AVOID THE BUMMER LIFE

Outliving the bastards one hard-earned beer at time.

Category: bikes

  • Hiding Things from Oneself

    Hiding Things from Oneself

    One of my “ten essentials” when heading out into the backcountry is my Garmin inReach Mini 2. It’s been an incredibly useful tool for getting texts out to my partner (or whomever) when completely out of cell service, which tends to be quite frequent ’round these parts. Aside from the convenience of friendly texts, it provides a sense of security as an oh shit device incase things get real bad and self-rescuing is not an option.

    Downside: the little sucker tends to fly out of pockets as I’m biking down bumpy trails or ‘shwacking through thick vegetation. Using a biner to clip it onto a pack is 100% advisable and I follow that advice 90% of the time.

    Last month I got out for one last bikepacking overnighter before the cold season fully took grasp. My inReach was tucked into a little pocket on the side of one of my handlebar bags and lived there the entire trip–sans clip. The ride was a rough one, both in road surface and in general effort. We were pretty spent by the end of it.

    Following weekend as I prepped for a hike it occurred to me that the inReach wasn’t anywhere I expected it to be.

    Not in my usual drawer of outdoor electronics.
    Not connected to my SOTA backpack.
    Not in my bike bag pocket where I had the weekend before.
    Not floating around in the back of the Honda.
    And not in my buddy’s truck.

    Sure, when we were bombing down that one hill on Day 2 and hit some of the roughest washboard this side of the Cascades, the little guy musta jumped out my bag and bounced his way to freedom. I immediately began looking for a replacement, but it hurt to think about paying for a brand-new one… even though, it’s invaluable.

    I gave it a week. Then two. Occasionally looking through the local Craiglist for postings of a found, or even recognizable for sale, inReach. Nada.

    Well fuck me if just a few hours ago I didn’t go looking for a usb power brick when there it was. Sitting right in the drawer where it shouldn’t be, but I can see how it seemed logical at the time in my post-ride haze.

    All this is to say, I’m glad that I’ve found my inReach. And I swear that I’ll never travel with it unsecured again.

    Until I do.

  • Escure Ranch Wind Plow

    Escure Ranch Wind Plow

    Hit my buddy Keith with the idea for one last quick gravel overnighter. He fired back pretty quickly with a route he’d had in his back pocket; it was 100 miles through some really cool high desert country, camping at Escure Ranch where I had spent a weekend working the Washington State Salmon Run just a month prior.

    The weather was looking prime with temps in the mid-60’s and no rain, but oh my, the wind forecast. And the wind did not disappoint. The day one ride was 100% into the wind and that shit was pushing back at 15-20+ mph. That’s significant when you’re already weighed down with 30 pounds of bikepacking gear & food. Not gonna lie: that was a real grind. The last 15 miles or so was a mental struggle. And then we got to camp.

    I guess we’re not camping alone…

    As we soon learned it was opening weekend for deer season and the typically ghost town empty BLM campground was teaming with trucks, trailers, and blaze orange. At that point, there was no plan B so we rolled in, got some looks, found a spot and set up our tents.

    A light dinner, mild weather, and some shared Scotch before an early bed time. The return ride would be shorter in distance with the wind at our backs. It was a solid weekend resulting in some tired legs and refilled souls.

  • First Activation: Prospect Peak

    First Activation: Prospect Peak

    Naturally, I’ve been spending a fair amount of time looking at the map of my surrounding summits, plotting my next weekend. Prospect Peak W7I/NP-265 was this past weekend’s target; my brother-in-law was in town with his gravel bike so I selfishly plotted a rideable activation and invited Pete, my local riding buddy. The three of us met up in nearby Potlatch, Idaho where we refilled water bottles and watched the near-distant storm lightening and thunder.

    The ride from Potlatch was about 14 miles with 2,350 ft of gain taking us near the activation zone. It was a surprisingly good route with good amount of climbing but nothing depleting. Once we got near the top, we stashed the bikes in bushes and shwacked the last 200 ft or so up to the summit.

    On top I unrolled the Packtenna 20m EFHW, got it up in the air, spotted myself and almost immediately nailed down five contacts. The calls dried up and, without any other bands to work (and with riding buddies starting to look bored), I packed up and we rolled back out.

    This was my 5th SOTA activation and, besides some 2m VHF, all of my HF contacts have been on 20m because… well that’s the only antenna I have. This is something I want to change so that I can work more potential chasers. There’s a project in my future.

    Thank you to my chasers: KI7QEK, KJ7NDY, WB6POT, AG5HV, KF9D

  • Little CdA Bikepack

    Little CdA Bikepack

    The area that Keith and I were setting out to ride was completely unfamiliar to us. I had mapped out a route that looked good on “paper” but with no real knowledge of what were getting into. The satellite imagery suggest there was a good parking area to leave the car, water along the way, and some potential camping spots. This was Keith’s first bikepacking trip, and being relatively new to riding in general, I kept the mileage to a conservative level.

    We set off at about 11am for a 12-13 mile easy start. After an initial 4 mile steady climb we began a long and relatively quick 7 mile ascent. As we were approaching mileage where I had mentally noted we should start looking for a campsite, I began studying my computer map.

    Where were we turning?

    Wow that 11 miles sure went by fast.

    What was our avg speed?

    How fast were we trucking now?

    OH SHIT. GIANT HOLE IN THE ROAD!

    I knew that the next bit was going to suck. And hurt. There was no avoiding it so I just braced for the inevitable. BOOM. the front wheel struck the hole and I went flying off the bike, not completely because my feet were clipped in, but I was airborne.

    After laying there for a minute performing a systems check on my body, I held my arm up in the air with a thumbs up signaling to Keith that I was dead, knocked out, or terribly wounded. Upon further examination of the bike, I quickly realized that the front tire had a bout an inch-long sidewall thereinflating, I then noticed how bent the rim was. It wasn’t taco’d, but tostada’d.

    All good. We had miles in front of us and as long the bike would roll, my jacked up skin wasn’t going to ruin the entire weekend. We pressed on and found a great campsite about 10 minutes later. After setting up tents, I got into the cold Little Coeur d’Alene river and cleaned out my leg and arm scrapes–which was quite fun.

    Now looking at the time, it was only 1:00. What the hell were we going to do for the next seven or eight hours until bed time? It was decided to pack our shit back up and press on. We had plenty of daylight and energy left, so we ultimately ended up climbing the big pass for another 10 miles which led us to one of the best campsites we saw all weekend.

    Setting up camp for the second time in one day, we settled in and relaxed for the evening. I fired up my HT radio and made a couple of contacts, one with a person who was camping in the valley down below and another with a guy who was over in Hayden Lake, about 10 miles away.

    The next morning we took off and finished out the last 4 miles of the climb before descending back down into the valley before, once again, climbing back out to get the car. Stopping partway up for lunch, it was a long slow trudge without much shade… but I enjoyed it. I think Keith enjoyed most of it. 😉

    End of the day, the weekend was a total success. Keith performed on the bike better the bike than I had expected and we concatenated our three-day trip into two. Our packing lists were good, but we both learned a few things (as one always does) in the field. And while I had a nasty wreck that I’m still healing from, I was able to get my bike back into working shape to ride out the remainder of the trip. And I have a spare set of 650b wheels that I can switch out in under 10 minutes.

  • Rebecca’s Private Idaho

    Rebecca’s Private Idaho

    Corrie and I (and a few hundred others) dodged the smoke from wildfires raging in Idaho and Washington to ride our bikes in beautiful Ketchum, ID. The gravel was supreme, the climbs were long, and the headwind was bastardly. Pedals turned and beers earned, as they say.

    I should be better and snapping pics whilst on the bike (as in, I should do it).

  • Le Tour de Seattle

    Le Tour de Seattle

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    This was hashed out over several cups of coffee. I’ll be remote in the Seattle area for a couple of weeks in July and had an open weekend to fill. Rough-cut of the itinerary, starting just outside of Carnation, WA:

    Friday 7/22

    3:00pm – ride to Mill Creek

    Saturday 7/23

    6:00am – Mill Creek to the ferry station in Seattle

    11:25am – take ferry to Bainbridge Island

    12:00pm – check out the bike shop/museum and probably grab a bite

    1:00pm – ride a section of the Chilly Hilly route up to Eleven Winery

    ??:??pm – easy 4 mile cruise to the hotel

    Sunday 7/24

    7:00am – another section of the Chilly Hilly route towards the ferry station

    8:30am – breakfast at Blackbird Bakery

    9:45am – ferry back to Seattle

    10:15am – Seattle to Element Cycles in Redmond

    12:00pm – RAMROD packet pickup & BBQ

    1:30pm – back to Carnation

    +++

    July 30 Update:

    And like that, it’s all over. A lot of solo time on the bike; burning through miles, thinking about life and thinking about nothing. Drinking wine by myself in a hotel room while my bibs dry in the bathroom shower. Being honked at. Getting waves. Sweating the days crashing and nights.

    The front-end of this trip was a RAGNAR run north of Seattle where I did 28 miles within a 24 hour span. The backend was the RAMROD where the ride was something like 150 miles with 11,000 ft of elevation.

    I’m cooked.

  • Albion Loop

    Albion Loop

    Road cycling is freeing. The constant wind in your face, views flying by quickly, but no so quickly that you can’t digest them, the effort and the low-grade fear of vehicles.

    Every ride is a true to life experience.

    There’s a loop around here some refer to as the Albion Loop that starts in Pullman, rolls the hills of the Wawawai Highway, climbs Klemgard hill and drops down into the valley to speed through the small town of Albion. It’s just under 25 miles, takes a hair over an hour depending on wind, and is a real no-brainer.

    When I’m in cycling shape, I’ll do this ride once a week. It’s great for training and tremendous at clearing the mind. Simple enough to do with zero planning but there will be two or three sections that really make you work, and think.

    If you ever find yourself in Eastern Washington and would enjoy a quick ride, do it. Also, hit me up and I’ll do it with ya because I honestly can’t ride it enough.

  • Obliteride 2020

    Obliteride 2020

    The Fred Hutch Foundation (based in Seattle) hosts a fundraising event every year called the Obliteride, with the intent on raising money to obliterate cancer through research. Because COVID, this year’s event is virtual so I planned my own century route.

    Last week I headed out for a lunch ride where, long story short, I blew up the carbon frame on my road bike. I’m okay, but my beloved Orbea is most certainly not. Scrambling, I found a robin’s egg blue gravel bike, a Salsa Warbird, in a local shop that just happens to be my size. That’ll do pig, that’ll do.

    Big shift in the plan and now my century road ride has turned into a century farm-road ride. Considerably tougher on an unfamiliar route with a brand-new bike. What could go wrong?

  • Sonoran Revisit

    Visited the hometown of Ahwatukee, Arizona. I grew up mountain biking South Mountain park, but this trip I brought my road bike and clocked about 58 miles around, and up to the top, of the mountain. Shot on ILFORD HP5.