I Live For Exposure

Not that kind of exposure… as much of a glory whore as I am I could care less about whether you know how rad I am or am not.

I love tall scary things. I feel like I wasted the last few years of my life in suburbia riding road bikes and being safe-ish. Racing local things and "shredding" front range trails. Waving as the past significant other passes me on her way to yoga as I finish riding at 8am with 45 year old men.

Let's run the metrics real quick. I have put less than 500 miles on my road bike this year, an equal amount of time on my mountain bike and worn out one rope. #America.

I literally forget how much I love climbing until I get my lead head about me on the sharp end. I can still climb a 5.9 all day long if I have a friend in town and they want to go climb but I'm not comfortable doing it. I just know that it's my baseline. Hanging off 2 fingers way up in the air and being comfortable enough to look around and say, "Yes, this is my life and I am happy," is a different monster. And being in that zone is sweeter than anything in the world.

MOAB teaches me that on a bike every damn year I visit there. I linked together the sweetest turns I have ever put together on the Whole Enchilada this year. Things I never would have turned my brain onto were automatic for some reason that morning. It might have been the beer at the halfway point. Going fast enough on a mountain bike to get tunnel vision and literally only hear your heartbeat and see what is in your immediate line is a special feeling. Couple it with a wicked trail and actually commit to the drops and you turn into a rockstar real fast in your own head.

Anyways, cheers to exposure. Big lines, overhangs and being scared.

It's Not About The Bike

Admitted. I am a bike snob.

Always have been and always will be, that doesn't mean that many of my fellow compatriots that don't buy a new bike every year aren't way faster than me.

Recently I sold my S-Works Tarmac. That 14lb wonder bike that made me giddy about having the Ferrari of machines. I sold it to "get back to my roots" and bought an Allez Expert Ultegra Bike. And by "get back to my roots" I really mean "pay rent for 3 months while I ride a bike 1 pound heavier. I sincerely miss my Tour De France winning machine, I am not slower on Strava because of it though. Apparently my muscles can't tell the difference between a ridiculously expensive plastic bike and an every man aluminum one. Both cool bikes I guess. And I live free for 3 months.

Joel Dyke posted this today and it made me happy. This was a photo of one of my first Dirty Kanza attempts (#2 I guess) but this was the best bike I have ever owned. Hands down. That's a Tricross Expert Aluminum frame with Ultegra 9 speed and Mavic open Pro rims laced to ultra hubs. Yes i owned my dream bike at 19 and yes it was amazing. I literally owned 2 road bikes at the same time I owned this and refused to ride anything else ever. I sold this machine for $750 and regret every second of it. 3 water bottle cage bosses, my fit, beautiful hand built wheels and more miles with my best friends than anyone can understand.

Moral of the story: Don't sell your friends. I regret selling my Tricross and X-Cal, sometimes you have to dance with the one who brought you. Wish I still had them around.

So cheers to lost loves.