3CogBlog.com

 I was fortunate enough to meet some friends for a Valmont riding session the other day. I've known Jesse since the pre-child days and now both of us are fathers. My girls are both skilled bike riders but they really accell at the sportsball activities. They have inherited the gene for team ball sports from their mother. Jesse's son on the other hand is a cycling prodigy. He flows with incredible style over the biggest jump lines or across the finish line. At one point Jesse and another dad split for the slopestyle line and I went with the boys over to the trick jump. I may have mentioned before that I believe tricks are an important aspect of jumping bikes. I just think if you're going to jump bikes, why not do some tricks? The alternative route for progression is to just keep jumping bigger and bigger jumps and this can lead to a plateau with severe consequences. To me a cool trick on a medium size jump is more impressive than a dead sailor over a massive jump. Basically,...

 The first time I saw a brake rotor draw blood was with my old dog Seamus . Seamus loved to chase bikes, he was a great dog.  A black and white border collie lab, he was born in Crested Butte and later honed his bike dog skills on the singletrack trails of Bend, Oregon.   I wouldn't say he was cuddly and loving, he was more like a heroin junkie jonzing for a fix. As soon as he saw me or any other human he would find some item to drop at your feet and begin begging you to throw it. He would lift the stick or slimy tennis ball up and try to spit it into your hand. If you hid the ball he would find a stick. If you hid the stick he'd find a rock. He was relentless. His lower teeth were chipped and broken from his fetching habit and he kept himself in constant motion, desperate to chase or retrieve. He was a dock jumper, frisbee catcher and bike chaser. The first bike he learned to chase had Vee brakes. So neither of us were expecting what happened when he chased me on my...

 I was in the middle section of a long climb when another rider slowly closed the gap behind me. As he started to crank past me I heard a slight swiping sound in the cadence of his pedal strokes. Vip,vip,vip,vip. He didn't say anything as he rode past, but I looked over at his rig and saw the cause of the swiping sound. He had his knee pads on the wrong knees and the straps were on the inside. With each rotation of the pedals the nylon straps rubbed against his frame and shock. I try to be a helpful mountain biker. I'm always willing to give trail directions or help change a flat. And I try not to be judgmental, everyone was a beginner at once. I remember someone pointing out a tire I had mounted backwards, the little rotation arrow going the wrong way. I also wore a women's ski jacket for several seasons. I never would have known if someone didn't notice the buttons on the opposite side. It's also possible to be a bike rider for a long time, yet not be very familia...

 I realized it as soon as I parked my car at the trailhead and stepped out. I mentally facepalmed myself. I had forgotten to grab my helmet. I know we used to ride bikes without helmets. Even the first mountain bikers. But nowadays I don't even cruise the side walk without a helmet. I'm definitely not riding a sick day at Left Hand without a brain bucket. At least I was by myself so I wasn't ruining anyone else's day. I accepted the fact that I wouldn't be doing any hardcore riding and resigned myself to some trail maintenance. It was still a beautiful day and I was in my favorite place, so I headed up. I thought about the judgement I would receive from other mountain bikers, but no one lectured me about head trauma. Then I stashed my bike and became a hiker anyway.  The last time I rode Indy I did notice lots of loose rocks. In my thirty-plus years on a mountain I've realized that loose rocks on a trail are just as sketchy then as they are now. I've also re...

 I've been off the bike for a long time, so it was nice to kick off the season for real. The first thing I did was bring a total newb to Valmont. He's a kid I work with who's a wildland firefighter. He said he's never had to chance to mt. bike but always wanted too. So I threw him on a dirt jumper and told him where to go. He did awesome. I sent him down the small slope style line, dual slalom, pump tracks and single tracks.  With full sleeve tattoos and a borrowed skid lid he already looked like an X Games pro. It was fun to see him work up the courage to do the tiny diving board. The first time he pedaled towards it, then stopped and had to start over. I got to see the exhilaration of a successful attempt. The ride went perfectly and at the end he was googling used dirt jumpers. A few days later I got out on my first trail ride. My riding buddy Aki took me out to a new trail that I had only heard about. We started down and encountered a large rock slab. I scoped it ou...

 History is a giant wave washing  over the timeline, some things float to the top and get carried along with it, while others are swept away for ever. In the months after 9/11, footage of the event played on tv news every day for weeks. The attack only lasted a few hours, but hundreds of hours of video footage was captured. I assumed that the internet would hold a record of those video clips, but it really doesn't. All that exists now is some carefully curated footage and most of it is in documentaries.  One particular memory I have can't be found online, maybe it's in some newsroom vault or maybe it was erased and taped over. But I can describe it. The man filming is running down the streets getting closer and closer to the first tower. He arrives just as the first tower falls. A wave of darkness blocks out the camera and you can hear the powerful wind howling past like a hurricane. Gradually light starts to come back and the street he was on is transformed into a mono-c...