Sunday, April 10, 2011

Ring Recap

I am slacking big time on getting this film developed and I have no digi pics as that camera decided suicide was a better option than being stuck capturing the dreary images of my so called life, so here are some that I ran through a couple of filters which revealed some amazing bits I hadn't expected. Last week consisted of endless emails about top tube lengths, rack designs, redneck styling and the like. a rowdy single track technician ready and able to act as head sherpa on an overnight expedition. I never thought I would get sick of talking about my custom bike and exactly how I want it. The emails didn't stop there was a massive undertaking to discuss, one that has not even been completed in 3 days let alone one, which our group was going to be attempting. Talk of food and water caches, start times and weather combined with the stress of looking for a new apartment added up to one hectik week for your not so humble orator. I had trouble getting to sleep that night as I was still trying to load up on calories as I slivered down into my sleeping bag under a think comforter of stars Wednesday night. Just shy of 4AM, folks began to stir, water on the boil and bags being packed. A pair of lonely headlights made thier way up toward camp Roosevelt which could only be the one Chris Scott. Most folks had thier powerful mountain bike lighting systems which are good for about 2 hours of light, but I opted for a AA powered commuter light which doesnt pack nearly the lumens of the larger systems but lasts much longer and is far lighter. I figured we would be needing lights on the back end of the trip so this would pack nicely.

A boyscout is always prepared. Almost always. This former scout just picked up his frame last week and didn't have a chance to chase down spare derailleur hangers so I needed to be extra cautious on this journey. Everytime a rock or branch passed dangerously close, the image of a man in puffy pants came to mind...

The spare hangers I ordered had arrived at work while I was starring at the one I had sheared off on Sherman. Luckily, Scooter carries a nifty little emergency hanger that attatches to the axle and I was able to make it the next couple of miles to Veach Gap where we dropped down to meet Matt who had bailed earlier.

I was so burnt I had trouble figuring out how to get my chain sorted out. Had one not known better, they may have thought me to be on a heavy dose of psychadelics, watching me try to figure out how to untangle my chain as the coveage of grease on hands slowly crept up my forearms befor e I finally just unhooked the quicklink and ran the chain back through.

Muddied, bloodied, battered and bruised, our group called it a day, but vowed to review the information obtained on this trip to begin preparations for the next attempt...

Bath time for this cat...

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