sabrosa cycles

and cut you like you want me to

2012-01-23T15:25:00.001-07:00

Somewhere's in the neighborhood of about 14 years ago, I was dating a girl. Shocking, I know. We were officially in the "we're not officially sure of where our relationship is headed" stage of our relationship and Christmas was rapidly approaching. I had no idea what to get her, so I ended up settling on some lame Edward Abbey book. I'm pretty sure that I spent around $7.00 total on the gift. I was pretty classy back then. Christmas arrived, we exchanged gifts, and I ended up with a really, really nice pocket watch. She ended up with a really lame book about some gang of monkeys who were armed with wrenches (with the $7.00 suggested retail price printed on the back).

Fast forward to Christmas of 2011 (nowadays folks skip, but I am holding on to the fast forward) where a similar thing happened. I ended up on the receiving end of a really, really nice hand crafted knife.

All Tamer got in return was a nasty case of the hives.

Here he is, right after the unwrap, and right before the allergic reaction set in. Mental note: a mason jar of raw honey from a local bee keeper may not be the best christmas gift. Six mason jars of raw honey from a local bee keeper is just asking for trouble.

I should have gotten him that damn book.

i like my sugar with coffee and cream

2012-01-17T13:58:00.005-07:00

Working on a little something for brother ben with at least 15 pieces of flair.

The new year has started off right. Charlie moved to town and the trails 'round these parts have been top notch. Then, out of nowheres, I got a phone call from JJ who suckered me into running a half marathon at the end of February. Within ten minutes of me committing myself to it, I promptly FELL off of the misses town bicycle (the one hiding behind the orange sofa) as I was riding home from the neighbor's place. As good fortune would have it, I had some clog type shoes on that were immediately ejected during my get off which led to me giving the asphalt a ball peen-ing with my exposed heel.

There are several things to be learned from this experience. Here they are in no apparent order:

1. When maintaining your wife's daily driver, never, ever, ever think that the loose-ish chain will be fine. The loose chain, mixed with my homeward bound, track worthy sprint, ended we me dropping the chain, instigating the death wobble and ending with a jacked up heel.

2. Make sure when you do have a residential get off to manage to control the expletives that flow so freely in situations like these. Mister Hafen, concerned with all of the commotion, came outside only to step right into a thick haze of vulgarity. Add embarrassment to pain at this point in the crash sequence.

3. When walking three blocks home is too painful on the injured appendage, you are always better off getting the chain back on the bike, opening the cantilevers, and limping home with the rear wheel wobble.

4. No matter how intriguing the sales pitch is, anything involving running always ends bad.

To be completely honest, the only thought that went through my head on the way down was, "these are my favorite pants...."

squish

2011-11-30T09:31:00.001-07:00

S stopped by on his way back to Tucson and brought in tote a little love for the shop. The misses has one of them there fancy squishy type forks on the front of her trail bicycle and the fork has been blowing oil past the seals for a while now. I have been known to tear into suspension forks in the past out of desperation, but really, the last fork that I had any business pulling apart was the Mag 21 from Mister Turner. I could throw down a rebuild and add a long travel kit (wrap your mid around 60mm of travel) into one of those babies in a jiffy. What was that, 1996? We dropped the lowers off of the fork, removed the old seals and wipers and had the new seals and wipers installed in about 10 minutes. The tool, that red intrusive looking device up there, is made right here in the U.S. of A. by Real World Cycling (the same feller behind Enduro Bearings)and it is amazing. Sure, it presses in seals. That's a given. The cool part is recessed area of the tool that allow the top end of the wiper to slide up and in which protects it from being mangled during the installation. The laser etched markings on the tool also keep you from installing anything upside down. Which is always a good thing.
Fresh oil, new wipers and seals - that squisher fork is esmooth. Money well spent, if'n yer into that kind of stuff.

the ocean breathes salty

2011-11-29T08:38:00.001-07:00

we gave thanks for the pacific ocean this year.

it's all about making that g.t.a.

2011-11-21T08:27:00.002-07:00

A big thanks to Wes from MegaDelux for his well put together interview. I have had a couple in the past, and overall, the experience has been poor. All of the questions seem to be centered on wanting to know how much my frames weigh, and why they are not constructed of woven carbon tubing and high strength resin. I guess that is the question everyone needs to have answered at this point in the game. This one here was different. And good.
Check out the above link when you've got a moment to burn, or check out the interview here.

lookin' for eight

2011-11-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

cowboy todd, courtesy of miss cheri.

the north country winters keep a gettin me now

2011-11-15T10:14:00.003-07:00

We are north of a bunch of places, but that still might be a stretch.

At the first sign of temps dipping way, way, way down into the 50's during the day I always seem to find some weather to be under. So - in retaliation, I've got my space heater cranked up, and I am loaded with massive quantities of caffeine hoping to push through the final bits of a head cold I have been harboring.

I missed out on a bunch of good riding this past weekend (thanks for the invites) and I am hell bent on not missing out on another.

I woke up on the roadside, daydreamin’ ’bout the way things sometimes are

2011-11-10T08:51:00.000-07:00

A stem for Grumpy and one for the misses. A little Fairey handywork too.

this is why i live where I live

2011-11-07T16:18:00.000-07:00

t.i.g.e.r.

2011-11-04T09:55:00.000-07:00

as in to swing.

czech this out

2011-11-01T12:11:00.000-07:00

The wee german just took home a win from the Czech National Single Speed Championships.

"I thought I'd share with my favorite frame builder that the wee German won the Czech Singlespeed National Championships on a U.S.-built frame. -lugs, anna"

Nice work, Anna. I'll make sure to drop that huge sponsorship check in the mail tomorrow.

buddy the elf, what's your favorite color?

2011-10-31T08:08:00.002-07:00

hotter than a two dollar pistol

2011-10-28T08:54:00.003-07:00

The misses and I purchased a used stove a couple of years ago. Impulse buy would probably describe the stove best. We got the stove home, and soon realized that our new stove took up our entire house. Really, a 24"x24" stove was just too damn big for our living room. So, like any good hoarder would do, we simply left it on the side of the home where it could develop a lovely patina.

This year, the misses started a fire under me, figuratively o'course, and had me looking at smaller stoves. We found a lovely, used Jotul stove that was long and lean that I nearly pulled the trigger on. The only concern I had is that the Jotul would stick just as far out into the living room as the stove we already owned. I needed something wide and shallow.

Enter Cowboy Todd. Not because is wide and shallow, but because he is Pipe/Pressure vessel welder. If something is heavy, steel and needs to be welded together so it can withstand 6000 psi, he's your man. Last Saturday, we got to choppin', and came up with the following:

Wide and shallow, just like I was hoping for. Check out the welds on the side. I couldn't bring myself to grind them - they were just to purty. Todd laid those down with an arc welder. Absolutely beautiful. Now I just need to decide if I am going to repaint it black with high temp paint, or have it sandblasted so it will rust and match everything else in my place. I want people to feel like they need to be current on their tetanus shots when they come and visit.

Let's hear it. Black, or rusty?

Black it is.

you're not just telling us what we want to hear?

2011-10-26T14:04:00.001-07:00

That name is called "recidivism."

At lunch yesterdee with some folks from the day job, a young lady approached me and promptly asked me for $500. She promised that by the following day (today), she would be able to give me $1000 in return. Now, I understand that there is a sucker born every minute, and not wanting to get conned by such a lucrative business opportunity, I decided to dig a little deeper to find out exactly why she needed such a specific, and large, sum of cazash. To my surprise, she wasn't offering me a ground floor position selling amazing snake oils derived from berries only indigenous to the high mountain dwellers near Lake Winnipesaukee, but rather - she just needed a hair cut.

Call me old fashioned, but $500 seems a bit steep for a trim, so I dug a little deeper. Turns out, she is preggers and is headed to San Diego to marry her man who was currently taking room and board in a correctional facility. I asked her if she had really thought her plans through, and that maybe now wasn't the best time to be tying up a knot.

Oh, I forgot to mention that in addition to offering me such a fine return on my investment, she also offered me a new car, a blessing, and a complete physchic reading. I'm telling you, this was all starting to sound too good to be true.

She lost interest in me after I questioned her $500 haircut and her hasty marriage plans and decided to move on to try her hand with someone else. As she was about to leave, she pulled a quarter out of her purse, placed it in the gum ball machine and presented me with the bouncy ball you see in the photo above. She then said, pointing to the red bits "Here, your aura is red."

Strange? Sure. Not nearly as strange as seeing her walk into Benja's Thai restaurant that very same day as I sat with a group of friends over dinner just moments after me sharing my lunch experience. No joke. She sat, she ate, she ran her investment opportunity past an unsuspecting couple. And then, just like she strolled on into the restaurant, she strolled on out. To dine, and to dash. Gone.

Have a looksee who showed up on the local county bookings today - my favorite local mystic.

I can't tell by looking, but I don't think that she ended up getting that hair cut she needed so badly for her wedding day. I am, however, super intrigued by the graffiti charge. All I can say is that I am going to hang on to that bouncy ball.

chitty chitty bang bang we love you

2011-10-25T09:47:00.000-07:00

quote of the week

2011-10-21T08:08:00.001-07:00

I met Meetch at the Navajo Drive trailhead yesterday for a nice little saunter up Stucki. As the day job would have it, I ended up rolling in about 10 minutes late and I had myself pegged in full hustle mode trying to get myself and my bike ready to go.

Everytime I ride with Meetch, he has spread the good word and invited along someone that I have never met. This time was no exception. He was a younger kid (highschool age) and was on a sweet little 26" dirt jumper/single speed. Meetch was on his cyclocrosser that he usually brings on this sort of an event.

As I was strapping on my helmet, I overheard the youngster say, pointing at Meetch's bike - "What are those brakes called?"

I always forget that the cantilever brake has been mostly dead to the cycling world for a while now. I guess that I just have a hard time letting go of it. I'm telling you - there was no finer brake combo than the Suntour XC Pro canti with the Ritchey Logic pads - ever. Almost as divine as the peanut butter and chocolate combo, or even the steel and concrete combo.

How would it be to be born in the era of the disco brake? I remember when purple anodization was the hot ticket the first time it came around. Go back to that link up there and have another looksee.

What brake generation do you belong to?

anyone passing through san jorge this weekend?

2011-10-13T09:39:00.000-07:00

Just putting out some feelers. I need to get a frame to Provo country ASAFP. Any takers? I've got a sabrosa cycles t-shirt in your favorite size to sweeten the deal.

fame, what's your name, what's your name.

2011-09-27T16:03:00.003-07:00

SteveO is a craftsman.

He's been a friend of the family since I joined the lineage of Gourmet Bicycles in 1995. He has been wanting to get down to San Jorge to do a little filming for a while and finally made it happen a couple of weeks back.

I have never been a fan of the lime light and I always feel like what I do in my shop isn't all that special. SteveO persisted and spent the day in my shop with my lovely little family and me. He even brought along Mister SLCB to be the sound guy. This clip aired last night on some KSL based program titled "We R Utah." I cannot say that I endorse it. I guess that it is way better than the "We B Utah" series that never got any traction with TV viewers in Utar. I actually had to go and watch this at the neighbors house last night because we are not tied into any television signals.

Here's the bit. I can't believe no one ever told me that I had a squinty eye. I will be forever self conscience of it from here on out.

Oh - yes, just for the record, I am a Hanson, not a Hansen. Just sayin.

colombia - la tierra querida

2011-09-01T14:25:00.003-07:00

photo blatantly ripped off from here
.

I recently finished Killing Pablo about Pablo Escobar, the Colombian drug trafficking kingpin in the 80's and 90's. Read it. Es bueno. The book will blow your mind. Escobar had all of Colombia directly beneath his thumb. Get your hands on a copy and give it a read this weekend.

For now, find yourself ten minutes to kill and wander on over to the Cycling Inquisition's piece of the world wide web of internets and grab a big chunk of Colombian cycling history and its relation with Escobar.

Klaus, the man behind Cycling Inquisition, is a native Colombian, an amazing writer, and expert on all things pertaining to el ciclismo Colombiano. I'd love to shake his hand and tip back a large cool glass of agua panela with him.

the pump don't work 'cause the vandals took the handles

2011-08-29T09:53:00.000-07:00

i heart espray paint

bus #26

2011-08-25T08:14:00.000-07:00

There was an unsettling feeling when I heard a strange radio approach me from behind during my bicycle commute to the day job this morning. The very next moment, a mirror raced over the top of my head as a SunTran bus (local public transpo.) nearly brushed my left shoulder. The eeriness comes from the pusher engine in the back. Really, these suckers are mostly past you before you even hear them. My initial reaction was to look to the adjacent lane to see what possibly could have kept the bus driver from giving me some space. Nope - wide open lane number two. Thanks buddy. Maybe tonight you can find some time to brush up on some Utah Law during a commercial break. I guess "reasonable and safe" is completely subjective.

I called SunTran when I got myself put together an issued a complaint. I have little faith that it did any good.

Thumbs down to you, Mister SunTran #26. Thumbs down.

i was a highway man

2011-08-23T10:22:00.005-07:00

Official DOT signal green with reflective decals to round out the highway sign feel. A long distance commuter for Racer that'll accommodate a rear rack and has plenty of room for 28s and fenders. Es grande.

curry in a hurry

2011-08-22T07:51:00.008-07:00

-photos courtesy of mitch from good and evil motorwerks

rope an old blue norther

2011-08-12T08:12:00.006-07:00

I was doing a little socializing at a neighborhood gathering and ran into a feller that introduced himself as guy who did maintenance for the city and, as a side note, builds hats in his garage. My ears always perk up when someone tells me that make things in their garages - most folks just store crap in them. We walked down to his place and he took me on the $5.00 tour. Just like he said, he makes custom hats. Custom felt hats to be exact. He walked me through the felting, shaping, and finishing processes. I was pretty impressed. I had always thought that felt hats were constructed of felted wool, but they aren't. They are felted fur pelts. You can go with a more economically priced hat made of a mix of rabbit and beaver fur, or go for the full beaver deluxe version. Of course, I am going to have to buy one, and it will be a full beaver. As if getting a hat custom built for your melon isn't enough, he'll even put your name on the inside sweat band just to top things off. The most amazing part about all of this is that the guy lives around the corner from me. Oh yeah, he also has a love for touring by bicycle. Nice. If you are looking for something to church up your head with, give Jim a ring: J and J Hand Crafted Hats 801-512-6935.

Amy's frame is a set of brake bosses away from headeing to the coater for a nice shade of blue (RAL 5017). This had been a fun frame to build. There was a lot of measuring once and cutting twice that went down. Sneaking 29'er tires under a frame this size can make things pretty interesting. Racks, fenders, shifty bits, sure.

hoagies and grinders

2011-08-05T09:11:00.008-07:00

Mitch dropped by last night to do a little customization to a set of Sportster pipes. He and I have been doing a cafe racer modification to a 1981 Honda CB650 (I know, I know - I'll be flogged for showing interest in anything with a throttle). We removed the original exhaust, got our hands on a set of stock HD pipes and did some chopping and welding to get them to mate up with the original Honda manifold. Mitch grabbed a few shots of me knocking the extra bits off the pipes. I typically don't think that anything involving an angle grinder is too terribly exciting, but these shots sure make it look like something amazing is happening (its all smoke and mirrors around here). Once the extra nub was trimmed off, I welded a patch over the hole. Really, if you have never stripped a moto down to a frame before, you ought to. They are nothing more than a bicycle under all that fluff. Oh yeah, with an internal combustion engine strapped to them.

the brigadier

2011-07-18T07:25:00.006-07:00

photos courtesy of mitch from good and evil motowerks.

we don't smoke marijuana in muskogee

2011-07-14T07:46:00.003-07:00

A couple of shots for Amy in OK. Generally, I am a swoop the other direction kind of a feller, but amy was hoping for a little extra standover mixed with a little easier to throw a leg over functionality. I actually really like the look of this little frame.

how much did you pay for your bad moto guzzi

2011-07-11T07:25:00.001-07:00

30 mph has never felt so fun. Of course its orange.

i'll be wearing your tattoo, yes.

2011-07-05T08:04:00.003-07:00

I bumped into a feller (D.) down at the local moto shop who was wearing a Shepard Fairey Obey t-shirt which caught my eye. We chatted a bit about street art and how much I really dig Fairey and Banksy's work. Turns out, this fellow at the moto shop does his fair share of street art (not that san jorge would tolerate it - shoot, I can't even have chickens in my yard). After seeing some of his work, I took scottypants new frame to him for a little flair. Have a looksee:

The only instruction I gave to D. was that I wanted the frame to look like it had been left in the wrong part of town overnight. I am pretty pleased with how it turned out. I think scottypants is too.

The best part of the entire experience was that my child barfed down the back of my neck and all over the moto shop floor when I went to pay D. Seriously, I had chicken nuggets in my hair. Awesome. Even with my attempts to try and position myself into the most absorbent position possible, the youngster still managed to hit and cover a fair stretch of commercial carpeting in the shop which D. graciously cleaned up for me. What a stallion. I hope that they'll let me back in. I could use a new tire for the Trail 90.

sticky dirt

2011-06-27T08:09:00.001-07:00

The kind where you can rail through a corner as fast as you dare and the tires still hook up. I don't partake of the Utah County riding very often, but when I do, I remember how good it can be - 'specially if'n you mix a few of these in:

some stems are longer than others

2011-05-26T06:59:00.001-07:00

I whipped up a stoker stem for Streeter's tandem, and yes, that is 205mm of length and 48 degrees of rise. I blush every time I see it. Streeter likes to count himself some grams, so the extra cutouts in the clamp areas are to lighten things up some.

I really like the seattube clamp - this is exactly how I imagine the misses looking when we hit 70 mph during a decent off of Woodland Hills Drive on a borrowed Santana tandem. Mouth open in horror and eyes bugging out. Perfect.

Mitch stopped by last night, picked the stoker stem off of my work bench with one hand, and exclaimed, "yep, that feels about right."

lenny bruce is not afraid

2011-05-20T10:00:00.007-07:00

Photo graciously lifted from "here".

I'm sure that you have already heard the latest and greatest prediction from this civil engineer. Engineers are dorks - seriously. Check out this feller's logic in numbers. I love numbers and I am still confused.

From the wiki:
According to Camping, the number five equals "atonement", the number ten equals "completeness", and the number seventeen equals "heaven".
Christ is said to have hung on the cross on April 1, 33 AD. The time between April 1, 33 AD and April 1, 2011 is 1,978 years.
If 1,978 is multiplied by 365.2422 days (the number of days in a solar year, not to be confused with the lunar year), the result is 722,449.
The time between April 1 and May 21 is 51 days.
51 added to 722,449 is 722,500.
(5 × 10 × 17)^2 or (atonement × completeness × heaven)^2 also equals 722,500.
Thus, Camping concludes that 5 × 10 × 17 is telling us a "story from the time Christ made payment for our sins until we're completely saved."

What? I really, really love the squared bit. Nice touch. The only thing that would have sealed the deal for me is if he would have somehow thrown in a little Pi. Everyone loves Pi. 5x10x17? Wouldn't that be May 10th, 2017 anyway? I guess I am really just bothered about those 4 decimal places of significant degits(365.2422) not being represented in the 722,449. This guy has the rapture predicted right down to the hour, and those digits aren't important? I guess if we are going by the TLAR method (That Looks About Right) it's close enough. Let's just hope that I am close enough to make the cut - give'r take a thousandth or two.

I'm hoping that if his numbers really do add up, that I am swept to a place filled with sunny days, carne asada nachos from Jalapenos, a fat tired one speed bicycle, and miles and miles of this:

But, I guess if'n I don't make the cut (3% odds aren't too much to shout about), I'll just end up at Russell's for a pig roast on Sunday. That sounds pretty good too. It doesn't matter where you end up, as long as you have friends there.

bullet the blue

2011-05-16T13:25:00.000-07:00

Westy and I got our epic on this past weekend. Check it here.

i've got my spine

2011-05-03T07:54:00.004-07:00

brace yourself

2011-04-18T12:34:00.004-07:00

Find yourself four minutes and forty-five seconds of time and listen to this from the left end of the dial. I am a sucker for Science Friday, but this episode had me questioning everything that I have ever believed in. Well, nearly everything. I will never, ever question the deliciousness of a certain snack cake confection known as the Chocodile. And, if you still need positive proof that Wikipedia isn't always the most reliable source for information, just read through that Chocodile link and you will see that they identify the confection as being a "chocolate covered Twinkie." Blasphemy. The cakes are completely different. My blinders are up. I'm not about to drink from their Kool-Aid bowl. Honestly, can you think of a finer paraffin wax based treat?

Bradly from Capricorn posted a lovely link to some video footage of the Science Friday report. Check it and his bicycles out.

mixte feelings

2011-04-07T08:35:00.004-07:00

true GRIT?

2011-03-28T15:29:00.001-07:00

I did not partake.

The weather did not cooperate. I know - I had 3 yards of concrete on the ground getting ruined.

First off - I understand that there is a TON of work that goes into organizing an event of this stature and this certainly is not a personal attack on Cimarron. Folks who promote bicycle riding always get a thumbs up from me.

Folks are upset. Have a look at Adam's corner of the internets. I'm upset, but for a completely different reason than Adam. I tiptoe around trails in the area that I know do not drain well after a rain storm. The Green Valley Loop (Bear Claw Poppy) is hammered from riders hitting it when it is wet. Stucki has remained intact just because it is not easy to have your mom drop you off at the top of for some sweet downhill sessions. Really, there are very few trails in the area that aren't super susceptible to erosion when wet.

Right from the Gro-Promotions web page this, and this are discussed:

"Remember the desert is a fragile place, try to only pass when there is room, try to wait for a wide spot in the trail and try not to create unnecessary widening of our single track."

"to showcase the amazing terrain and extensive network of trails found in Southwestern Utah to new riders."

Two words Gro-Promotions - Contingency Plan.

Having an established Plan B for when something unavoidable rears it's head ought to be a given. What a shame that the trails that I care for the most got an ass kicking this weekend.

Yes, steps were taken to try to help the situation, but I am afraid that they were implemented way too late in the game. The weather reports were dead on. Something should have happened before the trigger was pulled.

Sharpen up those shovels Gro-Pro and start mending the trails that you just showcased. Remember, the desert is a fragile place.

i like charlie daniels. i like big john cash

2011-03-24T14:41:00.010-07:00

TroubleMaker's new pony left the shop last weekend and headed to the platers for a copper finish. I can hardly wait to see it bright and shiny like a penny.

TM and I have been talking about a dedicated baseball trading card holder for about 5 years now - and I tell you, if the wheel is spinning just right, you'd swear you were riding a V-Twin.

Chicken update:

I am pretty sure that the neighbor's wandering pit bull (also in violation of the city oridinances) is in cahoots with the City of San Jorge. Since the notification of my illegal chickens, the roaming dog has killed two of my four hens. Awesome. The last one he just mangled real good, and left it for me to finish off. Yes, I cried. I am a sissy. What a son of a bitch. No really. The dog is.

Last night, we transported the remaining two hens to a friends house in Diamond Valley where there are no chicken restrictions. Have I given up? That's a negative, ghost rider. I am currently in the process of jumping through the variance hoops. Wish me the best. I never figured that I would be an activist for a couple of hens. How ridiculous.

Also, after my telephone conversation with Mr. Turner, Code Enforcement officer extraordinaire, I received an additional letter in the mail informing me that not only did my chickens have to go, but my gravel driveway was not acceptable. As per 10-19-4 Residential Area Requirements:

D. Parking Vehicles on Front Lawns or Setback Areas: Parking vehicles on front lawns or in the front setback or street side setback areas is prohibited, except on approved paved (concrete or asphalt) driveways. (Ord. 2003-01-003, 1-9-2003; amd. 2003 Code)

No joke. Gravel just ain't gonna cut it here.

I spent a week at an enginerding conference and positioned myself at the same lunch table as all of the city engineers and chatted them up a bit. Apparently my little letter to the mayor (who still has not responded - thanks, Dan) has made it's way around the city offices and all of the engineers knew me affectionately as "The chicken guy." They also tipped me off about the driveway issue. Whatever. I will just park my beetle on the street. Shoot, it's registered.

Here's the best part - The city requires that the driveway be an approved concrete or asphalt surface - and no other specifications are given. Since I have made friends with the head of the public development services engineer, I sent him this little number:

Sir,

I am hoping that you can direct me to where I might find a delineation of what an approved concrete driveway consists of. I would really like to put in something a little more runoff friendly which would involve some vegetation. We were thinking of installing 2’x2’x4” concrete pavers placed with 4”-6” gaps between them and planting Creeping Thyme (a water efficient ground cover) between the pavers.

Would you please verify with the powers that be and let me know if the city will give me the thumbs up on this? I would really hate to get it installed and then have Mr. Turner not like it.
-----------------

In response to me questioning again after a week or so of not hearing back, he replied:

Jon:

I am not satisfied with the answer I received so I am pushing the issue. Hopefully I will know more today.

St. George City Community Development Department

Cross yer fingers. Sometimes living on a main drag through town sucks. I can hardly wait until I meet Mr. Turner face to face so I can give him a big kiss right on the mouth. You've gosta love folks like this - they thrive on people hating them. Maybe he just needs a hug. Who knows.

she's terribly partial to the periwinkle blue, boys

2011-03-15T12:25:00.002-07:00

A rare siting of a 26" wheeled sabrosita in the heart of canyonlands. I totally lifted this photo from zie vee german's portion of the internets.

Yes, I am very aware that my contributions to this portion of the internets have been sparse at best. I'd be lying to you if I told you that blogging was my top of my priority list (is blog a verb? to blog? blogeamos?) The day job has been busy (which is a good thing), the city of San Jorge still has me in their cross hairs over a couple of chickens and a non-approved driveway surface (which is a ridiculous thing), and the studio continues to get busier and busier.

Here is just a smattering of what is teetering on the tippity top of my ginormous heap of things to accomplish. This is mostly for me, but hey, I've heard that you are more likely to see your goals come to fruition if you write them down. I am constantly reminding myself to take small bites and to be sure to chew. Maybe I just need a bigger funnel.

Get the stainless dropout faces brazed onto TroubleMaker's frame.
Wrap up TM's stem by this weekend so it can accompany the frame and fork to the northern land after his visit this weekend to the sunshine.
Deliver Fisher's disc brake adapted frame and fork to the powdercoaters.
Install brake bosses onto the misses' mixte (yes grumpy, I added the extra seat stays).
Whip up a stem for the mixte and if'n I magically land into a bunch of time, fab up a front rack to go with it. I'm trying to talk the misses into going with a light urple, or perhaps some periwinkle blue.
Finally get to coping out some tubing for the Bone Crusher.
I would really like to sneak a new cross frame in somewheres for myself. I have my fingers crossed. Ha. Wow. Sorry.

The list could go on for days. I need to start chewing. Laters.

networking here, boss.

2011-03-09T09:10:00.001-07:00

I am in the market for a trail-a-bike, or a tag-a-long, or whatever other creatively-labeled-attach-to-an-adult's-bicycle-kid's-bicycle. If you have one, or know of one that is taking up precious real estate in the garage, let me know and name your price.

NAHBS? nah.

2011-02-25T08:41:00.008-07:00

sometimes you get slivers when you hug trees

2011-02-24T11:17:00.002-07:00

Mayor McArthur,

My wife and I purchased a home in St. George two years ago on the corner of Diagonal and 400 North. We absolutely love the area, our community and our home.

We received a letter from Code Enforcer Officer, Mr. Turner, early this week in the mail informing us that the unregistered vehicle parked in our driveway is in violation of ordinance 10-7B-6D. While I may not understand why an unregistered vehicle in my driveway is of any concern to the city, I do understand that ordinance has been given to keep our communities beautiful and is simply being enforced by your employee performing his assigned duties.

I spoke with Mr. Turner on the phone this morning with questions and concerns regarding the code violation and he expressed gratitude that I had called and informed me that I was also in violation of ordinance 10-7B-2. My 7665 ft2 lot did not meet the necessary 10,000 ft2 area requirement for chickens.

These, most certainly are difficult economic times and my family and I are doing our very best at this point to keep our mortgage paid, to keep ourselves out of unnecessary debt and to keep our heads above water. The unregistered, but otherwise functioning vehicle parked in our driveway is unregistered because we felt that limiting ourselves to one car for the time being would be more financially prudent. We also supplement our grocery needs with the eggs that our four hens provide us with, including relying on them to help keep our garden free from pests.

With a heavy heart, I will be selling the vehicle within the two week period given to me by the code enforcement officer, but I plead that you allow me to keep my four hens.

Like I mentioned before, I understand that these are ordinances that must be enforced, and that Mr. Turner is performing his assigned duties. I know that you are a reasonable man and may be able to see these violations from a blue collar worker’s point of view. Yes, my lot falls shy of the minimum lot size requirement but my hens are quiet and discrete and probably would have remained unnoticed if a registration sticker hadn’t caught they eye of a perceptive code enforcement officer.

Mayor McArthur - the car will be removed from my driveway, but please, allow my hens to remain unnoticed.

Regards,

pueblo waltz

2011-02-22T11:33:00.011-07:00

The weather in Tucson was amazing if you happen to enjoy 40 mph wind gusts and cold rain. Sure, 40 degrees probably isn't what a lot of folks would classify as cold, but us cold blooded animals sure don't care for it.

We arrived on site on Thursday afternoon and soaked up what was left of the good weather. The moon was out and casting shadows. Friday evening was spectacular. I have never seen so many people drop what they were doing to pull out cameras for a sunset photo. The weather got progressively worse until about midnight on Saturday.

Not racing has a lot of perks. I jumped in with the misses, JT, and Duane and for the cattle drive. I always seem to get roped into the run when I race these events, and I really, really enjoyed running it this year with shoes that didn't have cleats attached to the soles. I am always surprised that no one ever gets trampled.

The wind was intense. Support crews were running around trying to keep awnings from getting shredded. The rain settled in with the darkness and things got pretty ugly for several hours. The misses came in soaked to the bone and shivering. She was struggling to get food to stay down. She lost quite a bit of time trying to regroup after the rain, but still managed to find her determined hat and kept riding.

I snuck out for 3 laps with her to give her some conversation and I really had a great time. These shots of her are on her 11th lap (somewhere in the vicinity of 180 miles of dirt). I am amazed that people sign up for this sort of punishment.

By far, the best shot of the event. I guess when you have been out on the bike too long, you forget that you have a helmet that might be in the way when you try to remove a layer. Being the loving and caring person that I am, I made sure to document the moment in photo format.

Last shot on the victory lap. I am mighty proud of the girl. She was a little bummed about being one lap behind last year's finish, but I'm telling you - 11 laps is no joke when you are staring down some epic weather.

My hat is officially off to all friends of sabrosa who went out and represented. JT dug way deep into his soul and pulled off an impressive 3rd place finish in the men's single speed category. He was so partied out after his last lap, he slept through the awards ceremony. When we left for home, I felt like I was leaving a soldier behind. He had crazy in his eyes. 13 laps. I will surprised if his knees are ever the same again.

Westy, ChrisP, Duane and Curt rode through some difficulties (broken GF Rig frame, scratched cornea, broken seat post), pulled themselves together, and finished top ten in the stacked singlespeed mens category. 17 laps.

Dave rocked 15 laps all by his darnself. Unbelievable. Finished top 5.

When the misses and I arrived after her last lap around 1:45pm, the awards ceremony had already started. Her laps on the www don't add up, but we all know - This one goes to eleven.

Race Standings:

The Misses

Sons of the Red Sand

Team Dave

We really missed our Siren friends. The family reunion just ain't the same without you. Maybe we can twist your arms into a little Tour de Toroweap in April?

it's custom.

Top Five. Let's Have 'em.

2011-02-09T09:25:00.000-07:00

Of what? Anything. Your top five in anything that suits you. Movies, music, tires. Whatever.

Back to the Future
Raising Arizona
Shawshank Redemption
Waking Ned Devine
Oh Brother Where Art Thou

Sorry for the Coen Brother favoritism.

howe, we miss you

2011-02-04T09:59:00.003-07:00

Sometimes you get phone calls that you'd rather not get. I've shared many a laugh with Howe and I guarantee that you will never find a more giving friend. Enjoy some heavenly singletrack for me and at least one hardy helping of chicken fried steak.

KP, Scottypants, Cowboy Bill, and Quinn - sure love you fellas.

so who's in this pentaverate?

2011-02-01T08:24:00.001-07:00

twins

2011-01-26T13:53:00.010-07:00

I had a hiccup in some tube ordering and ended up with a night open in the shop for a little extra curricular metal work and decided to throw a little elbow grease onto the misses fork for her new town bicycle. I decided to build something similiar to the fork I built for SLCB's town bicycle.

Here are a few shots of the top plate fabrication:

like a fiend with his dope and the drunkard his wine

2011-01-17T14:00:00.005-07:00

I can't quit this Volkswagen addiction. There must be a 12 step program out there for me, somewhere.

The misses and I attended a little holiday gathering with the Doctor for whom she hands fancy surgical apparatuses (not apparati) and applies 30 weight gauze. He's a big fan of his daily driver of a Porsche Carrera, which automatically lead me into believing that he would be remotely interested in air-cooled Volkswagens. They are first cousins, after all. Nope. Not interested. He seems to be mostly interested in, well, himself. I pressed forward with my conversation about air-cooled Volkswagens. That is what fanatics do. I remember saying something about how my car takes effort to drive when he interrupted and asked me what I meant. "What do you mean, the car takes effort to drive?" Well, it does. You have to know all of the car's personality traits. You have to know how and where it likes to be stroked. There are times when you have to be able to run the brake and the accelerator pedal simultaneously with one foot, while the other manages the clutch. You have to know when the car is decelerated to the proper speed before you just go and throw the damn thing into second gear from third. Above all, after your car has successfully passed the State of Utah Safety Inspection, you need to remember to remove the air hose that is attached to your spare tire, that supplies pressure to your window wiper fluid reservoir, so you have a spare tire with air in it when you get a flat 2 weeks later.

This is what I mean. There is effort involved.

Folks like this feller, who jump in their cars and completely expect them to start every morning really ought to be forced to drive a beetle for a year so that they can fully appreciate reliability. I hold my breath every time I turn the key. I guarantee that the only effort that goes into driving his Porsche is getting the rear view mirror adjusted so that it obscures his bald spot.

I can't seem to manage to get my car to idle (thus the comment about running the brake and accelerator with one foot). I consider myself to be a smart enough feller to figure it what the problem is. This is a single barrel carburetor. I understand that it is either getting too little fuel, or too much air. I have completely rebuilt the carb. I have checked for air leaks. I have adjusted the fuel intake. You'd think that with only two adjusting screws that I would have had it figured out by now.

The car takes effort. I now understand why there is such a fine line between love and hate. I am going to give it one more college try before I raise the white flag of defeat and take the car down to Ozzy at the local garage.

If you haven't started yet, don't. Find a clean, one owner Corolla and call it a day.

Aha. Shake.

2011-01-12T10:01:00.006-07:00

A couple of really crumby shots of TroubleMaker's front triangle. Yes. You are right. I started this frame about a year ago. Okay, more like three months or so ago. Time is fun when you are having flies.

#8 bars @ 12" o.c. each way

2011-01-11T11:40:00.003-07:00

Vertically stiff, laterally compliant. Wait. No. Maybe horizontally stiff and longitudinally compliant. I get so confused.

This morning's commute was on the brisk side. 29 degrees Fahrenheit is cold for us southern folk. Shoot, water based items tend to freeze at that kind of temperature. There was a time (in my northern days) when I would commute 8 miles each direction in the teens and not be bothered. Now my lungs burn, my head aches and I long for the comforts of the +110 degree days of summer. Did I mention that my commute is 3 miles? I am a sissy. I know.

29 degrees is way too cold of a temperature for road rash. Way to cold to be broadsided, for sure.

I was in the final approach to the day job. I had already tackled the most dangerous part of my commute which consists of a left turn onto four lanes of traffic, two of which turn into a freeway on-ramp, and the other two continue south. That places me right in the middle folks in a hurry to get on the interstate, and folks in a hurry to get to the thing they hate the most (their day jobs). Just as I crested the top of the interstate overpass I looked ahead to see that the stop light at the bottom of the hill was a green one. I wound up the one speed, non-coaster and was on my way through.

Introduce Commuter Number II to the scene. He is bundled up in full winter garb and I wouldn't be surprised if he would've had goggles on. He is riding a full suspension department store bicycle and is riding in the cross walk, on a red light with his head down. Figuring that he was playing frogger, waiting for me to pass so he could sneak the rest of the way across the intersection, I continued onward. As I neared the cross walk, I became very aware that he did not see me, and was not stopping. I gave him a holler, which slowed him, and I swerved just in time to miss the collision. I am sure that he spent the rest of the morning in the office toilet washing his pants out in the sink.

There you have it. I was nearly run down by what Chad refers to as a Pedicyclist. Folks, on bicycles, who cannot decide if they are pedestrians, or cyclists. These are the folks that make erratic moves in traffic (riding through cross walks, for example) and make motorist hate cyclists because they can never guess what move the Pedicyclist is going to make next. College towns seem to have high concentrations of them.

discoteca

2011-01-10T08:45:00.005-07:00

Fisher's pony is in the shop for some new fangled stopper upgrades. I purchased a slotted disc brake mount from Pacenti a while ago, but it only had 15 pieces of flair. I wasn't getting the feel that I wanted. I decided to bastardize one of my dropouts and ended up with something like this:

Patriarch

2011-01-06T09:35:00.003-07:00

A couple of years back, I was contacted by a good friend who was looking to surprise his dad with a custom frame to ring in his 60th year. I betcha that at least one of you three readers that stop by here remember this little number. The Patriarch is a tall drink of water and he had spent years in the cycling scene on bicycles way too small for him. I can't think of a better birthday gift. Honestly.

Fast Forward a year or two and this gem pops up in the inbox:

Hey Jon,

I finally made it home to Ohio and saw my dad's bike for the first time. It's pretty sweet. The bike doesn't really fit me, but it was fun to pedal it around. It felt like one of the sportier cadillacs, comfy and fast. My dad really loves that bike. During the spring, summer and fall he probably rides 60-70 miles a week, not bad for an oldtimer. Just wanted to again say thanks for building it for him. He told me he loves it when he's pushing a pace line in a group ride and the young guys on their Madones fall off the back.

Thanks again buddy.

CowboyBill

I am still suffering from the rotator cuff injury I sustained after my last aggressive self applied back patting, so I really enjoy back pats from other folks. The bit about the Madones is just cream to the coffee. Thanks cowboy.

brand new, it's brand new for you

2011-01-03T11:49:00.003-07:00

The folks at Paragon Machine Works have their finger firmly placed on the pulse of the bicycle frame building world.

Check this:

I have always offered up the disclaimer that sabrosa built stems are not the best choice if you plan on running a carpet fiber handlebar - the single binder bolt is a carbon bar crimper and destroyer. I am not a huge fan of removable face plate stems (strictly an aesthetic preference), but they are very functional, and they spread the clamping force over a larger area to avoid the crimping of carbon bits. I have made removable face plate stems in the past but they always turned out gaudy and unnecessarily heavy. This will be an amazing solution to anyone hoping to run some ENVE handlebars on their next sabrosa stem.

Oh yeah, did I mention that ENVE Composite products (The artist formerly known as Edge Composites) are now available with the purchase of a frame? I think that I just lost a major foothold on the slippery slope that I have been toeing. I expect an intervention of some kind in my near future.

My official nod to Paragon. Nice work fellers.

and for a minute there, i lost myself

2010-12-30T14:55:00.008-07:00

I feel like I am getting close to being back on track. This holiday stuff throws me a curve ball every year.

Like I stated before, I completely underestimated the time I was going to need for a little Christmas something for the misses this year. Honestly, I draw these things up and they look so easy and straight forward. How long could it possibly take me to weld up a few rectangles and fill them in with rusty bits and pieces. Turns out - quite a bit.

Here she is in all of her partially completed glory:

I am just finishing up the rail from which it will dangle and slide. I have been procrastinating this step because it involves me trying to connect some metallic things to some non-metallic things. I get sweaty palms and loose sleep over anything that involves wood. This shouldn't be too terrible because no table saws will be involved.

Here is a shot of what does the rolling. Instead of spending $300 on the pulleys that I had originally planned on using, I went down to the local bearing supplier and picked up two cartridge bearings for $20. I turned down a couple of aluminum pieces to sandwich the inner bearing race and faced off the bolt head to keep the space between the wall and the door as minimal as possible. The bearings will roll along a rail comprised of a piece of c-channel that has been welded to a piece of rectangular tubing so that this 104 lb finger crusher doesn't cause the rail to sag.

The square washers and nuts were kind of an after thought, but I really like them. With any luck, I will have the door hung this weekend, and be back to the regularly scheduled programming. I have a couple of frames that really should have been wrapped up last month. One of which belongs to the fellow below - Mister Bone Crusher.

This is, for certain, the best white elephant gift I have ever been on the receiving end of. Bless his heart. I can almost smell the Ralph Lauren cologne from here. I betcha that he has at least one leg wrapped around that tree.

looking so long at these pictures of you

2010-12-27T10:18:00.014-07:00

The family took a little road trip down to the land of the Pima (Phoenix) to do some celebrating with Brother John and his soon to be bride for his wedding. Phoenix still feels like home to us and it was nice to rub shoulders with some of our good friends while we were in town. I can't even describe to you how amazing Haji Baba's is after a year of not partaking of the Chicken Shawerma. Wowsers.

To keep the youngster occupied on the drive, I handed her the camera and let her take some photos of whatever she felt she need to take photos of. Today, I finally had myself a look of our trip through her four-year-old eyes.

Have a looksee:

There's my dad

There's my mom

That, right there, is a sweet handle

Palm trees that grow out of the concrete

Wow, look at those houses

Very artsy.

A little something for daddy

A little something for mommy

Brother John's wedding at 100mph

Self-portrait

I love that she managed to grab a shot of the gentlemen's club. I sure love that little girl.

Oh yeah, check out Brother John's new recliner:

The handlebars are highly adjustable to allow for whatever feel suits you best. Options range from extra comfy to super badass. I am currently rocking the later. She's a twitchy little devil, I tell ya.

I got trees on my mirror so my car won't smell

2010-12-17T13:31:00.001-07:00

Jamember this regarding the above featured individual who is hoping to get his felony charges dropped from when he ran over a fellow cyclist with his Mercedes because the felony could possibly impede his financial gaining potential? Well give this a read, and then, when you are still in a a dumbfounded state, click on over here to get the final verdict. God bless us, everyone.

Sorry for the lack of posts. 'Tis the season for hand built Christmas gifts and I have been engaged anxiously with a little project for the misses that I completely underestimated my time budget on. Unfortunately, extracurricular activities, such as bloggering, are the first things to get pushed to the backburner. I would also hate for the misses to stop by for her biannual visit to my blog and spoil her Christmas surprise.

don't let the light go out

2010-12-06T09:23:00.000-07:00

Wrap your mind around that for a minute.

A good friend of mine, who happens to be of the Jewish persuasion, sent me this photo that he took whilst blousing, browsing the Springville, Utah Walmart. What a bargain, and just in time for the season. Perfect.

two turn tables, no microphone

2010-12-03T20:55:00.002-07:00

Whipped up a couple of quick release tables for Tamer's Mitersaw table. Not bicycle related, but still steel.

Bone Crusher

2010-11-29T10:36:00.005-07:00

I am not sure what the details are behind the nickname that was given to the Bone Crusher during his five or six year stint as a wild land fire fighter, but I am sure that I would curl up in the fetal position if I ever encountered him in a dark alley someplace. 6'-4" and 230 lbs of lean. Perhaps it's just the shaved head that intimidates me, or maybe just the fact that he could remove my head from my shoulders if he ever felt so inclined. Probably the later. The amazing part is how well his genuine niceness can throw me off. Anyway, while the details behind the nickname remain unclear, after last Friday, Bone Crusher will take on new meaning.

BC and I headed out for a little Rattle Snake Wash/Stucki loop early afternoon on Friday. The trail was in great shape, the sun was shining (odd for us - we typically only ride after dark) and there were a lot of riders out (odd for us - we typically only ride after dark). We had headed up Rattle Snake wash and were right in the middle of trying to wipe the "I've just descended some of the finest trail in San Jorge" permagrins off of our faces when I heard BC hit the ground behind me. A little composition of speed, forward weight distribution and the rapid loss of air pressure in the front tire catapulted BC directly into the uphill side of the wash that we were crossing. He didn't slide. He didn't bounce. He just stuck.

I immediately dropped my bike and ran back to see him laying face down in the dirt gasping for air. Right in the middle of a groan and a mutter, he passed out on me. A few seconds later he was back, and in a bunch of pain. After some quick inventory, a broken collar bone and some broken ribs were very apparent. At about this time, some really nice folks (their names really never stayed with me for some reason) abandoned their ride to help out. Knowing that the adrenaline was going to wear off soon and that shock was about to set in I asked BC if he was ready to try to walk out (we were so close to the car - maybe about 2-3 miles). He put on his game face, we helped him stand up, his color immediately left and he said that his hip hurt terribly and the inside of his thigh seemed to be pulling funny. After all of our efforts we had managed to move him a grand total of about 6 inches.

Following a quick heart to heart discussion, the paramedics were called. 10 minutes later, a helicopter showed up. No, not life flight - this was a private helicopter. Some very well dressed feller named Duane got out and said that he had just been in the area and had received a text message from the paramedic and decided to stop by. He offered to take BC to the paramedics (who were just getting the water tank on the top of the Green Valley Loop) but we couldn't even get BC to his helicopter that was 100 feet away. I was absolutely certain that his pelvic bone was broken. There was no walking, or even moving at this point. Duane headed back the water tank and picked up the paramedics and dropped them off just as the Life Flight crew from Mercy in Vegas appeared in air and BC gave the paramedics the go ahead for them to land. They landed, ran their quick set of diagnostics, strapped him to a board and stuffed him into the helicopter. The strapping to the board was the worst part of the entire ordeal for me. Watching them crank those broken ribs down onto a board was terrible.

Off they went in route for the Dixie Regional Medical Center. I quickly repaired the front tire and rode, one arming his bike, back to the trail head. Have ever you seen an old western movie where a cowboy returns home leading a riderless horse back to the stall? Man, it was almost enough to make me shed a tear.

BC was released from the hospital later that night with a broken coller bone, several broken ribs in his back and a severely bruised hip/pelvis. He is in rough shape, but on the mend.

Here's to a speedy recovery, brother.

Again, many thanks to the lovely couple that helped out. You two are amazing.

one of the greats

2010-11-24T11:32:00.002-07:00

jamember this fellow?

That right there is 26.5' above the rim of a 24' tall ramp. Wowsers.

I will never forget the conversation that JJ and I happened to catch at interbike several, several years ago between Matt and someone discussing some sort of super sweet event that was on schedule for southern utah (now known as the red bull rampage). The feller was trying to talk Matt into being a judge for the event and Matt wasn't showing too much interest in it. The promoter then said, "Maybe you have heard of Josh Bender???" At this point, the conversation ended. "Not interested, thanks" was all he said.

Who is Josh Bender? Someone that probably should have stuck it out in his highschool physics class. Different strokes for different folks. I am way too much of a sissy, and I can't afford my insurance deductible.

it is a bad habit to start a sentence with it.

2010-11-23T17:23:00.002-07:00

Sorry. I have spent today proof reading and eliminating large quantities of buried its at the day job. I am no grammer genius, but sentences starting with it bug me.

I am an ~~injunear~~
I am an ~~enginear~~
I am an ~~enjuneer~~
I am good at math

it's true you're either wrong or you're right

2010-11-16T08:05:00.007-07:00

Have yourself a little sneak peak of Silm's newest pony in the corral. Powdercoat courtesy of the fine folks at Spectrum who, quite honestly, done outdid themselves. This one sure is purty. Matte, matte and matte.

(in the vicinity of) Frog Hollow

2010-11-10T16:00:00.002-07:00

Okay, in the vicinity of is completely a relative term. Frog Hollow is certainly within 5 or 6 miles of the race site, but who's counting. What I do know is that you are guaranteed to knock at least 10 minutes off of your fastest lap time if you happen to be paying respects to Mister Evel.

Our team, comprised of Mister Weston, JT, and ChrisP managed to somehow stay within 2 laps of Kenny's team of big hitters. I would have been stoked to have been able to stay within 5 laps of them - 2 laps down was amazing. We took 2nd place out of a intense field of 3 teams completing 23 laps. Looking at the lap times from the team that ended up with the 3rd place slot, we would have been switching them spots on the podium had they not stopped at 13 laps to drink barley beverages.

I felt pretty good about my lap times given that I haven't been riding as much as I should be for this sort of an activity. I ended up flatting on my second lap, the one that I felt was going to be my fastest. I really should start racing with a CO2 style pump instead of this mini silca 2,476, 398 strokes to 30 psi pump that I have been using.

This was, by far, the darkest relay race that I have ever participated in. I had polished off 6 laps and was headed out for my 7th before the horizon started to lighten up. Typically, I have finished a 24 hour race with 5 laps. The course was good save for the ridiculously rocky portion of the trail just at the end of the lap. There is no real line through any of it so you just have to start picking your way across the rocks.

I am sure that the race will continue to grow exponentially as it has from last year - which is sad, because the smallness is what makes it fun. Will I do it again next year? Prolly.

with a fist full of steel

2010-11-09T16:27:00.003-07:00

Most of my feelers are not right out on my sleeves where they can get set off very easily, but when I come across something of this nature I really can't help but get worked up about it. My nerve endings are still a little severed and raw from the last run in the misses had with the hood of a car (she's got two notches in her belt now). They were both accidents and were the fault of the person conducting the heavier of the two vehicles. She still sports some neck problems, but she's still alive (which is a huge plus). To say the very, very least -life altering. I can't even get thinking about the full on fist to cuffs that went down with the insured driver's insurance provider. Wow. There must be some sort of a you-ain't-got-no-bumpers insurance loop hole. Holy shit.

Take a moment, read the article, take another moment to gain some composure and then join ranks.

woolens on the cheap, by golly.

2010-11-05T10:24:00.004-07:00

Whilst doing a little fall cleansing, I ran into a box of beautiful woolen items that if'n you would like to get your grubby mitts on, now would be a good time. The sizes and selections are few and there ain't any more hiding anywhere, so when they are gone, they are gone. I sold these for $120 a piece on the last go round, but with a little arm twisting, I'll let 'em go for $90.

Hooded Esweatshirts
(6) Mens Medium
(4) Mens Small
(1) Womens Small
(1) Womens Medium

Brown Long Sleeve Jerseys (just like the above, but with long sleeves)
(1) Mens Medium
(1) Mens Small
(2) Womens Small

Brown Short Sleeve Jersey
(1) Mens XLarge

I'll keep this updated as they go.

mixte for the misses

2010-11-04T07:43:00.009-07:00

On Friday evening of last week, I decided that I had better do some figuring on what it was that I was going to gift (past tense of to give) to her for her geburtstag. Birthdays always sneak up on me. I tend to think that I have plenty of time to tackle whatever project I have in mind and then it shows up and I am not prepared.

I dug into my box of random, mismatched tubes and sundries and came up with this little girls bicycle:

Short on time, and really wanting to get some run time behind the welding helmet, I opted for some TIG. I spent a little extra time and turned down some back purge plugs for the seat tube, head tube and bb areas and I am really shocked at well they worked (No black rings of oxidation anywhere(s)). This is, officially, the first TIG welded frame that I have built and I am blown away by much time it cuts out of a build. The welds are not exceptionally pretty but they are not undercut and they show some good penetration.

The misses was stoked. I finished the frame sometime in the wee hours of the morning of her birthday and placed it on the first thing that she when see woke up: The toilet. She rolled out of bed early and I cracked an eye open to watch her stumble into the bathroom in the dark. There was some commotion and some fumblings, and then the light flicked on. She has been pestering me for a while now for this little number, and I am excited that she finally has it.

Specifics:
HT 71 Degrees
ST 73 Degrees
BB Drop 70mm
CS Length 450mm
Plenty o' room for a 700cx38mm tire and fenders.
I will be adding SS and CS braces for fenders as well as the necessary bits for running a Sturmey Archer 3 speed hub.

dia de los muertos II

2010-11-04T07:09:00.001-07:00

II as in 2 as in 2nd place. What a bummer. Really, the costume that beat me was a dandy, but do you have any idea how hard it is to track down a set of size 10 roller skates? I am also afraid that there was a little of "let's let someone else have the podium this year." The winner? A young lady in the office dressed up like a old, saggy Harley Davidson aficionado that was hitting on all the fellers in the office. Very funny. The smeared lipstick was, by far, my favorite.

dia de los muertos

2010-10-29T08:54:00.007-07:00

The day job sponsors a little Halloween bash every year that involves some cold hard cash for best costume. I am not sure if any of you are aware of this, but we seem to be in some sort of an economic down turn and I am trying my best to provide for the family. "I've got to do for me and mine." Let's just say I bring out my A-game when there is free money on the line.

My first year at the day job everyone told me how big of a deal the Halloween party was. Figuring that the joke was on me, I opted for something that could easily be removed without losing too much face.

This was my best impression of the Red Headed Stranger. The party turned out to be a bigger deal than I had thought it would be with the grand prize going to this feller who decided to be frugal and just wear his son's Halloween costume:

He walked away with $100 for the best costume as well as $100 for the best jackolantern. Bastard.

The following year I decided that I was for sure going to win. I contacted an old friend that I had gone to high school with, starved myself for several months, took a hearty dose of self-esteem boosters and slipped into this little number to take home the win:

The day job was short a cash that year and I only pocketed $50, which was a little bit of a let down, but still. 50 free dollars. I think that I bought some sunglasses so I could avoid eye contact with people for a week or two so the shame had time to wear off. The best part about the cheer leading get up was the bicycle commute to and from work. Breezy.

Still feeling like I was $150 short of the 2007 purse, I went for the win again and nailed it:

I debated for months on whether or not showing up to a company party dressed as Jesus would come off as offensive, but in the end, I decided that if it was alright to dress up as the devil, why should Jesus be so bad? I brought the youngster as the lost sheep just to soften the blow a bit. Another $50 in my pocket.

This year was actually my best year. I ended up winning first and second place:

The purse it set at $100 again this year and both barrels have been loaded. Any guesses?

'cause if you're big star bound let me warn you it's a long hard ride.

2010-10-27T08:13:00.000-07:00

Surf your way on over here for a little extracurriclar reading.

"its a long walk to nashville, would you like a ride, son?"

we'll make spears

2010-10-25T07:27:00.001-07:00

hundreds of them. long spears. twice as long as a man.

TM's fork crown is ready to have some legs brazed into it. BC's looks just like it.

what lorraine, what?

2010-10-20T11:37:00.002-07:00

I have found myself firmly planted at 3π/2 in my sinusoidal swinging of bloggernaut. My apologies first, and some lame excuses second.

I caught myself a wild hare last weekend and decided to hang some of the remaining rough sawn lumber (that I used for the board and batton on the exterior of the shop) in the work area corner of the studio. I am pleased with the end result, but I have basically had to move everything out of the way so that I could get to the walls that were covered. In the words of Kramer - "It's like a ski lodge." I really only anticipated the job to take half of a day last Friday, and at 8:00pm on Saturday I was finished and completely partied out. I still have yet to get the shop put back together - close, but not yet. Tonight should be the night if some sort of community service opportunity doesn't hunt me down. I swear, sometimes I feel like I am on the Needy List speed dial.

Trouble Maker's fork is well under way and so is the Bone Crusher's. The forks will be nearly identical, so I have them going simultaneously. TM will be in san jorge for all hallow's eve and I hope to at least have something for him to have a look at.

Speaking of the Bone Crusher - he's just getting into this clipless pedal revolution and is trying to track down a set of shoes in the size 49-50 variety. If any of you out there in this small corner of the cycling community could recommend a good pair of grande shoes, he would appreciate any feedback.

Two additional items up for discussion:
1. The misses is putting together a t-shirt order. We plan on doing a run of different sizes and shapes with the cost being under $25. Details to follow - we would just like to have an idea of what sort of quantity we may be working with.

2. There will be a sabrosa sponsored hand built donut party (courtesy of the misses) at the studio on October 30th in celebration of el dia de los muertos. Come have a handful of deliciousness and bring your light for a ride up rattlesnake wash and down Stucki to burn off any calories that were eaten in excess of your daily quota. "Do you know what a quota is son?" "Uh, like 25 cents?"

Until then, please appreciate this.

drinking coca, coca, coca cola.

2010-10-11T12:36:00.002-07:00

Day Three

This is what we woke up to on our final day around the lake. Don't let the diving board fool you, we were totally roughing it out there.

Camping in someone's yard brings with it all sorts of issues - even when they are the only yard for miles in any direction. I think that I already mentioned that we were offered showers, and even an omelet breakfast by the gunslinger that we kindly turned down due to our extreme nature and the fact that our Mountain Dew sponsers would not have been pleased with such a non-extreme move.

I am a morning person. I have always been a morning person. And by morning person, I mean that morning is typically my time of the day for gastrocolic reflexes. There was no getting around it, and as per that damn murphey, as soon as I found myself behind the only tree in the back yard, the gunslinger decided to come out and be social. The misses immediately intercepted the gunslinger, who was on her way to feed some horses who lived near said tree, and saved all of us all from some unpleasantries. Really, my hat is off to the misses for some fancy footwork.

The gunslinger's son was pretty excited about the vagabonds that tented the night in his front yard and wasn't about to miss out on the opportunity to see us on our way. He, and the gunslinger gave us a good ol' fashion escort down to the road that we had missed the night before, took a bunch of pictures of us and sent us on our way.

The next 30 miles or so were some of the best maintained dirt roads of the trip. We did some pretty significant climbing over the Promontory Mountains and had our hearts set on some delicious Pepsi Colas that we would, for sure, be finding at the Golden Spike National Monument. This is the auto timed photo that Chad took of us just before we ventured into the visitor's center to find that there, in fact, were no Pepsi Colas to be found. After picking ourselves up from the huge let down, I busted out all of my marketing skills with the Golden Spike tourists trying to land us some cold sodas, but no. I have no business in marketing. Chad gave me a B- for my efforts.

With at least 50 miles to go to Ogden, and feeling pretty partied out, we got back on our bicycles and headed south down Promontory Point. Most of the road was paved which helped us crank out some quicker miles. We rolled into Ogden just as the sun was setting and enjoyed the rural side of Ogden that I had never seen before. My opinion of Ogden had always been a bit below average, but this side of town feels just like Benjamin. Old farm houses and beautiful fields. We must have been pretty hammered because we took no pictures after our stop at Golden Spike. Maybe it was because we were getting eaten alive by horse flies from there to Ogden. Maybe. I have blocked it from my mind.

We stopped at the first gas station that we came upon, only to find it shut down for the sabbath. There was a Pepsi machine outside that was completely sold out, and the Coke machine wouldn't take my paper money. Chad was gracious enough to trade me my five dollar bill for $2.50 worth of quarters to buy a two Cokes and to be completely honest, had he asked I would have given him $20 bill in exchange for such deliciousness.

We were still about 5 miles from Ogden proper and darkness had settled in. We debated on whether or not to ride into town in the dark to get some food, or to just sit tight and wait for Chad's wife to come get us where we were. Just as we had decided to get on our bikes and brave dark road, the local Search and Rescue showed up with an empty truck bed. The misses tried out her marketing skills and landed us a ride into town. I love that it was the Search and Rescue that picked us up. I only wish that I could have heard the conversations at the truck stop when we all piled out of the truck and unloaded bikes and gear.

Would I go again? Sure. Give me a year or two to forget the roughness. Would I go with Chad again? You betcha. If you could have only seen what this guy would eat for dinner every night. Gourmet is the only word that comes to mind. I have a lot of touring miles under my belt, but I have never eaten as well as Chad did on any tours that I have been on. The trip around the lake isn't too ridiculous. What makes it difficult is that there is a pretty good chance for shitty weather and that there is no water to be found out there that isn't loaded with salt. We were pretty lucky on both ends. The most difficult part of the ride is trying to convince yourself that you'll get through the stark desolation without any trouble. If you can wrestle your mind around that obstacle, you'll be just fine.

See you next time.

into the white

2010-10-07T13:30:00.005-07:00

Day Two

After a hearty breakfast of bagels and about 3 million calories of Nutella, we set off hoping for the silt to end. Chad, the weekend prior to our event, had graciously traversed the Lucin Cutoff railroad causeway by bicycle and had stashed 5 gallons of water for us. We had really anticipated arriving at the water cache the night before, but due to my slowness, and a misjudgement of actual mileage, we didn't arrive at the cache until 11:00am. We sat under the shade of a rock outcropping and ate kipper snacks and wheat thin crackers before heading west along the causeway, further away from civilization.

Chad promised to offer me one of his dinner burritos if I would agree to carry the remaining gallon of water that would not fit into our bottles. I split the gallon into two containers and placed one in each of my front bags and set off across the causeway. This was the place in the ride where the expansiveness of the lake set in for me. I remember looking off to the right and seeing nothing but lake, and off to the left to see the white salt flats disappear into the horizon. The causeway was in way better shape than the first one we had ridden the day before, so the ten or so miles went by pretty quickly. We stopped in the shade of a passing train and took a gander at the massive pumping station on the Hogup Ridge. The water was so crystal clear, and I was so terribly hot, I am not sure how I talked myself out of jumping in. I guess I kept thinking that another 200 miles of itching wasn't going to be worth it.

The pumping station is huge. The mighty wiki claims that the pump (three of them total) had a maximum pumping capacity of 1.5 million gallons of water every minute which is equal to approximately 3300 cubic feet per second. That's a grundle. Glen Canyon Dam is required to release a minimum of about 5000 cfs just to maintain the Colorado River. Really, it was pretty impressive.

After the pump, and the causeway, we set off on some of the most difficult stretch of road for the entire trip. I caught myself laughing at several spots due to their absolute ridiculousness. The road dwindled into nothing more than a bunch of baby head rocks embedded in cow hoof trampled double track. Chad flatted here someplace, I passed my pump and tire levers off to him and kept on pedaling with my determined hat on. The misses was far enough ahead of me that I couldn't see her and I knew that if I stopped for long the cramping in my legs would crank up a notch. We climbed to the summit of a ridge line and took in the best view of the lake for the entire trip. The pictures really don't convey the view or the expansiveness.

We eventually turned onto a really nice piece of graded dirt road where we were able to crank the speed up again (I am sure that I was still rolling my 12 miles per hour). We were looking for a small ghost town named Kelton, but what we found was a bunch of construction workers who were calling it a day after some gas line installation. They had about 12 water coolers on the back of their truck, and we lucked out. One of them still had water in them. Cold water.

In our excitement over refilled water bottles, we somehow managed to miss our turn out to Locomotive Springs and ended up stumbling onto a farm house out in the middle of nowhere. Darkness was well on its way and since we weren't quite sure where we should be heading, we opted to ask for directions at the farm house. As we approached, we noticed a woman, and two youngins out near a fire ring. I yelled hello and looked as friendly as possible because it was very apparent that she was packing iron. She invited us over, told us where we missed our turn, and offered us a piece of grass to set the tents up on. Oh yeah, the hot dog that she offered me was probably the best tasting hot dog I have ever roasted over an open flame. Amazing. She even offered for us to take showers, but we kindly declined knowing that you all would be disappointed in us for cheating. The hot dog was pushing it for sure.

We spent the evening chit chatting with the gunslinger and fell asleep with full bellies under a ski that had to be bigger than Montana's. I have only heard rumors of how big that ski is, and I am not sure I am buying into it just yet.

the ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in?

2010-10-05T11:54:00.006-07:00

The following blog entry may be just as epic to read, as it was to ride. I am still rounding up some photo documentation that I will update the post with here shortly. So far, I have only been able to tackle the first day with two more still to follow. Sit tight.

DAY ONE

After blatantly bailing on Chad's RAGSLOW (ride around great salt lake one weekend) event that had been planned for last year, there was no real way of getting out of it this year. This is an event that sounds really great in my mind, but as the weekend draws nearer, the implications of dehydration, desolation and desert winds tend to dampen my excitement. Chad really would like to know why he cannot seem to draw a crowd for this event. He is serious. I think maybe the promise of donuts would help.

The three of us, Chad, the misses and me, left Chad's humble abode at the crack of dawn on Friday morning (10:00am) and picked our way south and west towards the Great Salt Lake State Marina. From the marina, we jumped on our first stretch of railroad causeway where I had my first taste of fully loaded, off road touring. I am not sure exactly how much weight we each were carrying on our bicycles, but I do know that a mighty strain was required to manhandle the bikes up over obstacles. Most of the weight was due to the massive quantities of water that we were packing - there is no Adventures First Stop on the west desert. I believe that we were only a mile or two into the roughness when Chad had a rack support fail (it was aluminum in nature, if'n you were curious). I was busy trying to pick some sort of a line behind Chad when, out of nowhere, his bags were dragging him to a stop directly in front of me and I narrowly avoided a nasty get off. The worst part about the rack support failure is that I had promised Chad some sort of a fix because he had the same issue with his rack on his first excursion around the lake. Armed with a bag full of assorted hardware bits that were left over from my Surly rack installations, we were able to manufacture a new mount (out of stainless steel, no less) and were back in business within a matter of minutes.

Within a mile or two of the rack mishap, the honeymoon stage of the ride officially ended for me and I was well on my way into a dark, lonely place in my mind. We jumped on I-80 westbound, the pace picked up, the sun was hot, I was conserving water and I ran completely out of go. Chad graciously allowed me to draft off of his wheel, but drafting is purtnear pointless when full throttle riding won't even keep you in someone's slipstream. I was pretty delirious at this point, but I am pretty sure that it was here when Chad told me to step it up. Much to the chagrin of everyone involved, I made countless comments throughout the remainder of the trip of how well I had stepped it up for the day. Chad was quick to remind me that when the comment was made, I was managing a breath taking pace of nearly 12 miles per hour - on pavement. Wrap your mind around that kind of speed.

After a bit of a regroup in the shadowy delight of a culvert adjacent to a emerald green pool of brine I felt quite a bit better - especially knowing that hottest part of the day had passed. We flagged down two latinos near the Mag Corp chlorine plant in a work truck and promptly emptied their igloo water cooler into our bottles. "Somos gringos malucos, pero somos buena gente." I would have never guessed that my spanish skills would come in handy on the west side of the GSL. The pavement ended once again and we spent several miles picking our way through 6 inch deep, powdery silt until the sun disapeared and we set up camp.

Random Thoughts on Gear:

1. The friction option on my Shimano bar end shifter was priceless.

2. Ortlieb roll top bags are amazing. Trust me. You want a set. (thanks spencer and breckan for the loaners)

3. The misses and I rode the WTB Pathway tire (38mm) at 75 psi and had zero problems.

4. Three bottle mounts are handy.

5. If I could have had my handlebar higher, I would have. Even with my ugly stem, more up would have been nice. Am I old?

6. My 3 man tent is too large for this sort of event, for two people. I will scale down next time.

7. The misses used Rivendell's candybar bag on her handlebar and had endless edibles at her finger tips. Good move.

8. Dedicated rack mounts are way nice.

it ain't coca-cola it's rice.

2010-09-24T08:36:00.003-07:00

Just when I was starting to lose faith in my choice of higher education, TBW brightened my day with a little hope. Right now, I am having a hard time buying into such propaganda, but hey - if the internets say that its true, well shoot, it must be.

I spent Wednesday at the smorgasbord known as Interbike and I am pleased to announce that the theme of the show this year was most certainly "previously gauged lobes" (love ya mitch). The tattoo is apparently still such a hit at the show that the good folks at Chrome were actually offering tattooing services right on the spot in their booth. I guess you could call it an impulse buy, right? Actually, I am not sure if there was even a fee for such badassedness. Try as I could to talk the misses into matching tribal rings around our eyes, she was definitely a no-go.

For sure, the highlight of the show for me was bumping into this fellow:

In my humble opinion, Mister Merckx is the greatest cyclist to have ever ridden an orange bicycle. I was shocked at how few people were around to say hello to him. Honestly, there were more folks gathered around the free tattoo parlor.

Of course, there were other celebrity sitings. We even managed to bump into Grumpy himself (a very, very rare occurrence). Strolling around in a very shiny suit of Naga was Mister Fisher himself who KP refers to as "The Willy Wonka of the Bicycle Industry".

With each passing year the show seems to become more and more carboncentric, dark and unhopeful. This year was different. Sure, there was carbon everywhere, but it is old news. Breaking through the darkness, and at many high end component booths were high end, custom, steel frames adorned in whatever parts were being peddled at said booth. Very refreshing.

The eye catchers for me this year included a new roll top, waxed canvass duffel bag from brooks that I absolutely covet. One of the original founders of Chrome has branched off and is making his own stuff, and I tell you, it is beautiful.
Finally, I was suckered into hopping on to a bicycle that was set up with the Nu Vinci internal geared hub. I was literally drug over and forced to ride the damn thing and my mind was officially blown. I have ridden Sturmey three speeds forever and ever and this little number was nothing like 'em. Think continuously variable transmission. It has an infinite choice of gear ratios bounded by a low end and a high end. Super cool. So cool, that I talked one of the reps into sending me a Demo wheel to try out. The misses has been begging me for a new town bicycle, and I think that this will be the ticket.

Okay, enough shameless promotion. Enjoy your weekend.

KP off to the coaters

2010-09-20T07:49:00.001-07:00

After much deliberation, KP settled on a coat of sabrosa orange for his new steed. I have always said that everyone should own at least one orange bicycle. This'll be numero dos for him.

well i think i'm losing my mind this time

2010-09-16T08:09:00.001-07:00

KP wanted to get his hands a little dirty with his new pony and see'n as he has his tote and chip card with one corner still remaining, he offered to do some whittling on his fork. A K and a P were in order, and the P gives a nod to the day when Schwinn was at the top of their game (I am not sure if KP intended this or not, but I dig it anyhow). I have nothing but fond memories of the days when I was riding a purple Paramount series 90. The matching fanny pack that I wore really tied the whole ensemble together.

intrabicycle las vegas musings

2010-09-14T12:01:00.001-07:00

Nowhere else in the bicycle industry can you go from the museum-esc, please don't touch booths of Colnago, DeRosa and Crampandgoslow to Taiwanese $1.27 rear derailers and L.E.D. blinky lights. Really, it is pretty spectacular. My mind can only handle it for about one half of a day, and then I am ready to take a nap. Three quarters of a day is advisable, only if a trip to Luv It's frozen custard has been planned for the trip home. Oh yeah, those $1.27 rear derailers are only available in units of 5000. Get stocked up.

My most favorite piece of the show, isn't the fondling of new carpet wonder bits that continue to miraculously become 20% lighter and 20% stiffer than the previous year's model. Rather, it is the latest fashion trend that we, as bicycle enthusiasts, adorn ourselves with. Every year is different. Just think back to the Timbuk2 messenger bag revolution. You know you wanted one. Cycling specific socks and Birkenstock sandals? Check. Tight pants and bandanas? For sure. Gauged out earlobes and a fresh new neck tattoo? Done.

My question for you is this: What is this year's new fashion accessory going to be? Let's have some guesses.

so fresh and so clean, clean.

2010-09-10T14:27:00.001-07:00

Remember this? I finally got around to getting some powdercoat sprinkled on it this week and I am really pumped with how it turned out. Feels like a brand spankin' pony.

Sorry for the interweb absense. I have been standing behing one of these little numbers for the last couple of days.

I am hoping to get KP's pony wrapped up this weekend and off to the coaters. TroubleMaker - saddle up, brother. You are on deck.

i am camera challenged

2010-09-01T15:55:00.001-07:00

the only shots that I ended up getting that show the entire bicycle were terrible. these are the only moderately viewable shots.

lo siento mucho.

i feel it a lot.

benson blue

2010-08-26T07:26:00.000-07:00

swoop.

2010-08-16T06:57:00.005-07:00

I finished up getting KP's seatstays installed and put a little extra flair in the non-drive side stay. I dig the way it feel into place. I mitered out the seatstay bridge last night and will get it brazed into place tonight. If I hold my mouth just right, I betcha I can have the seat binder installed and the stainless faces on the dropouts too. A little fork'n stem and this little number will off to the powdercoater. KP - commit to a color dammit.

hit me

2010-08-13T09:18:00.004-07:00

What would a Friday be without The Godfather of Soul? Get on the good foot.

First off - Dieter, the '72 VW Beetle is fully operational. I tell you, I cannot think of a more manly achievement in my life to date. Other than the small timing issue (the one that had flames shooting out of my exhaust pipes) the engine install went without any hitches. Sure, I spend most of my time talking bicycle related things, but I still have quite the soft spot in my heart for the air cooled VW. Don't start - they seem to be very addictive. Drugs are bad, mmkay?

Second off - no one ever says second off. I am not a reader. Let me rephrase that - very seldom do I find a book that keeps my attention for more than a chapter or two. Russell mentioned to me that I might dig "Shopclass as Soulcraft". I remember stumbling onto an introduction of the book through the good folks at Siren, but I had brushed it off. After Russell's promptings, I purchased the book and haven't been able to get enough. Sure, the book is loaded with air cooled VW and vintage motorcycle banter, along with a hearty dose of backpatting for folks who work with their hands and produce something tangible - but there's more. We live in a world that is becoming more and more disposable where little user maintenance is required. Most products, thanks to oversea production, are more economical to replace rather than to repair. Like the faucet that I just replaced in my kitchen because I couldn't come up with a $0.30 gasket to keep the damn thing from leaking. Lame. Give the book a read. Hands on trades are valuable, and I think that this economic downturn has underscored it some.

Lastly - KP's frame has been patiently waiting for it's piece of my time. I really just need to clone myself so I can tackle all that I have going on right now. There are only so many ends of a candle that one can burn. Saturday will be filled to the brim with oxygen, acetylene, and brass.

he's the charlie daniels of the torque wrench

2010-08-03T13:16:00.007-07:00

No, not me - Mister Frost. The feller that has been helping me rebuild my volkswagen engine. I have done a lot of repair manual reading in preparation for this event and he offered to watch over my shoulder to make sure that I don't screw anything up.

This is a first for me. I have dabbled in volkswagens for quite some time, but due to a very traumatic engine rebuild attempt at 15 years of age, I have not thrown my hat back into the ring. The car was a 1974 VW superbeetle and I was armed with a socket set that belonged to my dad. The car was a bargain - $500 and all it needed was a $200 engine rebuild kit to get her rolling. My dad and I drug the car home and dropped the engine out of the back (just like a turd). Mind you, I had never wrenched on cars. Bicycles, yes. Combustion engines, no. I had no idea what all the bits and pieces were even called, let alone what their functions were.

The engine came out, and we began to strip it down to the engine crankcase. Once the block was free, we noticed several large, gaping holes in the crankcase. This wasn't part of the plan. A $200 engine rebuild kit certainly didn't include a new crankcase. I called up the good old boy that sold me the car and asked him what in the world had happened. "After the engine seized, we decided to pull the car behind my truck to see if'n we couldn'a unseize it." Perfect. Shrapnel.

I threw up my hands in defeat, and towed the car to a legit mechanic to fix the engine - and the transmission that had been destroyed by some moron. Lesson learned. I haven't been back into an engine since. My $500 car turned into my $2500 car in a big hurry.

This time, however, has been way different. More calculated and controlled. No holes in the crankcase certainly have helped too. I am throwing on the remaining cooling tins tonight, and the engine will hopefully be shoved back into the car tomorrow night. I am pumped. These combustion engines still blow my mind.

if it ain't broke, fix it.

2010-07-29T07:07:00.007-07:00

Some folks just aren't into the coasting, and that is just fine with me.

I paid a visit to Mister SLCB last weekend for a quick family vacation to Navajo Lake on Cedar Mountain and he dropped a set of these in my lap:

Now, I didn't know this, but apparently the new fancy carpet wonderbike from Spreken zie Trek comes with a through axle hub nestled into an eccentric dropout of sorts. This certainly would facilitate running the bike as a one speed. SLCB says that if'n you are going to run a one speed bicycle on the road, it might as well be fixed (this is coming from a guy who was knocking out big miles on a non-coasting, one speed RB-1 back in the early 90's when I first met him - think setter, not follower of trends).

The upper photo there is a shot of the guts from a Hugi hub. You can see that if you mate the two together, you'll get engagement in one direction and slippage in the other. SLCB wanted engagement in both directions. Therefore:

Not broken anymore. Fixed.

intervention

2010-07-28T09:32:00.004-07:00

That is what most good hearted folks do when they see someone they care about destroying themselves. Where were you? Now that I am the proud owner of one of these, I am seriously reconsidering my plans to travel 26.2 miles in an inefficient manner. I've come to my senses, mostly. Self-Treatment: stop running. No problem. Done.
Having a running related injury cause pain during a typically splendid bicycle adventure is ridiculous. I'm out.

They gave me five dollars and a secondhand suit

2010-07-26T09:25:00.009-07:00

KP's little pony has sat alone for too long in the studio so I spent some quality time with it on Friday and Saturday while listening to a little Blitzen Trapper. Check out Black River Killer if'n you get a hankerin' for some darkness.
I tried a little something new this go round - I opted to TIG weld my tacks. I finally got my argon tank set up to back purge my tubes and I decided to give it a try. I am pretty pleased with the results and I really, really like having a clean slate after the tack stage (a frame that I can check all of my alignment measurements without a bunch of flux everywhere). Once tacked, and checked for alignment, I proceeded as usual and brazed up the frame.

Sorry for the blurr. This camera frustrates me severly even though I understand that there is a heaping handful of user error involved. I am to impatient when it comes to snapping photos.

i think that my ship has finally arrived

2010-07-20T07:11:00.005-07:00

Just got this in the electronic mail today:

Dear Sir or madam,

My name is Watono Cheung from Singapore. I've been looking your advertisement in the internet and I want to make an order from your company but I don't know whether you accept an International Order from Singapore. If you do, I will use my credit card for payment of my order, for those I will responsible for the fees include shipping cost, tax and handling for ship my order to Singapore via USPS or UPS International Priority. I think that wouldn't be a problem as I am sure that you have a merchant account to accept credit card payment, but once again, I just want to make sure. Please respond immediately, so I can start ordering. I am waiting for your early reply and I hope we can make a good deal.

Yours Trully,
Watono Cheung
Singapore

I immediately sent over my social security number, date of birth and visa account information. I feel that I am on the verge of something huge here. Don't worry, I will cut you all in on the profits.

The last time I was called madam, I was sitting in my cubical at the day job with my head turned away from the door. I guess that it is not really a door. How about entrance? There really is no point in having a door when the walls don't even reach the ceiling. Anyway - there I was, just riding along (JRA), and an old timer and his lovely wife stopped in to ask directions to some other business in the complex - "Um, excuse me madam." Not even miss. I would have even settled for misses, but no - Madam. I turned around with my burly sideburns and smiled at him. The old timer didn't miss a beat and continued with his query. His wife, however, was looking frantically for a door to hide behind.

Was does trully mean anyway? Did he mean trolley yours? The San Francisco Treat? I am super confused, but can't hardly wait to make a good deal.

float away, ya fairy!

2010-07-16T12:39:00.003-07:00

du bist meine kleine schnitzel

la chupacabra

2010-07-15T08:19:00.003-07:00

I don't know about you, but I certainly will sleep better now knowing that the identity of the infamoso chupacabra has been brought to light. Now all I really have to worry about are the Skinwalkers out on the Arizona Strip. These are things that bounce through my mind when I my light gives me the 20 minute warning of imminent shut down while out night riding. Think about it - how scary is Big Foot anyway? All he does is walk slowly through the bushes. A skinwalker? Now that is scary.

"The Potter's Meal"

2010-07-13T07:08:00.003-07:00

Last night I revisted a film that was produced by a friend of mine, Mister SteveO. I am not sure how easy it would be to get your hands on a copy, but if you can find it, it is certainly worth a half hour of your day.

The film is a documentary about a potter named Joseph Bennion, his work, his lifestyle and his family. Really, it is a fine piece of work, and I am not just stroking SO’s ego.

A little something that Joseph said jumped out and grabbed my attention last night.

“If a potter is not singing (as in to singe not to sing) his eyebrows and burning his hands unloading kilns and he just can’t wait to get in that kiln and he can’t wait for it to cool off to unload it then there is something happening. Then the honeymoon is still on. But once it becomes a chore and once there is no more joy in it then I’d say you should retool and become a bus driver or something that’s going to be more exciting.”

I love custom bicycles. Each one takes on its very own personality and has its very own fingerprint. I continually strive to keep this little venture in the honeymoon phase, even if that means polishing seatposts and handlebars to get the feel that I am looking for.

fra-may

2010-07-12T06:59:00.008-07:00

Here is Josh's response to my bicycle weight post. Get your nerd on:

Here is my calculation:

If you can climb 1 vertical foot per second, (3600 feet in an hour) you are doing pretty good. F=ma, and power = F*distance(vertical) per time; So each kilogram will cost you: 1 kg * 9.8 m/s^2 * 0.303 meters/sec = 2.9 watts

Have you ever heard any one wishing "If only I had 3 more watts!, I'd climb like a goat!" Not likely, maybe they'd wish for 10 watts, and put in the training to make it really happen. But how often have you seen gram counters spending thousands on a few hundred grams? Well, it's a good thing that after they fork over the cash, they still put in the training, and they get their watts. Otherwise, they might realize that all that cash was just a card in the spokes.

Josh

Amen, brother. Amen. Thanks for the numbers. I wish that you would have put the equations in Reverse Polish for me though. Something like this:
1kg enter, 9.8m/s^2 enter, 0.303m/s multiply, multiply = 2.9 watts.
Way easier to understand.

Josh also sent along a lovely shot of his fra-may to remind me what hurt looks like. I have been beat up countless times by Josue on this little number (the cage fighter shot here really, really intimidates me). This is the only bicycle that I have ever followed when a distinct message fluttered in my sweat soaked eyes - GET OFF YOUR BIKE RIGHT NOW! YOU ARE GOING TO PASS OUT!

thank you mister erikson

2010-07-07T13:40:00.008-07:00

Here is the short story -
A good friend of mine recently purchased a home from an old lady who had been living with her Alzheimer stricken husband for the last ten years. He died about a month ago and she purchased a new home in an old folks neighborhood, and walked away from everything. I mean everything. Left food on shelves and sheets on beds. My buddy gave me a call and told me to stop by the new place to have a look.
This is what I found:
My friend is not much of a metal worker and he let me take my pick of a few tools. I ended up with the 60's era bench grinder, wet stone and lathe (cute little sucker - this is the only lathe that I have been able to move by myself.) I also ended up with some really nice Starrett dial calipers and feeler gauges.
The strangest part was the distinct feeling that the old boy was bothered that I was shuffling through his neatly arranged workshop. Kind of a weird taste of death. A lifetime of tool collecting was sitting in there with no place to go. No next of kin. I hope that he can at least take comfort in knowing that I am way excited about keeping the tools in use. Mister Erikson - thank you. The tools went to a good home.

Every owner's manual that accompanied any tool this old timer had is compiled in this three ring binder. Gold mine.

Density of Steel = 490 lbs/ft^3

2010-06-30T11:57:00.011-07:00

Density of fat = 63 lbs/ft^3

Steel is heavy.

I have tried, and tried to explain why bicycle weight isn’t the only factor in determining the ride quality of a bicycle before. Really, I just deleted an entire blog entry about it because I started to ramble a bit and found myself busting out some linear algebra to prove my point.

Most folks don’t buy into my beliefs in this 20% lighter and 20% stiffer world of the carpet. To them, light is the answer. For me, light enough is the answer. I can easily shed 5 pounds, right now - from my love handles - For free. No $100 titanium bolt kits would be involved.

Bicycle weight isn’t as important as the bicycle retailing industry would have you believe. I promise. Josh Brown will beat me up any day of the week on his 25 pound road bike built around Nashbar’s Frame (pronounced fra-may) complete with an indexed headset and a mighty fine pair of clips and straps.

Don’t waste anymore time listening to me rant. Take a little site visit over here for a more eloquent essplantion of what I am trying to spit out. Thanks Dug. I swear folks; I am not paying this guy anything. Swearsies.

cruisin' down the street in my '64

2010-06-28T09:10:00.008-07:00

KP's curvaceous little number is well on it's way. Those seat stays are most certainly a nod in the direction of the fellows at Retrotech, and really took some thinking. The constant radius from the headtube to the dropouts was tough, but the bend for the tire clearance, Clarence, was even tougher. I think that they turned out fine and dandy. This frame has a nice feel to it already.

The 70 degree studio is way better than the 120 degree studio. I almost feel like I am cheating. I have built too long in hot garages between Phoenix and San Jorge. The swamp cooler is just a treat.
KP's frame sat alone in the studio all day Saturday. I took a little trip with some quality folk to the rim of the Grand Canyon. Check it out courtesy of Mister Westy. Absolutely amazing. Anna - this is where I will take you next time you pass through town. You'll go nuts.

waiting like a batter that is on deck

2010-06-17T10:42:00.004-07:00

Final tweaks are done on KP's frame design and I am cutting tubes tonight. I am excited to get going on this build - shoot, it has been too stinkin' long. I got a fever. This one will meet or exceed the minimum flair requirement. Non-spension corrected and curvalicious.
I am even more excited about the swamp cooler that I installed last night on the studio. Time to keep those doors rolled down for a month or two. It's hot in the hot tub.

just nod if you can hear me

2010-06-10T06:35:00.004-07:00

Whirlwind is the only way I can describe the last couple of weeks around these parts. I apologize for the blogger drought - things are piling up and I am checking them off of my list as quickly as possible. I am seriously considering cloning myself. I know that things must look bad when I have friends dropping me emails wondering if I have had some terrible accident in which both of my arms were simultaneously yanked from my body - "I hope everything’s alright in San Jorge." Thank you for your concerns. Things are still good in San Jorge.

I took the month of May off from the fillet brazing world after developing a wicked case of tendinitis in my hands. Tendons are still tender, but I am back at it.

Benson's frame is finally getting draped with a bunch of shiny parts. She'll be a looker. KP tubeset is sitting near my work bench as we dial in some last minute details. I hope to be doing some coping this weekend. I need to get cranking - the builds are stacking up and although I always walk in the shop in the morning with high hopes that the file fairies have stayed up all night filing and polishing, they always let me down. Lazy little bastards.

Just one more brief glimpse into my life of hustle -

These are all of the bits from my '72 VW beetle (Dieter) that will be headed to the powder coater this weekend for a fresh new sheen. This has been a very slow train coming. Slow, more like sluggish. I seized the engine last September and have slowly been getting around to rebuilding it. I am always shocked at how easy it can be to live without motorized transportation. Waiting on a few bearings and assorted bits to arrive from the magical world of internet shopping and the little air cooled wonder will be back on the road. Finally.

Once again, sorry for the absence, and even more sorry for the lack of bicycle related posts. I am falling back into a groove.

planks

2010-05-28T07:38:00.006-07:00

I purchased an entire grundle of Ponderosa pine from the Nyborg Sawmill out in Colorado City. I really think that a grundle is a unit of measure. I am still looking for a conversion factor to convert it into cubic feet. The cowboy and I loaded it into a trailer and hauled it to the world headquarters, unloaded it, and tied it up good so that those fresh planks wouldn't turn themselves into pretzels.
My dad made yet another trip to the southern country for three days of fun. I have no idea where I would be without the man. I do not work well in the wood genre. He does. Tamer showed up with his arsenal of tools and helped us knock out some a bunch of work. My mom described him as a one man band.
I still have one or two loose ends to tie up, but the majority of the work has been done. I hardly recognize the place. I got accustomed to seeing the OSB sheeting. This looks pretty high class.
Thanks Dad. I love that you will drop everything and come down and help. I also love that I have your handy work sitting in my yard.
Tamer - You rock.

say you, say me

2010-05-27T07:57:00.002-07:00

back in contact with the outside world. busy. pictures to come very, very shortly. please hold.

floydian slip?

2010-05-20T15:37:00.004-07:00

How was that again? Really, the news breaks my heart. Not the Landis part. I really could not care any less at this point. I never really felt the Landis Love from the beginning, but that was entirely based on the yellow and the green racing kit. Lame - I know. What breaks my heart is that this is where my sport is headed:

1. Dope
2. Ride faster than your friends
3. Win
4. Defiantly deny doping

The throwing of people under the bus gets to me too. Was Lance involved? Who knows. I hope not. He denies it (please refer to step 4).

Folks wonder why I don't give a damn about racing anymore (please refer to step 2).