You stink

One really nice thing about the hoard of well-dressed-in-denim touristy-folk ranging hither-and-yon in any given direction, always within sight of the parked Pink Jeeps atop Chicken Point, is that they all smell wonderfully. Like soap and shampoo, clean linen and floral perfume.  When you're riding uphill on a singlespeed in Sedona you notice these things.  Because you're going slow.  And because you stink.

The blister on my palm hurts.

Singlespeed in Sedona is hard. Rigid singlespeed is harder. Drop-bar rigid singlespeed is, no question, the hardest.  Wrap those bars in cotton-tape alone, and, you're not being tough, or faithful to some long forgotten classic vintage.  No.  You're just being stupid.  You deserve your blisters. And your sore legs. And the broken spoke in your rear wheel.

Once, years ago, my wealthy aunt and uncle visited northern Arizona and asked us to drive down and join them in Sedona for the day, which we did.  After brunch, they surprised us with the news that they had booked us an exclusively chauffeured Pink Jeep Tour of our very own (they bought-up all the other seats). I've biked around the Chicken Point area a thousand times, for going on some 25 years now.  But that trip was my first, last, and only Pink Jeep tour through the area to-date.  And, I must admit, it was a lot of fun.  Not just for the good company: my wife and our well-beloved aunt and uncle.  But also for the comedic-cowboy commentary provided by our admittedly very skillful driver.  We took the company's signature tour out to Chicken Point and got to do the whole-shabang: the slow-screechy skid down the steep slickrock near Mushroom Rock, and the gnarly Devil's Staircase descent, too.  It was a hoot, and well beyond my own meager skills as a four-wheel-drive driver.

I mended my broken wheel down at the shop this afternoon; needed an FR-6 to remove the freewheel (not sure why I've never bought one of my own).  It's been quite a while since I've been able to spend any kind of time down there.  Nevertheless, I am pleased that there are a few of my former coworkers hanging around the place who still remember my name, and that they're willing to let me use a tool or give me a hand now and then when I need it.  However, just in case the place was filled with new crew members (this has happened the last few times I popped in), I arrived bearing the proper oblation.  It never hurts to hand-off a six-pack of Fat Tire to the mechanics before you ask to borrow a tool.

Beer can accomplish great things, especially in a bike shop.

Snowcave

It was 19˚F when we came inside

after digging

a snowcave

in our backyard this afternoon.

Archival Footage: On Being Prepared

The following post was originally published in the summer of 2005 as a part of volume 1, issue no. 2 [.pdf] of Bi-opic, a publication of FlagstaffBiking.org.

---

Archival Footage: Flow

The following post was originally published at FlagstaffBiking.org on June 29, 2004.

---

Ken often speaks in mumbled whispers. And I think he knows it.

Decades of cheap headphones, hanging out too close to over-loud concert speaker towers, as well as being a teen-aged drummer with dreams far bigger than my talent, have irreparably cost me some 10 percent of my hearing, so says the doc.

Chatting in the bike shop, with all the noise of cash registers, bad ‘80s music, and customers all around; or when he’s riding up-ahead of me; or when he’s on the telephone (even my answering machine struggles often with his tone and occasionally hangs up on him), I regularly cannot make sense of what Ken is saying. 

It's possible that it’s really not his fault; I’m about 50-percent convinced that it's the background noise that interferes with the way his voice flows to my damaged ears.

 On the other hand, he might just be messing with me.

Chima, not China

The guy behind the counter was so pleased.  "You know, the next release will be the first in a long time that isn't based on a film franchise," he informed us.  "It will be based in China."

That's what I thought he said.

But, having now done a little research in preparation for this post this evening, I've come to the conclusion that he probably actually said, "on Chima" rather than "in China."  Not that it really matters.

I have no idea what a Chima might be.

What does matter is that I learned this interesting fact because my daughter and I were at our local strip-mall Game Stop video game store, scouting out used video games earlier today.  Lego video games, in particular.  Just to see what our options looked like.

It's no secret.  I play video games.  But, until this week, I've never been a Lego video game player.  I tend to prefer shooters rather than action-adventure RPGs, as a rule.  But, thanks to my mother-in-law, grandma-Susan, we (my daughter and I) have become quite the Lego-videogame-playing duo of late. 'Cause, ya see, grandma-Susan bought her Lego Star Wars, The Complete Saga for Christmas.  And, as it turns out, there's almost nothing in the world that's more fun to do than to spend a few solid hours on a cold, windy winter's afternoon, playing two-player-cooperative Lego Star Wars as a dueling daddy-daughter duo.  We both agree.

Doncha know.

We played both today and yesterday after I got home from work, and, as of this writing, I am pleased to report: we're completely done with Episode 1, and well in to Episode 2.

As happens, we scored a near-mint Lego Harry Potter Years 1-4 (for a mere $16.95) on our visit to ye olde neighborhood Game Stop this morning.  And I'm pretty sure, probably sometime in the year 2015, when we're all done playing through each of the 160 levels of the Complete Saga of Lego Star Wars, we'll bust it out and play through Harry Potter as a daddy-daughter duo, too.

Lego two-player-cooperative video gaming.  Good stuff.  Who knew?

Archival footage: The cleft of the rock

The following post was originally published at FlagstaffBiking.org on August 14, 2004.

---

You now know that it takes at least 30 minutes for rain to run down Mount Elden... and that in that time it will gather and regather until it rushes out the bottom in a series of tall cascades... and that it comes on with a roar like a train before it fills the dry wash nearby with a foot of new water.

You note that no matter what its form, you are nearly always impressed by the action and presence of water.  And you're sure, because there is a little spring nearby, that you're not the first to see these magnificent effemeral falls... the Eldens probably saw them every summer... others too most likely.

Wild Turkey

Here's how close I am to being done with everything:

• Last Saturday I met with my school-administrator cohort group (a more-excellent team you will not find, by the way) and together we presented our School Improvement Plan to the rest of the folks in our The Principalship class at NAU, thus completing my last class in this too-long, 18-month process working toward a real administrative certificate.
• This Monday scores are supposed to be released for the 8-hour-long Arizona school-administrator professional knowledge test that I took back in November. Assuming I passed it, this test will allow me to apply to the state for a real administrative certificate.
• Also on Monday, I meet with my university supervisor to review the components and outcomes of my administrative internship, which I've also been doing this semester, mostly all by myself, with my superintendent technically serving as my cooperating-administrator-of-record.  Assuming my supervisor elects to promote me, NAU will give me an Institutional Recommendation, which is the second piece I require in order to apply for a real administrative certificate with the state.

Today, to celebrate the almost-doneness of all this, I went for a ride.  My first real ride in a fortnight.  I had some surgery about two weeks ago, on my forehead, so I've not been allowed to wear my helmet while it healed.  

It's healing well.  

So today, to revel in both my almost-healedness and -doneness, I rode.  Only 13 miles.  And, man, was I slow.  But it was great to be out, freed from the things that have so recently fully-ensnared my disposable time.

Turkey (plural)

I saw a rafter of wild turkeys on Elden Look-out Road today.  Had to be at least 15 of them, maybe more.  Easily the largest gathering of such birds I've ever seen during my 20+ years of traveling about in these woods.  I stopped to take a picture of them, but they really were much too far away...

Chief among my goals for today's ride, second perhaps to just getting-out to ride, period, was snow.  It's been a dry month or so in these parts, which is a significant amount of time between snowfalls this time of the year, enough to have to worriers worrying and the scoffers scoffing.  But I figured there might still be a little snow left in the shady spots on Red Onion and Upper Brookbank, and certainly some half-way down Weenie's Walk, where there's always a little left-over snow, even after all the other snow in the area has gone away.

And there was!  Not a lot.  And scary-icy at speed.  But I'll take it, even if that's all there is to take.  Because it's the 8th of December. And a body ought to be able to enjoy some snow on the 8th of December, one way or another.

Better than a trip to the ice rink to play in the Zamboni-pile. And waaaay better than homework.