Rock from Casey Schlenker on Vimeo.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Best laid spontaneous actions.
My day started with a few urget woofs from one of my riding buddies.
She wanted to go mountain biking, and she wanted to do it right now. Bella and I loaded up the truck, and headed to the Wood's Gulch trailhead in The Rattlesnake.
The first few miles went by without incident, but, I'm new to the area, and I had to stop and consult the map a few times.
There are a lot of reasons to ride a knobby tire bike through the woods; fast flowy trails, the rush of adrenaline while cleaning a technical section, the pure athleticism of grinding up endless climbs, actually being able to feel your own soul, however, mountain biking is first and formost about exploring in the woods.
I hadn't really explored the Wood's Gulch trail past the logging road yet, so when I got there, I figured I keep heading up the singletrack to Blue Point. The climb is steep, loose, and technical enough, that I was looking forward to the downhill. Once Bella and I got to the top we enjoyed the view, and split a Clif Bar. I figure even Bella-the-endless-energy-herding-dog needs a snack after a steep, technical, climb.
After a little snack, Bella was reenergized, and decided to run hot laps around the summit.
Since my riding partner was ready to rawk, we pointed downhill and pinned it for 3.5 miles, flat out shredding. I kept checking to make sure Bella was with me, and every time I glanced back, there she was, right on my wheel. I got a text from Ricky Gnarmichal after every turn I railed. Until...
Sometimes, you take a wrong turn. Sometimes, you hesitate and think when you should just trust your instincts. Sometimes, your worn-out rear tire just doesn't hook up. Regardless of why I blew a corner, I did, and slammed into a rock pile hard enough to cause an instant flat in my rear tire, and also hard enough to utterly fuck my big ring...not that one should ever need a big ring on an all-mountain bike.
One does however, need a rear tire. Something I frequently tell people is: "Never ride with just a patch kit, sometimes tubes can't be patched." Tonight, I gained another anecdote to back up that maxim. The inch long slash in my tube wasn't fixable, even with four patches over it.
All's well that ends well though. Bella and I had a great afternoon/evening in the woods. I learned a little more about the sweet sweet singletrack that Missoula has to offer. And, after a sorta nasty crash, the worst thing I had to endure was a 1.5 mile hike, while my dog frolicked in the woods, chasing down unwitting squirrels.
On top of all of that, there was a gorgeous sunset while driving home from the Rattlesnake.
She wanted to go mountain biking, and she wanted to do it right now. Bella and I loaded up the truck, and headed to the Wood's Gulch trailhead in The Rattlesnake.
The first few miles went by without incident, but, I'm new to the area, and I had to stop and consult the map a few times.
There are a lot of reasons to ride a knobby tire bike through the woods; fast flowy trails, the rush of adrenaline while cleaning a technical section, the pure athleticism of grinding up endless climbs, actually being able to feel your own soul, however, mountain biking is first and formost about exploring in the woods.
I hadn't really explored the Wood's Gulch trail past the logging road yet, so when I got there, I figured I keep heading up the singletrack to Blue Point. The climb is steep, loose, and technical enough, that I was looking forward to the downhill. Once Bella and I got to the top we enjoyed the view, and split a Clif Bar. I figure even Bella-the-endless-energy-herding-dog needs a snack after a steep, technical, climb.
After a little snack, Bella was reenergized, and decided to run hot laps around the summit.
Since my riding partner was ready to rawk, we pointed downhill and pinned it for 3.5 miles, flat out shredding. I kept checking to make sure Bella was with me, and every time I glanced back, there she was, right on my wheel. I got a text from Ricky Gnarmichal after every turn I railed. Until...
Sometimes, you take a wrong turn. Sometimes, you hesitate and think when you should just trust your instincts. Sometimes, your worn-out rear tire just doesn't hook up. Regardless of why I blew a corner, I did, and slammed into a rock pile hard enough to cause an instant flat in my rear tire, and also hard enough to utterly fuck my big ring...not that one should ever need a big ring on an all-mountain bike.
One does however, need a rear tire. Something I frequently tell people is: "Never ride with just a patch kit, sometimes tubes can't be patched." Tonight, I gained another anecdote to back up that maxim. The inch long slash in my tube wasn't fixable, even with four patches over it.
All's well that ends well though. Bella and I had a great afternoon/evening in the woods. I learned a little more about the sweet sweet singletrack that Missoula has to offer. And, after a sorta nasty crash, the worst thing I had to endure was a 1.5 mile hike, while my dog frolicked in the woods, chasing down unwitting squirrels.
On top of all of that, there was a gorgeous sunset while driving home from the Rattlesnake.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Bike Family
All four members of my nuclear family are cyclists. But all my close friends are cyclists as well, and friends are family that you consciously choose.
When I started grad school in Bozeman, I was socially isolated for the first time in a long time. However, one of my fellow grads, Seth, turned out to be one of those people for whom cycling is more of a lifestyle/religion, than an activity. Seth introduced me to other Bozeman cyclists like John and Mason, these guys quickly became friends and brothers. Through my contact with these individuals I became intricately plugged in to the Bozeman cycling scene, and I formed meaningful social connections more significant than I'd known previously.
Several years ago John asked me if I wanted to drive to Boise ID for an alleycat called 'Liverdance'. He knew a Boise cyclist dubbed 'Charlie The Ninja', who would let us crash at his place for the weekend. I'm generally socially awkward enough, that I'd normally be apprehensive about hanging with some random people, in an unfamiliar town. But, these were cyclists, so I didn't give it a moment's thought. After a harrowing drive in an '84 Toyota, John and I made it to Boise, and beheld a shadowy figure, beside the road.
I hopped out of the car, and threw my left hand up just fast enough to catch a Bud Diesel tallboy. Another tallboy was delivered to John, along with a command to 'slam those beers, and get your bikes out of the car, we've got 30 minutes before "last call"'. We did as told, and soon the three of us were racing fixies in the middle of the night, through a town I'd never been in before, to some bar. I don't remember if I even shook the guy's hand, but I do remember feeling I'd been accepted immediately into the pack. Upon reaching the bar, there was shaking of hands, drinking of whiskey, and talking of shit from people I'd never met, who treated me like an old friend, just because I was a fellow cyclist.
On another occasion, I received communication from MtnBikingGirl that she and her boyfriend were going to be in Bozeman. I didn't hesitate to offer them a futon, these people are cyclists, and automatically, I considered them family. When my roommate asked me how I knew these people, I replied that I knew them from 'The Internet', but they were cyclists. She was actually incredulous for a moment, until I reminded her that I only knew her because she is a cyclist, and her cyclist boyfriend had looked up Bozeman cyclists in order to find people to connect with when she moved to Bozeman. The irony was palpable, and beautiful.
I could recount many more anecdotes, like how SamH showed up at the Bozeman Bike Kitchen, and I knew in about ten minutes that he and I would become friends approximating brothers, or how Reuben and Alice met during bike polo, and then got married. But, the basic thesis is this, bike people are a pack, like a family. It doesn't matter if I've never met someone before, if they're a cyclist, I know in my soul that they're a member of my pack, they're family.
When I started grad school in Bozeman, I was socially isolated for the first time in a long time. However, one of my fellow grads, Seth, turned out to be one of those people for whom cycling is more of a lifestyle/religion, than an activity. Seth introduced me to other Bozeman cyclists like John and Mason, these guys quickly became friends and brothers. Through my contact with these individuals I became intricately plugged in to the Bozeman cycling scene, and I formed meaningful social connections more significant than I'd known previously.
Several years ago John asked me if I wanted to drive to Boise ID for an alleycat called 'Liverdance'. He knew a Boise cyclist dubbed 'Charlie The Ninja', who would let us crash at his place for the weekend. I'm generally socially awkward enough, that I'd normally be apprehensive about hanging with some random people, in an unfamiliar town. But, these were cyclists, so I didn't give it a moment's thought. After a harrowing drive in an '84 Toyota, John and I made it to Boise, and beheld a shadowy figure, beside the road.
I hopped out of the car, and threw my left hand up just fast enough to catch a Bud Diesel tallboy. Another tallboy was delivered to John, along with a command to 'slam those beers, and get your bikes out of the car, we've got 30 minutes before "last call"'. We did as told, and soon the three of us were racing fixies in the middle of the night, through a town I'd never been in before, to some bar. I don't remember if I even shook the guy's hand, but I do remember feeling I'd been accepted immediately into the pack. Upon reaching the bar, there was shaking of hands, drinking of whiskey, and talking of shit from people I'd never met, who treated me like an old friend, just because I was a fellow cyclist.
On another occasion, I received communication from MtnBikingGirl that she and her boyfriend were going to be in Bozeman. I didn't hesitate to offer them a futon, these people are cyclists, and automatically, I considered them family. When my roommate asked me how I knew these people, I replied that I knew them from 'The Internet', but they were cyclists. She was actually incredulous for a moment, until I reminded her that I only knew her because she is a cyclist, and her cyclist boyfriend had looked up Bozeman cyclists in order to find people to connect with when she moved to Bozeman. The irony was palpable, and beautiful.
I could recount many more anecdotes, like how SamH showed up at the Bozeman Bike Kitchen, and I knew in about ten minutes that he and I would become friends approximating brothers, or how Reuben and Alice met during bike polo, and then got married. But, the basic thesis is this, bike people are a pack, like a family. It doesn't matter if I've never met someone before, if they're a cyclist, I know in my soul that they're a member of my pack, they're family.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Oh yeh...That's right...I like to ride bikes
I'm a pretty mediocre guy, but I hang out with some really badass people. A couple years ago, I was riding between 8 and 20 miles per day, winter or summer, night or day. The last few months though, I've been in a hole, and I've barely been riding more than 3-5 miles per day.
But leading up to New Years, SamH continually expressed interest in a midnight, new year's eve bike ride. Before heading to the new years party, I made sure to outfit in suitable cold weather clothing, just in case a ride ensued, it was 17 below zero when I left my house.
The party went normally until about 11:30pm, until my wolfpack started girding for a cold-weather bike ride. We headed out, 12 strong, and did a 5 block route, and went back to the party. At this point SamH and Tom stated that they wanted to put on some real miles. A destination 2 miles away was suggested, then I threw out heading to East Gallatin Rec, about 7 miles away. The three of us seemed to think that was a good idea, and with reckless abandon, we headed out on a 14 mile ride, at midnight, in weather far colder than negative 10 Fahrenheit.
It was cold tonight, but midway through the ride, I needed to shed a layer, and I enjoyed every moment of tonight's absurdity. After reaching our destination (East Gallatin Rec) we decided to take the long way to The Filling Station for a drink, and I have to say, my Supernova E3 Triple served me well in the utter darkness of a gravel road far north of Bozeman.
What did I learn from tonight's midnight bike ride in sub freezing temperatures? I learned something I've always known, but forgot, I really really like to ride my bike, even in the middle of the night in the dead of winter. In fact, I think I enjoy riding my bike even more in the dead of winter, in the middle of the night. Bring that inclement shit!!
But leading up to New Years, SamH continually expressed interest in a midnight, new year's eve bike ride. Before heading to the new years party, I made sure to outfit in suitable cold weather clothing, just in case a ride ensued, it was 17 below zero when I left my house.
The party went normally until about 11:30pm, until my wolfpack started girding for a cold-weather bike ride. We headed out, 12 strong, and did a 5 block route, and went back to the party. At this point SamH and Tom stated that they wanted to put on some real miles. A destination 2 miles away was suggested, then I threw out heading to East Gallatin Rec, about 7 miles away. The three of us seemed to think that was a good idea, and with reckless abandon, we headed out on a 14 mile ride, at midnight, in weather far colder than negative 10 Fahrenheit.
It was cold tonight, but midway through the ride, I needed to shed a layer, and I enjoyed every moment of tonight's absurdity. After reaching our destination (East Gallatin Rec) we decided to take the long way to The Filling Station for a drink, and I have to say, my Supernova E3 Triple served me well in the utter darkness of a gravel road far north of Bozeman.
What did I learn from tonight's midnight bike ride in sub freezing temperatures? I learned something I've always known, but forgot, I really really like to ride my bike, even in the middle of the night in the dead of winter. In fact, I think I enjoy riding my bike even more in the dead of winter, in the middle of the night. Bring that inclement shit!!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wolfpack
Canis lupus
Fierce, lean, loyal, social predators, cyclists run in packs.
When I encounter another cyclist, I know without doubt that they are family.
Fierce, lean, loyal, social predators, cyclists run in packs.
When I encounter another cyclist, I know without doubt that they are family.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Hauling stuff by bike makes me happy, ergo I laugh like a fool whilst doing so
I quite enjoy using a bicycle to haul loads most people would decide to use an automobile for. When my friend SamH decided to recrute load-bike riders to move him from one house to another, I jumped at the chance to be involved.
The person laughing like an idiot in this video is me. I definitely wouldn't be remotely so mirthful if I'd been using my car to help move my friend.
Your fossil-fuel burning conveyance is unnecessary in a world with readily available load-hauling bicycles such as the Xtracycle and the Madsen. Rethink your reality. Americans have been sold on a life of convenience that is unhealthy to the point of reducing their life-span, and happiness.
I bet you've got a bike in your garage, collecting dust, sitting next to your inefficient, oil-burning car. I'm certain you'll have more fun riding your bike than driving your SUV.
Moving by Bicycle - 2010 from samh on Vimeo.
The person laughing like an idiot in this video is me. I definitely wouldn't be remotely so mirthful if I'd been using my car to help move my friend.
Your fossil-fuel burning conveyance is unnecessary in a world with readily available load-hauling bicycles such as the Xtracycle and the Madsen. Rethink your reality. Americans have been sold on a life of convenience that is unhealthy to the point of reducing their life-span, and happiness.
I bet you've got a bike in your garage, collecting dust, sitting next to your inefficient, oil-burning car. I'm certain you'll have more fun riding your bike than driving your SUV.
Moving by Bicycle - 2010 from samh on Vimeo.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Hauling stuff makes me happy.
There a lot of things related to riding bikes that I like. I like Mountain Biking, I like alleycats, and I especially like Bozeman's own homegrown bicycling cooperative
But judging by this picture taken by SamH, what makes me really happy is hauling stuff on my Xtracycle.
But judging by this picture taken by SamH, what makes me really happy is hauling stuff on my Xtracycle.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
MTB season. Now in December
So, John is now part of the Specialized Trail Crew. Without going in to all the details, the big S gave him an S-works Stumpy and a bunch of gear, and in return he blogs, tweets, etc.
He also makes videos, the most recent is below. If you squint you'll see me here and there, amongst shots of an extremely well designed suspension doing what it does.
For the record, I am not sponsored by anyone. Gary Fisher did just hook me up with a carbon HiFi, however, that's another story.
He also makes videos, the most recent is below. If you squint you'll see me here and there, amongst shots of an extremely well designed suspension doing what it does.
For the record, I am not sponsored by anyone. Gary Fisher did just hook me up with a carbon HiFi, however, that's another story.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
iPod FTW
I'll update this thing someday. Maybe when I'm done with my PhD. For now I'm typing on my iPod from an undisclosed location.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
January Trail Riding
Most people probably don't do a lot of trail riding in January. Fortunately my peeps are not most people. Biking season? We don't even know what that phrase means.Now go ride and smile.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
It's January...You know what that means?
I missed sprints. I missed it really bad. People are gonna hurt, people are gonna hurl, people are gonna throw DOWN for no reason other than the fact that they are on stage and they want to KICK. SOME. ASS. Welcome back Winter. I've had enmity towards you at times, but I see you now as one Samurai sees another, you are my most worthy adversary.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Twenty Three Miles
I didn't do a 'ride' today. I never set out to put on any real mileage, I was even kind of thinking I'd try to take it easy today, and yet just moving myself hither and thither netted me twenty-three miles. It's not really all that astounding, there are people that ride twice that in a daily commute. But, it's a couple gallons of gas in my truck. It's twenty-three miles I wouldn't have ridden otherwise, whether or not it was a 'ride'. It was twenty-three miles during which I could make my legs harder than they were when I woke up this morning.
The greatest wrestling coach, pretty much ever, Dan Gable, used to say that every minute of his life he was training. If he had to get across the University of Iowa campus, he did it at a run. My 'commuting' mileage could also be 'training' mileage, it's just a matter of perspective. Why not hammer on the way home from the grocery store? A fifty pound bike loaded with thirty pounds of crap is probably good resistance training. One hundred forty miles is a long way to travel in a day, particularly if you expect to finish by running a marathon. I'll probably need to seize every single opportunity I can get to prepare myself. One smelts iron with great heat and effort after all.
The greatest wrestling coach, pretty much ever, Dan Gable, used to say that every minute of his life he was training. If he had to get across the University of Iowa campus, he did it at a run. My 'commuting' mileage could also be 'training' mileage, it's just a matter of perspective. Why not hammer on the way home from the grocery store? A fifty pound bike loaded with thirty pounds of crap is probably good resistance training. One hundred forty miles is a long way to travel in a day, particularly if you expect to finish by running a marathon. I'll probably need to seize every single opportunity I can get to prepare myself. One smelts iron with great heat and effort after all.
Monday, December 29, 2008
T minus...well, we'll see...
There will come a day when there are more letters behind my name than "B.S" Shortly after I gain those extra letters, I'm doing this. Anyone who wants to accompany me is welcome for any and all of the 4,262 miles, side trips non-withstanding. Just sayin'.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Merry Christmas
I went over to DNA and Capt'n E's and we fried, well, pretty much everything.
Then I rode home in several inches of fresh snow, which was interesting to say the least.
Merry Christmas everybody!
Then I rode home in several inches of fresh snow, which was interesting to say the least.
Merry Christmas everybody!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
I blame my mother
There are those who consider Mt. Biking in the winter time to be "hard core", and commuting 100% by bike, year round, in Montana, to be patently ridiculous. Personally I consider both to be perfectly natural, especially since I live in a town with a high concentration of badasses. But for those of you who consider me outside the norm...well, it's not my fault. I place the blame firmly on the shoulders of my parents.
Consider Exhibit A. My Mom decided that since there was still five feet of open water on the lake (in December) that she would get her paddle on, never mind the ice and freezing water.
So it's not my fault, blame nature and/or nurture, but I take no credit/responsibility for my predilection towards "inappropriate" wintertime activities.
Next we'll get into my Dad. He and I decided to ride bikes on that same lake, two Decembers past. I don't have pictures, but after he fell through the ice, and extricated himself, he ran up to the house to change, and we then finished a ten mile ride, back on the ice.
Like I said, not my fault.
Mom. Dad. Love you guys. Thanks for the adventures.
Update: Here's my Pops out on a little ride.
Consider Exhibit A. My Mom decided that since there was still five feet of open water on the lake (in December) that she would get her paddle on, never mind the ice and freezing water.
So it's not my fault, blame nature and/or nurture, but I take no credit/responsibility for my predilection towards "inappropriate" wintertime activities.Next we'll get into my Dad. He and I decided to ride bikes on that same lake, two Decembers past. I don't have pictures, but after he fell through the ice, and extricated himself, he ran up to the house to change, and we then finished a ten mile ride, back on the ice.
Like I said, not my fault.
Mom. Dad. Love you guys. Thanks for the adventures.
Update: Here's my Pops out on a little ride.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Long Bike porn
Some cyclophilic buddies of mine have been conducting a series of real world (as well as patently ridiculous) tests pitting the Xtracycle against the Madsen. Keep your eye on the Practical Pedal blog for juicy updates.
Being present for some/all of this has afforded me some opportunities to snap some pics of the various long bikes belonging to my peeps. Here's a few. (BTW, I shouldn't really have to explain this, but if you click on each pic, it will open a much bigger/higher quality pic...just sayin')
I'm a dyed in the wool Xtracycle fan, but I will say, you can haul thirty or so gallons of water in the Madsen, which is interesting to say the least...rolling hottube anyone?
Being present for some/all of this has afforded me some opportunities to snap some pics of the various long bikes belonging to my peeps. Here's a few. (BTW, I shouldn't really have to explain this, but if you click on each pic, it will open a much bigger/higher quality pic...just sayin')
I'm a dyed in the wool Xtracycle fan, but I will say, you can haul thirty or so gallons of water in the Madsen, which is interesting to say the least...rolling hottube anyone?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)