Spittin' Chicklets...

So, not much to post about lately—my apologies to those who seek comparatively entertaining refuge here for five minutes each workday.

Just did an 89-mile roundtrip overnighter (which I've dubbed the Gettysburg Growler) from Frederick, MD, to Gettysburg, PA¹, and back with a flock of Outlaws, camping overnight and getting guttered Saturday night at the Appalachian Brewing Company. First time hauling gear on the fixie over anything other than relatively level rail-trails. Oh, and first time doing it on the Casseroll instead of the Crosscheck². On the way up, we ran into an angry storm that hurled gumball-sized hunks of hail and had us all huddling around a flask of tequila in a borrowed barn near the road to shake off the shivers. On the return trip, Joe—never happy unless he's suffering—made sure to throw in a 2.25-mile virgin climb up the Catoctin ridge that turned out to be steeper and looser than originally anticipated. A real body-lunging battle from start to finish that made me thankful for the 42x17 gearing I managed to force into an almost perfect chain-line earlier in the week. A quick stop after the climb at locally famous Candyland³ in Thurmont for refreshments and a sixer of Hop-Ocalypse IPA, and it wasn’t long before we were back in Frederick, all smiles and sore asses. A good time with a lot of great people that had me laughing under the influence on Saturday night nearly to the point of apoplexy, mostly at my own nonsensical and highly exaggerated recounting of some episodes from the Lodi race.

The other bit of news is that the fine folks hosting this year’s Single Speed World Championship finally dug down deep in their electronic inbox and found my email from several months back, in which I asked if it would be possible to sub for some friends who, it turns out, won’t be making the ride. Bottom line: Cali, here I come. Nothing left to do but swap out the broken-toothed ring in the pic above, throw on a new Salsa CroMoto fork⁴ I snagged on the cheap, and recable everything, then decide whether I really want to take a 26er to a ride where a 29er might be in order. That, and actually get my lame ass out on some dirt (for only the fourth time since Big Bear) between now and when the big bird takes flight.



1. Some folks rode much farther, leaving from—and returning to—an area just outside Baltimore, MD. Props to 'em.

2. I expect to have the Crosscheck back from Tom soon. I'd asked him to braze some rack spools onto the seat-stays in addition to replacing the dropouts, a task that, along with a new addition to his family (congrats, Tom!), added time to the original repair work.

3. Ah, Candyland, where one can find all manner of candy AND booze, back to back under the same roof. Yeah, they've got the eternal child covered, no doubt.

4. Gotta love this little quote from the SSWC08 blog (italics mine):

"Course scoped out, GPS'd--it is gonna be a tough mother. You rigid fork folks are in for some fun!"

That kind of fun is spelled P-A-I-N...