Nope. No berries. Not yet.

For the past few years, about this time of the season, we've gone down to a nice, kinda secret, quiet spot on Oak Creek to harvest blackberries.  This year we went too early and harvested maybe 12 ripe berries in all.  The rest were all still small and green, weeks away from being ready.  

Fortunately, we did arrive right after a rain, so the air was misty and cool and the creek clear and cold. We waded around for a bit and then drove down to Sedona for lunch.

We'll go again in a few weeks, sometime mid-August, I think.  The berries in our secret spot should be ripe by then.

Little cat feet

The trails near Schultz Pass, puddle-wonderful, enshrouded in fog, covered in hail, were uncommonly spectacular this afternoon.

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg

Just about a bike: Surly Pugsley [UPDATED]

Select images to enlarge

I've been riding my new Pugsley a lot since I got it. Almost daily, I'd say. 

And the simple fact of the matter is: There is a lot to love about this bike. 

And just a little to get used to. 

And pretty much nothing that's too-terribly-bad about it. 

Safe to say, of all my bikes, none gets rode harder or (quite literally) gets put away wetter than my Pugsley.

---

Pugsley by Surly from Rivendell Reader #39 [.pdf]
Reproduced with permission

In spring 2007 Rivendell Bicycle Works ran an article in issue #39 [.pdf] of their quarterly newsletter, The Rivendell Reader, about the Surly Pugsley, which, at the time, was basically a brand-new kind of production-bike, designed to be ridden over rough terrain and in sand and snow.

At that point in my life, I had worked for probably 10 of my summer "vacations" at a local bike shop and had, over the course of that time, through the shop's generous employee-purchase program, already bought two other Surly bikes, a Cross-Check and a Steamroller.

I am very fond of both of these somewhat unusual bikes and, even from the beginning, have always felt a real philosophical kinship with Surly's whole "thing," which is a lot like Rivendell's in a sense: quirky, utilitarian, and unperturbed by (if not openly defiant of) market-trends... but on a budget that's a bit more my speed.  Plus, as a gatherer and rider of many other odd bikes, each with its own very definite and discrete purpose, the Pugsley immediately made total sense to me.

Needless to say, I wanted a Pugsley from the get-go.

But, my fiscal bottom line at the time, and during the ensuing six years for that matter, made purchasing the not-so-cheap Pugsley impossible.  In fact, lately, I'd sorta come to the conclusion that a Pugsley and I were never meant to be together, despite my self-identified status as an ardent "follower" of all things Surly.

Fire: 20 June 2010

My experience tells me it's the third week of June when fire-season seems to begin in earnest around here; that's next week.  

Three years ago, on 20 June 2010, this happened:

The Schultz Fire. It was unimaginable.

It still is.

The editor of the Daily Sun, Randy Wilson, bumped into my friend Chris up on Waterline Road, which traverses the area most-devastated by the fire, last weekend.  He wrote an interesting article for the paper about his ride.

Below, I've embedded a fascinating video that shows, in some detail, how Hotshots defend a house during a fire.  It was shot this week, during the Black Forest Fire near Colorado Springs.

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Just about a bike: Schwinn Typhoon

Founding members of F.O.C.B.S.
(l-r) Joe Bob, Anthony, Ray, Johncoe, James

I'm all about riding "the wrong bike" around in the woods on any given day, and I do so, and likewise vocally advocate for doing so from atop my personal How I Think You Should Ride Your Bike soapbox, whenever I'm given the chance.

And, it pretty much goes without saying that my new Surly Pugsley is yet another proof of this concept and my commitment to it.  But this, dear reader, is not a post about my new Pugsley (though one's coming soon, to be sure).

No, this is a post about the Flagstaff Outlaw Coaster Brake Society, which is a recent creation of my old bike-shop boss, Anthony, who has a super sweet custom made Bomber Cycles cruiser which he likes to ride in the woods now and then, and until now, mostly alone.

Today we met by Facebook(damn you fuking fakebook)-invitation-only at the bottom of Schultz Creek trail for the Society's inaugural ride.  Five of us showed up on coaster-brake bikes of varying vintages and questionable suitabilities to trail riding.

Joe Bob arrived on a sweet new New Belgium Fat Tire cruiser which he won at last summer's Clips Of Faith expo.  Tony was on his Bomber. Ray, on a sweet all-chrome late '80s Ross Mt. Whitney with fenders. 

I chose to ride my 1968, rather finely blinged-out (note: chrome fenders, ding-ding bell, and period-correct galvanized Wald wire basket) once-green Schwinn Typhoon. And James rolled up on his most-ancient, klunker-style ram's-head Schwinn cruiser sporting full-on massive paperboy handlebars and a nifty, "basketball" clamp-rack on the back!

We rode up Schultz, which, with long rest stops and brief periods of walking, took (shall we say) a while, all the way to the Sunset trail-head at the top of the pass.

We arrived at the top covered in ample quantities of both sweat and dirt (it's very dusty out these days) and asked a random kid waiting in the shade next to his bike to take our picture. This noticeably concerned his dad, who rolled up a moment later, just as junior was finishing capturing our pose.  But he remained concerned only briefly.  On seeing our bikes, he quickly dropped his guard and instead began asking about our bikes, our sanity, and our ride up.

From this point, it was mostly downhill, though only in the geographic sense.  Fortunately, Ray surprised us all by breaking out a six-pack of The King he'd been hiding in his trunk-bag for the whole ride.  So, before we rolled down the mountain with only our antique coasters to slow us, we sat down for yet another period of well-deserved respite, this time with tasty, if not nearly luke-warm, bevies all around.

Good call, Ray!

The ride down was a hoot! And pleasantly uneventful, even by more appropriately prep'd mountain-bike-ride standards: there was no blood, not one catastrophic mechanical breakdown, and zero flat tires!

Quite insightfully, James observed at one point during the descent that "we should put some better parts on these old bikes, maybe a derailleur and some good brakes, and man, then this riding-bikes-in-the-woods-thing could really be fun."

I thought his wry observation was hilarious.


Getting accustomed to using a coaster brake and a big, heavy, long-wheelbased bike with basket and rattly fenders on singletrack really isn't all that hard, just challenging, like anything else new.  The only really scary part of the experience comes when your feet both pop off the pedals unexpectedly and you realize, in that instant, that you've just lost your brakes. Completely.

Fortunately, dragging your feet on the ground to slow your rate of descent works pretty well on most surfaces.

 

Race me!

After my ride today I weighed 192 pounds, more than a bit on the portly side for a six-footer like me.

I am 46 years old and I work a lot, at least 50 hours a week, often more.  I've got a gut and way more flab around my middle than I'd like.  After a couple of years doing this new job, my once-indelible arm and leg lycra tan-lines have faded almost to nothing.

I ride nearly every weekend, both days usually. But that's about it.  On very rare occasions, I get out to ride perhaps one day during the week for maybe an hour or so.  I used to commute to work by bike, everyday for almost 20 years, but I hardly ever do so anymore; I've got meetings I need to get to all over town.

Today I took a vacation-day from work (I've got got to use them up before 30 June) and spent some of it riding in the woods.

There is a mountain bike race near town this weekend.  Sadly, I am definitely not fit enough to race on Saturday.

See?  KOM.  For today...

But, come the end of July, I just might be.

So here's what I propose: you should race me!

Today I set an initial time using Strava on a little 8-mile loop I've labeled Orion Spring TT.  It took me and my big fat butt 56 minutes flat to ride it.  It climbs about 1000 feet overall, pretty relentlessly from the git-go, in my opinion.  It's a really fun lap.

For today I am the KOM (king of the mountain, natch) of this loop on Strava.

My challenge is simple: If you are the KOM on this loop on 31 July 2013, I will send you $50.00 cash.  If I am KOM I get to keep my money.

Simple.

If you want to play along, send me an email and tell me your Strava name.  I'll follow you and, if you end up the KOM on this loop rather than me on 31 July, the money is yours.  No kidding.

I'm hopeful this little investment will motivate me to get on my bike a bit more and, likewise, that it might make for an interesting game this summer, as I work to chase down all of you fast kids, and you work to take my money.

You've got nothing to lose.  I've got 50 bucks to lose. If I'm not KOM on 31 July, the actual KOM (you?) gets the money.  If I am KOM, I keep it.

Capish?

The route is simple: Start on Schultz at the second "left-hand exit," the one after the rock-garden that goes up past the big rock that looks like a giant saddle.  Ride directly across Schultz Pass Road just below the cattle guard to the little connector that goes across to Weatherford Road.  Ride past the old gate and up the little rocky trail that eventually connects back to Weatherford just below Puppy Chow.  Ride up Puppy Chow to Lower Dogfood.  Ride up Lower, Middle, and Upper Dogfood, and then across Weatherford again where it's blocked by the three short wooden poles, up to where it connects to Newham.  Go right at Newham and ride east on the new "Secret" Trail (aka Spotted Owl) going past Orion Spring, all the way down to the parking lot just west of Schultz Tank.  Ride down  Schultz Creek Trail and back to the start.

 8.2 miles.  1000 feet of elevation.  Easy-peasy.

Here's the botton line: If you've emailed me ahead of time to let me know you're playing, and you end up KOM on 31 July you get my money.

50 bucks cash!

But, if I am the KOM that day, I keep it.

Just about a bike: Specialized Deja Two tandem

When we got married in January of 1997 they closed the bike shop for the afternoon so that everyone could attend our wedding. That was pretty special, and not something that I can recall them doing very often, if ever again, otherwise.  It was great to have everyone there (except for Ken, who's mother was getting married back-East on the same day) to celebrate with us.  Their presence alone surely would have been sufficient to please us.

Nevertheless, we were made doubly-happy at our reception when they presented us with an unexpected "shop gift" which they had all chipped-in together to purchase for us: a brand new Specialized Deja Two tandem mountain bike frame.

In my opinion it remains, without a doubt, the most satisfying and enduring gift we got that day, rivaled, of course, only by our abiding love for one another.

My wife agrees.

And we have spent hundreds of hours together on our tandem (occasionally with our kid attached by Trail-a-Bike, too), all over the southwest, during the past 16+ years, reaffirming both of these facts.

Thanks, again, Absolute Bikes-friends!

Thanks, as well, to our friend Chris, who "sold" us his old crank-reducers (I've yet to pay him for them... for like four years), these days it's pretty much my daughter and I who ride the tandem together.  It's kinda become "our thing" and a wonderful means for spending time together, just the two of us, doing something we both enjoy.

She's become a great little stoker and already knows the local trail system like a native (which she is).  Her endurance continues to impress me as well.  We can turn around a 15-mile loop without complaint or fatigue in a little over an hour together, talking the entire time, motoring up hills, and descending like fiends, whooping at the top of our lungs!

Fact: I've never once returned from any tandem ride, ever, either with my wife or my kid, unsatisfied or wishing that I'd ridden by myself.

I read or heard somewhere, once-upon-a-time, that Specialized's tandems were fabricated by American Bicycle Manufacturing in the early 1990s.  The Deja Two's big, beautiful welds and the unique derailleur hanger certainly support this contention.

Our tandem's basic build has changed very little over the years, since I initially put it together shortly after our wedding.

Ken built the wheelset for me, Mavic hoops on high-flange XT tandem hubs.  Shimano DX top-mount thumbies, XT front and rear derailleurs, plus first-generation XT v-brakes are all adequate equipment most of the time.  A Ritchey tandem crankset, a Specialized stoker-stem, and a Rock Shox Duke (perfectly color-matched out of the box, natch) round out the very basic, no-frills parts mix that's served us well, with very few failures, for more than 16 years now.

For the record: our tandem's staying in the family.  There's no other bike in the garage that we would be less inclined to sell, no matter how much we might need the money.  It's a part of our family, like a good dog or a cherished heirloom.  In fact, our daughter's already asked us to promise to give her our tandem when she has kids of her own so that she can take them riding when they're big enough to stoke for her.

That's pretty high-praise, I think.

And, one thing's for certain: we will.