hello, goodbye.

see you fuckers later.

with the plan of no plan and an exit strategy of run like the place is on fire, the hammer out of town and on to the adventure of a lifetime in the desert was on 'til the break of dawn.  traffic was beautiful, the sun was out, and everything was going just as well unplanned as it could go with no plan.

 but the car gods would have none of that.  just as things seemed to slide into a groove...

the stymy begins.  which was followed by another grand idea of shutting down the entire interstate and routing every tractor trailer from Virginia Beach to LA across the entire city of Memphis, aka the Gateway to Hell.  i never in my life thought i would love to see any sign of impending Bill Clinton.

so with the last of the energy available, and the launch of this mission of peace, love, and hangovers, a warm bed in a small interstate town could not be refused.  ...and this is where it set in.

I. Love. Yuengling.  even the shit from Florida, which is where it comes from if you are in the south.  after cleaning out my wears from fridge in the mad dash to get the flying fuck out of town, i failed to restock for the trip.  two.  only two Yuengs.  that's all, with absolutely zero prospects at one drop more.

the memory of the day i learned it was finally available in nashveg-ass came rushing back like a tsunami of smiles.  which was then followed by the crushing blow only akin to the feeling of abandonment only found in a puppy's eyes.

so with the acceptance of the loss, and a full appreciation for the feast laid before me, i cracked the seal and engulfed myself into the second to last of what fueled so many of my cherished memories.

thank you Yuengling, and your 184 years of service.

so the next stop is Austin Tex-ass, and that is actually the beginning.

last dance

i went for a beer run whilst in the middle of cleanin' cypherin' packin' and pilin', simply cuz there was no beer.  as it was saturday afternoon, 70 degrees, and one of the more pleasant days i've had in nashvegas in quite some time.  ...and wouldn't you know i'd run into Big Red, who himself was on the same path.

once we finished sitting in the sunshine, enjoying great conversation and libations, it came that time was not on our side, and i still needed to grab a twelve pack.  the dash was on to continue the chat on the bike while making headway in our daily deeds, until it was my turn again.

once that was taken care of, it was back to continue the work toward wednesday morning's lanchtime, so as to be prepared for Shep to take some aggression out on me.  Shep works third shift.  he's warmed up around midnight, 3:00am is crunch time.  around 1:00 is when he's passing cars regularly.  ...and this is the last time we're gunna drink.ride. for a very long time.  and so it began.

our second stop was a local pub full of professionals in their 30's that serves exotic brews with brightly colored labels and particular glasses designed for the brew in particular that one would be enjoying over conversations about the beer. 

along with this was kind of a National Geographic view of 20something's chasing each other, with posturing leans and body tweaks and pulses as almost a language of effort to lure an evening's mate.  the show was spectacular.



our fourth stop was about the best place i could have landed, as we had planned to go to Hooters just because, but they were closed.  i was amazed.  it almost seemed like home.  my kinda crowd.  great staff, quick work, killer menu, huge sandwiches, yuengling on draft.  as i understood it, it would be different than what it was.  and this happened.

they take two frozen glazed donuts, fry 'em on the skillet in the burger and chicken grease, they they become the bun.  the spider web you see, that's strands of melted glaze, and it's just as sticky and fucking everywhere.  when yer the first person on the trail in the spring and you get a beard of spider web?  that.


it took effort, i ate every damn bite.  even all the fries.  the only way i could describe it is the equivalent to getting pancake sirup on yer sausage.  but a lot of it.  i would love to know the fat and calories in this catastrophe of coronary packing death sandwich.


our sixth stop was definitely the 4:00am finale i was looking for, as shep climbed the balcony to gain us entry into SB's bachelor pad.  we tried with all of our might to to bring him from his slumber to a state of mind much like ours, but we had already worked through our second wind, and i spilled beer on his bed.

home safe and sound with just some scraped shins from slipping pedals...  But Wait! don't worry, karma took great car in equalizing the evening's dealings of pain on others.  i got to enjoy that donut burger, along with some of the earlier evening's meal, around 5:30am or so.  tasted the same.

so that's it.  next time i saddle up for a night on the town, it will be in another city.  thanks Nashvegas, some of you were pretty fun.  now i just have to wait 48 more hours...

everyday's a holiday

shortly after getting ride of a refrigerator, i was southbound even though it says east.  the land of kick ass mountain biking, small town goodness, and all around pleasantness beckoned.   it was the last opportunity i had to visit with a couple buds before i rolled out to lands unknown.

and being smarterer than the average bear, i made certain to get to the trail before everyone got out of work.  i give you Enterprise South.  this trail is smooth as butter and fast as hell.  it's basically ten miles of pumptrack sectioned off into three loops on an old dynamite government land thing.  as you go deeper into the system, the trail gets progressively faster, but not much rougher.  if you are interested in ripping through the trees like your on the moon of Endor, this is your bag of tricks.

in fact, if it was not directional, it would be overwhelmingly dangerous at the speeds you can attain.

so me being earlier to the party, i went ahead and started off like a flash knowing there was only one or two other people on the entire trail.  the first loop is rather small, and obviously a true beginning trail.  mind you, there are a couple hops skips and jumps you can grab some fun air on, or dive down the backside pumping out of a roller and snapping onto the next turn...  there are lots of turns, with berms, and it is so good.  perfect warm up.

upon entering the second loop, my confidence was lifted, as well as my tires, and i really got the groove into this.  so good in fact, i missed one of the turns and began the second loop twice.  well, about halfway through you come around a corner, up a little grade, and right in front of some atomic bunker of death that could only harbor some sort of goblin, unibomber, or Cthulhu,you will find a pump track.  holy shit.  yeah, pumptrack.  in the middle of the mountain bike trail.  truly awesome.

once i finished up my second roller coaster ride, it was time to meet up with Ralph.  so in true pro-racing form, we slammed a couple pints, clicked our shoes, and holy hell the race was on.

there is nothing better than riding a new to you trail with a local who knows every berm turn pump hump line climb and slide.  we floated down the singletrack like gazelles with reckless abandon on the brink of disaster until this freight train screeched to a halt in the parking lot.  there had to be a quarter mile section of pure flow, as we poured over the rises and falls, plowed through turns and powered on the transitions.  this was one of the most intense rides i have had in years.  at times i didn't feel like i was breathing.  it was amazing.

if you are ever in chatty, there are a great number of trails you should ride, just make sure you let it all go on this one.  don't hold anything back.  it will be worth it.

once we'd had enough, and the ranger had driven by enough times to spook us while we finished off the last of the beers, we called it a day and headed off to our respective dinner engagements. 

act 2

the Terminal Brewhouse next to the Chattanooga Choo Choo is one of my favorite post ride haunts.  the J. and i rolled into a full house and bellied up to the bar for some kick ass food and some really great beers.  they have bison burger.  you feel like a cowboy when you eat bison, well, i do.

once our tummies were satisfied with the serving of meat, grease and yeast, it was off to yet another Brewhaus to make certain we would not be able to remember everything important that transpired that evening. 

 

i know we had fun, but i;m not exactly sure how where and why.  enjoy my black spots.  the J. had an appointment at 8:00am, and as we were wide awake, cross eyed and still kicking after midnight (i remember looking at my phone around then), there was no turning back.  and that lead me to wake up on the sofa around 8:00am, alone and not hungover...  yet.  but it was coming.  i couldn't imagine the fun J. was having, knowing all too well he was in the same mindframe as me.

in a flash i was out the door and on the hunt for something to help me stave off the impending pain, as well as the necessary legal drugs to make the drive back to Nashy before too long.  i give you Daylight Donuts.  it was wonderful.  i walked in and exclaimed i needed the biggest coffee they had, a bag of donuts, and i had $10.  they looked deep into my blazing red eyes - through my sunglasses - and handed me a quart of deep, black hangover helper and three lbs of doughy goodness.  and an apple fritter.  my joy poured all over the floor, and it was almost followed by the previous evening's bison.

and less than three hours later, i was back in Nashy and all was good in the world.

thank you chattanooga!  it was great!  sorry if i made a mess...

confront comfort

so this is where i go insane trying to figure out what i should take, and what i should leave behind.  it's real easy on a weekend trip, even two weeks.  but i'm gunna be gone for months, a bunch of them.  sure, there will be purchases along the way, but i pretty much have everything i need already, so leaving the zero degree sleeping bag behind to not lug it around all summer makes sense, but what if i find i need one?

how the hell do people pack for six months in Antarctica? seriously.  look at this.

Sleeping bag rated to at least -35° Celsius.  wow.  looking over this, as well as the rest of the site and others on the interwebs, there is such a stark contrast between any two people who decide to not return to the same address nightly.  from people buying wal-mart bikes and riding across the country, to pack mule status like Russ and Laura, the personality of your gear gives a pretty good understanding of what kind of person you are.  guess that's kinda the primal thing.

i tend to purchase things that can do more than one job.  case in point, my new caffeine delivery device.

it's also just a pot to boil water in, or pasta or rice or soup or ham bones or whatever... just as long as you wash it between loads.  i have the same mindset with bicycles.  unless you have dedicated yourself to a single discipline, why buy a bicycle designed for only nice smooth pavement or only big drops?  take a moment to read this interview with Tom Ritchey.   "I thought all road bikes were gravel road bikes?"   exactly.  i gatta say, with the new old wave of "gravel bikes" coming out (which are just cyclocross bikes with relaxed geometry and silly disc brakes), it seems people are learning it's ok to give up a little weight and top speed to be able to turn around and explore that dirt road without worry of voiding your warranty.

either way, if you have decided to visit the south pole, here's the link.  send pictures.  i'm not doing that.

so back to the packing sorting finding wondering pondering and wandering i go.  as you read this, i'll be on my way to chattanooga for a quick overnighter, so friday should be a little bit more colorful and way more mountain bikey.

so while i drive the interstate, watching the world go by at more than a mile a minute, please...  enjoy some booty.

DIPLO "Butter's Theme" (ft. Gent & Jawns) from GABRIEL THOMAS A on Vimeo.


i like the upsidedown crosses on their butts.  hey, speaking of which, they choose a pope yet?

T-minus 10

well, here's my long slow goodbye.  as of the time you are reading this i have less than ten days left in Nashvegas... assuming yer reading it the day it's shot through Al Gore's tube all over the internet like the after party of Lisa Sparks next record breaking moment.

so...  what's next?

well...  dunno actually.  the current plan is to load up the truck with bikes and beer and camping stuffs and what nots and this and thats and roll outta here toward the Specific ocean.

here's the route:

fuck yeah.

the drink.ride. tour could be coming to your city.  there's a couple days i need to be certain places, but outside of that, i'm open to most anything.  in fact, if you live in or on the way to Austin Tex-Ass, Tuscon Arizona, or West Oakland Cali-forn-i-a, you'll be on the first leg of the trip.  there's one deadline of rolling into the city on the bay the second week of april, cuz i have to be an adult and work toward an income so i can afford the biggin's, but that doesn't mean i'll start working immediately... but i might.

so unless something in San Fran ties me down, the slog to the east coast will commence the following week.  and next stop on the tour is Minneapolis Minnesota for the Almanzo 100.  that will give the drink.ride. crew a little rest and relaxation before heading south to permanently disfigure and or destroy Decorah Iowa, and then it's on to Emporia Kansas for the Dirty Kanza.

and that's kinda where it all falls apart.

well, sort of.  haven't quite got to planning that part yet.  the one thing i do know is, you've only got one shot at this, and it will not be wasted.  but no matter what, there is only one rule.

no problem.

real bicycle advocavy

Ride for Reading.

i have been so lucky to be a part of this organization.  delivering books to children who actually want them, by bicycle, with local businesses helping out.  this is what a cycling community is.

it is a force.  a collective of people that know giving back is the greatest reward there is.

but you know the one thing that i never see people understand?  when a child has a pleasant, respectful and understanding experience with an unknown cyclist, one that is not only of caring and the joy of helping others, but of learning and bettering oneself.  and you know what happens?  that kid has something positive to believe about those people riding their bicycles in the street.

these people give a fuck about the kids, their well being, and hope that the small, almost insignificant time they spend together picking out a book, or talking about it, or just walking away and watching the children basking in the love and care of the whole event, they hope to give that child a positive and educational experience that lasts a lifetime.

and some of them do.


kids speak the truth.  when a parent is driving the child, and they come upon a cyclist, the kid will have a connection with them, simply because a local bike shop owner closed their business to attend, a local state worker called in sick, and a local professional took a half day off to deliver some books to a school on a bicycle.

this changes the biggest problem cyclists face today, us versus them.

it creates empathy ...and there is no better advocacy.






so now that yer brain is all twisted into a ball of "whatthefuck?", get yer loin cloth on and join us tomorrow for the Fuck You Everybody.

because it works

ride local?

buy local.

simple as that.

Wal-Mart does not give a fuck about you riding your bike to shop their stores, even if you got it from them.

nope.  i promise.  if this person is common enough that a whole website could be devoted to exploitation... for years...  they just do not care for you to ride your bicycle to the store.  you don't spend enough money.  you won't.  ever.  and this is target, kroger, whole foods, all of 'em.  you don't take a buggy full home in the panniers you got a good will that are strapped to some rickety old rack atop your 1984 Schwinn.  nope.  and they don't want to sell you just a couple things.  proof?  self check out.  they don't even want to spend the money on a 15 items or less lane.

local cares.  even if they don't know it.  when you ride you bicycle to a local business, it shows them you live in the neighborhood of their business.  other customers that live within a mile or so will see you, and maybe on some sunny saturday afternoon, they put on pastel sweaters, Ray Bans, and pedal those old beach cruisers down for lunch.  hey, your community is becoming bike friendly.

Holy.  Shit.

you know what?  your house is started to work it's way around, and not be upside down.

really?

yup.

did you ever think for a second that the more people out on your street, walking around, kids playing, riding bicycles...  you know, more eyes on your shit, and your neighbor's shit, and across the street's shit... the less crime will occur?  uh, duh.

the less crime, the more desirable the neighborhood is to live.  the increase in people moving in, gentrification mind you (we all know this is how it works), brings in a higher class.  then restaurants.  retail.  tax dollars rollin' in.  property values rise.

who wouldn't want a piece of that?

revolution, community style.

bitch.