Wintertime Pump Track Rumination

Not sure about the idealized part - it was pretty damn rad. Maybe it will be again. Not sure about that either.  The only thing I'm clear about is that right now it's definitely not. Rad.

Rackufacture: Reclamation Mods & A New Budget Porteur Bag

There's no popular demand, but the Rackufacture series is back, whether you like it or not. I don't have anywhere near the free time I've had the last coupla winters, but I'm managing to squeeze in a little rack activity where I can.

I guess I'm not happy unless I'm trying something different and about two years ago, I built this nutty-looking job. It's actually a modular rack that consists of a smallish pretzelized portion designed around a specific bag that carries things like jewelry and keys and looks like a man purse but is definitely not, and then a second removeable portion that looks more like a normal porteur deck for carrying bigger stuff like cases of beer and XL pizzas.  Posts on the original builds are here and here.

Some of the rack experimentation I've done to date has worked out pretty well, but this one has turned out to be kind of a pile.  For one thing, the deck is big and has lots of big gaps and is not very useful for hauling bags of groceries or the type of stuff I need to move around the neighborhood.  A good, functional porteur bag might help solve the problem but I've been too much of a cheapskate to spend the coupla hundred bucks on a proper one and I haven't put forth any effort towards figuring out a home-brew solution.  For another, some dopeshit mounted the light right behind the potential porteur load, which totally limits what you can haul after dark.

So it has long been my plan to do some corrective hacking to make this mess a little bit more functional.  I've been able to enact the plan over the past few days.

My search for a budget bag hack led me to Cabela's.

I've been here twice before - once shortly after it opened just to see what all the hysteria was about, and one other time when I was looking for what they might have to offer in terms of bike camping gear.  What they sell just has very little overlap with my interests - the majority of what's inside has to do with getting geared up to go out and kill animals and that's not something I would ever think of as fun.  Nothing against anyone who does, just not my thing at all.  If I had to hunt or fish in order to survive, I would Nike up and just do it of course.  Luckily, I live in a time where someone does all the dirty work for me.  Where I'm going with this I guess, is that through my glasses, it's a pretty interesting walk through this mega-store.

Yes they are all real.

Real dead, that is.

I'm not strictly anti-gun or anything, but it does scare me a little bit about how gun crazy we've become.
I mean, when you can't sell guns fast enough and have to put a first-come-first-served
 take-a-number system . . . well, it just gives me pause.

I do think this is not my last visit to Cabela's in search of some bike-nerd/outdoorsman-nerd crossover gear.  Case in
point is this day-glo hi-tech fabric vest.  I've been feeling the need to make myself a little more visible during National
Forest rides, during which time I'm sharing space with hunters.  Plus I could stash all kinds of cool shit in the pockets.

So anyway, here I was again, looking for something bike related that I wanted and maybe only these guys could help me with.  In this instance, it was fishing bags, and I wasn't disappointed.  Don't they look a little bit like something you could strap on a porteur?

 I know! Totally!  I am so smart.  I scored this one for forty bucks.

Buying the bag was the easy part. In order for it to be a workable solution, I'd need an easy-on, easy-off budget hack mounting system.

In a long-ago post that I don't wish to spend any time searching for, I talked about unraveling one of the nets on
the left and ending up with the righteous roll of bungee cord on the right.  I even found where I had put it.
Then I scrounged up some fender washers.

Few things in life are as exhilarating as drilling holes into something you just bought.

This is the inside of the bag, with the aforementioned bungee cord sticking through the fender washers and tied off.

These are new bungee loop posts.

Those are bungee cord finger loops, for hooking your primary bungee cord loops over your bungee loop posts.
I know you are basking in the terminology.

Stretch and hook.  So easy, even a baby could do it.

Hooked in, ready to roll.

That problem solved then, next under the knife was the light mount.

New mount.

As it should be. (What in the hell was I ever thinking.)

But what to do with the old light mount . . . mmm.  Hack it off?  Neh, too much work.  Why not turn it into a bell mount.

Never owned a bell before.  Oh the joy that must await me.

I thought about maybe sharpie-ing down the volume on the bright yellow embroidery, but hey, these guys
provided the solution.  So for the time being I intend to wear it proud, wear it loud.

In case you are even wondering, please. Don't insult me. Of course my new Cabela's gear will enable me to bag
a half rack. Hmmm. Maybe I have some of that hunter gene in me after all. No, wait.
Bullets + beer bottles = bad business. Guess, I'm a gatherer, then.

All up, I'm pretty excited about these mods . . . I think the bike is gonna be way more useful and therefore way more fun.

Hypmotized

Look directly into my eyes and listen carefully. I am in control, you are powerless. You shall pedal, I shall run. Any attempt to ignore these instructions will be futile.

I'm waiting.

All My Other Bikes Look Funny

It's more than a little creepy: My fatbike now looks to me like a bike should look. All the others look like anemic freaks. I sort of sense that I'm unbalanced, but not quite ready to accept it. So just shut up.

Studded Up, Platformized and Bootiful

I honestly thought we were gonna get through winter in this town without having to worry about snow and ice. I really did. It just took so long to get here that I'd somehow convinced myself that we had moved through and past it. Apparently then, I was in error.

Don't get me wrong - I'm on record in multiple posts wishing, longing, praying for snow. No need to remind me. But it was the light, fluffy idealistic kind that I was dreaming about. Not this real shit.

In the course of the last coupla days, I've been slapped around a bit and forced to deal with reality. I've hit the deck more than once. I have impressive bruises to show for it in places that you don't want me to photograph. Now I remember.

But it's not a bad thing, where my head has adjusted to - it's just where it must be:  Stud season is here. I accept  it: Freeze, thaw, freeze, thaw. Meh. As of tonight I'm back to sporting carbide.

And also, in the never ending internal conflict of platforms vs clipless, my pendulum has swung way to the platform side over the last 3 days, after falling over on the fatbike a coupla times. Which I attribute to not being able to get clipped in or out fast enough.  Fair or not, I'm rolling with that excuse. So platforms it is on all my bikes for now and ever more!  Or until I change my mind.

These are the pedals John gifted to me one day when I was wishing out loud for something grippier for the pump track bike but which I never had the balls to use once I looked at the take-it-to-the-bone nature of those studs.  In winter, with multiple layers and the legitimate need for some grip, they don't scare me quite as bad.

Now that I am fully committed to flats, I needed boots with a stiff sole. Cheap bastard that I am, they couldn't cost an arm and a leg. Fortunately, they were on sale.

So this is now the sum of my bike plan about how to get through the rest of this winter.

Big and little.

It would appear that some kind of adventure must certainly lie in store.

First Fat Snow Ride Report

After all the buildup, I dare not let you down. Read on, then . . .

'Twas a glorious eve! John stopped by and we fat-tired our way acrest the silky blanket of newfallen wonder, down acrost the flowing hills of the southland and unto the den of Glen.  The hang hung heavy with calorific and culinary delight, and the conversational content was in no way compromised. After some time, we high-tailed it back up the hill, albeit with heavily heaving hearts.

Sorry about the lack of pics, but with the quality of prose at hand, do you really even need them? (Don't answer that.)

I arrived home, supremely satisfied and starved for suppination.

But Brandy brashly reminded me that first snowfall is cause for supreme celebration and how could I possibly hang that fabulous orange bike up without first taking my damn dog down to the park??

The fact that my damn dog complimented my bike left me momentarily shocked and devoid of a come-back. So back out into the wild winter weather we went.

No regrets so far. About the bike. Or the dog. I dig the dog and the bike.

It's Coming

Ace knows it.

NOAA definitely knows.

Maybe life's not so unfair after all. I can feel the bitterness beginning to evaporate even as I type.