The Oregon Outback

Check it out:

Oregon Outback 2014

Rad.  Thanks to my buddy Ward for turning me on to this.  Looks like one for the bucket list.

'Tis The Season

I'm asleep, not dead.  And when a really good bike story comes my way, I have a bike blogger obligation to wake the hell up and tell it.  The rules are the rules.

Read on then, patient and gentle blog follower . . .

'Twas 3 weeks 'fore Christmas
And all through-out Spo
There were rumblings of fat
While anticipat'n snow

When across my dumb phone
There arose such a clatter
I was driving while spying
To see what's the matter

The moon on the breast
Of the new fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day
To objects below
[Okay. This stanza doesn't really belong, I admit. But when you have even the remotest chance to use the words 'breast'  and 'lustre' in the same paragraph within your bike blog, you just do it. As if you owned Nike.  The rules are the rules.]

Glen hatched an idea
That was rooted in quirk
He spoke not a word
And went straight to his work

With keyboarding fingers
So lively and quick
He ordered the hardware
That would do the trick

He was dressed all in fur
From his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished
With ashes and soot
[Okay. I've embellished again. Bad me. But just imagine Glen in this light and then tell me I'm wrong for introducing the image. I'm trying to weave a story here, give me a break.]

Now Pugsley! Now Pug-Ops!
Get out of your crates
You've found your new homes
And it's gonna be great!

With deception abundant
He summoned poor John
Who had no idea
What was going on

The surprise on John's face
When handed his steed
Was the stuff that this season
Is built on, indeed.

********************

So in only slightly more coherent fashion, here's the deal . . .

Glen owns and runs Elephant.  John helps him, in his "spare" time.  These two guys are both really, REALLY passionate about bikes.  I don't pretend to know anything about the business or the details of how they interact, but it's pretty clear that they really appreciate each other and that each others' decades of  two-wheeled fixation and accumulated knowledge and experience have come together to evolve the Elephant effort into something amazing.  It's a huge privilege to hang out in the shop and listen to them talk about what they are doing and what they see as the future of what's cool and right in the world of bikes.

So this past weekend, as I understand it, Glen and his wife Krista are out and about . . . and happen to run across a bunch of fatbikes in a shop . . . and happen to get some wild idea . . . and before you know it . . . two new fatbikes are in the mail.  One for Glen, one for John.  Which is so damned smart . . . fatbikes are still niche enough that's it's three times as much fun riding your fatbike with another fatbiker as it is riding your fatbike alone.  (Although riding alone is still pretty much a bushel of fun, let's be real.)

So Glen went through a few scenarios about how to surprise his buddy, and in the end it was a small hang at Elephant headquarters tonight.  The execution was superb, which resulted in a stymied and tongue-tied Mr. Speare, which is a rare feat. Even if for just the few seconds it lasted.

So cool.

And of course I'm very excited that a couple of guys I really dig have joined the fat fold.  I think they're/we're in for a lot of fun.

Zzzz...

What's a 'chilihead'?

My extended absence, and then this bizarre re-entry into the now-dinosauric bike blog venue, does not in any way diminish by faith in blogging. Or more specifically, in bike-blogging. I just needed to start with that. I think we are all rad, right to our graves.

And with that, I present you with the following non-bike content . . .

 But more on topic to the title then, my friend-at-work Mark closed down his pepper garden last night, and since I had previously made it known to him that I enjoy suffering, he brought me a "baggie" today. The delivery of the Sears catalog doll page on Christmas at the Walton household could not have generated more surprise and excitement. (Go ahead, google it.)

So anyways, he drops it off in the morning and it's all sealed up and I'm kind of watching it all day and it's starting to sweat, inside, and the baggie is getting all foggy, so naturally, when I get home, I want to let it breath. Which I do, right next to my 'puter, while I am busy extending my workday into the evening.

Pretty damned soon though, my skin is burning and my eyes are watering and I'm POWERING through what I need to get done. So I can get it done, and run. Away. Anywhere. And then come back, to the bug zapper that will surely smite me. And I am happy, so happy. Thank you, Mark, for the peppers and for the paper that introduces me to the bizarre psychopathic concept of a dude who is totally focused on how to survive the winter without being able to walk out to his chili garden in the morning and snap off a pepper.

Adventure awaits, painful as it may be.

Sadly,

a large part of the Colockum landscape, through which we toured in April, is now toast.

This rad old orchard that was established by homesteaders and that we camped in is probably char now.

Yes, it's a natural process, but it's still sad.

My Fabulous Staycation

 NOT.

Please.

As long as we've known each other, I'd have expected you to give me an ounce of credit.

But then it's you we're talking about, so how surprised am I, really?

What's actually happening in this photo is that Patty and I recently scored a used tent trailer, and we finally got a chance to give it a proper shakedown in the driveway tonight.

Ever since I accepted my new "career challenge", the demands on my time are insane, and we've been trying to figure out ways to deal with that.  One thing that's clear is that we need to figure out a way to unplug. Another is that spontaneous anything is hard to come by and we have to plan our getaways, or they won't happen.  Time will tell if the TT is part of the solution, or just wishful thinking. You have to try something though.

And yes, it has a receiver in back that you can mount a bike rack to. Hello.

Friday Sesh Report

I was just gonna chill, and not drag out the damned camera. Apparently then, I just couldn't help myself. Speaking of help(ings), Travis was back for seconds. Even though he clearly hates it. How can one not appreciate his sense of duty.

Jeff, who works with Travis, was a newcomer. It took exactly one half of a lap before he was just railing it, and riding the track faster than I ever have or ever will.

If you happen to be looking for the definition of concentration, check out his eyes . . .

Air was clearly begotten . . .

And then we had dinner. After which, the fatbike came out to play and more air was subsequently begotten.

After which, it was somehow subsequently determined that bigger air needed to be begotten, and so an effort in support of this initiative was diligently undertaken.

Rest assured that attention to the appropriate supervisory and quality control resource structure was not overlooked.  In general, I pride myself on running a professional operation out of my back yard, and it goes without saying that if you want professional results, you cannot ignore the details.

This professional aproach ultimately paid huge dividends, as the next series of photos demonstrates. Clearly.

I even got into the big air action myself.

"WTF???", I can hear you saying. I know! Me too!!

Pictures don't lie, though, just ask anyone.  And I would just like to say that even though it maybe doesn't look all that stellar in comparison to the stuff that Travis was doing, it was HUGE. Pictures sometimes lie.

Unfortunately, things didn't end all that well.  I'm a super big fan of crash pics, since they are impossible to plan for and therefore quite the treat if you happen to capture such gymnastics.  Kudos to Mr. Speare for doing just that.

It may not be readily apparent to the untrained eye, but I employed the technique of dissipating my kinetic energy by "rolling".  It may not be certainly wasn't pretty, but I am here to tell you that it's effective, since I now have bruises over just 35% of my body, as opposed the the 85% that I would have experienced had I gone with the old method of pile-driving myself straight into the ground.

Look. There were many great acts of heroism tonight, and I'm not trying to make this about me. But in the same breath, I need to tell you that it was quite the nifty move.

From there it got all super-stellar anti-gravity mystical and everything, as you can clearly see. You'd have had to be there to believe it, so I won't even try to attempt an explanation.

Let's just say that tonight's sesh was a swell way to wind down the work week, and leave it at that.