Same as it ever was

Ah the 4th 'o July weekend wrap-up! Explosions in the sky. Suntan lotion. Funnel Cake. Harborfest. The tourist season is in now in high gear now. This kind of thing made me want to leave SE Virginia faster than dry wick burning on one of the thousands of cheap bottle rockets lit over the weekend when I was a kid. I have never really cared much for crowds. Mob mentalities and the descent of the collective IQ have no appeal for me.

Instead I celebrated by doing different stuff. I began the day with an early morning trail ride out at Ipswich which I have discussed here before. In the past I have stated that this trail is always different every time I go. I do not go there much. A couple of times around and that's about all there is. Not much to see. There are the basic trails which see little to no maintenance, random man made obstacles (bridges, A-frames, teeters, drop offs, log piles) strewn about and the dirt jump lines. New things spring up, things get torn down and life goes on. This time around most of the obvious man made stuff had been removed since the last time I was out. This was kind of bummer as some pretty nice bridgework was gone necessitating alternate routes to complete the loops. There was several different versions of bridges that spanned this creek pictured below since I returned to the area, but there was not even a trace of any of that left. I have a feeling someone may rebuild something here as it really kinda screws up the loop without it. Nonetheless, the "switch" still felt like it always had since I began riding out there nearly 20 years ago. It is still a chaotic mess that is fast, twisty and filled with naturally technical terrain that keeps you focused. The faster you ride it the better. I was cooking along pretty well so no complaints.

I then picked up the fam and went down to see a buddy and his family that I played with in a band in the early 90's down at the beach. It felt great to catch up and talk about all the crazy shit from back then. Good times.

Then it was off to my friends house who had left us run of his place while he was away for the weekend. He has a pool and it overlooks the cargo loading docks across the river. I had a neato floaty doo dad that I wanted to try out with the lil' man. He loved it and it was just nice and low key fun.
Tons of explosions in the sky rang out through the evening. We had no need to go get in the middle of any of that. We lucked out as our balcony afforded us a perfect view of the Harborfest show. Best of all I could sip wine w/o having to deal with any alcohol check points. Once in a lifetime...

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"

Team or...

...just you? I have never given a shit about most organized sports. Even going back to when I played football from elementary community league through lettering in high school I never like to watch it. I did not like most of the other guys on the team off the field and a few I despised. I liked playing the game then, but that was it. When I graduated high school I walked away from the last of any team sports I would participate in again. All the while I had become far more immersed in individual athletic pursuits such as running, weights and more importantly skateboarding and eventually mountain biking.

Cycling in general is a purely individual sport. You plus bike. Thats it. Yes, I know about the basic mechanisms in road race strategy and how you must rely on yr team mates, drafting, yada, yada. However, in the end it just you and the bike. This holds true even on group rides like one I did today. Sure it was no race, but we all jockeyed for position on different sections of the trails. If you had to stop eventually the others would be waiting for yr (or my) sorry ass, but they cannot do anything for you. Its just you and the bike. You develop a continuous goal list throughout the ride. "Make that climb, hit that drop, jump that log, stick the landing, carve the turn, don't lock up the brakes, don't slide out, get in the right gear", etc. etc. One of the riders who joined us this morning had not rode the trails before and went missing not long after we started. We doubled back and forward yelled and looked all over for him. Eventually we continued on realizing that he could only help himself by either returning to the car or potentially riding a different section at his own pace. He choose the later option and we found him as we were nearly back to our cars. It was just him and his bike.

The James River Park System trails have been around for along time and I have mentioned them here before. I still love the original Buttermilk trail section the best as it is really virtually unchanged from when I first rode there in the early 90's. The trails were in great shape, nicely tacky from an early morning shower and the weather was sunny, but not miserably. We met up with Jay who runs the CCVA website and forums.
We played on many of the technical sections and lil' jumps along the way. I sucked wind up some of the climbs, but still did well overall and made up for it in the nasty sections.
Ten random songs from my ride playlist:

1. The Pretty Things: "Come See Me"
2. Zeke: "Chiva Knievel"
3. Ikara Colt: "Don't They Know"
4. Buzzcocks: Ever Fallen in Love"
5. Gang of Four: "Not Great Men"
6. X: "The Hungry Wolf"
7. The Dirtbombs: "The Sun is Shining"
8. The White Stripes: I'm Finding it Harder to be a Gentleman"
9. Lars Fredricksen and the Bastards: "For You"
10. Dream Snydicate: " Definitely Clean"

It was just me and my bike.

Ride in Non Sequiturs

Sunday, mid-morning. I grabbed a small amount of basic supplies. A 3-way wrench, tube, CO2 inflater, tire lever, a Gu pack, a water bottle, id, a 10 dollar bill, and my cell phone. Considered doing a legitimate tire air pressure check, but just gave 'em squeeze and took off. I should have added a lil' air. The churches that lace the main street were doing a lot of business. Their attendant's cars blocked the lane closest to the sidewalks making things a bit sketchier. Cut through a neighborhood to avoid a bad intersection. Couples walking dogs. A woman in a sweatsuit with headphones and a fanny pack with two goldens. My front wheel is outta true. Made wrong turns cutting through the naval base. Guys driving late model Mustangs. I enjoyed hearing Poison Idea's "Lifestyles" coming from my helmet speakers.



Sang along. Thought about the irony of getting a workout while listening to band that has had several members who weigh over 3 bills. Thought about how flat everything is here. The two bridges I climb during the loop do not count. My front wheel is even more outta true, but it does not matter since I have disc brakes. It looks like someone taking a licorice whip and flopping back and forth. Considered stopping for an espresso, but felt trendy and decided against it. One engine rattled down the tracks. Sounded like a cow mooing in the distance. A Hispanic man lie on the sidewalk at a bus stop bobbing his torso back in forth. Many potholes. Spokes are starting to make noise. Front wheel looks even worse. I hate waiting at lights. Five police cars went past in less than two minutes. Sat for the light then, but ran the next three. Made the left turn onto my street across three lanes of traffic going both directions without stopping.Took off my glasses. Rolled inside.

Guilty pleasures redux

I cannot remember why as a silly junior high student who was trying like hell to be cool I ever bought the record Talk Talk Talk by The Psychedelic Furs. Most kids were still into what would later be known as Classic Rock and lord knows it was not cool to step out of the favoring crowd's tastes as you would be quickly labeled a social pariah, a fag or whatever stupid insult your peers could lob at you. I had already begun to embrace The Ramones, The B-52's and DeVo at this point, but as I have mentioned, those bands while quirky were not considered threatening to most. I really do not consider the Furs to be threatening, but rather haunting and moody. I feel like their sound always had a long standing influence on my tastes and no matter how hard, nasty and heavy any of the bands I came to like I always retained a soft spot for softer moody dark musical pieces.

Singer Richard Butler's gritty baritone and John Ashton's noisy guitar howl are the two elements that define the sound on Talk Talk Talk that I really feel that the Furs tried hard to capture again and again only with varying success after this record. Their later efforts become much smoother and pop-laden; losing the tension that this album is filled with. I put Richard Butler in my top five list of all-time favorite singers. I have tried to mimic his sound without adding a fake English accent as I am in the same register if not deeper. He has that scratchy sound first heard on blues records that scores of people have imitated over the years. Yet, his is laced with punk anger and his accent gives it a whole different level of claustrophobia.

John Ashton's guitar wailing is splattered all over this record. He created tons of texture with jagged soft/loud juxtaposition and clever use of effects without sounding over-done. I can draw a pretty direct line from his playing here and the cacophony of bands like Sonic Youth who mined similar territory albeit with far more brutality.

Talk Talk Talk is one of my go to albums for its melancholy feel. I do not think it is depressing; rather it becomes a foil for me when I am feeling down, insecure or confused. At the same time it has a very sexual feel too with the tension that abounds. It overall yells about issues, but more to a mirror than to everyone else. It is an inward-looking anger as opposed to the outward screaming that characterized the first punk efforts by bands like the The Sex Pistols and The Clash. Many Joy Division fans also seem to like the Furs, but the Furs were always more "poppy" and more accessible. So get mad, but keep it to yourself and give this a listen.

Oh Deer

Today I rode at Freedom Park after a long day. As usual the traffic to and from sucked ass, but I was somewhere else so it did not seem to annoy as much as usual. I reflected on times past, good and bad, old friends and the path that lead me to driving in the sunny 80 degree weather to go sweat like a pig after a busy if not harrowing work week. I could have just as easily gone home or put my head down anywhere and fallen asleep. However, I needed to clear the cobwebs and reshuffle some of the resident demons in my head. I had not rode my trusty Nomad since doing shuttle runs with some of the nutty Richmond DH/Chainsmoke crew outside of H'burg a few weeks back. That did not really seem like my bike though as I had kitted it out for the trip with DH wheels and tires giving it a completely different and much "heavier" feel. I returned to its normal set-up with the addition of a ti-spring from DSP. I am not really sure why I did this, but I had made a little spare kale selling some bike stuff on eBay so I figured I would treat myself. The Nomadizer rode fantastic today. I stuck everything I tried save one large barrel roll I bailed on and the bike floated like never before. It did seem to feel different then when I had a steel spring; overall much smoother without feeling "gooey".

The ride while intense allowed for some much needed solitude. I rocked my usual soundtrack and everything just flowed. Lots of "Sweet Air" to rip off Napoleon Dynamite. I saw not another soul. I suppose they all were headed out of town, or to BBQ's or whatever the choads around here do. I did see at least a half a dozen deer over the almost two hours that I rode. Maybe they were "stimulated" by the nice spring day. Fortunately none of them attempted to bust any of the moves exhibited below on me nor was any French spoken.



I know that I have been working hard as my forearms are very sore. Kinda like "Tennis Elbow" except for dentists. Maybe "Dentists Elbow". Often I daydream of less complicated times with the intensity and demands of my days now. I see pictures that get posted of me from years ago on social network sites and it seems like it was yesterday. It is likely that I thought everything was "too" complicated back then too, but who knows? Pour yrself a strong cocktail and listen to one of my favorite hate-filled numbers.

In or On?

I often ask myself this question. I am "in it or on it"? I cannot stand bicycles that you feel like you are riding "on" them. I want to feel like the bike is moving with me in concert responding to my input in a predictable way as if I am a part of it, in it. This is especially true for full suspension bicycles. A bike that you are "on" just bounces along willy nilly with little regard for the terrain or yr commands. I do not wanna be a passenger.

I apply this logic to most of my endeavors. I was recently a panel member for a salad taste testing for the culinary section in our local newspaper. Three salads from local eateries that received highest number of reader votes were chosen for our group to try and pick the "best of". My "in vs. on" theory worked here too. I found that the salad with dressing that sat atop the ingredients instead of integrating well was the least pleasant of the three. Although the other panel members may not share my same tastes, we all agreed on this issue with the particular salad. The article will be in Virginian Pilot on May 31st.

The only place that I can think of that might counter this approach would be with musical instruments. Sometimes I believe that an instrument's limitations in design and feel forces one to play in a way that the might not have been considered if it was too easy or comfortable. My favorite quote in regards to this comes from Southern Culture on the Skids guitar guru Rick Miller: "You can fake a lot of things, but you cannot fake sounding cheap." I have my work horse guitars; reliable, predictable, and easy to play. I try not to forget to bust out the freak show axes now and then for something weird.

Speaking of weird cheap music, I am going to Memphis to see the Gories/Oblivians reunion in June. This should be unreal. I saw the Oblivians back in the day and they were great. Neither band has played in over 10 years and my pal Bobasaki and I scored tickets to the Saturday night sold out show. No bass all night; treble melt-down.






What Rock and Roll is all about.

Life in the way...

It has been quite awhile since I posted anything here, but I swear I have had a pretty busy schedule and have not just been a slack motherfucker.



Everyone is aware of the economic shithole America is in, however oddly my work has been busy or busier than ever. Dentistry was one of only two professions in 2008 that remained profitable. Our staff decreased in size, but our work load really has not. No complaints, but it means many long hours.

When I am not at work 5.5 days a week 9-10+hours a day, I try to spend some QT with my lil' guy who is now over 7 mos old. No, neither my wife or I have gotten much sleep since his arrival; yes, we are nutz about him and yes, we like being parents, but don't always like doing it. The PC-minions out there would likely feel such a statement means that we are bad parents b/c we aren't overjoyed by every aspect of having a new child. My wife and I have careers and want to work as well as many pastimes we are passionate about. I have never given a rat's ass about being PC, so a big fuck U to anyone who wants to point fingers. Usually, by the time we have gotten Sam off to sleep, fed ourselves, walked and fed the dogs and tried to clean up the place its getting into the 10-11 PM range. Sam wakes up b/t 5-6 AM and we have to get up to get ready for work around then too. Unfortunately Sam still occasionally wakes in the middle of the night and is not always easily coaxed back to sleep. I am not bitching here; just stating facts.

The above conditions have put our spare time at a minimum. I still try to at least get in one solid multi-hour trail ride each weekend and I ride to work 2-4 days a week, but the days of several weekend rides and after work rides seem a distant memory. My music endeavors went on hiatus as Sam's arrival loomed last year. I am looking into new possibilities now, but it is slow going. I did purchase a nice gizmo for cataloging the noises in my head, but I have yet to hunker down to really use it yet. I am trying to be optimistic, but that is a challenge being a generally cynical character.

There are somethings I have been pleased with regarding my avocations. As you can see I updated title photo and for the observant ones out you'll notice that all of the bikes are sporting Rock Shox forks. This is quite a change for me as less than 6 years ago I would not have run any Rock Shox fork if you paid me. However, I now believe that they make the best forks out there with the most reliable and efficient tuning system available. Rock Shox put out some real crap prior to bike mega-corp SRAM purchasing them, but the have turned around 180 degrees becoming industry leaders with top racers/riders the world over rocking their products. SRAM has something besides money that is huge...great customer service and this has allowed even a few miss steps to be overlooked.

Speaking of service, I used do my own fork repair and rebuild work, however the aforementioned time constraints have made me seek out a 3rd party to do this as I would rather ride than tinker. I came across Suspension EXperts out of Asheville, NC a few months back and cannot recommend them more highly. They know their stuff, they work on every brand of fork or shock out there and their customer service is fantastic. I had them do rebuilds and some minor tweaks on my Rock Shox Lyrik and Recon (on my Nomad and Spot respectively) and the ride is terrific. Check 'em out. Keep the rubber down and try not to let life get in the way.

The Bloody Gears of a Boppin' Machine

The 1st couple of months of 2009 have been rough as 2 of the greats have checked out. 1st Ron Asheton passed away in January followed by the passing of Lux Interior this month. The music that these two individuals created has had a huge influence on my musical tastes, music creation and outlook on music in general. I will not waste any cyberspace on singing their praises; go look them up buy their music and get educated yourselves. Instead I just wanted to share a brief tale of my first encounter with the music of The Cramps.

I was somewhere around a whopping 14 years old and had recently been exposed to "different" music from what the local rock stations were cramming down everyone's throats. My friends and I had already found DeVo, The B-52's and The Ramones. While each of these bands are great in their own right none of them possessed the danger; the shock or the kind of sound that would really make adults around us cringe from the music we were soon to hear.
I was over at a friend's house one afternoon goofing around looking for trouble to get into. I remember it was raining so going out was not in the cards. My friend's older sister and her boyfriend came over and brought some records that for some reason the let us hang out and listen too. The boyfriend was already considered by most to be a neighborhood weirdo; he had a spiky haircut, wore torn up clothes and hand drawn t-shirts with lotsa safety pins. Keep in mind that this was nearly 30 years ago and you could not find this look pre-packaged at the mall; no Hot-Topics, no internet, nothing. The records he brought over were as follows: Black Flag: "Nervous Breakdown", The Dead Kennedys: "Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables", Angry Samoans: "Queer Pills" and The Cramps: "Gravest Hits". I could write several treatises on each of these records, however of the four I have continued to listen to The Cramps year after year. All at once The Cramps were loud, dangerous and in contrast to the other bands, sexy. While I loved the aggression of the other records The Cramps were darker more seething and made you wanna dance and not necessarily beat someone up doing so. I saw them play a half a dozen or more times over the years and they were always great. They turned me on to tons of music I would have never found through their endless covers of long lost garage, rock-a-billy, psychedelic and generally strange nuggets. Years later in college I would become a huge fan of The Stooges
which the late Mr Asheton provided the bludgeoning guitar work for, however I still owe it all to hearing that first Cramps record. RIP guys. I know you're now teaching Stevie Ray Vaughn and Jimi Hendrix how to properly write a rock song.

I want to thank you for being a nice elf

Well if you were able to read this yesterday lucky you. However, somehow it disappeared during some minor editing. It was about something I am thankful for. Right now I am thankful that I have the composure not to throw this POS computer at my ofc through the effin' window.

Happy "Nu?" year

I know I am little late to the party as I believe this hit last summer, but a damn great tune and a great video. Kinda sweet and sick don'tcha think?


WARNING: SOME ANTI-CHRISTMAS SENTIMENT AHEAD

I did not observe, celebrate or really give a damn about Christmas this year. In the past it was always the day everyone was home from school or off work which made it a nice convenient day to exchange gifts and have brunch, but with no religious significance. Once again, it was a nice day off work but that was all. My mom-in-law who was staying with us since before Sam's arrival and whom is sorely missed flew back home and other than that nothing really remarkable occurred. Otherwise, we stopped at the one local Starbucks that was open and took a nice stroll around the neighborhood. This year we lit Chanukah candles almost every night, said the blessing, and gave lil' gifts. You know what? It was pretty nice, warm and relaxing. We had a small shindig here on X-mas eve, but it was all traditional Jew food such as brisket (would make you cry), fruit jello mold and potato latkes that ruled. I don't feel like we missed out on anything and we took some sweet photos of Sam watching us lighting the Chanukah candles. I guess it was nice not to feel like I had to be apart of any of the Christmas hoo-haa and instead stick with my roots.

I went on two cool rides this week. First I did a solo night ride over at Ipswich park that was similar to what I discussed here. The only real differences were the temperature (it was notably colder) and the mud (there was a lot). Night riding there is just too much fun and I hope to drag someone else out there with me soon. Today for New Years I did a group ride up at Freedom park and met up with a couple guys from Richmond. We hung back from the bulk of the group and played on the obstacles. I was pleased to hear my Richmond cohorts raving over and over about how awesome the trail is throughout the ride. The building of the larger and more challenging lines has finally brought out riders on bigger bikes including 2 other Nomad riders. A great way to begin 2009; happy nu year.

Bag-O-Beast

I am going to confess right here and now so that this testament may exist in cyberspace for eternity. I love bags. I am a bag hag. Maybe a bag fag. Whatever. I cannot deny it. The bags in my life have followed two particular use trajectories. First is the simple "carry-all-of-yr-crap-around-in" bag. The guy's version of a pocketbook. These started simple enough as knapsack when I was kid. I carried my lunch, pencils, crayons, erasers and books to school with these. Although their complexity and size changed as time went on, they basically consisted of a large zippered inner compartment, usually a small outer compartment and two shoulder straps. I rarely ever used both shoulder straps to wear it as a proper backpack as it was too time consuming to wrestle in and out of to get to items quickly. I wore like a shoulder bag with one strap becoming a vestigial limb. Some of them had a handle or loop at the top to carry it with one hand like a suitcase, but this of course tied up a hand that you could be doing something else with. These bags served me all the way into college. My number one complaint with backpack-style bags was that if you had only one strap in use as was my proclivity, the damn thing invariably slide down yr arm either crippling you with imbalance or forcing you to stop re-adjust it. Totally annoying either way. I could still be convinced to possibly carry something as badass as one of these Star Wars packs. Perhaps the Force would keep it in place. Once I got to college I found out about the practicality of other bag styles. I went through different army duffles and Israeli paratrooper bags finally settling on what I still carry today the messenger bag. I have employed this style of bag for over twenty years through school, work and travel. It really has no downsides and there are zillions of different options. It alleviates my complaints with backpacks in that your stuff is much easier to access and the strap stays put over yr shoulder. A secondary stabilizer strap keeps it locked in place and the bag is very stable while cycling even on rough terrain. You can haul a ton of stuff one as well w/o it killing yr back or wrecking yr ballance. There are many great companies that make messenger bags like Timbuk 2, R.E. Load, Manhattan Portage, PAC Designs and my personal favorite Chrome. I have two Chrome bags and have one with me almost always. I love their functionality, but they look great too with a clever integration of a classic seat belt with the Chrome logo emblazoned on the button. Not to mention that these bags would likely survive a nuclear blast. Hellbelly sez "Hell Yeah!"


The second type of bag of which I utilize routinely is a hydration pack. I have always hated having/carrying things on my bike like computers, seat bags and water bottles. I jumped on the hydration pack idea as soon as they came out. Brilliant idea; never having to take yr hand really away from riding and you have everything else you need right in a neatly organized pack. Yes, I have tried carrying stuff in those silly roadie-style jerseys w/ the 3 rear pockets. Unfortunately the gear flopping around in the pockets never feels comfortable and I hate the way they fit. Its mountain biking dammit not the frickin' Tour. I am pretty sure CamelBak were the first hydration pack systems and while I still think their bladders are the best, their bags generally left a lot to be desired. Generally with the 4-5 of them I have had the straps would fray, seams would come apart, but most importantly they always felt like I was wearing a brick on my back. Terrible air flow and their stability was always iffy.

In '99 I did a group ride in North Georgia with the first IMBA trail care crew, Mike and Jan Ritter. It was hot and I was complaining about my Camel "brick" when I noticed the Ritters were running a pack I had never seen or heard of. They both swore by their Vaude Splash series packs. Vaude is a German company that made some very smartly designed packs. I scored one and it became my go-to pack for more than five years. It is the only hydration pack that I have ever seen that uses an adjustable internal suspension system which allows it to have only 4 small contact points on yr back vs. "the brick". The bag was absolutely bullet-proof; I have never had to replace anything and nothing has come apart. Keep in mind this was using this bag year 'round regardless of weather at least 2-3 times a week and often more. I still have this bag and it is in great shape for being nearly 9 years old. Towards the end of its tenure I started to feel that I did not to carry my whole life and a bike shop around with me on every ride. The Vaude although very comfortable is a big pack and just seemed like too much to lug around on my shorter 1.5-2 hr after work rides. Vaude since has ceased making hydration bags and several years ago when I checked out their smaller options I was unimpressed.

I picked up a cheap-o Roach pack off eBay for pennies. Roach had been bought out by Raceface and you could find many of their cool products for nothing. This little pack was nothing fancy and was certainly not anything I would want to take on a long ride, but it worked just fine for my post work jaunts. It was small enough that despite its "brick" feeling design it did not bug me too much. I was covered fro short or long rides b/t the Roach and my Vaude but bigger things loomed on my horizon.

In 2007 myself, Mike, and Mark did our trip to Switzerland as I have previously discussed here. In preparation we received a long list of items to bring including a hydration pack that had to have at least 1500 cu. in. of storage. My Vaude was big but not that big. Our guides recommended the Dakine Apex pack. Talk about carrying yr life w/ you, this thing was huge. I found a previous year model on closeout and decided to start riding with it all the time to get used to it. It looked heavy and cumbersome, but was quite the opposite. It stayed securely in place and surprisingly did not get that hot. It had pockets, compartments, tie-downs and storage for almost anything you could think of. It served me fantastically on the trip and has been terrific. I even rigged small speakers into the straps to plug my iPod into to rock and ride. I do not use it all the time though because it is just too much.

I really became quite enamored of having tunes playing during my rides as well as not being plugged into headphones. I wanted to rig my Vaude pack for speakers, but there was not the room to do it without major modifications. I came across a Skullcandy Link Hydropack which seemed to have everything I wanted with both tunes, hydration and gear storage. Although the speaker system was pretty clever the pack was a piece of junk. The zippers fell apart, the clasps broke and it brought back every back "brick" horror I could remember. Thankfully it was a cheap eBay score. I was able to salvage the speakers which was the best part anyway. I knew that the speakers would fit into Dakine bags as my homemade ones did so I went back to them to find a suitable pack.

Enter the Nomad. This bag has been fantastic in the short time I have run it. It has all of the features of the Apex, but not as big. The design is more steamlined and the straps are more secure. The internal layout blows away everything I have seen out there and the level of organization possible would please even the most anal-retentive cyclist. Its lines are clean and it is a nice looking pack as well. My lil' speaker system fit seamless into it and it shares its name with my bike. What more could I ask for? Maybe more time to ride, but that's life.

"Shaka bra dude, whats cracklin'?"

I was rountinely greeted with the above question many years ago by the manager of the surf shop where I worked. I always thought it sounded stupid for several reasons. 1. We were in Virginia Beach not Hawaii. 2. I hated the laid back surfer mentality that pervaded the town. 3. Virginia Beach has no waves at least not during the summer. I could never figure out why the surfers and the zillion wannabe's in VB thought their shit did not stink because they had little to no surf to act so cocky about.

Compounding my misgivings about the aforemnetioned lifestyle was the zenith of my immersion into hardcore punk and specifically skateboarding. As skateboarding was breaking away from the surf culture that spawned it, it became way more aggressive and the pasttime of choice of punkers across the US when they weren't getting into other trouble. This was well documented in the film Dogtown and the Z-Boys . My friends and I who skated went out to travel around town to find interesting places to hit and tear up and give the finger to anyone who challenged us. We were tossed or run off many locations by owners and cops. Never deterred, we would just go look for the next place to wreak havoc.

Minor Threat: Great DC tunes to get fired up to and then go skate.


I came to really enjoy covering great distances whilst hitting places along the way to rip, fall on my ass, whatever. These epics became routine for me during my time in college in DC. My buddies and I would start up near Bethesda and skate all the way downtown to the mall. We'd stop and tear up curbs, transitions or walls and then tear down some of the amazing downhill streets through Georgetown. Sometimes we'd stop at book or record stores or bars and grab a brew for additional fuel. On multiple occasions after skating all day we'd creep back to Georgetown and get Sushi and Sake all the while filthy, reeking and usually bloody from playing in the street for hours. I found these epics and street skating far more enjoyable than ramp skating. I skated ramps and vert and was okay, but I just would get bored too quickly trying to the same tricks or lines over and over. Not to mention often waiting to get a run or having to snake someone to drop in. The "sessioning" never did it for me. Its like going through same door over and over and expecting something different on the inside. The 1st time is fun, but it gets old fast. The same is true for many things.

Now I ride. I do not "session" on my bike although there are many that do. It bored me back than and it still does. I love hitting nasty lines, jumps, stunts and obstacles while riding, but I want to do them within the course of a ride. I may stop and try a section once maybe twice, but then its time to move on. I don't like to "practice" on my bike and to me that is what "sessioning" feels like. My favorite rides are long flowing trails with many technical sections and opportunities to get nutty. I climb and descend and flow through all of it. If I do not make a section I might try it again or maybe not; its not that important or entertaining.

The most entertaining trail in my vicinity is Freedom Park in Williamsburg, VA. Over the last year+ a number of stunts have been very well incorporated into the trail and more are going in all the time. I am very pleased that the building and design has been top-notch as it becomes very easy for these kinds of things to look awfull or worse be unsafe. As much as I love hitting these spots throughout the trail I believe that they would suck if all clustered together w/o the trail. Sure you could "session" them but interest would be rapidly lost as it has on another local trail where all the stunts are in one small area that is not part of the system. I stopped to "session" a new spot that was finished yesterday out there and while fun, I found myself becoming agitated just sitting around after hitting it a few times. I did not get to ride the bulk of the trail as the sunlight was dwindling and we had spent more time talking than riding. I will try to avoid this during my future visits. The best thing about yesterday's ride for me was seeing and talking with a family who were riding with their young daughter. The mom said that she and her daughter mostly stuck to the fire roads, but they did get out onto one of the fast downhill sections. The daughter excitedly said that she went so fast that her face turned "pale". Now that little girl has an epic under her belt. Cool.

Build it and they will...

...Ride! Yeah, how 'bout that? a 2-fer. Enough questionable music discussions for now. Yesterday I met up with G, a rider with similar proclivities as me and we headed up to the Mineral Virginia area which is about halfway between Richmond and Charlottesville right next to the middle of nowhere. According to the map in the above link its actually near the bustling metros of Bumpass, Trevilians and Beaverdam. Anyway, a rider who goes by the handle BCG (Bike Crazy Guy) owns a nice swath of property with a great house and nearly 4 miles of hand built trails peppered with stunts throughout the back portion of his land. There is something for any rider up there with great single track, man-made and natural jumps, bridge skinnies, drop-offs and two dirt jump rhthym lines. Everything has ride-arounds and the group of riders consisted of a pretty broad base of styles. Those in attendance included myself, G, Petrol, Trail Lummox, Chris and BCG with every kind of bike from a speed single 29-er to a DH/Freeride rig represented. BCG has mad riding skills and he makes all of the lines around his digs look easy...they aren't. Some of the lines are as nutty as anything this side of the northshore of Vancouver, BC including a double skinny drop step-down into a creek gap jump. There are elevated bridges and log rides that are all pretty impressive too. I stayed clear of the hairier stuff, but still had a blast on some of the more tame log rides and jumps. BCG's riding skills are only eclipsed by his hospitality as he whipped up grilled burgers and brats for the whole crew and we all enjoyed some tasty beverages to wash 'em down with. Sadly, BCG has the property for sale as with the arrival of his new baby boy modern ammenities like grocery stores, schools and medical care have become important. Maybe a right of passage could be written into their sales agreement to allow use of the trails ad infinitum for the previous owner. A great fall Sunday afternoon was had by all without a single minute of watching a football game.

Guilty Pleasures; part 2

Some years back whilst I was still living in the ATL a friend of mine who was ridiculously hip, fashionable, my hair-stylist and gay in fact, turned me on to the band/music collective Gus Gus (myspace page). Dance and disco music have long been the butt of many jokes in the rock'n'roll world. Combine this with an electronic techno group from Iceland and it starts to seem like you are conjuring up an old SNL skit. Nonetheless, I recall being at this guy's salon listening to assorted songs from Gus Gus that blasted from his iPod (he was the first person I knew that had one) that he had wired into the stereo. I guess what caught my attention was that it did not seem like background music, but instead commanded yr attention with its heavy beats and in-yr-face sound. The first release that I heard by them was "Attention" . Its still my favorite although I also really like "This is Normal". The sound is pounding yet melodic with crystaline haunting vocals and it makes you wanna move yr ass even if you might be otherwised embarassed to do so. I began putting selections from it into playlists that I would bring to my office. I always received compliments from everyone including this statement from one of my assistants: "That music's gay, but I like it" as she sashayed around the office. Below are a few videos which are at least a representation of their sound. Esthetically, they are kinda obtuse, but what would you expect from an Icelandic techno group?








I guess it is kinda gay (whatever that means) but I too like it.

Can you hear the drums...

...Sherando?!? Ah, how I love a hideous pun. The lowest form of humor. Oddly, even though I have an encyclopedic knowledge of pop music and often have an iPod blaring out whatever noisy crap shows up in one of my playlists, I still fall victim to having some terrible pop song getting stuck in my noodle. Thus the mental audio pun of hearing the first few lines of Abba's Fernando rattled in my head intermittantly whilst riding up at Sherando Lake on Sunday.

I left my cozy environs before dawn (note my zombie-like palor) to head up to RVa to meet my old pal DJ and his pal Ross shown giving me the stinkeye.

DJ graciously offered to drive the rest of the way from Richmond which seemed like a pretty short drive maybe an hour or so. We met up with their friend from Snowshoe, Darrel who was a good rider and pretty amusing. Although Ross had rode here before and DJ had hiked it nobody was exactly sure of the route.

A few false starts and we finally got into the thick of the riding which consists of mostly bench cut ridge line single track up the mountain side. The first word for the day was rocks and the second was leaves; tons of both. There are very few sections of the ride that are smooth and did not require yr undivided attention. The bulk of it is rideable although a few really steep (up and down) or messy parts require a hike-a-bike. The fall colors are in full swing and that made the views rather nice. I found all of the climbs pretty mild and thats saying something since I was on the biggest bike and probably weigh more than anyone else.

Call me a sicko, but I do not think it becomes a real, epic or great ride until someone wipes out or bike parts break. We avoided the former but came away with my rear tire's sidewall getting slashed open early on one of the descents (not so bad) and Ross's front brake dying (not so good). I was able to change the tube and rig the inner sidewall with duck tape to finish the ride. Ross had to hang back and walk some of the hairy sections. Overall it was still a blast, even with our bike's getting a little banged up (its mountain biking, dammit, not bird watching).

I look forward to checking out more of the rides throughout the Blue Ridge corridor including Doughthat, Massanutten and of course Snowshoe. I leave you with another Swedish nugget that I hope gets caught in yr noodle. Ha!