With a BAC of .01%, a cyclist for all practical purposes is
drunk.When a cyclist is drunk, there is
no amount of internal compass that will help find your way out of a casino at
2am.Despite being 2:30am, and despite
breaking the beer before booze rule, I turned to Strava.While it didn’t help me get through the slot
canyon maze of slot machines at the Mirage, it showed the direction of the
strip in relation to the bathroom I was in and certainly produced the most amusing
Strava map of our hiking/mountain biking trip to Las Vegas last week.Note the knotted mess on the Strava photo at
left.If you’re looking for a similar
adventure, get the drink in the tall plastic cup, go clubbing till 2-3 a.m. and
enjoy your 5.5 mile Annie-eyed bedazzled hike up the strip.
Watch for Wild Burros in Red Rock Wilderness
Co-workers questioned my choice of vacation prior to my
departure to Las Vegas. I did too. It would seem like a mountain climber setting
his sights on the summit Magic Mountain.
Like you, I’m one of those weird people who like to swim in pools and see
life in Death Valley. In Vegas, I
managed to put my inner Tourist-hater aside, played a Pink Diamonds slot
machine, danced to Icona Pop at a club and with my white chest and biker tan
arms kicked some beach ball ass at the Hardrock Hotel Rehab Pool Party.
Lake Mead Overlook
Our plan was simple: adventure in the morning, go out at
night. That worked until Thursday, when
night blended into morning and I ended up hiking The Strip. “Why didn’t you take a cab?” My co-workers asked. Taxis are for wussies and besides, my
rational was nothing prevents the bed spins like an hour and fifteen minute heart
rate spiking walk under the buzz of neon and past Urban Campers and suspected
pick pockets.
BOOTLEG CANYON
Overlook of Boogleg Canyon IMBA Trail
It wasn’t the highlight of the trip, but I did get in a decent
mountain bike ride at the challenging Bootleg Canyon, in Boulder City, a half
hour from The Strip near the Hoover Dam.
I rented a Specialized full-boinger 29er from All Mountain Cycles, a
nice ride with Sram X-9. It was $50 for
the afternoon. Bootleg Canyon is sort of
a mix between pump track and flow. On
the east side of the trail system you’ll get an overlook of Lake Mead. Through the canyon on the north side, squint
for a view of The Strip.
Calico Trails in Red Rock Canyon West of Vegas
Once you get the hang of the twisting quick steep ups and
downs of the place, you’ll dig it.
Novice and intermediate riders should stick to the trails west of the
main entrance like the IMBA trail. Those
trails throw much less curveballs, have longer sighting for obstacles and
feature a more smooth flowy ride. The Lake View and Caldera area trails had me
off the bike in a few spots. You can’t
bench cut rock. They don’t. So you’ll periodically come around a blind
corner and be greeted with a section of off camber jagged rock where the trail
should be. I was jazzed when I cleaned
it. When I bailed rather than risk
losing skin, I looked around to make sure no one actually saw me on foot.
WHITE ROCK CANYON
A Whole Family Watches from Above
Despite a trail review mentioning rattlesnakes,
the highlight of the trip came on a spur of the moment slot canyon-esque hike
out and back in White Rock Canyon in Arizona.
We hiked from the Willow Beach trailhead off the main highway a few
miles from Hoover Dam. It’s surprising
how many desert places have wet sounding names.
I found the trail on the AllTrails app which can locate trails in your
vicinity no matter where you are should the need to hike strike you, like at grandma's out of town funeral. The White Rock Canyon trail is a 7 mile
round-trip out-and-back to the Colorado River.
On the way down, the walls closed close enough to run my fingers along
on either side in places. When it opened
up, we were surrounded by a cathedral of 2-3000 ft. rocky peaks dotted with
wild flowers, scrub bushes and the occasional family of big horned desert
sheep. They payoff was the Colorado
River, deep and powerful. We bouldered
up a big rock to a fantastic view of the river’s eddys, only 4 miles downstream
from the Hoover Dam. Hike/climb
downstream a few hundred meters from the beach and you can enjoy a dip in a
natural hot spring. All of this natural
wonder 40 minutes away from the best artificial entertainment in the world.
Do they make you wear a helmet to protect yourself from people throwing things at your head? EK posted. If you were any more of a dork, you’d be a Dorkasaurus Rex. Thanks Mom. According to my so-called Facebook “friends,” many of which wear spandex and use the words 700c and Dugast in everyday conversation, “I” am the mayor of Dorkopolis because I rode a Segway. Well, thank you. I will take the key to this geeked out city with pride for I, Joe Biker, finally found something dorkier than cycling. It’s riding a Segway…and it kicks more geeky ass than a Garmin GPS with a wattmeter. (I'm the guy with the orange sleeves and jeans in the video)
Like Bill Gates gushing over the latest unscratchable glass for iPhone screens, riding a Segway brings out our inner dork. Yes, you are a dork. Look at the blog you are reading. Not so fast mountain biker with the suspension lockout button next to your Ergon grip. Skinsuited cyclocrossers, don’t even get me started. Segways have gyros (not the sandwich) that adjust to your input. Yeah, you wish you had that on your bike, if there were only room between the Garmin and your 900 Lumen LED light. So face it, we are the not cool people. Cool people watch Jersey Shore and wear t-shirts designed by famous tattoo artists. The rest of us wear a chamois pad between our legs and know how to use hand signals.
But, that’s totally cool. Us uncool cycling people are fit. We can wear size 31 jeans. We have core strength from working out while Biggest Loser is on TV. Even though The Situation could drink us under the table, we have balance and focus, thanks to that Yoga mat. While the word Namaste rhymes very well with totally gay, we are way more prepared to survive a Zombie attack than Snookie. As a result, we are also prepared for other diabolical catastrophes like going on a Segway tour of Cincinnati’s Eden Park with our co-workers under the guise of team building. Oh the horror.
I did it and I survived. It was incredibly fun. I resisted the urge to bring my own helmet. They go 12mph. Before you say that's too slow, keep in mind if the people mover at the airport moved at 12mph, the airport's biggest scare wouldn't be terrorism. This may also be as blindsided as the Nationwide spokesperson’s latest deductible revelation; it was a bit of a workout. I felt it a bit afterward. Yeah, it took some fitness to ride that thing. Core strength is key. Move your core forward on your toes and it goes forward. Move your weight on your heels and it goes backward. Balance on your two feet on a platform over the wheels axel and you stand still. See…not so easy. Steering is much like skiing. Move the handle left to go left, right to go right. By shifting your weight left or right or in combination with your heel-toe technique and you can do some fun stuff. When you get the hang of it, you can ride no handed. Much like cycling, being skinnier makes you faster. See, got your attention you dork.
Sound the sirens! Type the twitters! Inside People listen up! This is not an EAS test. It’s not a rogue wave on the Ohio, but the Athleticometeorologists at The Best Bike Blog Ever Institute for Outdoor Recreation have issued an Inland Tsunami Warning from sunrise on Saturday March 6th through sunset on Sunday March 7th for the Greater Cincinnati area and points south. With air temperatures forecast to be nearly 20 degrees warmer than what residents have experienced in the past month, the roads and sidewalks and bike paths of Cincinnati will certainly flood this weekend with a big ass wave of recreationalists. Oh the humanity! Since it may take a long time for those with more girth than most to get the hell out of the way, smokers and those otherwise unfit should start slogging their way to higher ground immediately, or at least away from public areas and thoroughfares. Those prone to get irate with runners running against traffic in the street or who bang their steering wheels and can’t control their middle finger when cyclists ride two abreast on the road should take a double dose of chill pills right now. Residents and travelers of roads such as Riverside, Route 8, Route 10, Round Bottom or any secondary road that starts with a number and ends in the word mile, (for example: 5 Mile) should be on notice for an annoying amount of bicycle and foot traffic. Roads that combine the names of two adorable rural towns (such as Loveland-Madeira) should also be avoided. Drivers are also advised to avoid scenic routes and roads with covered bridges and instead travel roads that normally have the most amounts of cars and highest speed limits. Routes that begin with the letter “I” followed by a number (like I-75) are highly recommended. Additionally, vehicular travel on any road that contains the true to life descriptives of creek, lane, hill, old or shady in its name will likely be impeded. Lastly, pretty much, attempting to drive on any road in the beautiful community of Indian Hill should probably be avoided all together.
At this time, as a community service to those that may be considered “inside people,” The Best Bike Blog Ever would like to offer a blanket advance apology for the amount of what you would call “idiots” on the roads and sidewalks and bike paths this weekend. A mile is 5280 feet, and no doubt on average you’ll encounter at least 5281 idiots per mile. These so called idiots will likely include: runners, walkers, skateboarders, cyclists, dog-walkers and that one guy in town who has figured out how to combine all of the aforementioned outdoor activities into one with his urban dog sled. Those near neighborhood parks should be on the lookout for the errant Frisbee or over zealous unleashed pooch. To avoid the idiots, Inside People are advised right now to stock up with plenty of smokes, butter, salt, cheesy poofs, shortening, Lil Kings, and gasoline at your local Krogers (the “s” added on purpose) before sunrise on Saturday, March 5th. Once again, this Inland Tsunami warning for The Greater Cincinnati area, and other areas south expected to experience temperatures at least 20 degrees warmer than the past few weeks, will expire at sunset on Sunday March 6th. Thank you for your cooperation.
I planned on writing a post today about my daily wrestling match with my baby iPod headphone cord that seems to come alive at night and slithers and twists itself into confusing knots which take me 5 minutes to untangle everytime I want to use them spinning/riding. But, that'll have to wait til next week. Till then, take the poll on the right.
On the way to work this morning, my dashboard thermometer set a record. No, I wasn't riding my Specialized super-cruizer. I had an early meeting which I couldn't be remotely stinky for. Besides it's artic and would take an hour to get dressed and undressed for the 25 minute bike ride. I draw the line when the act of dressing for the ride takes longer than the actual ride.
Granted, I've lived in Wisconsin and Illinois and been in more booger & tear freezing weather, but I bought the truck in '06 in Madison, IN. Super Romper's never seen real cold. As I drove in near the landmark of Saint Rose Church, I watched the guage drop from the 37 degree temp in my garage and wondered if it'd go past below zero. It did. Minus six. The vista of the sunlit steam rising off the Ohio River from behind the church was breath taking. Even if you're not on a bike, sometimes you just have to enjoy the scenery. Minus six can be beautiful. For the record, I didn't see a soul on two wheels. The entire length of the river from Lunken Airport to Downtown Cincinnati looked like this.
The sun is doing it’s best to burn the frost off my windshield and the fog from the Ohio River Valley. Like a human coco bean radiator, I take another sip off coffee and unzip my jacket. There’s always an interesting story Sunday morning’s on NPR. Today, I think it’s an interview with a producer from a TV cop drama, but I missed the beginning where they mentioned the show. He’s actually been to real murder scenes and I laugh when he reiterates the fact that saying “c’mon, shoot me” is about the dumbest thing you can say if someone in real life points a gun at you. I’m halfway through an Odwalla Bar and about a half hour from today’s cyclocross race venue.
Just this past Saturday, my wife and I were spinning and watching the “Pure Sweet Hell” video. Some CX nut from Portland was saying how cross is sort of masochistic. My wife quipped with a smart-assed raised eyebrow, “is that why you like it?!” Caught off guard by her subtle humor, I spurted out something like, “no, I like it because it’s short and really hard.” I chucked inside and we kept spinning. As the yuk wore off, I started to think of why I like cyclocross.
I do like it because it’s short and hard. While I do like racing bikes in general, I’ve never been completely fond of the all-day long endurance mountain bike races. I don’t get excited for the Mohican 100 and Pisgah Death March like I do for cyclocross. Every form of racing is hard in its own right, but for some reason I prefer the red-line racing over the “oh god I hope I can endure this beating for another 4 hours” variety.
But, cyclocross is more than that. It’s the little intricacies, most of the time nothing to do with the actual bike riding, all rolled up into one package that keeps me coming back every weekend. It’s trying to quietly stuff a cowbell in the pocket of my backpack without waking up my wife. It’s loading up the bikes on a chilly November morning and seeing my neighbor tip-toe out to grab his newspaper in his underwear and suddenly realize that someone spotted him in his boxers. It’s feeling compelled to make a sign of the cross midway through evening hill repeats in Mount Adams as I rest and take in the vista overlooking the Ohio River Valley from the gate of the Holy Cross-Immaculata Church.
