. We then made it over to catch Cococoma at Murphy's afternoon band cook out party. They ripped with soaring vocal harmonies and high energy poppy garage punk nuggets that made you wanna dance. Their female lead guitar player was tearing it up and was fun to watch too.

All in all it was as good well actually better than I could have ever hoped for. I have been to the mountain and it is gonna feel real good!

Group Sex

Actually just a "group ride", but probably some of the same elements of sloppiness and confusion were shared. Great album above BTW; go buy or copy it now. Y'all probably think I have gone totally ghey over road riding...I have not. I will never get all of the dirt outta my veins. However, since I started doing the bulk of my daily commuting aboard my urban deathryder (aka Schwinn Supersport DBX) I have grown fond of the speed and edge of yr seat thrill of ripping through traffic. I mentioned here b4 about having my bike start to disintegrate beneath me on a previous dawn patrol through town. My rims after several years have just gotten beat down; I was replacing spokes almost every other month...riding a "road" bike like a mountain bike is not very conducive to maintaining true wheels. Not to mention that the original wheelset that came on the bike was total crap; I destroyed the rear wheel on one of my first rides. Now even the rebuilt rear wheel was looking pretty beat. I had talked to Josh at Contes (Norfolk, the best boys and girls) several times about building a new wheelset and last week I finally pulled the trigger. I thought about fancy svelte wheels with blinged out ano hubs and decided that was a lot of overpriced crap I did not need and would likely rapidly demolish. I opted to go for durability over weight and figured I could get a unique look with painted Velocity Deep V's. I opted for red with non-machined sidewalls which would look way rad since I do not use rim brakes. I had Josh relace the new wheels to my old hubs which work fine and was completely stoked with the look upon picking it up yesterday.


It reminds me of a hot rod and looks like nothing anyone else was riding at the ride today; perfect. Why would I want to look like anyone else anyway? I am pretty sure that the wheelset may be heavier than it's predecessor, but damn it felt great. Like a steamroller, I felt like I could crush everything in my path. This is a good thing for me because in contrast to every other roadie I do not feel the need to avoid every pebble, crack, pothole, animal hair or whatever everyone of them would yell out to warn each other about throughout the ride. I know this is part of the etiquette, but I just will never get it. I guess if everyone riding with you had never ridden before and could not handle their bike for shit then I could understand it. Then again many roadies I have met are poor bike handlers so maybe that's the point...heaven forbid they learn to ride their bikes with some handling prowess. I am not complaining; I find it amusing and found myself giggling about it today.

I ran late this morning for the 7:30 wheels up time. Fat Frog's in Va Beach runs an AM ride every morning, but Saturdays obviously bring out the crowds of weekend warriors. I barreled into the parking lot at 7:32 to find the groups (A++, A, B, C) already lined up. The A++ bunch took off just as I turned my car off. I grabbed my shiz, threw on my shoes helmet and took off just as the C group pulled out. The C group is predominately newbies/hybrid riders and they generally go the least distance at the slowest pace. I was on a complete adrenaline overload and blew past them to chase down the B group. I got up behind the leaders and stayed put knowing I still was not even close to pushing it. Then I got a break as a group of riders from the back of the A group came in from another intersection to pass. I hopped in behind them and it was on. I do not know just how fast we were going, but these guys were working. I was riding in a fury; punk music from helmet blaring in my ears and feeling stoked about how the bike was feeling sent me into riding with a vengeance. My chance came to pull and I overcooked it and had to fall back and grab a gel. I know that I need these little packets of quickly digestible energy, but my loss of taste for sweets makes me almost gag on them. Off the back, I trudged on. A few more riders caught up to me at this point and I drafted in with them. We maintained a solid pace and I felt my second wind blow in thus I started towards the front again. I traded back and forth with a couple of cats and then found that we had once again caught the bunch from the A group that appeared to be hurting at this point. I felt good and took off after them. I caught all of them and finished with the lead guy back at the shop.

I am in no way gloating over any of this. The ride is maybe only 20-25 miles depending on yr route and is completely flat. The flat though makes the whole thing a drag race if you gun it. Still the ripping through the groups, careening around corners and using some strategy to come out solid was a blast. I managed to garner a few dirty looks likely stemming from my Cars-R-Coffins jersey, but no one really said much about my riding or behavior which consisted of my silly music and random hooting an hollering. One of the guys actually complemented me saying something about how I "make that bike move". Thats the point; if you wanna cruise stick to the boardwalk. I gotta move.

Random songs from the ride:

1. Fu Manchu: "Anodizer" a song about BMX, but I dug it here anyway.
2. The Buzzcocks: "Noise Annoys"
3. Beck: "Mixed Bizness"
   
4. Poison 13: "One Step Closer" I shout/sing along with the chorus on this one...whatever.
5. Zeke: "Now You Die"
6. The Dirtbombs: "Ever Lovin' Man" fucking amazing!
7. The Reverend Horton Heat: "The Devils Chasing Me" no shit.
   
8. The Cramps: "How Far Can Too Far Go?" I'm trying to rip the legs off everyone in front of me and this makes me wanna shake my ass.
9. Oblivians: "Drill"
10. Tenderloin: "Pawnshop"
    

Dance this Mess Around...

I will never argue with any roadies about the intensity of going fast as hell down some smooth tarmac. However, I probably will never adhere to the code of conduct and unspoken rule book that seems to be religion in roadie circles. I ride my "road" bike like a mountain bike; I look for hole-shots through rough sections, jump curbs/potholes and take some iffy chances blasting through traffic. I realize this will never endear me to the road elite. I do not ride a traditional road bike either. Most serious roadies are pretty caught up in what feather-light aerospace trick bit you are running and if your kit matches. Heaven-forbid yr bike having any dings or dirt. I cannot recall any mountain bike I have ever owned that did not get filthy and seem to stay like that even after cleaning and lubing. Now I do not abuse my bikes, in fact I am pretty picky about maintaining them, but wear and tear are something I expect. Scuffs and a bit of grime here and there just add character.

I certainly do not fit into the roadie stereo-type look either. I never wear Lycra fitted jerseys or shorts. I almost wear the same get up as I do when I ride off road, sans the armor and pack. This consists of Swobo knickers,a pair of Dickies long shorts, maybe a cheap t-shirt or loose-cut jersey, full-fingered gloves that I've worn out off road and my Azonic surround sound helmet, which is basically a BMX lid with passive speakers built-in that you can plug an iPod into. The helmet itself is not that great; its hot, heavy and not well vented. The speakers though make it worth it which provide a nice soundtrack to all my riding sessions. I suppose I like the esthetic too as it is covered with stickers of questionable taste bordering on being offensive. My shoes are Specialized mountain shoes that are basically the same as a road shoe, but have lugs so you can walk around in them off the bike. I understand road shoes if you are racing and have no intentions of stopping for a very long time, but they make little sense for anyone else.

This morning I did stop for an espresso which I felt like I was above last time I talked about this sort of stuff. I think I managed to frighten a guy and his son as came to a sudden stop inches from them at the door of the coffee shop. They gave me the stink-eye and the father kinda tried to play it off nodding his head like some kind of hipster that its highly doubtful he ever was. I may be reading too much into it, but I kinda felt like a turd in swimming pool on the 4th of July. I gotta remind myself to either go somewhere else or just mentally tell everyone there to go fuck themselves. I will likely go with the later as the coffee hole is at a good stopping point on my loop.

I mixed it up a little on this AM loop adding streets through the downtown that I rarely take. Sketchier traffic patterns, shitty neighborhoods and unfamiliar terrain made it even more fun. I enjoyed the nastiness, the adventure and it made me almost not miss being off road for a second or two. I am not no Limberger...

Durability, performance, cost and a side of chaos.

"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius -- and a lot of courage -- to move in the opposite direction." A. Einstein

Al really nailed it on this one and many others too. My mind tends to wander often much to the chagrin of those around me. I tend to think probably too much and I find myself qualifying and validating why I do things a certain way. My artistic proclivities lean towards the chaotic, confusing and are generally odd or at odds with those of the mainstream. I enjoy things that really do not make much sense nor have much use other than being eye-candy or have the ability to wrench a strong emotion from the audience. Indifference is the worst reaction I believe that anyone can have to anything. I would rather have my efforts hated than nothing. Thus I have always recoiled at the concept of decorative art. Art should not match yr couch. It should be provocative, maybe even scary and shake the viewer up. That is the way I prefer it.

In contrast when it comes to functional items in my repertoire I am mad for efficiency. I am with old Al above in that I like things simple. In my pantheon of values placed on the hardware of my life vocationally (dentistry) or leisurely (cycling) the three most important are durability, performance and value. Durability trumps all for me. I am a big guy; I play rough and my jobs/sports are brutal on equipment. I think warranties are dumb; use whatever yr gone use and take responsibility when you trash it. That is not say that I do not think manufacturers should not stand behind their work if there is a legit material/manufacturer's defect. Yet, warrantying (really insuring) some piece of equipment that is abused or pushed well beyond what it was designed for is just dumb. Everyone was "just riding along" (JRA) when their bike broke in half just like everyone in prison is innocent. I expect things to work as they are purported to, but I will not sweat when whatever it is goes out after I have worked it over.

In expecting things to work I want them to possess a high level of performance. I want my bikes to hold up, but I want them to perform the duties I bestow on them at the tops. Many people get weirded out by the fact that my bikes are not very light. They are not ridiculously heavy, but far more so than the magazines would have you believe is acceptable. Again durability is king, but I want them to handle the terrain I frequent like a surgeon's scalpel. (There is a bike called a Scalpel, but it never really turned me on...that's another topic though.). I want the drivetrain to pop off shifts with authority, the tires to grip like like a hungry pit bull then predictably break away and the suspension to swallow everything yet not flop around like a bed in cheap motel. At work, I want my instruments sharp, my handpieces powerful with lotsa torque and my burs or files new. I want to be able to move rapidly through whatever procedure I am faced with. Inefficiency wastes time and money. I want the best for these efforts for work or fun.

So what is the best worth and how do you assign a value to this? I am not cheap nor am I flashy so I do not need the latest flavor every other minute. Many people I know fall into this mentality. Many of their got-to-have-right-now items end up on eBay or collecting dust in a closet or garage. I don't care about bleeding edge stuff; it will be there tomorrow it if works. I have no problem spending for something that I believe will serve the above definitions well, but I do not just spend willy nilly. I was not always like this. Falsely I thought I could never execute the high quality of work I wanted to provide or really have a great ride without the best of the best. I met a dentist whom I talked to about working for awhile ago. He owned a pretty lavish practice in a very nice location. Lotsa bells buzzers and whistles filed his ops which I gushed over. He was quick to say that he could do the dentistry he does in a sewer if he had to. You only have to want to do good work; all the rest is just icing. I took this to heart and it changed my attitude. I try to minimize the amount I pay for the icing and focus on what I "the cake" can do better instead.

Random 10 songs in my soundtrack lately:

1. Hemlock 13: "Someone I Care About"
2. Tales of Terror: "Deathryder"
3. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club: "Took Out a Loan"
4. The Damned: "She"
   
5. TV on the Radio: "Wolf Like Me"
6. Mission of Burma: "That's When I Reach for My Revolver"
7. Zeke: "Super Six"
8. The Cult: "Big Neon Glitter"
9. Sonic Youth: "Tom Violence'
10. The Dirtbombs: "Sun is Shining"