Wednesday, December 12, 2012

get yer finger out of that

so i got me a surly moonlander.  yeah, it's big, and size does matter.  it was mostly Derf's fault, but somehow Glitter Gravel seemed to be involved as well.  she got a pug necro, and after wanting a fat bike forever, building hers, and knowing time's were about to change, followed by Derf sealing the deal with a resounding and powerful, "buy a moonlander? duh." ...all i could say was fuck it.

so a few days later i found myself pedaling 5inch tires through mud that ate the shoes off a raccoon.



we rode here and there and everywheres, over rocks, through corn fields, even jesus lizard style, giggling like little kids the entire time.  the amazing part was how nimble and confident the bicycle is, in that you just point in a direction and off you go.  it ain't fast, it just goes everywhere.

on the trail it was bliss.  however, high tech trails (super tight, twisty and all rocks and roots with a little dirt sprinkled here and there, aka east coast style) are barely effected by what this machine has to offer other than insane traction.  it was still mighty difficult to attack with the knife edge needed while perched on rubber wider than most motorcycle tires.  however, this thing eats up gravel, grass, mud, and smoothish flowing single track like you would not believe.  i can't wait to see what i can get into with this beast.

the other cool part is it evens the playing field.  i've been riding and racing bikes off road for many moons, while Glitter Gravel has only been mountain biking for a year or so.  even though our skills are dramatically different, the fat bikes allowed us to both have an absolute blast, as it is not at all about speed... at all.  do you love riding in the woods and dirt and mud and muck, but yer buddy/partner/friend/foe doesn't?  then get a pair of fat bikes and head out, you won't be sorry.

so, if you are reading this, at this point, you should just go ahead and buy one now.  otherwise, santa will stomp a puppy... and he'll do it barefoot so the face lapping toddler squishes between his toes like a bag of crunchy pudding.  if you need anymore arm twisting, just look what dirty does with his.


yeah...  just like that.

next was a few days of fuzzy, where i'm not sure exactly what happened, what was dreamed, realized, planned, or executed, but i'm still alive counting all ten fingers and eleven toes.  there was a lot of bicycle riding, beer drinking, and waking up in yesterday's clothes, but that's about all i can remember.  no cops or lawyers or judges were involved in any way, so it had to be good.

i did find a dollar, which was probably pissed upon, but now gainfully unemployed i put it in my pocket anyway... cuz a 2x4 of Yuengling is less than $3, and that's a third of the way there!

 

seems my luck has been changing for a while, and this latest event has really opened me up to so many possibilities.  why the hell would i walk away from a buck?  hell, i could buy one of these right now with my new found wealth.

last night brought me to Music City Cycling's X-Mas Red Bench Ride Special.  a zip around town as fast as those little hipsters can pedal with some stops for whiskey, beers and stupidity.  at the end of this trail of tight pants and knog lights, seein' as i had nothing to lose, ripe peer pressure, group involvement, and more than enough liquid courage flowing through my circulatory system, i made the feeble and awful attempt at belting out Alien Ant Farm's cover of Smooth Criminal on the karaoke machine at Santa's Pub.  this was followed by two tone def duets with Chase (who was killing it) that brought on tears of fear, disgust, and horror at the cacophony of howls bellowing from my face hole... which in turn slingshot me into the end of the evening with buckets of love and affection.


the 25 degree ride was enough to sober me up just in time to get home and pass right the hell out, but not without making sure the new neighbors know who's living in the cellar down the street.


lock up yer daughters... i'm back.

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