Okie dokie, REALLY meet your new president!

Which one you votin' fer? click here











funny ain't it...

Enough of my whining, meet your next President

This is why I think we have our next President of the United States: Come get Obama'd

Now doesn't that feel good? Just what this country needs. A CHANGE.

Day two, no power

Yes, we were in another windstorm, and are without power, AGAIN. Is this our future folks? Hurricane Cat 5 winds in the mountains (156 mph, never happened before), flooding in areas never flooded before, drought like never before, etc...what's your "natural" disaster?

We embarked on our roadtrip/sabbatical because the windstorm of December 2006 in Seattle put a tree on our house. At the time I remember it being called the 100 year storm. Then about a month later it was called the 50 year storm, and now after the December 2007 storm that hit Seattle, I think it's being referred to as the "Maybe this shit will happen every year" storm. SOOOO we went through one of the windiest storms ever remembered in Pugetopia, we hit the road, next winter comes and another crazy storm comes and floods areas never flooded before in Washington state. Well here we are in the bay area and a windstorm comes through (like never before?) knocks the power out, and they're not saying when it will come back on. Hurricane force winds rocked the Sierra (like never before). Think mother earth is a tad bit angry at us?

Here's my plan. Diana and I have obviously offended the Goddess of Wind so I think I need to appease her in some way. We no doubt will have another run in with her so I plan to offer myself as a sacrifice. Remember the end of Dances With Wolves when Kevin Costner and Mary MacDonald are leaving the winter camp to go and plead the Lakota Sioux argument to the Fed in DC? They're both on horseback riding a narrow path out of the snowy valley and up above them high on a cliff face is Wind in His Hair, on horseback, spear in hand, and he is yelling at the top of his lungs, "Swameny chutonka o watchee!" He keeps yelling this, "Swameny chutonka o watchee!" Which if you're versed in Lakota means "I am Wind in His Hair, do you see me? Dances With Wolves is my friend!" Here the tears start rolling down your cheeks I know but look back at the screen if you can and notice Wind in His Hair. His hair really does have wind in it right there in that moment. Form meets function right? So I'm thinkin' during this next windstorm, depending who we visit next it might be near you, I'm going to climb up a tree like John Muir did during the peak of the highest gust, climb right up to the crown and hug that baby for dear life, and I'm gonna yell "I am Wind in His Hair! I am Wind in His Hair!"

Now if I make it out of that, one of two things will be accomplished I reckon. Either I will appease the Goddess and she will leave us to go and play in the North Pacific somewhere, or it won't work, she will still follow us, BUT, the next storm won't seem so bad to me. In fact, I might go ahead and take a stroll outside just to get some fresh air. Sounds like a win wind situation if you ask me. :)

We're rollin' We're rollin' We're rollin'.

The latest manifestation of the Crosscheck. Riser bar, downtube shifter, 9 gears in the rear, one up front. Is it a 29er? Is it something other? Here's Diana stopping for a laugh break on Bolinas Ridge. Can you smell the Redwoods? Can you taste the salt sea air? By the way, the fencing on the right is to keep the wild mountain lions from attacking. Notice how I'm all the way over there to the other side of the trail. It is a tenuous relationship yes, but man and beast can live in harmony. Just look at George W and ole Dickie "I am the breath from Hell" Cheney. They do it. So can we.

Our home until May

Just a picture post. Have a happy break everyone.

New Post?

I guess it's time for a new post. Staleness. Everyone hates it. You like stale bread? Stale cheese? Me either. Why is that? I guess it's the stimulation. We like new things. Especially when it comes to socks. Nothin' like sliding on a new pair of socks. Which is extra nice when the old ones smell like stale cheese. But what does stale bread and cheese have to do with stimulation? Absolutely nothing. Two different things. Look, here's a new post. It's probably not as good as slippin' into fresh socks, or fresh bread (can you slip into fresh bread?), but it at least should be better than stale cheese. Right? No? Well then bugger off. And oh, no new socks for you this christmas.

Now that you bring up christmas, above is a picture of where we live taken from our living room. Kind of hard to get into the christmas spirit when it's sunny and like 60 something. Well, it's not sunny and 60 something in the picture, it's a sunset after being sunny and 60 something. Clarity is important. Anyway, that whole christmas thing is a little weird when backgrounded by palm trees and surf shorts. I mean where in the hell is that hick St. Nick supposed to land that non-FAA approved sleigh (hello, where's Homeland Security in this whole thing? Seems like Osama Been Shoppin' could easily fly his own sleigh right into my chimney and nobody would give a damn) when there's no snow here? Maybe fat belly St. Nick rides a surfboard in these parts? A nice 10 footer, rudolph up front dodgin' sharks, those little freakin' elves paddlin' for their sweet little lives. Tiny little wetsuits for those dudes. Look like seals to a great white. What a tragedy huh? If those little elves were slung around like rag dolls in the jaws of a 15 foot great white, right off the beach here just before they were about to make landfall. Ever see Discovery channel? When that great white just skims across the water and snags that little seal? Tragic indeed. I mean for both those little elves and the seals. Best not to think about it really. Best to just raise a glass and give thanks that you're not a seal. Or an elf chained to santa's sled for that matter. Poor bastards probably not covered under disability.

But I digress...

So here in Marinland the bay area cleanup continues from the oilspill. The captain claims his gauges were screwy, the Coast Guard claims the captain was screwy, or that the Chinese crew was screwy, or that both were screwy, but it seems they ALL were screwy and the whole thing got screwed. The mayor here, Gavin Newsome, is a real piece of work. Just google this guy. What a joke. He took a trip to Hawaii DESPITE the fact that he knew the oil spill was huge. And the cleanup continues.

But the real reason to post this time was to pay homage. Homage to mountain biking. Okay, if you haven't been following this blog (what's wrong with you?), then you wouldn't know that I got called out. On my last post I was taken to task for some things I said regarding cyclocross and mountain biking. Check the last post and the comments then come back here....Okay, now you see it. WELL, I laid it on thick for sure, and I knew it would have to be real thick to get someone to stand up and say, "Wait, you're a mountain biker, have you no shame?" And someone did. The very person I had in the back of my mind when writing the post, though I thought some other individuals (names kept confidential) would say something to it, but they were either just too slow, or they didn't give a hoot. I knew Adam would give me sh*t for sure for what I was saying, I just thought someone else would chime in before him. I could see him standing back in that dark corner as I stood up on that soapbox preaching, his arms crossed, and I would expect others closer up to protest, but he moved forward and grabbed the mic. And bless him for it baby Jesus. Bless him for it.

His comments gave me a kick in the pants. But before we get into that I have to say one thing. His whole tack on me being the rider to watch was a bunch of horsepucky. This is the same guy that when we were in Squamish (oh how I love thee), and he was on his antique 3-inch suspension bike from what?, the time when 8 track was hip, I think he still has an 8 track in his Subaru (no he doesn't, but I wish he did, that would be so cool, flip it over brutha, flip it over if you want the rest), and we come on this party of four, locals, older than us, 6 inch "big hit" bikes, body armor, full face helmets, the full Northshore get-up, and Adam says, "Is this the way to Black Viper of Death trail?"

I'm in my party shorts, a t-shirt, but on my brand new 4 inch travel bike, the most suspension I'll need for the rest of my life, right? The old man in the group, the alpha male, looks at us, our clothes, then our bikes. Then he says, "The double black diamond eh? Oh yer on the wrong bikes fer that one. You need some big hit bikes." Yup, that's what he said. Well knowing Adam for some time now, and knowing a little how his mind works, inside my head I'm saying Easy now bro, easy. Adam looks at the ground, his bike, and says, "Huh, well does this trail go somewhere fun?" He points straight ahead instead of up to the top of the hill where the Black Viper lurks, and the alpha male says, "Oh yeah, this trail is fun. But there are logs, ladder bridges, big boulder drops, but you can ride around them. We're headed that way, you can follow us if you want."

SO we do. Adam right on their ass. And when they stop to do some trail work, we exchange pleasantries and they point us in the right direction, to where all the big hit trinkets are. Adam drops into the black diamond trail and off we go. Needless to say he was riding all the logs, the ladder bridges, the big boulder drops, all on his bike that wasn't supposed to be able to do it. And he did it with finesse. Which goes to show that it ain't the bike, or the technology, but the rider. Plain and simple. Here's the thing. Adam and I started mountain biking together what, like right after Bush War I? I don't know. Something like that. But we learned on the east coast on some technical trails so we kinda got a head start, though I stopped riding for a long time. Usher in the 6 inches of travel, more gadgetry, and poof, you've got this bike-makes-me-a-better-rider marketing blitz that took over the mountain biking industry. SO that's what people buy. Bikes to make them better riders.

Adam kept riding over those years on what was probably considered an "old school" bike in terms of travel, and he rides all that Northshore amusement park stuff while others sit sidelined watching, looking down at their bikes, thinking about their bank account and the 30+ pounds of bike they just bought and have been draggin' all over creation and back. Scary thing is now Adam's bought himself a bike with 4 or 5 inches of travel (used of course), so I don't even want to know what kind of stuff he's riding now.

So that's the long way of saying don't listen to him. Listen to me. It's better for your health. It's also a way of saying that his comments got me to give the cross bike a much needed rest and break the mountain bike out of the stable for a little trot. Ironically, Marin has very little "legal" singletrack to ride. Most of the riding here is "fire roads." Not the kind of fire roads like up in the Northwest. There are no rusted pickups flying up and down them with meth heads behind the wheel lookin' to tear-some-sh*it-up. No vehicles at all are allowed on these fire roads. Which is nice. But singletrack's where it's at and I think the local mountain biking community got together, pitched a bitch, and the county planners/park agency looked around at their assets and said, okay, we'll let you have China Camp. That's where I went yesterday and it was glorious.

Here's this park that has hand-built singletrack, right on the bay, all of it forested with Live Oak and Madrone. There's a 4.2 mile singletrack trail that pretty much rides along the water the whole way, swerving back and forth, up and down, just throwin' you into a good ole time. There's even a Redwood grove you ride through, and I love that part so much. The riding isn't technical really (sorry Adam), but just good, downhome cooked rolling singletrack through trees that is just fast and fun. That's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

It has been some time since I got on the mountain bike and let me tell you, it was a rip. The thing about all this new/more suspension is that it doesn't make you a better rider, it makes the riding more fun (and it's probably saved my ass once or twice). Riding a mountain bike with 4 inches of suspension front and rear is kind of like eating a cream puff, or a napoleon. If you have one laying around go get it now...okay, now take a bite. See that there. That's what it's like. Light as air. At least that's the way it is on my bike. That baby just seems to float and it feels like riding on clouds. Which is the exact opposite of riding that cross bike, which is more like riding on, well, rocks. And roots. And really hard stuff.

So they both have their thing, which means you need a full quiver of bikes, which is okay I guess, as long as you sell one of your cars. I guess. Well it's Saturday and the trails are calling. What should I do today? Which new trail should I explore? Let's have a look at these maps. Maybe that one right there, Bolinas Ridge. Right on the coast. Runs along a ridge. Hmmm....Here's to hopin' you get out today for a little ramblin'...keeps the bones well greased and the doctor lookin' for things to do.

Hit me with some comments people. It puts a smile on my face when you talk to me. :)