11 August 2016

The stoke goes ever on

Summer's over, at least by my reckoning it is.  Was a good one.

The stoke goes ever on.













24 July 2016

Just about a bike: Surly Cross-Check

My Cross-Check in winter
with studded Schwalbes
Early in the summer of 2001, about six months after I bought my first Surly, a Steamroller, I bought my second, a Cross-Check.  I've got a third Surly now, too.  A Pugsley.

I had visions in my head back then of trying my hand at cyclocross racing.  At the time I thought I might excel in the format.  But to this day, I've yet to enter such a race and don't think I ever will.  That ship has surely sailed.

Click images to embiggen
Nevertheless, while never having been raced, my Cross-Check, as the dings in its paintjob will attest, has seen thousands of miles of trails and roads, both dirt and paved, over the years.  It's that much fun to ride.  I consider it a kind of lifeboat bicycle... as in it's commonly been my response to the question I often get when folks visit my garage, "If you had to sell all your bikes and could only keep one, which one do you think you would save?"   For a long, long time, my answer was this simple, inexpensive, utilitarian bike, my Surly Cross-Check. Though frankly, in the last year-and-a-half, my answer's certainly changed to my Coconino, just because it's truly my bike and plays especially beautiful music for me.

But why keep the Cross-Check rather than one of the others?

Well, it's kinda surprising, but, despite the fact that the Cross-Check, with it's rigid fork, dropbars, and 700x34 tires pumped to 55psi, is almost always a bike somewhat less than ideally suited to whatever ride you're on (ie: the wrong bike), it's also almost always an adequate bike for any given situation.  It's not a cross country mountain bike, or a svelte road bike, or a long stable touring bike.  But it can do all of these things.  It won't always keep up with other bikes designed specifically for any of these aforementioned purposes, but it can handle just about anything you throw at it.  It might be a little scary, or sketchy, or slow in doing it.  But it can do it.  As long as you've got the cojones to ask it to.

I know this from 15+ years of experience with this bike: If all you had in your quiver was a Surly Cross-Check, you'd be okay for doing most bike rides, at least the kinds of bike rides I like to do: swoopy singletrack shredding, lengthy gravel grinders, and longish road rides.

So, if I had to have just one bike, and if I didn't have my Coconino, I'd still say, "The Cross-Check, that's the one I'll push out of the lifeboat last."  And I think that's pretty high praise.

Back in 2001, when this bike arrived as a frameset at the shop where I worked, I was still pretty fixated on old school parts and accessories.  So, as with my Steamroller, I did my best to outfit the Cross-Check with a few cool pieces of old spec, like Mafac brakes and levers, a WTB Dirtdrop handebar, WTB shifter mounts, Shimano XT thumbies, a Suntour MicroDrive crankset, and a gun-metal blue and silver XTR M900 rear derailleur, which is, hands down, the most beautiful derailleur Shimano ever made.

Also of note is the fact that it's a bean-green Reynolds 631 Cross-Check, of which only a few hundred were made.  They were only available for a short period of time in 2000-2001.  Surly bikes are usually made of 4130 chromo, you see, so I think the boutique-y butted tubeset makes this particular bike somewhat uncommon.


20 July 2016

Just about a bike: Surly Steamroller

Click images to enlarge
Long before I got my Pugsley, which of all my Surly bikes I hands-down ride the most these days, I got a Steamroller (and a little later, a Cross Check).  A mud brown, first-generation Steamroller, in fact, sold then (as now) as a frame-set only.  I like to imagine that I was an early-adopter of the whole fixed-gear thing.  Not true by a century or two, I know.  But still, in these parts, when I bought it back in 2000, there weren't very many of us riding fixed, that's for sure.

I built the bike from the ground up, including the wheels, doing what I could to emulate Rivendell's whole older-is-often-better ideal wherever I could along the way.  So I've procured a few choice parts for it over the years: high flange silver Suzue track hubs, silver Nitto B115 bars, black cotton Velox bar tape and end-plugs, a black Suntour XC stem, a black IRD seatpost, a black Chris King 1" 2-nut headset, leather hub-shiners, non-aero Dura Ace brakes and levers, and a set of purple Cook Bros. cranks (a gift from an old friend).  I also drilled and plus-nutted a second bottle cage mount into the downtube, just because we had the template for doing so at the bike shop where I was working that summer.

The rear hub flip-flops, but I usually run it fixed, even though I always keep two brakes on it, because if I ride it I'm probably going to ride it in the woods.  And, trust me, two brakes are better than one when you're riding a fixed gear bike on Conti Top Touring 32s out in the woods.

I rode the Steamroller a lot back in the day, when it was pretty much my only "road" bike.  Centuried on it a couple times, and took it on some pretty fun, gnarly, long forest road-and-trail rides, too.  We call them gravel grinders now.  Back then they were just rides where we took the wrong bike out on a long ride and had a blast.

Sad thing is, I hardly ever ride the Steamroller anymore.  It tends to get forgotten, gathering dust as it hangs from the ceiling in the garage. In fact, just the other night, when posting to a thread in an online forum, Post Your Steel Singlespeed, I put up pictures of my Coconino and my Rock Lobster singlespeeds and forgot all about my classic Surly Steamroller.  That is until the poster who posted after me put up a picture of his Steamroller, inspiring me to: A) write this blog entry and then B) go and amend my post in the forum to include my Steamroller, too.

In order to do so, I rode the Steamroller out into the woods this afternoon, on a quick jaunt just after the rain stopped.  'Twas lovely out and the bike was a good and solid ride on the soft wet trails.  A nice reminder of why I've always enjoyed riding it and why I should do so more often.

I intend to.




07 June 2016

In other news, the stoke has been ample

Since my last photo-dump in November... and despite our recent sadness... there have been other moments, too, where fortunately the stoke has been ample.

These are some of them.























25 May 2016

Jack

Jack was a consolation, as was Jackie, which preceded it for a time.  A nod to his mother's side of the family, the Jacksons.

He was Jack every day of his life.

But John was his given name, as it is mine.  Eldest sons on the Coe-side of our family have bounced around in naming between Percy and John for many a generation.

Like all good dads, he was full of stories.  And lessons.  Patience.  And advice.

He died yesterday.  Peacefully.  In my mother's arms, his wife of 52 years.  It was beautiful.  And so sad.  The way death should be.

And he had everything ready.  The bills.  The insurance invoices.  The bank statements.  All of it.  We weren't surprised by this, as we looked through his desk.  But we shook our heads and smiled,

"Somehow, he knew."

"He had to have known."

It was like him not to have said a word.

I'm going to miss him terribly.  His stories.  His advice.

His dirty Saturday T-shirts.  His well-worn, deeply imprinted backyard flip-flops.  The scent of his cologne.  His Brylcreemed hair. The way he said, "John," whenever he got on the phone with me.  How he always seemed so genuinely pleased to spend any amount of time with my wife and, most especially, our daughter.  His compulsion to talk to his dog.  The way he never really needed to be with anyone other than my mom.  How he mourned forever the loss of his old Corvette.  The way he would perseverate over the clarity of the water in his pool.  And speak broken farm-hand Spanish to the crew who cut his grass. Or select just the right song for a given context, and sing with great accuracy every word of the lyric.

Wise men say...

I aspire to be a dad such as he was, and hope to be remembered by my own kid, when my time comes to shuffle off, with the same sort of sincere affection and abiding, poured-out sense of loss that I feel for him.

Here's to happy endings, Pop.