Midnight Rant (Beer fueled)

Bikes are dope. Dirt, road, day, or night. Rain or sun, I love to ride. I like, watching, dreaming, fixing, talking, reading bikes.  I told Gina the other day, when my time comes, I want a few things.

1) Keg of Happy Camper IPA at my funeral (drink it, like it or not, it's my day).
2) Ride your bike to my funeral, no excuses not to, I mean really, it's a last request.
3) Hopefully, everyone there will be old as cold shit (excuse my language) because I want to live a long time.

I admire people who are guru's of bike riding, repair, and creation. I admire women, like my wife, who shred the living daylight out of trails and get crazy stoked about it. I love scary features, hero dirt, gnarly wrecks that push the reset button, ridiculous trail-side repairs, armchair experts, people who size me up and have no idea that I ride crazy long, hard, and scary trails because I have a full-on problem. I love ridiculous challenges and trying off the wall ways of riding (fixie mountain biking, BYRDO!).

I want to change the world with two grips, a frame, two wheels, a chain, and a ferociously dedicated bicycle powered brain.  I want to make and eat my bread with my bike. I want to get my mom on a trike, recumbent, tandem, any kind of bike.  I want to fuel my son's passion for bikes so when he turns twelve, he, his mom, and I can drop the grid, ride across this amazing country and take in every ounce of pedal powered goodness.  I want to live in a town with pedal up drive throughs, pedal powered cops and pedal triggered lights at every stop.

I love my life through the lens of my bike. My beer is empty, good night.

Singlewhat???

Just when riding a singlespeed couldn't get radder, boom! I built myself a singlespeed road bike.  Blasphemy you Coloradans say? Correct, but I don't live in that mountainous mountain of a state anymore so in the words of Drew, I say to singlespeed road biking, WORD!

Beetle-Juice, Beetle-Juice, Beetle-Juice!

The Redline has been free since its revival a few months back.  Recently, one of my co-workers has been talking about fixie mountain bikes.  Like Beetle Juice back in the day, he said "fixie" three times and I was compelled to bring mine back.  I rode it today and remembered how much fun it is to clip rocks with my cranks and spin as fast as humanly possible while descending. It may stay this way for a while.

The Coolest Place You Have Never Ridden

Built in natural "rest area" on Newham Trail

I am convinced that, when it comes to quality trails, Flagstaff, Arizona wants to be a sleeper town.  That is the only way a place with trails as rad as Flag stays relatively unknown.

Nice rest area on Sunset Trail

That Itch Again...

I'm jonesing for a safety scissor blue Karate Monkey frame set real bad. It's like when I was thinking about proposing to my wife and I thought, "That's crazy thinking" but I kept thinking about it. Yeah, it's like that. Perhaps a better analogy is, I feel the same way about the Karate Monkey as Homer feels about donuts.

No Dirt

My plan for the forest closure:

Daydream about riding restricted trails.
Daydream about riding a bike I don't own on restricted trails.
Drive to a place where trails aren't restricted and ride.
Ride on the roads next to restricted trails and daydream about riding them.
Drink beer in my back yard and stare at the mountain with the closed trails.
Ride the few trails that are open along with all the other mountain bikers in the Albuquerque area.

Life Lessons

I learn important life lessons on my mountain bike. For instance, any time a hill I've never ridden before gets too steep and I get off, the end is always right around the bend. Any time I'm not having fun on the bike, its because I have lost sight of why I'm riding in the first place.


I always tell people that I am not a racer and they give me a puzzled look. I finally figured out why I say it. Life is too short to race through. Go slow, ride long and enjoy it.