it's thursday, feels like saturday. life is fucking GREAT.
saw Rehab last night, i kinda feel bad, it was not a packed house, and the venue is small. very small crowd, and kinda lame crowd, which is no fun for the band. i'm so thankful they came to play though, and they put on a great show. part of the fun was watching the strange crowd, good god there are some characters living in this fucked up little town. one guy, who we called "flannel shirt" had eyes of someone who has murdered and raped children, sunken, sullen, and wild. we were sure while others went out for a smoke break, he went out for a murder break. we pictured him saying things like "i killed a man in reno just to watch him die. then i killed another one, just to hone my craft!" kid couldn't have been more than 25, and his strangely shaped girlfriend who we dubbed "floppy boobies" was dancing all over, and at one point he was sitting there and it looked like he commanded and yelled at her to go and dance on the fucking dance floor! it was odd. he was intense the whole night, although while we were on the floor, he bumped into my about three times, which i didn't mind at all, and he seemed very apologetic, sorry he bumped into me. polite. strange guy. probably very nice.
Rehab is a pretty kick ass band. this is the second time i've seen them live, i don't think i want to see them live again. either that or i want to see them live with a crowd that gets them pumped up enough to give it their all. i think they were bored, and i can understand that. if the crowd doesn't give any energy to the band, they are vampires, and the band is flat. the band needs something to feed off of. i can't blame the band, i blame the crowd on this one. i think they still put on a solid good show, and i still think the are a great band.
then there were two brokeback cowboys and their "girlfriends." the girls sat behind the guys rubbing their necks and shoulders, and the guys sat next to each other. i assume they were giving each other handjobs, not quite sure. i would be sitting next to my girlfriend, not some dude. strange.
woke up tired today, but it was such a beautiful day. got on the mountain bike and hit the trails. i meant to only ride a short bit, maybe an hour and half, and i ended up riding about three hours, it felt GREAT. saw some tourists who needed some guidance, so i rode with them and showed them some trails, and they were super fun and happy. turns out our trails are a bit difficult, and i'm actually a really strong good rider. they had minor problems on things i didn't even think about. but we all had fun and that is all that matters in cycling. the weather was great, my legs were strong, i flowed like a river, it was just all around joyful and glorious.
so the last few days i'd been in a bit of a funk, then today i went and rode my bike and suddenly life is the greatest ever. hmm....perhaps i just need to keep riding my bike.
bicycles make great things happen. i love my bicycle. and my girlfriend, who got her hair cut super short today, and later tonight i'm gonna go see it. yay.
now i should probably take a shower. and eat something.
Showing posts with label bicycles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bicycles. Show all posts
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
i call my cat Stinky McPoopsalot
i think cycling can be quite philosophical, many principles and ideas of philosophy can be seen in cycling, and i think mountain biking is a fantastic metaphor for religious beliefs as well.
mountian biking, be it in north carolina, california, arizona, or in japan, seems to follow a pattern: pedal up a steep ass hill for a really really really long time, possibly stopping to puke here and there, at top ride a super sweet wonderful trail that is beautiful and thrilling and fun, and swoop down the mountain climatically on a sweet fast and fun trail. and that, to me, smacks of religion.
many group rides are on a sunday, sort of like church. you must atone and suffer, painfully climbing up that steep and rocky hill, occasionally falling, each pedal stroke a prayer asking for mercy. there is sweat and blood, you are burdened with whatever you carry on your back. but you climb and climb, heavenward, because once you make it, it is heaven. at the top is redemption, you are reborn and given a reward. the trail is effortless, you laugh and are giddy, ecstatic. the view is spectacular. you must work hard to get to a good trail, and it seems the amount of work you put into it is directly proportional to the coolness of the trail. the really spectacular special and secret trails are well hidden and take lots lots of work to get to.
sure, there are fun trails that are easily accessible, but the really really really fun stuff requires effort. nothing worth anything comes easy, and this is totally true for mountain biking. work, reward. work hard, get bigger reward. quite often, the harder you work, the better the view, and the more sweet the single track.
there is an existential side to it all. when you ride, really really ride, you are living authentically. when you are out there, pedaling, sweating, you forget about appearances, you forget about putting on airs, you are so consumed with the trail and the ride that you become, if only for a brief moment, the total you, the true you. when you are tired and hungry, possibly lost, the weather is crap, you reveal yourself, you see who you are and what you are made of. riding tends to break you down into your most simplest form. i've seen cool awesome guys lose their shit when faced with a sketchy trail, i've seen guys who i thought were not much show their true strong awesome selves.
there is a buddhist bent to it. to really really mountain bike well, you must be present, in the moment. have you ever been riding along, and suddenly BAM you are on the ground? nine times out of ten your mind was wandering to other things, you lost focus, you suddenly were thinking of something else, not the trail. being on a trail, especially a technical trail, forces you to live in the moment, again, you forget your worries, cares, who you are, what bills you have to pay, what that jerk on the forum said, and you are consumed with that moment. you and your bike moving as one. it's a special time, because everything starts to flow, you are "on" and it all comes together, you forget there is a you, all you feel is the movement through air, the trail beneath you. it's a meditation of sorts, and pretty fucking close to enlightenment, as far as i'm concerned.
there is truth, simple truth, real truth, in mountain biking. when you are out there, riding a bike, there is no faking it, no lying to yourself or others. you either climb the hill or you don't. you clean that rocky section or you don't. you can have a badass $5,000 bike, look like a pro, talk like a pro, and act like a pro, but on the trail, none of that matters. your bike doesn't matter, your clothes don't matter, your tattoo and soul patch and hemp bracelet doesn't matter. if you can't ride a bike, it shows, and all that bravado and smack talking and chest puffing is gone like rice paper in boiling water.
cycling, especially mountain biking, to me, is philosophical, bordering on religious, and is wonderful.
mountian biking, be it in north carolina, california, arizona, or in japan, seems to follow a pattern: pedal up a steep ass hill for a really really really long time, possibly stopping to puke here and there, at top ride a super sweet wonderful trail that is beautiful and thrilling and fun, and swoop down the mountain climatically on a sweet fast and fun trail. and that, to me, smacks of religion.
many group rides are on a sunday, sort of like church. you must atone and suffer, painfully climbing up that steep and rocky hill, occasionally falling, each pedal stroke a prayer asking for mercy. there is sweat and blood, you are burdened with whatever you carry on your back. but you climb and climb, heavenward, because once you make it, it is heaven. at the top is redemption, you are reborn and given a reward. the trail is effortless, you laugh and are giddy, ecstatic. the view is spectacular. you must work hard to get to a good trail, and it seems the amount of work you put into it is directly proportional to the coolness of the trail. the really spectacular special and secret trails are well hidden and take lots lots of work to get to.
sure, there are fun trails that are easily accessible, but the really really really fun stuff requires effort. nothing worth anything comes easy, and this is totally true for mountain biking. work, reward. work hard, get bigger reward. quite often, the harder you work, the better the view, and the more sweet the single track.
there is an existential side to it all. when you ride, really really ride, you are living authentically. when you are out there, pedaling, sweating, you forget about appearances, you forget about putting on airs, you are so consumed with the trail and the ride that you become, if only for a brief moment, the total you, the true you. when you are tired and hungry, possibly lost, the weather is crap, you reveal yourself, you see who you are and what you are made of. riding tends to break you down into your most simplest form. i've seen cool awesome guys lose their shit when faced with a sketchy trail, i've seen guys who i thought were not much show their true strong awesome selves.
there is a buddhist bent to it. to really really mountain bike well, you must be present, in the moment. have you ever been riding along, and suddenly BAM you are on the ground? nine times out of ten your mind was wandering to other things, you lost focus, you suddenly were thinking of something else, not the trail. being on a trail, especially a technical trail, forces you to live in the moment, again, you forget your worries, cares, who you are, what bills you have to pay, what that jerk on the forum said, and you are consumed with that moment. you and your bike moving as one. it's a special time, because everything starts to flow, you are "on" and it all comes together, you forget there is a you, all you feel is the movement through air, the trail beneath you. it's a meditation of sorts, and pretty fucking close to enlightenment, as far as i'm concerned.
there is truth, simple truth, real truth, in mountain biking. when you are out there, riding a bike, there is no faking it, no lying to yourself or others. you either climb the hill or you don't. you clean that rocky section or you don't. you can have a badass $5,000 bike, look like a pro, talk like a pro, and act like a pro, but on the trail, none of that matters. your bike doesn't matter, your clothes don't matter, your tattoo and soul patch and hemp bracelet doesn't matter. if you can't ride a bike, it shows, and all that bravado and smack talking and chest puffing is gone like rice paper in boiling water.
cycling, especially mountain biking, to me, is philosophical, bordering on religious, and is wonderful.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
we rode like lions
it is 1834 hours in the evening, a cool 85 degrees or so, i am quite drained. drew had a chance to ride a 15 pound BMC and said "hey, lets do the monument." drew hadn't ridden a road bike in years. drew wasn't on a road bike that actually really fit him. drew is not currently in the best of shape. drew has some nerve issues. today was a difficult day.
we were supposed to start around 9:30, as we started pedaling, i glanced at the watch and it was 9:50, and about 15 degrees warmer than it had been an hour prior. the first hour was flat, then we started to climb. it was a 67km or so ride, took much longer than it should have. by the time we were done, it was in the high 90's and the wind had started. it was a difficult ride.
but we did it. drew did it. along the way he had realized he bit off more than he could chew, but the motherfucker chewed it and chewed and and swallowed the whole damn thing.
afterwards we sat at the shop and drank some fin du monde, a tasty high alcohol beer. it was fucking delicious.
i warm a chamois today. i'm not as sore as last time. tomorrow i think i shall do a "recovery ride" and pedal a slow and easy and flat 48 kms.
i really want to sleep. now. it was a pretty damn good day.
we were supposed to start around 9:30, as we started pedaling, i glanced at the watch and it was 9:50, and about 15 degrees warmer than it had been an hour prior. the first hour was flat, then we started to climb. it was a 67km or so ride, took much longer than it should have. by the time we were done, it was in the high 90's and the wind had started. it was a difficult ride.
but we did it. drew did it. along the way he had realized he bit off more than he could chew, but the motherfucker chewed it and chewed and and swallowed the whole damn thing.
afterwards we sat at the shop and drank some fin du monde, a tasty high alcohol beer. it was fucking delicious.
i warm a chamois today. i'm not as sore as last time. tomorrow i think i shall do a "recovery ride" and pedal a slow and easy and flat 48 kms.
i really want to sleep. now. it was a pretty damn good day.
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