Road work redux

January 8, 2016 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 28 Comments

The High Desert neighborhood makes a fine proving ground for touring machinery, with rolling terrain, light traffic and bike lanes.

Yesterday was one of those insanely busy days that should never afflict the underemployed. We’re not equipped for it.

The Marrakesh Express (c'mon, you knew it was coming sooner or later, right?). — The Marrakesh Express (c’mon, you knew it was coming sooner or later, right?).

With deadlines flitting around my scalp like Hunter S. Thompson’s Barstow bats I committed a few crimes against cycling, emailing back and forth with product managers, marketing wizards and editors; swapping bits of this and that from one bike to another; and bending fender stays around disc calipers, cutting all corners that looked even remotely cuttable, and beating on anything that wouldn’t cut with my favorite tool, the Bravo Foxtrot Hotel (look it up).

Then, before blasting off to the Whole Paycheck for supplies and liberating the Turk from the Nazi war dentist, I managed a brisk, 45-minute ride on the Salsa Marrakesh with full panniers.

It wasn’t actually snowing, which was nice —the temps were in the lower 40s, and I will even go so far as to say that this did not suck, not for January. You may quote me if you like.

This morning it was precipitating again, and Your Humble Narrator was all about writing bikes rather than riding them. Also, furthermore, moreover and too, there was the doctoring of the Turk, the roasting of the poblanos outdoors in a light snowfall, and the cooking of a medium-sized pot of lamb and white bean chili.

Speaking of cooking, now I seem to be slightly baked for some reason.

Road work

January 4, 2016January 4, 2016 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 11 Comments

I wanted to get a decent ride in today, as this is supposed to be the calm before the storm.

Lord, it was a beautiful day to ride the bike.

Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty. (Pay no attention to the leash on the field marshal.)

I was actually overdressed for a change — three long-sleeved jerseys, a light Pearl Izumi jacket with winter gloves, heavy Descente winter bib tights, wool socks, Sidis with Castelli booties, tuque under the helmet — and while I was glad for all that during my descent of Tramway, when I turned around and started climbing I began wishing that I’d clipped some panniers full of lighter-weight kit to the Salsa Marrakesh’s rear rack.

Instead, I stuffed the jacket into a jersey pocket and enjoyed the unexpected warmth.

The temps had risen to the low 40s by the time I returned to my heavily fortified compound, which I had left in the capable paws of Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein (commander, 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment).

The Turk’ reports that the most immediate threat to the security of El Rancho Pendejo comes not from Y’all-Qaeda, but rather from the skies. The weather wizards are calling for light snow through Friday.

Maybe we should ask the Weather Underground to occupy the Weather Underground.

Marrakesh Polar Express

December 26, 2015December 26, 2015 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 25 Comments

I was using the other hand to punch the snotsicles out of my beard.

Heated fenders. Has anyone invented heated fenders yet?

The first ride on the Salsa Marrakesh is in the books. You may be amused to recall that Marrakesh is in the Kingdom of Morocco, where the average temperature would have the devil pitching a bitch and snow pops round about as often as democracy.

There is a “ski town” about 45 miles south of Marrakesh, in the Atlas Mountains. I’ve been saving all my money to take you there.* But its chairlift is a donkey and I hear the Mexican food sucks.

* Well, Graham Nash has, anyway.

Wrapping up times two

December 23, 2015 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 6 Comments

Today's weather was Traitorous. — Today’s weather was Traitorous.

I’m wrapping up my review of the Traitor Wander, and had to wrap myself up to do it.

By the time I waddled out the door wearing winter bib tights, two jerseys, and a jacket in addition to the usual, we had already seen a light rain, a soupçon of snow, and finally a brief splash of sunshine (that was what sent me out the door).

When I stopped to snap the pic a bit of popcorn snow was flitting about like the media at a Trump rally, awaiting the outrage du jour. Must be December or something. Next thing you know, Christmas. Sheesh.

Next up for a test ride is the Salsa Marrakesh, which shares a nine-speed drivetrain and a Brooks saddle with the Traitor, but pulls the bulk of its components from a slightly higher shelf.

Most welcome right off the bat is a proper bailout gear for a loaded tourer: 26×34 (around 21 gear inches). Baldheaded old farts everywhere rejoice.

Turning Traitor

December 19, 2015December 20, 2015 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 10 Comments

The Traitor Wander parked at the northern end of the Tramway bike path. They can still run you over on this thing, but they can't claim they never saw you. — The Traitor Wander parked at the northern end of the Tramway bike path. They can still run you over on this thing, but they can’t claim they never saw you.

The temps finally inched above 40 yesterday afternoon so I kitted up and got out for a short ride on the Traitor Wander, the next bike in line for review in Adventure Cyclist.

I’m no longer equipped for nor inclined to those long subfreezing training rides we used to enjoy Back In the Day®, when everyone dressed up like the little brother from “A Christmas Story.”

But 40-something I can handle, especially since I’m no longer afeared of fenders. The new Shimano XM7s help keep the toes toasty, too.

I briefly considered running, but I already had all that heavily loaded legwork under my belt from emptying Chez Dog, and I hadn’t been on a bike since returning to El Rancho Pendejo, so off I rolled.

I saw a few other desperadoes out there pedaling, a couple of them wearing shorts. That’s way past Manly Points and deep into Dummy Country.

Today the weatherperson is predicting a high in the low 50s, which is my idea of the perfect December day. So I’ll be out for more than an hour. So will everybody else, but as the Buddha has taught us, life is suffering. They’ll just have to suck it up and learn how to share the road with my fat ass.