Saturday, that was one hell of a storm system. I'm usually pretty down for April showers bringing May flowers and all that, but no one ever mentions tornadoes and apocalyptic flooding when they sing that old adage. That was about as much water as I've seen around these parts, probably ever. At least until tomorrow.
Kev29er check in from Brown's Gap fireROAD, 4.17.11. Not very road-like these days.
Before it got really terrible, I lined up a rally with Geoff Keenanstrong, who then left me a voicemail right at rallytime with no less than 6 excuses for why he couldn't make it. To his credit, it was absolutely pouring, but I'm saving that voicemail for distribution at a later date because it's one of the most colorful "I'm bailing on you and I'm sorry" voicemails of all time. Anyway, I've got a riding partner who doesn't mind a widdle rain, anyway.
He does, however, like a good after-romp hug and a snooze on the couch.
Who needs a bike wash when you have a monsoon? And why is my bottom bracket creaking?
Moving on, CHam checked in from BRS with his latest warranty replacement frame. Now taking bets on when this thing implodes, thus proving once again that the hardtail is dead if you're 6'5" and dig racing Bearhole. Closest to the correct date wins. Wins what, I'm not sure, but conveniently, I'm probably out already because my bet was on yesterday and the hardtail seems to have survived.
And on the subject of broken stuff, I did a little descending with Dr. J and the Giro crew down Whetstone Ridge yesterday, on a beautiful afternoon for a ridge ride that proved 3.5 inches of rain the day before is just about the perfect amount to make Whetstone tacky and perfect. Anyway, on chute number 6, the good Dr. J took a set of clippers to the noggin' (caused by a brilliant trailwork/rally plan gone awry) went ass-over-elbows, fire-poled down a tree, and broke himself proper in the process. A lot of guys won't go no-hands inverted with a set of clippers protruding 2 feet out of top of their pack, so props to Dr. J for pioneering the freeride movement to new heights (and lows.) And we did manage to ride back around to the cars with minimal tourniquet use. But on the downside, look for future communications herein as true professionals attempt to locate a baboon tendon donor with which to sew Dr. J's bicep back together.
Last, and probably the most important thing I've ever written about in these sullied, virtual pages, Shan and I found out that we're pregnant and expecting twins in October. Well, technically, Shan is the one that is pregnant (and also technically the one that will have to lug these two chunks around and deliver them in the fall.) But I am equally "expecting." Life is changing, in the best possible way.
anyone caught photoshopping this picture will be mauled by Bender.
I debated for a while whether or not to remark about this greatest aspect of our life to a crew as questionable as the one that trolls these pages. Jury is mostly still out on that. But, wow, just look at them. I suspect I'll both try to protect them from the savagery of the internet as well as remain pretty unable to not brag about them. And I also suspect that the nature of this blog (bikes) and the nature of my life-to-come (twins) will be a bit intertwined, and separating one from the other will not always be possible.
Mostly, I am psyched to watch our twins grow up, up, up.