WEIRD FEELING

As I mentioned in a previous post, I got clipless pedals and mountain biking shoes for Christmas. I have ridden with them a couple of times now and am still trying to get used to being attached to my bike. This morning I only fell once, which is an improvement over a couple of days ago, when I fell twice. When I fell this morning, I wasn't able to disengage from the pedals, so when I fell and rolled on my back, my legs were up in the air and so was my bike! That was weird to see.

My problem seems to be while climbing steep hills, I lose momentum and don't release from the pedals fast enough when I come to a stop on the hill. As I explained to Mel after my ride this morning, I haven't gotten used to the pedals to where getting in and out is second nature and instinct. When you have to think about it, it's too late.

The new pedals give a whole different perspective to my regular routine ride. Sections of the trail that were pretty easy before, now require concentration and more focus on timing and technique. I was pretty proud of myself though, because I went down a rocky decline that I was avoiding the other day.

I came upon the drop and picked a line to follow. I then lowered my seat to drop my center of gravity and to make it easier for me to ride behind the seat and over the wheel, literally riding above the rear tire.

I backed up a few yards and mounted the bike, clipping into the pedals as I began the descent. Once I reached the rocks, I literally hung on for dear life, trying not to let my butt hit the back tire. Once I reached the bottom of the hill, I was able to move back onto the seat and continue my ride.

Even though the trail may not seem that technical to some, it is very important to me to face my fears head on when possible. Now don't be fooled, I am not a daredevil with a death wish; I know my own limitations. I just get very determined when I know something is within my physical abilities, but a mental block is keeping me from accomplishing it. Small victories.

Anyway, I rode an hour and a half this morning, so I am close to where I was three weeks ago. It is amazing how much you can regress from not riding at least weekly. Mel and Cindy got me some cold weather gear for Christmas (shirts, jacket, etc) so I can ride comfortably in the cold of winter.

Well, tomorrow it's off to the Alamo Bowl; I am looking forward to having a good time and hopefully seeing a good game!

I WILL REPRESENT

Although Texas Tech wound up going to the Gator Bowl this year (better for them), I refuse to wear Aggie Maroon to the Alamo Bowl this Saturday. Since the game is sold out, 65,000+, I should stand out in my bright red sweatshirt in the end zone.

Keep an eye on the game and see if you see me. Bert, Mel, and I will be sitting on the Big 12 side end zone and I will be the lone dumbass wearing red in a sea of Aggie Maroon and Penn State Blue. I will of course be rooting for the Big 12 representative (Aggies), regardless of not being a fan.

If you don't see me during the game, hopefully you won't see me in any news reports of a dumbass getting beat to death by a mob of Aggie fans....

I TOOK THE PLUNGE

After mountain biking off and on the last six years, I decided to take the plunge and install "clipless pedals" on my bike. "Clipless" is a misnomer, because you actually clip your shoes to the pedals and become one with the bike, much like ski bindings. Like ski bindings, you have to practice clipping in, and getting out.


Luckily, Santa knew that I wanted to make the transition, so he brought me a pair of Crank Brothers Candy pedals and a pair of Shimano mountain biking shoes. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, it is a little unnerving to realize that your feet are otherwise attached to your bike's pedals, but once you get used to it, it is fine.



I rode McAllister Park for almost an hour this morning. Being that I haven't ridden for one reason or another in three weeks, I was starting to get winded after an hour. Since the ride had gone well with no spills, I decided to head for a more technical part of the park.


As many times before, I wound up falling twice, but more for indecision on my part than anything else. I should know by now that once I decide to head down a rock trail, there is no turning back. If you second guess yourself at any part of the descent, you will fall. That's what happened today.


I scraped my left shin, but there was no blood drawn, so I'll live. I hope the weather is good enough so I can ride again tomorrow, because everyone tells me that practice makes almost perfect. I'll keep you posted.

YO QUIERO TACO BELL

I live in the Tex-Mex capital of the world. There have to be more taquerias per capita in San Antonio than any other place in the world. As a result, I have become somewhat of a TexMex food snob, looking down my nose at Taco Bell, Pollo Loco, Taco Villa, and the like. Not only am I a TexMex snob, so is every other Hispanic in San Antonio.

The peer pressure to conform is tremendous. Because of it, I hadn’t eaten at Taco Bell in a couple of years….until today. In a moment of weakness and absolute hunger, I stopped in the Taco Bell down the street from work.

As a precaution, I wore my dark sunglasses, hoping I wouldn’t be recognized in my SYSCO CARES button down shirt. I stood before the cashier, anxious with anticipation. I reviewed my options on the menu above her and my palms began to sweat because I couldn’t make up my mind. Is it possible for so many options of culinary delight to be under $4.99?

I saw my old stand-by, the T-1 combo: a luscious Burrito Supreme, a Taco Supreme, and a DIET Pepsi. I placed my order, giddy with anticipation, then made my way over to the drink machine to fill my cup.

“Number 28 please!”

Oh my God, can it be? I haven’t even finished filling my cup with DIET Pepsi, and my order is ready? Who in the hell does it that fast? Certainly not any of the aforementioned taquerias that I frequent.

I sat down ready to plunge into the scrumptious feast oozing with sour cream before me. What should I eat first? It had been so long, I almost forgot that I always eat my taco first, so I will have the taste of the burrito as the last thing on my tongue.

I scarfed down the taco in the blink of an eye. After covering the insides of the burrito with the hottest sauce they had available, I took my first bite. I forgot how heavenly it tasted. How can one describe the leathery, chewy texture of the thin flour tortilla?

Forget the handmade tortillas from the taquerias that melt in your mouth. Taco Bell tortillas remind me of my younger years – eating anything at 2:30 in the morning, while nursing a decent buzz.

Finished with the repast, I sat on the plastic bench, stuffed and happy. As the meat sauce with too much black pepper dribbled down my chin, I thought just like seeing a movie you’ve seen a hundred times, “this should last me another couple of years”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!!

I want to give a Happy Birthday shout out to the love of my life - my wife Melissa! She turned 40 something today and I wish her many, many more! Love you Baby!

ENDO!!!

Endo - short for "end over", used in biking when one goes over the handlebars. often results in broken parts, bloody face, general humiliation and chingus. (Chingus - Spanglish slang; a pronoun used to define something that it isn't worth describing or left unnamed due to laziness).

Endo - that dreaded word in the biker vocabulary; it usually means something bad. In my years of riding I had never experienced one...until yesterday. Thankfully nothing was broken, just bumps, bruises, raspberries on my legs and elbows, and damaged pride. That's about it.

Another bad word in the biker vocabulary is "tentative", as being tentative can cause you to endo. I was riding a trail along a dry creek bed that I had ridden a few times before. As I descended down the side of the creek, I was mashing on my back brake to slow my descent. My back wheel started to slide on the rocks, so I started feathering my front brake. As a result, I slowed too much and hit a large tree root in the trail that refused to budge, so my bike did.

Physics will tell you that when one object (bike) hits an immovable object (root), something has to give (me). I flew over the handlebars and landed with my arms outstretched. My head hit a rock, but fortunately I was wearing a helmet with a visor, which took the force of the hit and popped off.

As I mentioned before, I skinned my shin, bruised my left quadriceps, and banged up both my elbows, but I survived. After brushing myself off, I got back on the bike and rode another half hour, until my front tire went flat.

This morning, although still sore, I decided to go for a Turkey Day ride. The weather had turned brisk overnight and was about 45 degrees when I left. I was still able to break a sweat after an hour and a half ride. Michael Jr. called this morning and said it was snowing and sleeting in Odessa; I'm glad our weather wasn't that bad.

I hope everyone enjoys the day today and gives thanks for all of our blessings!

SNAKE BIT

After several months of riding various types of terrain without so much as a slow leak, it seems like I have been snake bit lately, as my rides have not been complete without a flat tire. Today was no exception.

Bert's bike has been in the shop the last couple of days for repairs, so I went to McAllister Park alone this morning. From the start, the ride didn't feel right for some reason. About an hour into the ride, my front tire started getting real unstable and I wiped out a couple of times on fairly easy turns.

I stopped to check, and sure enough, my tire was losing air pressure fast. I wasn't far from my truck, so I decided to head back so I could change the tire there. A few minutes later, I had changed the tire and was ready to get back on the trails, but the tire still felt unstable.

My best guess is the last time I was at Government Canyon and had to hike the 2 1/2 miles because of a flat, I think the sidewalls of my tire were so abused that it caused them to weaken to the point of being unstable now. So now it's down to Performance Bikes so I can buy a new front tire.

My day wasn't a total loss, as I was able to get an hour's workout, and a couple of pics of the airport from the top of a hill on the south end of McAllister Park. Later, Bert and I went to the Auto Show while Mel went clothes shopping. All in all, it was a pretty good weekend!

FACING MY FEARS HEAD ON

Those who know me know I don't like heights, but I like to ride high roller coasters. Those who know me know I'm claustrophobic, but I'll ride in elevators.

Those who read this blog know that I took a pretty bad spill in June at McAllister Park riding a particular trail, but not knowing that someone had built an earthen ramp on the trail. I went airborne and wound up with a slight shoulder separation that required weeks of physical therapy.

Today, I faced my fear and rode that trail again; I WASN'T going to let it beat me. Sometimes I can be hardheaded that way; call me stupid, call me what you want, but I AM NOT A LOSER!

Anyway, Albert and I decided to ride at McAllister again this morning. We arrived at 7:30 AM, hoping to avoid the crowds. We rode for three hours today, so I got a GOOD workout. Before we left, I decided I wanted to head back to Mud Creek, the site of my demise in June.

We stopped at the top of the drop off to see if there was anyone on the trail. I tried to get my foot out of the stirrup and it wouldn't budge....TIMBER! I fell over. Any sane person would have taken that as a sign to give up and go home, but NOT ME!

I picked myself up, brushed the rocks off my knee, and got back on my bike. I inched towards the edge of the dropoff, picked my line, and went for it! A few seconds later, I was at the bottom of Mud Creek, having successfully confronted my demon. Now mind you, I wasn't stupid enough to try the jump...I know my limitations. But I DID ride the trail successfully, and that was my goal. (pic below is Bert, not me)

Not only that, but I had concluded a three hour ride, which is a great workout for someone closer to 50 than 40! I was happy. Now, a day of football later, I feel satisfied and ready for the COWBOYS game! How 'bout them Cowboys!

RETURN TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

I decided to return to McAllister Park for my weekly ride this morning, since my Government Canyon flat fiasco was stilll very fresh on my mind. It was a beautiful morning, in the high forties and clear skies.

I actually found a couple of trails I had never ridden prior to today. That park never ceases to amaze me. It is not a technical ride at all, but the myriad of trails that spider web through the park always make my rides interesting. Couple that with not many people riding due to the cold, and I was happy.

One particular trail led me to the bottom of Mud Creek, the scene of my attempt at flying last June. Here are a couple of pictures I took to try and give an idea of how high it is. There were a couple of riders there and I included them in the pics.

I then rode another trail that took me to the top of the Mud Creek Trail and I took a couple more pics from that perspective. Again, it was a pretty uneventful 2 hour ride, culminated by another flat front tire, but I was within a quarter mile of my truck, so the hike back wasn't bad.

WHATCHA LOOKIN AT??

One of my favorite pictures of Matt has to be one I took when I lived in Dallas. Every summer, Michael and Matt would spend a few weeks with me during summer break. One of their favorite things to do was to go to a nearby batting cage.

Matt has always been very serious about baseball, as evidenced by this picture of him getting ready to take some batting practice. I think he was 5 or six at the time. Now he's 19 going on 20...

AWAY FROM HOME

Now that Michael is living in Irving, it is his first extended period of time being away from family. I remember when I first moved to Dallas after the divorce; it was a very lonely and humbling experience. I wouldn't trade it for the world because that is where I met my wonderful wife, but it DID make me stronger.

My visits back to Odessa were always bittersweet. Odessa will always have good memories for me as I spent most of my life there, but it also has many tough memories I don't necessarily like to dwell upon.

On one hand, I couldn't wait to get back because it meant I would get to see the boys! On the other hand, my limited visiting time meant someone would get left out and get their feelings hurt because I didn't spend any, or enough time with them.

Most friends and family don't understand the stress they put upon you because of their expectations. Many times, I would want to just sneak in, see the boys, and sneak out so I wouldn't hurt anyone by not seeing them during a trip to Odessa.

The one exception has always been my Mom. She always understood that the boys were my priority and I wanted to spend as much time as I could with them. Knowing this, she and David would always offer the "quartito" in the back for me to crash. Mom knew that if I stayed there, she would get to spend some time with both the boys and me.

Mom never pressured me to spend a certain amount of time with her. "Mijo", she would always say, "I'm just happy to see you for any little bitty bit that I can." When I would wake up, she would always have coffee ready even though she doesn't drink it regularly. She and I would sit and have coffee before I would head out for that day's adventure. Before I would leave, she would hug me, kiss my cheek, and say, "I'll be here when you get back."

I know that as a father, I have my faults. But if I can be half the parent my mom has been to me, I will be happy. Mom has never been one for guilt trips. I have never blamed her for my poor decisions and she has always accepted responsibility for hers. That seems to work for us.

I don't know how much longer I will have my mom on this world, so I try to make the best of the time left. I try to call her at least a couple of times a week to check up on her, or just to let her vent about work. As she gets older, she reminds me of my Granny quite a bit.

I am very proud of Michael for realizing that there is more to life than the tumbleweeds of West Texas, and wanting to better himself and realize his dreams. I like to think that leaving made me a better and stronger person; I know it will do the same for him.

GOVERNMENT CANYON - ROUND 2

Although I swore I wouldn’t return to Government Canyon to ride until I had lost some weight and built up my endurance, I found myself a little tired of the monotony and crowds at McAllister Park, so I decided to explore the less technical part of Government Canyon called the “Front Country” this morning.

I entered the visitor’s center to the same smiling elderly lady as before.

ME: “Good morning!”

Lady: “Hi! How yew?”

“Fine. One please.”

“Weren’t yew here a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Where’s yer boyfriend?”

“Excuse me?”

“That slender, good lookin feller that looked like a terrorist.”

“1. He’s not a terrorist. 2. He’s my cousin.”

“Sure, and I’m Britney Spears. I saw how he was holding yew tight after your last ride…”

“HE WAS CARRYING ME TO MY TRUCK! I WAS HAVING A HEART ATTACK!”

“Sure. Serves your fat ass right for trying to ride the Back Country Trails. Which trails are yew ridin today?”

“Front Country”

“I newd yew was a funny britches! Yew gonna ride them sissy trails?”

“Ma’am, I’ve about had enough! I can’t believe the Great State of Texas would allow their employees to treat patrons like you’ve treated me this morning!”

“They don’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m a volunteer. Here’s yer change. God bless yew sugar britches!”

“Uh, thanks.”

(Not actual verbatim conversation, but it’s my story)

So began my second Sojourn of Hell….

The day was beautiful, with a slight crispness in the air. There weren’t many people on the trails at 9 AM this morning, which suited me just fine. Although not technical at all, the trails provided a nice option to Mac’s familiar single track.

I was getting a good workout despite the lack of technicality, but two hours into my ride, I noticed my front wheel was not riding as smoothly as it should. I stopped in the middle of the trail and dismounted, only to find that the tire was flat!

“No problem”, I thought. “I’ll just change the flat and put my spare tube on. No biggy.”

I took off my backpack and set it on the ground. I began to rummage through the compartments and found my C02 cartridge, which I screwed onto the tire valve. I squeezed the trigger and didn’t hear the familiar sssst of the C02 filling the tire.

I removed and shook it, only to realize there was no more gas in the cartridge. I remembered I had bought an extra canister at the bike shop, so I started digging in my backpack for it.

“DAMMIT!” I couldn’t find it.

I was halfway through a 5 mile trail and was 2.5 miles from my truck, so I crammed everything into my backpack and started walking my bike down the trail. A mile or so later, I came upon a man with his son, who appeared to be 5 or 6 years old.

I struck up a conversation with the man and he asked me about the trails, as it was his first visit to the park. I felt slight tug on my shirt and the little boy was next to me looking at my bike.

“Mister, did you know your tire’s flat?”

The reaction on my face must have shown my frustration, as the man said, “Uh son, that’s why he’s walking. We’d better go now.”

Fifty minutes after beginning my hike, I was back at my truck. The thought of me forgetting to put a spare C02 cartridge in my pack bugged me throughout the entire hike back, because it is so out of character for me not to be prepared.

Once I opened the back of the Xterra, I completely dumped out the contents of my backpack. Sure enough, you guessed it, lodged underneath the hydration pak, were my two spare C02 canisters….

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GOOD OLD DAYS?

I remember when I was little, I spent a lot of time playing with my Hot Wheels. Mom would take me to the store and let me pick out a sharp looking Hot Wheels, then I was set! I strung that ugly orange track with the purple connectors almost the length of our trailer house, and I was in heaven!

As I grew into my pre-teen years, I needed something more to unleash my creative side, so I began building model cars as a hobby. After a while, I had amassed several boxes of spare parts, tires, decals, etc. I would heat up an old butter knife on the stove so I could chop the roofs off some cars, cut down the posts, and re-glue the roof to the car, making a chop top lowered effect.

I built low-riders and hot rods, did custom paint jobs with fish scales, fades, and even flames! I remember having a large scale Ford Econoline Van model, whose interior floor I covered with cotton balls to resemble angel hair carpeting. I took wood-grained shelf paper and lined the interior walls to imitate wood paneling. I even built a bed in the back and made felt curtains for the back windows.

For the piece de resistance, I took an old bicycle pedal and removed the yellow reflector. I inserted tiny wheat bulbs behind the face of the reflector, then hooked it up to a battery to simulate the old "diamond" lights that some stereo systems had. Remember the ones that would "dance" to the beat?

Those were my Good Old Days. Hot Wheels were a quarter and model car kits were 75 cents. And no, I didn't walk 12 miles to school in the snow either! It seems to take so much to make kids happy and keep them entertained these days. What with video games, lackluster cartoons, it is amazing some of them actually have active imaginations (until the Ritalin kicks in).

Where am I going with this? Nowhere! That's the beauty of having a blog. You get crap off your chest knowing no one is going to read it anyway...

Good night John Boy....

THE FRIENDLY CONFINES

After my butt whippin at Government Canyon last week, I was itchin to ride this weekend. I had an appointment Saturday morning, so I wasn't able to ride then. Bert flew in from a weeklong contract in Portland on Saturday evening, so we went for a ride this morning.

I had a new appreciation for McAllister park; nice, flat, McAllister park! Actually, our two hour ride was a good workout for me, as I was drenched with sweat afterwards. Bert barely broke a sweat, so the ride was just a warmup for him. He planned to ride after the Cowboy game with his cousin and a friend in Austin.

There were the usual suspects on the trails today, but we navigated the park without incident for the most part. There were a couple of downhills where my bike nearly went one way and me the other, but I was able to stay the course.

We went down the same trail that caused a minor concussion for my son Matt about 6 years ago. I was riding lead and had built up a nice bit of speed, but the particular line I decided to take was leading me directly into a tree. I tried to feather my brakes to slow down, but I wasn't slowing enough. At the last minute, I swerved to avoid the tree, and my hydration pak banged against the tree trunk; better it than me!

I had hoped to get to the gym this week during my lunch hours, but we have corporate auditors in the office, so I'll have to stick around to answer questions. Bert will be in California the latter part of the week, so I'll probably go riding alone on Saturday. Then, a quick shower, lunch, and settle in to see Tech vs. Missouri Saturday afternoon.

GOT DIRT?

Here is a true story I sent out earlier this year....(not me in the picture)

After a five year hiatus, I have recently rediscovered my love affair with mountain biking. It is hard to describe the euphoria felt from eating twenty different types of bugs, seeing a deer crap in the woods, and pulling spider webs out of your hair after a typical ride, so I won’t even try.

Today was no exception. Having ridden for almost two hours at nearby McAllister Park, I decided to take some trails to back track to where I parked my truck. I came upon Mud Creek, aptly named because it usually has mud, not water, in it. I approached the cliff of the creek to see if the terrain had changed much since I last rode it years ago. It is a steep drop down the bank, lined with rocks and roots, both of which I try to avoid when possible.

I spied a smooth section of dirt and decided to take that line, as it seemed to be the cleanest of the bunch. As I rolled over the edge, I prayed to God that I wouldn’t be killed or at the very least, my face wouldn’t be harmed, thus ruining my rugged good looks.

In the blink of an eye, I was at the bottom of the descent, feeling pretty good about my riding skills considering my 46 yrs of age. In a split second, I realized that the smooth line I decided to take was really a makeshift earthen ramp; probably built by some BMX Wannabe Kids (damn those BMX Wannabe Kids!).

Not having time to yell Bonsai!, Geronimo!, Bitchin! or some other cool saying that kids yell these days, I decided to just hang on as tightly as possible and hope for the best. After catching BIG AIR (probably only three feet or so, but it’s my story) I landed, and for a nano-second, I thought I actually pulled off a BIG AIR BMX jump worthy of a Jack Ass episode, or at least America’s Funniest Home Videos.

That was not the case however, as I soon found myself lying in mud. Being the conscientious person that I am, I immediately jumped to my feet to see if anyone had seen me bust my butt.
Satisfied that there were no witnesses, I felt my face for blood (remember the aforementioned good looks?), and found none. I straightened out my mud-caked handlebars and determined that my wobbly rear wheel could still get me out of the creek bed. After about 10 minutes, I was back at my truck and soon on my way home.

Aside from a scrape on my arm, a sore right shoulder and elbow, and having my butt shoved up my throat, I think I will live. Where are those Damn BMX Wannabe Kids with video cameras when you need one? I bet I really looked AWESOME!

GOVERNMENT CANYON 1 BIG DOG 0

DAY 2

I didn't think I'd be able to get out of bed this morning after my experience yesterday. Surprisingly, I don't feel that bad. My butt is sore, but that should be expected after a 3 hour ride. (Actually, more like a two and a half hr ride, since I had to walk my bike up much of the first hill.)

My right elbow is tender from a fall when I couldn't get my foot out of the stirrup fast enough, and my hands are sore from holding on for dear life on the downhill sections. But, considering what I looked like after we finished the ride (see pics), I feel great.

I need to get back into the gym, lose some weight, and build up my endurance before I try tackling those hills again. Stay tuned, I'M ON A MISSION!

GOVERNMENT CANYON 1 BIG DOG 0

More pics

GOVERNMENT CANYON 1 BIG DOG 0

Talk about an ass whuppin! I should have known something was amiss when Bert and I went to the visitor's center at Government Canyon State Natural Area to pay our fees for use of the park.

The two ladies at the check out counter smiled and said "$6.00 please". As I handed them my money, one of them said I would have to fill out a Day Use Trail Permit. She handed me a pen as well as the form and I noticed it was in triplicate.

Being naturally inquisitive, I asked " Why is this form in triplicate?"

"Well Honey" she said, "the green copy you leave on your dash board, the white copy you leave in the box at the trail head."

"OK" I said, "what about the pink copy?"

"Honey, the pink copy you put in your pocket."

"Why?"

"So we know who you are in case we find you on the trail."

"But wouldn't I know who I am?"

"Sure, but not if you're unconscious."

"Uh, thanks."

So began my Journey of Hell....

Mirrors may lie, but mountain bike trails that continue to ascend into the sky do not. I AM SEVERELY OUT OF SHAPE! There, I said it. No longer can I kid myself that 230 lbs is just 10 lbs I have to lose.

After a near out of body experience half way up the FIRST hill, I was about to have a heart attack. Bert, who is 35 and in good shape, would look over his shoulder, and if I wasn't in sight, he would stop and wait; bless his heart.

I thought I was on top of my game. Never having visited said Government Canyon, I did my research online. I found maps of the park; I even scoped it out on Google Earth. Much to my demise, neither accurately reflect the topography of the region we were about to traverse.

The trail started off fairly easily. A few loose rocks here and there, but after a mile or so, it started going uphill and uphill, and uphill....My neck was starting to hurt because I kept looking up so much.

At one point, I was huffing and puffing so much, that when I hit a patch of rocks that were bigger than my head, I decided to dismount and push the bike up the trail. The pictures I will attach will not do this hill justice. Now keep in mind, I said hill, not MOUNTAIN.

Can you imagine the crazies in the You Tube videos who ride MOUNTAIN trails? Wait, most of them are barely old enough to shave, so I shouldn't feel too bad.

Anyway, long story short, I didn't die. I had to walk a third of the trail going up the hill, but I DID IT. Bert was very supportive, saying I did a good job and he needed 20 breathers along the trail any way. I knew he was lying, but I didn't feel like making his ass walk home, so I went with the flow.

I may add more about the ride at a later date, but my brain is cramping now. Seriously, I don't remember when I was more tired than today. If it is any consolation fellow 40 somethings, I DID try to represent. I DID survive a 3 hour trail ride through some of the most challenging terrain I have ever ridden. McAllister park this AIN'T!!!

BLESSING OR CURSE?

As I mentioned in a previous post, the mornings are cooling off, making for excellent riding weather. Although I believe this is a good thing, so do several hundred of my closest friends. Ok, that may be embellishing a bit, but the last couple of weekends, it seems like I have literally been tripping over people on the bike trails.

Keep in mind these trails are not paved; I avoid those, as they are full of walkers and they think they are a superior species, as they do not have their asses planted on a bicycle seat. Therefore, they seem to think they exercise harder than bikers, thus deserve use of the paved trails. Fine, I'll give them that, as I enjoy riding off-road more anyway.

I digress. The off-road trails are now so full that you chance a head on collision even on single track. Since many of these trails have blind corners, that can be dangerous, and I simply refuse to buy one of the "sissy bells" they have at the bike shops now. I'd rather take my chances with another biker head on. I weigh 230lbs; I like my odds.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad so many people have taken an interest in mountain biking recently; I'm one of them. The thing that bothers me is that I have been riding all summer long, in the heat, sweating my butt off, with nary another soul in sight. Now, at the first hint of cooler weather, EVERYONE wants to ride.

Bert and I have decided to venture out and find new trails to ride. We are thinking about heading out to Government Canyon State Natural Area just outside of town. Neither of us has ridden it, and there are over 8600 acres to explore. http://www.tpwd.state.tx.us/spdest/findadest/parks/government_canyon/

We hope to ride on Saturday and I will try to remember to take my camera so I can share the scenery with anyone who cares to check out the blog.

PSSSSST!

Psssst - is usually a sound that is met with anticipation and possible intrigue. It could mean someone is about to entrust you with a secret, or it could mean you are about to get a great deal on a "ROLIDEX" watch.

But to a bike rider, psssst is the second worst thing you could hear during a ride other than snap, crackle, or pop (bones, ligaments, or tendons). Psssst means you have a flat, which can put a damper on your ride depending on how prepared you are.

It is always a good idea to have an extra tube, tire tools, patch kit, and a pump or C02 inflater handy. During this morning's ride, I heard the tell-tale pssst, and sure enough, my front tire was going flat before my eyes.

After saying many words I can't post, I dug into my backpack and found the necessary tools to change the tube. Although I didn't set any records like a NASCAR pit crew, I was able to change the tube in 10 minutes or so. Not bad, considering I haven't had to practice much.

As mentioned in a previous post, my handy MULE proved to be a wise investment. It is the biker's equivalent to Tia Chencha's ginormous purse which contained many items including Vicks, lip-i-stik, Rolaids, asprin, a 48 pack of Maxi-Pads, and God only knows what else. Everyone makes fun of Tia Chencha AND the prepared biker until THEY need something from the bag!

Remember - better safe than sorry!