2014 Joe Dirt Ride

Greetings, Team Seagal loyalistas! When January weather gives you a window through which you are able to escape into the southern Missouri woods, you better damn well take it. And this Sunday was rife with sunshine and mild temperatures. So you know us, a superior strike force was readied via a directive straight from Team HQ - all the way from the top.

So our official Team Seagal Strike Force involved Roland "My Nerves Finally Healed After Last Year's Joe Dirt Ride" Sallinger, Orin "Sir Chop-lesteen" Boyd, Cock "My Butthole Was Moar Tender at the End of the Ride" Punchor, Gino "I'm Not Above Using Free Tires on My Handmade Bicycle" Felino, and out very own "If Triathlons Involved Camping, Floating and Biking I would King Shit of Tri-Mountain" Lawman. Oh, and I, Casey "What Can My Brown Do For You" Ryback, was also attending, putting the "I eat" into "dead weight." But we weren't alone in our quest to slay the mighty hills of the Greater St. James area. We had many an ally by our sides. Matt of the North, Pat of the East, not to mention the German Techno Wizard himself, Dan Fuhrmann, who expertly laid out an excellent route and marked it quite well.

The previous night, I may or may not have drank a few too many Coffee Stouts and directly-imported Raniers with like-minded jerks:

...and these substances may or may not have lead me to dream of recumbents. Seriously - ask Mrs. Crotch. It was also during that time that I found out that shower beers may be a regional thing to Missouri. And I would like to confirm or dis-confirm this.

Back to the ride at hand, we rolled out and had an excellent ride along farmlands up a lovely gravel road for a few miles before the first hill showed it's face. Our strike force shoved its way up the hill, and continued its path of destruction. I was becoming acutely aware of a terrible Meatloaf song that was stuck in my head, and had been since the previous day, so I had to work to replace it with something else - something better. My brain, not completely worthless (in life) just yet, was able to conjure up an old favorite, courtesy of Ronnie James Dio (RIP):


The roads were beautifully packed, and my extra-heavy tires kept the party train rolling with nary an issue:

The climbs were tough, but bombing the descents was totally worth it, as we got to C-C-C-C-C-RUSH those downhills. Each hill I climbed, I was happier and happier that I was able to take a truly great morning constitutional, which would be one more "load" off my mind.

Our thoughts strayed to dearest Peat, and the untimely snapping of his hip's wrist. Peat, may you rest and heal well. But then my spirits were lifted when I had the most perfect spraying of water onto a potential chasing-dog's face.

Riding along side so many great friends, we couldn't help but tally the various types of beer cans I viewed on the ground: Natural Light, Milwaukee's Best Light, Coors Light, Bud Light - thus indicating no real allegiance to one brand of beer. This is different from my findings last year at the Hairy 100 in Rocheport - only Bud products, there.

Further into the loop, there were signs directing travelers to the Whispering Winds bible camp. Part of me wondered if Dan was directing the course there as a practical joke, in hopes that all of the Seagal guys would be snagged and given sexual re-assignment therapy. It was not to be though - we managed to out-fox him and finish his "ride."

Going out on the second loop, I was optimistic. Food in stomach, sun on my face, I was feeling better than Criss Angel after a week as a bathroom attendant at the Kinder Care. My legs were fading, but, like the boys that Criss Angel has in his van right now, they were still kicking. Made it all the way to the top of the final climb, and the last road down to the highway was real smoove.

Arriving back at the cars with my boy Roland Sallinger, I reflected on how happy I was to not be doing a triathlon. So I came up with this tri-ku:

My prone position
Corroded bolts all over
Bike is now one piece

I also came back to my phone to find that a friend had sent me a link to a case report in a top medical journal - a report that refutes something I have been saying for YEARS. The saying, something I would say to prospective Mrs. Crotch's, was "Don't worry baby, your face can't get pregnant..."  Well, as it turns out, I was wrong - it apparently can. See here for details.

Hanging out in the parking lot, we soon moved to a local eatery, where we were fortunate to see Nick and a few others tackle "El Diablo." I haven't seen a grown man sweat that much since Criss Angel was pulled over in his van that I mentioned earlier, just for a busted tail light. Nice work, and congrats.





Alright Now,
-Crotchward F. Crotchback

 
P.S. I would like to submit another addition to the official Team Seagal List of Manliness - Operating a Jackhammer.

This Sunday!

Greetings. It was just brought to my attention that this fucking Sunday is in fact the Joe Dirt Ride, put on my the Rolla Giant himself, one Dan Fuhrmann. Here's the info:

http://www.route66bicycles.com/merchant/2197/files/dirtyjoefondo.pdf

There are battle plans being drawn up in the Team Seagal War Room to deploy a strike force, the likes of which Rolla's tain'ts have never seen.

Speaking of things you never seen, I have found another, moar extreme recumbent trike vid. Right of the bat, it starts off fucking extreme:




I got some fancy new tires, and they are so extreme, that they belong on a KMX Trike, right next to the Shimano Megarange 11-34 freewheel and the Camelback water bottle. So... Who's in for some Burley Joe Dirtin'? I'm in.

-Casey F. Ryback

Get Stoked.

In order to help you jerks get excited for some Jerkduro business, I thought it only appropriate to get with the "stokage" by providing you with some intense off road footage.

I haven't seen this much needless dismounting since the last time I watched the B Race in the Bubba series have to dismount over a railroad tie.


In other news, please note that our own Titward made it on Drunk Cyclist! Check it out here:

http://drunkcyclist.com/2014/01/13/compton-kills-usac-blows/

I must also say that I thoroughly approve of DC's sign-off: "Ride Bikes. Drink Beer. Go Fuck Yourself." It is worth pointing out that our motto of "Get Totally Fucked" is essentially saying the same thing.




Here is an idea - who is in for a ride this coming Sunday? At this point, the weather is looking crunk as shit, though it is a pretty good assumption that, on account of the freeze-thaw, the trails will be sloppier than a cub scout's butthole after a week at Camp Criss Angel. They'll be sloppier than a juggalo's vagina on day 3 of The Gathering. So have some skinny-ish tires ready for some not-singletrack miles. Who's down?

-Casey F. Ryback

After Action Report for a Rocky 4 Style Jerkduro Series Training

Greetings, Fellow minivan afficionados. Here at Team Seagal HQ, we are all extremely pumped about the upcoming Jerkduro Series. We are more pumped than a tire on a Surly Moonlander pumped to 25 psi - you know, for road use. And this isn't just because the door prize may or may not be a "ZJ" from Tom Marsh. (Those are easy to get anyway.)

No, it is exciting because there is a chance to have some non-climbing skill playing a large part in bicycle "race" held in Missouri. And believe me when I say that as a dude who recently had to meet his physician at a nearby interstate weigh station in order to get my current weight recorded, I can appreciate gravity being on my side for once.

So how does a child of the '80's go about training for some hardened, winter riding competition? By going out plodding through Siberian-like St. Louis snow, much like he was taught after watching Rocky IV dozens of times:


Having teamed up with a Wisconsin-trained ally of the Team, we pulled a John Candy and headed East, towards the River. And despite not having a cool snow bike on one of the few days where it might make sense this far south, we still were able to slog through the gusting winds, knee-deep snow, and make it to the river, coming to rest just above Sister Marie You're-Alright-Charles Park, and gazing out:

There is a river there, trust me.

Said the lady smoking a cigarette in knee-high boots and a skirt under the bridge, "You guys are absolutely fucking crazy." To which I thought to myself, "at least I'm not the one whose about to get double-teamed under a bridge by two frozen cyclists."

Onward, we came across moar than one vehicle stuck in the snow, which we helped dislodge, only to see them get stuck once again 1/2 block down. Poor bastards. We were headed back in a westerly direction at this point, which had the wind directly at our faces. The poor mountain bike, with piddly little 2.2" wide tires which certainly weren't fat enough to be cool, kept me rolling further. I could feel Siberian strength coursing through my muscle fibers. I may put the "ale" into "clydesdale," but this clydesdale crushed tons of snow beneath my un-hip standard-width mountain bike tires. Fortunately, having dressed properly for the ride, neither of us had to resort to cutting open and then climbing inside our mountain bikes as if they were ton-tons in order to stay warm.

We arrived back at Crotch's Base Camp, where I had to melt my beard:

Great thing about an ice-beard is that wind doesn't penetrate it.




All the time spent out on the frozen Siberian Plains of South StL had me thinking about tires, and which ones work the best. I had come across an interesting article wherein the German cycle magazine, Tour, tested a number of tires as objectively tests. See the test here. However, I thought I could summarize it all for you, because we are a team that is about education, if nothing else.

One not-very-surprising result that I noticed, was that the Crank Brothers tire with the cool anodization just fell apart and had to be warrantied after two test-runs - frustrating, given it's high pricetag.

The Campagnolo tire, regarded as the most beautiful and aesthetically-pleasing tire, seemed to develop a better, more-supple, worn-in feel as the test went on - and it was also the only tire to have a user-replaceable bead and tread.

The Thomson Masterpiece tire showed absolutely no wear whatsoever, with the test-rider Friedrich noting that he expected that tire to outlast several wheels, brake pads and frames.

The newcomer to the market, the Rivendell tire, a gumwall, was the only tire to actually utilize full steel-belting, despite weighing 13 pounds per tire. But as Grant Peterson said, "Steel is the only real material," and that only those racers on carbon race bikes need tires with cotton or nylon casings. The Rivendell tire was also the only tire to make it all the way to the "AR-15 rifle" stage of the puncture-resistance test, however the results are somewhat skewed as it is only available in a 650b size and therefore doesn't compare equally to the 700c size of the rest of the test tires. Mr. Peterson, in response to complaints about the extra weight of the steel belting, said he is considering producing a tire with a wool or even a tweed casing. It must also be noted that the Rivendell tires were the only ones that specifically stated that they are incompatible with carbon rims.

Cervelo's tire was unable to be tested, as it was delivered with severe cracking due to premature dry-rot, thus rendering it unsafe to ride.We are currently waiting for a replacement to be shipped from the Canadian warehouse.

The tire from Cannondale showcased a revolutionary and proprietary design that utilized a series of integrated needle bearings all around the tread, and actually surpassed all other tires in rolling resistance, however it only worked on Cannondale-branded rims, and the process to change the tire proved to be needlessly complex, requiring a proprietary tools and a Cannondale dealer to do the work.

Trek re-entered the tire market under their own name once again, and, despite having the largest R&D budget than the rest of the manufacturers combined, was unanimously considered to be the most boring of all the tires tested. Said one tester, "It would be a pretty great tire, if I've never ridden any other tires. However, in order to keep up my image as an in-the-know, cutting edge bike guy, I am required to ride something that is more boutique, like the Lynskey tire."

Pinarello showed up to the test with a tire that has been in the works for a long time, and has developed a huge pedigree list of race results, having been ridden under some top racers. It had a very unique and instantly-recognizable cross-section as well. It performed admirably, however later in the day one of our test riders had been searching the internet and found an identical Asian knock-off tire for sale at 1/10th the price, making it hard to justify recommending the Pinarello tire. 

Quintana Roo's tire seemed to provide better performance in wet conditions, specifically if those wet conditions were as a result of puddles of urine - so for the QR test, they set the test track up in the men's urine-trough at the nearby ballpark.

Neither the THM or Cipollini tires were able to be tested. The magazine couldn't afford to get a hold of the THM tires for the test, and testers all agreed that they weren't cool enough to even get close to the Cipollini tires.

The highly anticipated Sram tire was unfortunately recalled 45 seconds into our test run. Fortunately, tester Friedrich survived long enough to bring the bike to a complete stop - surprising, considering that the bike was equipped with the recalled Red 22 Hydro discs that we had been too lazy to send back to Sram.

In the end, the Shimano tire was chosen as the best performing, most reliable, most straightforward tire out there, some people using the phrase "the gold standard."



We here at Team Seagal HQ hope that this has been educational for you, and that you can go forward and make educated purchasing decisions next time you buy a tire.

Looks like this snow will be around for a while, so you still have time to do some Rocky IV style training for the Jerkduro.

-Casey F. Ryback

2014 Winter Jerkduro Series

Have you been a proper jerk this holiday season? Eating and drinking everything in sight?

Well it's time to put that "training" to use, and with the help of gravity, see what you can do with those extra pounds. It's also a chance to work a few more "brah"s and gnar"s and "stoke"s  and "brown pow"s into conversation. And don't forgot your goggles, go pro mounts, body armor, and your POC helmet (or full face if you're really ready to SHRED). It's time for a little enduro action, Team Seagal style.

It's time for
Team Seagal's Winter Jerkduro Non-race Series.

When:
Sundays January 26 thru March 3 weather permitting *SEE BELOW*

Where:
Bluff View Trail, Glencoe, MO

What:
Jerkduro Non-Racing
1. Riders will sign in at the parking lot near the Al Foster trailhead and the little railroad
2. Everyone will head to the trail start off the Al Foster (at the signpost)
3. Riders will head up one at a time in 30sec staggered starts for the uphill timed segment. Riders leave in order of sign in
4. Riders will finish at the top of the singletrack where it meets the old road (the other signpost)
5. After all riders have reached the top we will regroup for the the timed descent
6. Riders will leave one at a time in 30 sec staggered starts for the timed downhill run
7. Finish is crossing the mini railroad tracks on the Al Foster

Total time= (Uphill segment) + 2x(DH segment)

We are doubling the downhill run to make it more enduro-ee. Plus we don't want the best times to be the guy or gal that can climb the fastest. We're jerks and are timing the uphill, but we're not that big of jerks.

*Weather/Scheduling notes*
 On the friday before each weekend there will be a post on whether the non-race is happening that weekend and what time the first rider will start. Due to typical freeze/thaw cycles, most Sundays the start times will be earlier (think 8:00-9:00). Some days it might be too warm and too wet, so then it will be cancelled. Maybe we'll get an unusual warm and dry spell of weather and we'll have a later start sometime. Ultimately, we hope to at least get a few of these in during those 6 Sundays.

As with all non-races entry is FREE. Please spread the word, but not too far. We're just a bunch of jerks looking to have some fun in the woods. No headaches please.

CXMAS - When Well-Adjusted, Respected Citizens Go Bad

Greetings, Champions of the Team Seagal Cause! I bet you didn't think it was going to happen. Neither did I. In fact, having been in somewhat-of-a-daze these last few months, I didn't think much at all was happening, besides losing battle after battle to the Troll of Laziness that lives in my belly. After many inquiries and continuous trip to Mt. Kohler, Lawman made it happen at nearly the last minute. Only slightly less ambitious of the more recent versions, this year marked a return to the site of, in my opinion, what was the best CXMAS - a CXMAS rife with controversy and butthurt. This year, we were moar subtle and discrete about our indiscretions and secretions.

Last-minute status aside, there were still somewhere in the toilet bowl of 100 like-minded jerks that showed up. Hard to believe that many people had nothing else to do and nowhere else to be on the weekend in between Christmas and New Years, and therefore elected to ride their bikes in some dreary, windy, frozen-ass, gas-ass-sheep weather.

The Ultimate Jerk, dispensing instructions

 As usual, Rudolph the PBR-nosed Dave was in attendance, to make sure that people were able to receive some badass Pabst shwag:

This year also marked the glorious return of Santa-Boz, who has a new, titanium sleigh that has improved snow-handling characteristics:

Note the fender hopeless tasked with defending against spray from a tire much wider than the fender itself

Not only was Santa-boz on his fatbike, but I believe that this year's CXMAS may have coincided with the local chapter of the national Dudes-On-Fatbikes Club, otherwise known as "Dudes on Fatties." There were more than a just few of them, and I was actually surprised to have not been lobbied for a "fat bike category," especially after an unsuccessful attempt at an official one in the Bubba races.

I suspect I know the real reason for all the fat bikes cropping up lately. Despite the lack of conditions in Missouri that provide a platform for them to be fully advantageous, they want to have the excuse I hear at the shop on a regular basis when the customer insists on purchasing a mountain bike instead of a road bike - even though they admit they'll never ride off pavement. "Well you know, if it's harder that's fine, I'm just getting a better work-out that way. You know."

It was windy as fuck (WAF) at the mound this day, and I think that served to motivate us to depart promptly. Fortunately, I had my new windproof uber-thermal tights, and oooweeee, I was in comfort-land. This is in stark contrast to Mark "Hardman" Grumpke's thermal leg-wear:

Seeing Mark's ability to give the weather a huge middle finger reminded me of something:

 Hell yes.

Continuing on in our jerk-infested escapes, I passed by one Nick "Red Wheel Bikes/Baby Clothes" Smith who had simply this to say:

I love riding through Busch Wildlife:

Stopping for a minute, I could hear the sound of a monster trucks coming down the road in a group:

It wasn't long, before I was fortunate enough to run into Bob "Disqualified in The Past For Attempting to Race Shirtless" Jenkins, and he had what may be the best CXMAS "get" evar:

Yeah, that's a 1990 issue - coincidentally one that I remember getting to look (somehow) when I was but a wee jerk. You shouldn't be surprised - seeing something like that really "sticks" to your memory, not unlike so many pages of this very magazine. Ah Playboy, thanks for the mammaries memories.

After about 15-20 minutes taking turns behind a large tree, we had to get back on the road as we were behind. We vowed to NEVER GIVE UP, and continually reminded ourselves of how motivated we are to succeed, because it is only ourselves that can keep us from being who we want to be. Don't Forget, Bob.

A few miles down the road, and further into the woods, we came a large group of people huddled together, much like emperor penguins on a glacier, shielding themselves from the wind. As it turns out, we found the obligatory Egg Nog station, and the start line of the only bicycle race to ever take place completely within the confines of Busch. I had to stop for some moonshine, courtesy of "The" Mitch:

Fortunately, that wasn't the only bottle of it.

These three weren't even aware of CXMAS: they were already drinking alone out in the woods and we happened to show up. What are the odds!

Claire, Tom "Foolery" Marsh, and (Marty?)

After some general rabble-rousing, hijinks, funny business and shenanigans, the CXMAS Dirt Crit was about to start:

And it was on:

What were we thinking? What a terrible idea. Fortunately, I was able to turn to Rock, who would be the voice of reason and responsibility:

I'll be honest, I don't even really know who won what, but we gave away some pretty shweet Pabst Shtuff to the chicks, the dudes, and the one-gears:

By this point, we had all been standing around for quite a while, and the slow trickle of body warmth escaping my nice, expensive breathable cycling clothing had left me with little heat in my body, except for in my colon, where my slowly-building steamer was maintaining the necessary heat required for a proper jenkem high, later.

So we had to depart, leaving no trace that we were there. But very shortly down the trail, we had to stop again, and revisit CXMAS's past, specifically the site where Mr. Jenkins originally set the bar (seemingly) un-attainably high in terms of egg-nog ingested:

2009

2013

Let's not forget the fat coiler that some human left there that year as well.

We didn't have far to go now, and most of that distance we'd be going with the wind at our backs. Up until now, that wind had been more annoying than the thought of having a saddlebag mounted like this:

This next picture encompasses a sort of "white whale" for me. In Busch Wildlife, there are countless of old munitions bunkers, scattered throughout the hills. And they are all numbered, usually with three numbers. I have been dreaming of finding a bunker with the number "666" on it for years. I am proud to say, that on the ride back to the car, I finally found it:

So what if the last 6 was spray painted. It exists, and so I'll be heading back out there to set up a death metal recording studio in the coming weeks. FUCK YES. \m/





I was very glad to finally reach the vehicle, at which point I pissed on a concrete block, and then Brett and I followed the leader to a nearby eatery in Dante's outer circle of hell - AKA The Chesterfield Valley. At this eatery we found several dozen more CXMAS'ers eating and drinking. What an excellent way to finish a ride which is already an excellent year-finisher for everyone around these parts who rides.

Stay tuned, for there is more to come. In the meantime, get familiar with the Bluff View Trail.

-C"Rot"ch


P.S. Digiorno and Titty are fucking jerks.

CXMas Teh 6th special edition

http://teamseagal-cxmas.blogspot.com/

that is all.

Two Rivers MTB Park

Greetings, Team Seagal Fans! It has been a long time, no-see. These days, ole' Crotchy doesn't get out of the house much, let alone out of town. I mean, the last time this Jerk ventured out of this state for a road trip with his bike was definitely a few years ago. In the meantime, I've been carefully sculpting, with the help of many a carbonated and fermented-beverage, a Zipp-Firecrest-like stomach, to assist with aerodynamics. Complete with a centrally-located dimple, surrounded by hair.

So despite not participating in much lately and not updating this much this year, I though I'd share the experience of a new trail many of you probably had not ridden yet. The opportunity came about to get out of town for a day to go check out something new with a couple of partners in crime, so I jumped on that chance like I would a freshly-opened bag of Doritos after a night of Wizard Sticks. Narrowly escaping the high winds at Mt. Pleasant CX with Lawman, I made my escape and headed towards Springfield, bike in tow. My goal was to meet Sean and Casey, where we would commence gnar-shredding procedures the next day at the new-ish Two Rivers Mountain Bike Park, near Springfield, MO.


Next day arrives, and we venture out first in search of breakfast provisions, which we found at the Gold Star Diner in beautiful Billings, MO. A place frozen in time, as it still allowed smoking indoors. I felt like Lloyd Christmas in Dumb and Dumber:

 "Feels good to mingle with these laid-back country-folk, don't it, Harry?"

Not long after finishing the B&G (biscuits and gravy), eggs, sausage and waffles, we grabbed our shit and set a course for the trailhead, which we found with minimal (not zero) drama. On a beautiful, sunny Monday morning, we rolled into a quiet gravel lot, where we found awesome facilities - changing room, portable pooper, wide open fields (that may allow camping?) free Wifi, map of the trailhead, and a fun little skills park right there. My first thought was how perfect of a venue this would be for a mountain bike festival, a 12/24 hour race, an XC race, any number of things. Super clean.

What else did I see off the edge of the lot? A shuttle-able slope-style run:

Kinda hard to see, but that is like 9-10 badass bermed-out switch-backs, with a wooden wall-ride.

I had not even hopped on my bike, and yet I had already seen more berms than currently exist in the rest of this state!

And there were still almost 10 miles of trail to ride.

The three of us, Casey (his second time mountain biking, ever), Sean (long-time supporter of big tobacco), and myself, the Unflushable Turd. Of course, we start out with a fairly lengthy climb, which brought back memories of gravy-drenched breakfasts and a year of daily drinking. We crested near the top of the slope-style run, and decided to hit it - too bad I left my dropper-post at the store, because I never actually bought one. No matter, we bombed that thing like the Council Bluff pit toilets, and got to the bottom thinking "Holy shit, what was that?!" All I knew was that "I wanted to do it again."

Venturing back up the same hill, we found our way towards the start of the "West Trail" after passing the entry runway for the DH Flow Trail, for which I was more excited than Criss Angel backstage at a One Direction concert:

We continued onto the West Trail, which was a large loop that was definitely a "XC"-style trail, but one that was obviously designed by the same people who are designing flowy gravity-runs. What do I mean by that? These are BUUUUUFFFFFF trails that provide ample opportunity for putting space between your tire-tread and the trail-surface in the form of wicked air, brah. Not that you have to take these opportunities, but while riding the XC trail, expect that little rises and undulation in the terrain will scream out for you to hit the gas for a few pedal strokes, resulting in fun little pump-track sections that are perfectly suited for a XC/trail bike.

Sean-naynay on the "Bluff Line" section

Oh yeah, did I mention that sprinkled throughout the trail there are man-made stunts that are low on the drama-scale, but high on the fun scale?

Not to mention all the tee-totters and other randomly-strewn skinnies that we encountered while riding the "West Trail." Plenty of natural obstacles were utilized, and it was pretty obvious that most of the hills were designed for maximum fun while descending, which meant sweeping turns and periodic rises in the ground that would be perfect for air-ing it out. Which isn't to say that the climbing was horrible - as a 225lb dude on a singlespeed 29'er, the climbs were gravely-and-smooth, not-eroded, with occasional short sections where I'd have to be out of the saddle to muscle a steep spot into submission. Did I mention buff? It was clear that in the not-so-distant past, perhaps only a few days prior, someone had taken a leaf-blower to the trail and made it even easier for us to find our way.

After riding the 8-ish mile West Trail, we found ourselves having climbed back to the top of the DH run, which starts with an opening-ramp, shoots you into two tabletops, into a wall ride, and then into the woods for more one-way shredding. It is all "roll-able" and doesn't require you to commit to massive speed and drops, but it certainly rewards you if you do:

Hey Ladies, there's moar than enough to go around...

 

2nd time mountain biking, for this guy. Nice!

Few feet down the trail, the gnar' bar was raised:

Expendables-esque level of badassery. This wall ride (one of 3 or 4 that I saw) led us right down the one-way DH trail, which was totally ridable on an XC-oriented bike like we had. It would be more fun with with a proper bike, but you'll be finishing that short run with a huge smile on your ugly face sooner than you can say "fully-active suspension."  Oooooo-fucking-wee.

Ending that run with the confidence that Shimano hydraulic brakes allow, we worked our way over to the trailhead where we unloaded our pockets so that we could play around on the "skills park."

The skills park was all laid out right next to the parking lot, so you don't have far to go. That way, much like a Cross-fitter with a smartphone, everyone can see how totally awesome you are.

One of the many things that make this park special is the fact that it was designed as a whole unit, as opposed to most other trails that happen to be in a park, and evolve over the course of years, sometimes decades (not that that is necessarily a bad thing.) The trail network is extremely well-marked, flows better than my colon after drinking an entire pot of morning coffee, and you can download the map at the trailhead wif' yo' phone. We got extra stoked when talking with Jason, a dude we met at the top of the DH run and then again at the trailhead to told us all about the fancy shit that is going on down there.

And I almost forgot the cherry on top - in a shack next to the parking lot, I found what appears to be a defunct jenkem lab. I wanted to make sure I got evidence of it, because it might help to entice our good Doctor and C-Dubbs to hasten their return-trips to MO:

It won't be long now before the State Cross Race lands here in St. Louis - and in everyone's favorite place for CX - St. Vincent Park. No doubt people will complain about it though, because that is what people do - complain about it being too hilly, too flat, too twisty, too straight, too dry, too sloppy, too bumpy, too much like a crit, too mountain-bikey, always too much getting mired in sandy-vag-pits. 'Cept for Peat, whom I witnessed wielding the Sword of Positivity this past weekend: upon arriving in a conversation he was having with someone who was complaining about that bad grass-mowing, he simply responded by saying "I think it is great - the course it great, everything about it is awesome." The more people show up to race and/or heckle, the better the atmosphere will be.


In the meantime, please view this local news story (not local to StL though, unfortunately:)



As usual, you're welcome!
-C'rot"ch 

Bootlegger's Burnin' - 2013

Fistfights.

Pork chops.

Jesus in a boat.

Slashed car tires.

Gasoline-soaked plush sheep.

Drunkenly wandering through the woods.

These are just some of the great mammaries (memories?) I have of this Missouri mountain biking institution, this year, 2013, being the 10th iteration of Burnin' at the Bluff. However, some things in life are, despite our best efforts otherwise, beyond our control. In this case, it's Federally controlled land and recreational areas.

In all the years we've maintained this ridiculous blog, one thing that we've prided ourselves on was the total avoidance to anything political, and instead, focusing on our shared love for all things cycling/80's action movies/huffing fermented sewage. So despite our government's insistence on acting like small children (and not doing their fucking jobs), there won't be any (further) commentary on the matter via this blorg. Because let's face it, we may be losing an official place to hold a bicycle race, but plenty of other people are losing much more.



So all that being said, we may be losing an official place to hold a bicycle race, but we are also GAINING an UNOFFICIAL place to hold a bicycle Non-Race. "But Crotch, you un-inspired turd-licker, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Bootlegger's Burnin' Non-Race

Where: Enough Boat Launch (just a few miles east of Hwy DD on Hwy 32)
When: 9am get your number, 10am start - on Saturday. Same day as actual Burnin' was supposed to be.
Format: TBD, but expect something like 6 or 7 laps, with minimal (if any) categories - men's/women's solo, 3-person open team. THIS IS ALL SUBJECT TO CHANGE, so be ready to learn the deets come Saturday morning.
Course: The Council Bluff Trail.
Camping: primitive, 100' from the trail. Keep fires small and to a minimum.

Do's: come and ride your bike, hang out, and also get mini-van'd
Don't's: forget to bring your own supply of toilet paper and water, shit on the road, camp in the parking lot, block the boat ramp or road, or get offended at the ridiculous bullshit that you will see this weekend

Remember, all the best things come in 10's - fingers, 1/4 mile times, the metric system, Letterman Top Ten Lists, and mountain bike races. Lest we not forget, there are a lot of familiar out-of-town jerks journeying from places far away like New York, Seattle, Prescott AZ, Denver, and more just for this event. So let's make the trip worth their while.

-C"Rot"ch Ryback

P.S. Something about having typed all that out is inspiring me to journey once again to the top of Mt. Kohler. Wish me luck.

Greetings from the PNW, MFG Seattle CX Race #1 Big Finn Hill Report

Jerks,

Mason Storm here from wonderful Washington State with a short race report from yesterdays race in the MFG Seattle CX Series. Check them out HERE.  I'm such a JERK that this season I'm working for them as a course volunteer in exchange for a comped season pass, similar to my bubba days, but on a level that is still hard to grasp. Cross out here is insane, and yesterday proved it. Race was held at Big Finn Hilll Park in Kirkland, WA. Hilly, technical, greasy, gravely, muddy, and fast! This season marks a lot of first for me as a CX racer, so not only am I racing in  a whole new state, I'm doing it on a 1x11 2013 Kona Unit 29er Rigid with hydraulic Disc Brakes, and Tubeless wheels. Stoked is all I can say after yesterdays race, disc brakes are where its at in CX. Sneak Peek below.

I've already ordered some new tubeless CX tires that I will swap out to before #2, decided to go with the Stan's Ravens 700x35, and I know I'll be able to rip with that faster/lighter set-up. A huge change also for me in my category as here in WA they have so many racers they can actually support a Clydesdale CAT, so being the HUGE JERK that I am I signed up for the big boy show. I've decided to drink moar beers as to keep the weight up throughout the season, and go for the series overall leader in the clydesdale cat this season. Trying to focus on FUN, FITNESS, & FREE racing as my mantra for my season as I got nothing to loose, except maybe a few LBs leading into the 2013-14 snowboard season.

All 16 of us were well over 200 LB lining up. Fuck, the dude that won looked like Dolph lundgren ate Carl Weathers, and Shit Jason Statham, Homeboy was SWOLL, like his ass got stung by a million bees right before the race started! Race started with a fast gravel straightaway that led into a slick off camber up hill, down hill, corner fuck fest, and I watched two guys eat it within the first minute of the race. My bike choice was proving to be the secret weapon, and I was able to ride the whole course with no issues. The course was a blast to ride, and I was having a blast with my new KONA. Looking forward to racing my MTB every weekend this Fall. I ended up playing yoyo with 2nd place until I snapped his wrist halfway through our bell lap. First race over, 2nd Place finish. Felt great on the bike, stoked for the season ahead.

GTF'ED JERKS,

M. Storm