Your Death By Hills (ride) is coming.

Greetings, polka-dot-jersey jerks. Like a bored XXX housewife, we need to find ways to keep busy at this time of year. And instead of pool boys, cable guys, milk men and mail men, we're going to elect to get this season started right.

By climbing tons of stupid-steep hills.

Here is the info, which is more or less the same as the last 3 years we've met for this ride:

Where: Lone Wolf Coffee at Kehr's Mill and Clayton Road. PLEASE PARK ACROSS CLAYTON IN THE STRIP MALL LOT.

When:  Sunday, Feb 26th - your alternative to Froze Bros. 9AM - which means clicking in at 9AM. Or if you're riding a Rivendell, cinching your toe-straps down at 9AM. If it is shitty weather that day, then plans may change, depending on just how shitty. The last 3 years, we have been lucky to have bon0r-inducing weather, and I'm hoping for moar!

Why: It's free, it's hard, all the hills eliminate most wind (unlike at Froze Toes) and you probably won't have anyone cursing at you to bridge the gap or work harder.

People who should show up:You, if you're not a total choad. And if you're on SCCC or Red Wheel. Jerks.

Pace: I don't care - I plan on going at a talking pace. The last 2 years, I was in one of the last groups to finish. Hammer if you want to - it's all going to break up anyway.

Where To:  My Garmin Map and below is the cue sheet. PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS ROUTE IS NOT MARKED AT ALL. If you don't know these roads, then  you might want to stick with people who know where they are going. Or don't, as it doesn't really matter to me. I am simply providing a route and a starting point and time.

Which Bike Should I Ride: This one



The route, typed out for you to print:

-Start at Lone Wolf Coffee
-Head west on Clayton,
-Left on Thunderhead Canyon Dr.
-Left on Westglen Farms Dr.
-Right on "Village Plaza View Dr," toward the stripmall
-enter bike path opposite the parking lot
-left across black pedestrian bridge, crossing Hwy 100
-left after bridge
-right onto Old Manchester (across from the Jack in the Box)
-left onto Woods Rd. Descend and turn left up Bartizan, come back down, and continue down Woods.
-left onto bike path and ride south along Hwy 109.
-left up Old State for about .1 mile
-left onto Redtail Hawk Dr
-Then turn/veer left onto Johns Cabin Rd, which is a clockwise loop (Mitch's secret training loop) and will bring you back to Old State. (BUT not before making a quick left up and back down Starwood Rd!)
-Cross 109 at Old State, turn right up Alt Rd.
-Left on Forby.
-Right onN. Central Ave
-Cross over Hwy 44, turn right onto West Main St (in between train tracks.)
-left onto Wengler and start Allenton Loop, going CCW.
-Exit Allenton Loop to the left, go underneath Hwy 44, and climb Allenton Rd.
- right onto Scenic Loop Rd, going opposite direction.
-right, continuing on Allenton Rd.
-left onto Melrose
-right onto Hwy 100
-right onto Woodland Meadows Dr.
-right onto Old Manchester
-right onto Glencoe (through Rockwoods.)
-Go straight up Melrose
-Turn right (again) onto Hwy 100, cross over and turn left and continue on Melrose all the way until it descends to Hwy T.
-Left on T
-Left on Bassett
-Left onto Cremin's Green, out-and-back. Continue up Bassett.
-Left onto Old Manchester
-left onto Bouquet.
-Left onto Ossenfort, cross T, and continue on Ossenfort.
-Right turn onto Hardt Road (at the bottom of Ossenfort Hill)
-right back onto Hardt Rd, returning to Ossenfort.
-right back onto Ossenfort
-Continue straight onto Wild Horse Creek
-turn left up Babler Forest as an out-and-back.
-Come back down, and turn right onto Wild Horse Creek, climbing to Rieger.
-Turn left onto Rieger
-Right on Pond.
-left on Smith School Rd.
-Left on BA.
-left into Babler State Park. Once in Babler, turn right onto John Cochran Dr (CCW loop), turn right up Theodore Wirth Drive, and left down Guy Park Dr (past the pool). Turn right back up John Cochran Dr, climb up the first hill, and turn left at the bottom of the other side (also John Cochran Dr (be careful on the gravel!) and duck under gate to exit Babler State Park.
-Immediately turn right up Wild Horse Creek Drive (Doberman.)
-Turn right onto Old Eatherton.
-Left onto Orville.
-Right up Shephard.
-Left onto bike path alongisde 109
-Left onto Clayton back to Lone Wolf Coffee.

*Please take note of where to exit Babler State Park - it is not well marked, and easy to miss. It is at the bottom of the second climb, when you will pass by it at first, and then loop back around to it. It is not very well paved, and you will have to go underneath a metal gate.

 
I swear to you, by the end of this ride, you'll be stronger - strong like He-Man riding Battle Cat through Eternia.




Alright, Simpson's Trivia Time - This is a two-fer.

1) What is the name of Patty and Selma's pet lizard?

2) In this scene, who is saying "I have to go now, my planet needs me."

-Casey F. Ryback

P.S. For best results in DBH, dominate your toilet the morning of. I like to think that if I were in a lesbian relationship with my toilet, I'd be the mega-dominating butch.

Highest JErk On Earth!

This JeRk wE kNoW is Saluting JeRkdom from damn near the top of the world. 

 i needed to borrow some superior attitude to get up here, hope you don't mine!

...btw this is Stella Point, about 100m below the summit.  

That's a proper salute going on inside those mittens. 

- Emily Korsch 2012 Mt. Kilimanjaro

Toscani's Super Secret DBH Recon Century

Greetings, Soldiers of the Jerk Army! It's that time of year, the time betwixt the fat holidays, and the warming-weather. The time of year when some people cry themselves into riding their train0r, whilst others will get buff at the gym, and completely forget about their bike. Others still, will press on, getting ever more hardened, through a process of cold forging. And, as we know from the back of Nico's Nico Toscani action figure blister package, "hardened" can be defined as

1. Strengthening - having been made harder or stronger 2. toughened by experience - sufficiently experienced, to have become unconcerned about something that most would find unpleasant or difficult.

With this ultimate goal in mind, Nico had the idea to achieve heinous (rhymes with anus) centuriousity this past Sunday. The weather called for the day to becoming slowly warmer, however this would be without the help of the sun. Unperturbed, our "murder" was to meet at Casa del Toscani at 0830 hours - a murder consisting of Orin "Arm Baby" Boyd, Samuel "Concave Braking Surfaces" Axel, Harlan "Reflection of Jesus" Banks, Nico "One Chainring" Toscani, and myself, Casey "Why Did I Remove My Fenders" Ryback. Manifest Destiny was the call of the day, as we have been destined to ride west, in order to do recon on the region that we'd be assaulting once again in a month. In doing so, we realized that the tailwind from the southeast would be helping us keep a full head of steam on the way out, but would then leave a steamer the size of a head on top of our attempts to go full steam once we turned back.

We set sail, taking a sneaky route out to Creve Coeur Lake, and realized that this is pretty much what the day would look like the whole time:

With conditions like this, I was having flashbacks to the rainy years of the Rim Wrecker race at Council Bluff, where at the end, no one had any brake pads left at all.

Going through the flats of Creve Coeur, the wind was vicious enough to have my 215 lb ass wishing for the first big hill - Hog Hollow. Of course, that hill's wrist was snapped before we even started the fucking ride. My HR didn't even get over 170. Continuing our sneaky path, we entered onto the old Marquette Ride route, wherebouts we ascended Shepard, and had to make a quick guerilla-style photo attack of the snake mailbox:

As we were clipping back into to start pedaling, the front door cracked open just enough for the ten year old kid who lives there to finally get the chance to curse in public, as he yelled out "Get the fuck away from my mailbox!" immediately followed by the door slamming shut again. As you might expect, we were as intimidated as you could possibly be from a 10 year old who hasn't hit puberty.

Circling around, and giving the middle finger to Bartizan as we passed by, we continued up, down, and around, finally stopping for provisions at the Six Flags Gas Station. Apple turnovers, creme-filled donuts, and McDoubles never tasted so good. Re-boarding our man-train, we were freezing cold, so we took refuge on the slopes of the Allenton Loop. As Mr. Axel can atest, it warmed us up quite quickly. Curving around and slogging up Alt Road, our legs were reminding us how many miles we had traveled already. No matter, as we used our minds to snap the wrists of the wills of our legs, and proceeded to destroy that hill. Not long after, we found ourselves on Woods Road, a glorious stretch of asphalt. We passed by an amazing statue that had me thinking "If I had wings I would fly, let me contemplate..."

Not long up that climb, we got to see just how much stronger of a climb Mr. Banks is when he has a gigantic ice boner. However, photographic evidence of this currently only exists in my brain - and until we can transfer those images to a printer, we may never be able to re-experience it. Miles ticked by, through the stop-sign farm that is known as Hutchinson Road, and from there Clayton was our ticket back. Mr. Axel hit the target with his banana peel:

Around this time, Army Baby started to become severely afflicted with some severe pains in his knee. I was surprised, because I had figured that if he were to develop some aches, cramps or something like that, it would have been urethra cramps, as both he and Snurb were pissing approximately every 7 to 8 minutes. It had me wondering if they had gone into the doctor for the stomach-stapling surgery, but the doctor fucked up and accidentally stapled their bladders instead, leaving them with bladders the size of a hot mountain tip.

Snurb, Axel and Tr0rscr0rnr0rz0rz kept their pace choo-choo-ing home, while LegTitty and I rolled back in a more Snoop-esque way - laid back. Lack back, that is, until, at the intersection of Hanley and Clayton, we looked to our left and were amazed to see see a navy blue Chevy Malibu being driven by an actual, 6 foot tall penis. Literally, an anatomically correct penis, shriveled balls, curly pubes and all. It was disproportionately short for how wide it was, and sitting kind of slumped over, not fully erect like a properly-functioning penis would be. Regardless, it was big enough to drive a car, arms and all. It managed to extend one of it's penis-fingers over at us, telling us that we were number one, as the other penis-hand honked the horn. I tried to accelerate, as I wanted a second look at that man-sized penis that somehow was piloting this car, with it's two shorter, more limp-looking penis friends in the passenger seats. My tired legs deflated my sprinting attempt, so I gave up. Much to my delight, I saw that Malibu less than 1/2 mile down the road, stopped in the middle of the driving lane, blocking traffic (totally something that a penis would do if it were driving a car) with it's windows down, waiting for me. That penis could drive AND talk! It told me, quite emphatically, to Fuck off, because I was on a bike and that I was a pussy. I asked that penis to get out of the car so it could tell me that face to... shaft, but it declined. I guess it wasn't motivated enough, so I encouraged it again to get out of the vehicle, and I was a little louder this time, thinking maybe it had some fumunda cheese in it's penis-ears. But I can only assume that since it was so slumped over in the seat, perhaps it couldn't even stand full upright - otherwise known as impotent. It then turned into a neighborhood - the whole incident just leaving me to believe that penis to be just a poorly functioning DICK.

I was glad to hit the home stretch, passed the State Hospital, which was in an interesting state of fog - it kind of summarizes the day:

Quite exciting, was our Westerly Recon. We learned many things, and are now getting excited for Death By Hills, which we'll say is happening on the same days as Froze Toes. The hills will be relentless, and so I have an image for you to burn into your memory for when your valiantly ascending the hills - Tommy "The French Tickler" Voeckler:

-Casey F. Ryback

Old Line Sunday at Castlerock

Greetings, Team Seagal Minions! This blog and our team are both about education, as stated before. Education, current events, and historical preservation. But more on that later.

You know, anyone who has ridden mountain bikes for a while in St. Louis, such as anyone on our team, may have the tendency to view Castlewood with a certain "meh" attitude. That is, since it is essentially the most accessible trail system to the city (and much of the county) and since it is a well-laid out series of loops, on which it is hard to get lost. They're the local stomping grounds. Yours truly has ridden there since grade school, which means that for people like myself, there are no surprises, and can seem a bit tired. If someone moves a single rock, I'll probably wonder where that rock went.

BUT, that doesn't mean the place isn't plenty of fun, when going with the right mindset. And the right jerk.


For this particular Sunday, Nico and I decided to take advantage of the remaining snow, and crush out some miles before the "thaw" part of the freeze/thaw cycle reared it's sloppy, un-baller head. That meant getting to The Jerk's House early. Which meant getting up even earlier in order visit the "Brown House."


Having successfully received Energor's brown fuji gift to me, I headed out and arrived to find him having already been preparing a tasty meal of his favorite - crowns - and a delicious egg/rye/pepper cheese/hummus sammich:



After sitting in his breakfast nook and putting those foods into my face, I stepped over to put our plates into the sink where I turned around and noticed a beautiful sight: A bin full of amazing empties that have been crushed by the Jerk Himself.

We then wasted no time in transferring ourselves, and our shit out to the place to be seen on a nice day like today - the pavilion lot at the 'Wood. Nico also waste no time blastin' his nips for the whole park to see:

The sun was shining, threatening to cause problems, so we un-blasted our nips and sallied forth. The trail was frozen with a harder surface than Criss Angel's lap while playing Santa at the boys home on Christmas Eve:

Our two-man man train choo-choo'd around the stinging nettle loop (where we noticed the cable-roots having been cut out, making the "narrows" section more easily ridable) and curved our way back to the Blue Ribbon. Jerkscani piloted me up the first counter-clockwise hill, which brought us to a newly-discovered overlook, which is nothing less than a gift that has been bestowed upon us from Energor himself.

Continuing down the trail:



Our euphoria was growing faster than a jenkem high as the trail unfurled beneath our tires. Something dawned on us, that we have been riding past all this glorious yet forgotten trail, and we made a decision - to transform "just another Castlewood ride" in "Old Line Sunday." In the spirit of historical preservation, and in light of all the BULLSHIT switch-back cutting on the Chubb Trail, we decided to do our part to preserve the old, historically significant lines for future generations by riding where the trail use to go (note the old being ridden and the new line off to the side):


Forgotten trail is all over Castlewood - you just have to look for it, 10 feet at a time.

We had to see some of the other sights, like the 1980's mansion of the future:Things that are sure to be in that mansion:
-a red Ferrari Testarossa and/or a Lamborghini Countach
-a mountain of cocaine on a desk
-very tall ferns
-leather couches
-an intercom system
-a large, deep cut-out in the wall where the big-screen projection TV used to go

To which I say:

After 2.5 hours, a visit to the blorffs were not a bad way to finish Old Line Sunday:


The year is starting anew - many things happening and stewing. For example, Death By Hills is not far away, and we expect to see the return of the New East Coast Syndicate crossing over from the eastern to the western shore - he must already be on his way, as I can already smell his newest tubeset.

-Casey Fucking Ryback

P.S. 23!

New Year's Resolution: Moar Middlefork

Greetings, Team Seagal Patriots! As stated before, this blog is primarily focused on education. Just ask our New East Coast Syndicate, who matriculated in our Jenkem Program recently. His studies have been very fruitful, and we consider him to be one of our most promising students.

This past Sunday, many of us received an education in how awesome the Middlefork Trail continues to be, especially both Showtime and BabyTitty who completed a hat-trick of Middleforks, wherein they did visited this most glorious trail 3 times in 3 days. There was to be several soldiers launching a full-fledged attack utilizing an attack party of myself, Nico, BabyTitty, Pry0r, Borskorn, Samuel Axel, It's Not Delivery, and my buddy Marc.

Reports were glowing, and the weather was excellent. My alarm went off around 7am, and as I sat up from bed I could literally feel something fall to the bottom inside my body, which prompted me to skip the rest of my morning routine until I had properly opened the bomb bay doors, and unleashed my devastating payload onto the small town of Toiletania. Fortunately for me though, the Geneva Convention does not apply in my bathroom.

We rolled down there a little past our planned meet-up time, but were on the trail ready to chase down all the other man-trains that were apparently choo-chooing down the trail, as evidenced by the packed DD/32 lot. Pizza time was even later than the rest of us, though we decided to shove off and except him to catch up, which he most certainly did.

Right away, the pace was not a relaxed one with Mr. Boyd and Nico driving the front. They are in good form currently, especially having ridden these parts the previous two days. Marc was hanging with them, though I found myself off the back after the first gravel road, having stopped to remove my outer shell. Out of sight from the rest of the crew, I tried to settle into a sustainable pace and enjoy the trail, which I certainly did. Even stopped to snap a photo of this tree: It looked to me like Criss Angel, while wearing a shirt with a boner on the front, was in heat, and he had been grinding himself all over this tree, since there were no little league teams around out in the woods. So he had to make do.

The trail was really in absolutely phenomenal shape - almost no debris or mud to speak of at all - it was almost as if Bob Jenkins had been meticulously down there preparing that trail for Cedar Cross as well. Rolling farther down the trail, I soon joined forces with Mr. Axel, Pry0r, and Borsken. Resting briefly at Barten Fen, we continued to roll down where we found tax dollars being put to good use with the paving of a 200-yd section of gravel road:


I also spent some time chasing Mr. Axel up some beautiful singletrack hills (you can just barely see his elbows):

We c-c-c-c-crushed out way onwards, drawing ever closer to Strother Creek. It was at that point, that our party split just slightly. Myself, S. Axel and Marc continued on the gravel, past Shasta, up the big hill, and on past the witness tree:


Finishing the last bit of gravel, we turned into the singletrack for the last time to ascend the last ~3 miles:



Rolling up the trail, my feet becoming quite chilly indeed, I was happy to complete another Middlefork loop with my brain fully intact. Got some awesome helmet-hair:

Nico, Boyd and Pizza Time, having taken the double-back route, took longer to finish up. We hung out, but the heat was steadily leaving our bodies, so we decided to head to Dos Primos where they could join us. In order to effectively communicate this, I left a note on Nico's car:Effective communication is the key to any relationship, whether that be with your significant other, or your team mate.

Dos Primos, as usual, was superb, however I was stunned as Nico, Gino-ward and Boyd did not join us. This is especially surprising, as Nico has been known to eat at Dos Primos upwards of 2 times a day for 2-3 days straight. These times, they are a changin'. http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

A smooth trip home was very pleasing, as was the fancy beer that I had while relaxing at home:

I had to drink away my sorrows, because I realized I missed my chance at winning this item:
http://www.ebay.com/itm/Taxidermy-Wild-Grey-Amorous-Squirrels-/280661487228?pt=UK_Collectables_AnimalCollectables_SM&hash=item4158ba6e7c

-Casey F. Ryback

2012 Kona Raijin - Official World Premier!

Greetings, Team Seagal Fans and all other jerks having stumbled into our blog, which is kinda like the "gimp room" of the internet. As we've stated before, we feel that mountain biking sits at the top of our cycling heirarchy. Which is one of many reasons why we are so happy to have Kona as a sponsor - they've always placed badass mountain bikes as their top priority.

Which is why we're so honored that they've agreed to have US (Yes, us! Can you believe it?) be the FIRST to publicly unveil their first titanium 29" frame - the 2012 Kona Raijin! This is the world's first official look at what's coming. These photos are of the much-drooled-over prototype frame that was built up for some (extensive) testing, and while it won't be identical to the production version, you'll be hard-pressed to identify the differences:



Drawing on their extensive knowledge in titanium, (I would kill a lot of people to obtain any of these old Kona ti frames) and their supremely excellent 29'r expertise, (and relying on Lynskey for manufacturing) Kona has concocted a frame that has enough manliness to be included on our List of Manliness.

Team Seagal's (partial) List of Manliness:
-the Kona Raijin
-chopping wood
-having a full beard
-smoking a cigarette while doing hard manual labor (like chopping wood)
-nailin' broads
-exposed chest hair
-using a chainsaw
-grilling/BBQ'ing in the cold weather
-callouses
-hot sauce on everything
-movies like "The Expendables," (and it's coming sequel) "Predator," "Unforgiven," and "Commando," or anything with Charles Bronson
-shaving with your hunting knife
-dominating the mosh pit and snapping your neck while headbanging at a Napalm Death concert
-tattoos on WWII veterans (like this)


Obviously that list is in no particular order.


Another list, detailing some crucial features:

*Press fit BB30 bottom bracket

* 44mm HT designed for a 1.5″ external lower cup for tapered fork, with a zero stack upper cup (Frame is drawn around 100mm fork using external 1.5″ lower cup)

* Sliding dropouts

* Will come with both singlespeed and derailleur hangers

*Realistic tire clearance

* 27.2mm seat post
* 5 frame sizes: 16″, 18″, 19″, 20″, & 22″

...though specific geometry numbers have yet to be set in stone. As you can see, Kona has definitely been making their prototype more of a bro-totype, and have been taking careful notes as they endlessly shred their super-secret test trails. Rest assured the production frame will be capable some serious face-melting and t'aint-coddling.

It kind of goes without saying that this will be a relatively limited production run, due out in mid-late spring; so don't be like Sully and get dropped by your friends - get yours ordered today!

-Casey F. Ryback