Some Classic Wrenching

Some bicycle mechanics lust over the latest and greatest.  I must admit I often fall victim to this myself.  There is almost nothing as gratifying as working on the latest wonder bike.  Operating the unbelievably crisp and responsive shifting. Felling that sweet nectar of hydraulic fluid smoothly compress and move pistons with even the lightest squeeze of the brake lever.  No strange noises.  No crude manufacturing.  No guess work.  Perfection to be admired for sure.

But there are other aspects of mountain bikes that should be equally be admired... that not of progress, but of origin.

A dusty relic of a bicycle was rolled into the shop the other day. Covered in filth, neglected, over sprayed with possible house paint, sun worn tires.  A double diamond derelict.  A lost soul with not much to offer in it's current state but a hint of blue and a rather large upstanding set off bull moose handlebars. But there was something different about this particular ride.  For under all that grime was hiding a 1984 Specialized Stumpjumper in almost all original dress.  No obvious upgrades but bone stock.  It appeared to even have the original chain, brake pads, foam grips and now destroyed tires.

I didn't realize this at first glance and had to do some research to figure it all out.  Seems that Specialized only began making production bikes in 1982, so this model was only the 3rd year a factory MTB could even be purchased by general society.  In other words, a mountain bike could now be ridden by those who could not actually build there own.

The shop ticket simply stated "overhaul with slime tubes".  No recognition of the prize to be worked on, no symbolism or notation separating this bicycle from the other countless cobwebbed atrocities I had brought back to life before.  I was actually going to have rewarding experience with this one.

First task was the removal of the horrific speckled white over spray spattered all over the rear triangle.  Luckily, some alcohol removed the offense and I started to see the factory blue come back around.  With some cleaning and then application of Pedro's Bike Lust, the blue hue really began to represent.  Luckily the rest of the bike showed no signs of corrosion.  All the aluminum was pristine and as I opened up the headset and bottom bracket there was zero evidence of rust or contamination.  In fact, the grease was still blue in color and probably was first applied during initial assembly at the factory.

I didn't take any before and during pics but did take some after.  A few highlights that can't be seen was the all aluminum headset (besides races).  What made this unit even cooler was the fact that the upper cup sleeve was drilled before pressed into the frame to shave ever gram possible.  The brake levers have a rubber boot that surrounded the hinge mechanism and long leads wrapped around the bar and clipped onto a pin on the back of the lever. Overall the bike was in great shape but the extra effort of the overhaul really came up with an "as new" creation.  Like a quick time travel back to 1984.

Sure was a fun test ride (or maybe two... had to be sure it was working well)

Check out the fierce stance:

The control center:

Maximum chainstay length:

Sweet crown:

Way, way pre-HG drivetrain:

:

Rear derailleur with no outer cage:

Tommaselli moto levers (with cover):

Suntour friction thumbies:

Front derailleur with a few extra links:

Parting shot:

The specifications:

• Model: 1984 Stumpjumper
• Frame: OS Double Butted Cro-Moly
• Fork: Double Butted Cro-Moly    
• Rear Derailleur: Suntour Le Tech
• Front Derailleur: Suntour Le Tech
• Hubs: Specialized sealed
• Rims: Saturne X32
• Tires: (replaced during overhaul)
• Brakes: Shimano Deore XT
• Brake Levers: Tommaselli Racer
• Crank: Specialized 26/36/46
• Pedals: Suntour 
• Shifter: Suntour thumb
• Handlebar: Specialized X-2+2 aluminum 
• Freewheel: Suntour NW 13-30
• Stem: Slingshot alloy
• Color: Blue  

Although some of this info I already knew, I did find out the details of dates and figured out which model I had in my stand by grazing through the info provided on MOMBAT.org (Museum of Mountain Bike Art and Technology).  In fact, I got distracted with a few articles on parts I actually owned in the past.  Has me thinking of doing a little BLOG entry on the origins of my passion with mountain bikes.

Stay tuned....

Rolling in Prescott

Sticki headed up north again today despite the cooler local temps that Scottsdale is finally starting to provide it's summer weary inhabitants. After meeting some new-found friends at Raven Cafe to discuss avenues to pursue that could expand our collective love of cycling... we connected with Brooke, Andy and Danielle. Meeting place was to be Thumb Butte parking lot and little dog Jessi was brought along for good measure.

It's nice to see many of the trees starting to change colors. Air always smells a bit sweeter this time of year in places that actually have seasons. Was a bit windy and the temperature was just about perfect. The route was to be the road to White Rock (now Green Rock), down to 332 past the old corral and across the boulder field by the rail road grade. From there we'd wind around IMBA (or Boulder trail) and eventually connect to "The Luge". After that we were to be shown the newly completed 317 which would take us all back to the cars.

Up the road we went and on to White Rock. Lacking any film evidence, I happened to complete the most gratifyingly slicing turn between the two largish boulders just past the flume. I wouldn't even mention it except for the fact of how well the maneuver actually worked out in a physical sense. I am sure we have all seen an obstacle approaching rapidly and envisioned the perfect way to handle it. To flow through it effortlessly with not even a touch of pedal or scrub of knobby. Seldom have I had the experience of such an exacting connection between the mental visualization and the reality of the physical movement itself. Bicycle and man were of perfect symbios and the dirt was my canvas.

Today my firends, I was Michaelangelo incarnate!

A bit much? I suppose it might be. All I know is the chances of me flying through that section again with such precision are slim to none... but sure was great to hit it at least one time exactly as I had imagined.

I then decided to take some pics of the girls in as close to the same place on the trail as possible. Basically, all of them exiting White Rock and maneuvering through a sweeping left hander. Was just curious to see how each ones position might differ slightly from the next. Plus as we have already learned, Micki and Brooke do enjoy their time in front of the lens.

Micki carving:

Brooke as well:

Danielle follows suit:

And all together now:

After this, we all headed down to the corral. Someone had cut through my favorite fallen log towards the bottom so the lobe of my brain dedicated to technique was disappointed... but my speed lobe was not. Snapped a few shots at the corral.

Micki and the tall pines:

Little Brooke and the seemingly even taller pines:

Andy and Jessi the floating head:

Up past the chimney to the boulder fields. Rumors had been spread that stunts existed in the area, so a preliminary exploration party consisting of the three girls was sent up the hill. I found a small plank to a bowl shaped boulder next to the trail,  but heard some commotion above and headed up to investigate for myself. A "truish" North Shore stunt had actually been found, although it was pretty neglected and weather worn. After some pine needle clearing, it was determined that I was give it a go first. Micki had her new I-Pod Nano with video capability, so it was a good opportunity to film either my success... or perhaps just my bloody failure. Andy knocked down some of the exposed nails and Jessi ran point which helped me set the pace for the first attempt up the bridge.

Beat rocking achievement:


Prescott North Shore from Elvota on Vimeo.

We then all worked our way over to "The Luge" after Andy performed an impressive one handed descent back down to the railroad grade. Why one hand you ask? Well, the other had to hold the camera to film all the DH action of course. Will be interesting to see the footage when they post up.

Eventually we made it back to Trail 317 which was really well constructed and planned. Flowed very nicely with not to much pitch and enough rocks intermixed with curves to keep one interested. I am sure trying it the other way would be truly rewarding to the gravity assist set... which I generally include myself among.

The temperature began to drop rapidly at this point and after saying goodbyes we headed back down to the Valley. A quick stop at Sunflower for a soup bowl and salad left tummies full and nothing left to really achieve besides instructing traffic as cordially as possible from the left lane into the right lane all the way back into town.

Entering the Realm of Tubeless Technology

"and the heavens wept with glee as the last old school tube running holdout finally folded."

- anonymous new schooler

Well, I decided the other day to give this whole tubeless phenomenon a whack. Sick and tired of snake bites in the rear, I was finally to the point that I was willing to at least try this new fangled experimental technology on my own ride. Who knows, I suppose it might work and allow me to run a little less pressure... all the while gaining some traction, comfort and speed. Plus, I couldn't help thinking that I'd feel just a little more awesome on the trails.

Now, before anyone get's too carried away... I am only going tubeless in the rear. I can't get so crazy as to run both wheels without an air bladder of some sort. These young wipper snappers of today may be all gung ho, but I have to take baby steps. Besides, with no risk of a flat I'll feel like I am cheating and may never have to work on my bike on the trail again. Now where is the fun in that, I ask you?

I knew I didn't want to use Stan's because I was afraid of the damage it might cause to my rim. I had heard it was fairly caustic and even if it was all rumor, I didn't want to run the risk on my fancy Shimano XT wheelset. My other issue was the narrow choice in UST tires, at least in tires I like. I currently enjoy the Kenda Small Block 8 for the rear, but they seem to only make a UST version in the 2.1 size. Useless for a big tire rock hound such as myself. So, I went with a standard issue Kenda SmallBlock in the 2.3 size with hopes that it would work.

Me on my way to the shop, XT rear wheel on my back:

The first sealant I decided to try was Caffe Latex... some type of super sealant from Italy. Supposedly a gentler compound that's easier on rims as well as tires. The online info is far superior to what the label on the bottle has for you to read.

Uhmmm... yeah:

Your basic info on the front of the bottle. A massive UPC code for easy checkout, some recommendations based on tire sizes, the Italian flag and about 15 European languages all saying one thing... "bicycle tyre sealant". Notice even that is spelled out in English English and not American English. Italians... don't these guys have something to do with Campagnolo as well?

Marketing department loves the UPC dominate look:

On to the back, and you might as well not even bother. Seems to be a random grouping of sample verbiage from around the world. If you are lucky enough to even find a line you can read, it won't do you much good unless you've drank the stuff or got it in your eyes. I won't even begin to debate how impossible to read the label could be once you have latex sealant in your eyes... but I digress.

Find the English:

All that said... who cares?

Instructions are for those who want to read and are afraid of experimentation. Luckily for me, I am good to go on both.

Now, they also offer a really cool injector which allows you to pump the stuff straight through your valve hole (man, that sounds gnarly). No mess and an exact measure of how much solution you have added into your tire. Bah.... who needs that type of precision and cleanliness? Plus, this injector costs more money which I didn't want to spend. So I just improvised.

Not for turkey basting:

The first thing I did was mount the tire on the wheel with zero solution. I inflated it to about 50 PSI just to see what would happen. The bead popped into place just fine and it did actually hold air. A good sign I thought. Almost right away I started to hear popping from the side wall. Tiny rubber bubbles were coming up from the casing and then disappearing with a little "snap". I figured this was the non UST sidewall not being up to the task of holding the air pressure. I hoped the latex would solve the issue. I also had leaks around the bead... which was to be expected with a "dry" mount.

I relieved the air pressure and popped one of the beads loose opposite the valve stem:

The bottle suggested 100 ml for a 2.0 tire, just under the half of the 250 ml bottle. I made my best guess and poured the stuff in. No foamy super bubble action yet. Kind of disappointing. Really just looked like soy milk at this point.

Yummy vanilla:

After clicking the bead back into place I re-inflated the wheel. This is when the action really started to happen!! I had vanilla foam showing up all over the place. Those tiny bubble holes in the casing all started to spew. I mean eject this stuff at high velocity! Like little geysers of latex everywhere. That part kinda sucked. I think with a UST tire it wouldn't have been an issue, but silly me didn't go UST. The bead started to show signs of sealing and I was on my way to getting rid of tubes forever (at least in the rear... baby steps remember).

Troubling foaming action:

I kept bouncing and spinning the wheel in hopes for the mini-holes to seal. The stuff just kept bubbling out though and it seemed my experiment might be doomed to fail. I realized gravity and centrifugal force don't cover the inside of the sidewalls very well, so I began to spin the wheel flat like a table. That seemed to be working... but slowly. I wondered how well this Caffe Latex would actually do against thorn holes if it was having so much trouble sealing already?

I decided to pop the bead and add a little more of the solution. I imagined this mass of sticky, foamy "soy milk" spilling all over the place... but it was pretty tame. You could see some bubbles in the stuff, but nothing crazy. There was evidence of coverage on the casing and rim. Still very fluid though. I added a bit more of the liquid latex and popped the bead back into place with around 50 PSI once more. Eventually the tire began to hold pressure. I span it slowly and held the tire next to my ear to listen for leaks.

Luckily for me... there were none on the first couple of rotations. Unluckily for me, one sprouted up on the third and shot latex into my ear.

That felt awesome. I'll probably end up with some sort of ear cancer now that I'll blame on cell phone usage forgetting all about my voyage into "The Tubeless Realm". That's why I write stuff down on this BLOG now... so I won't forget who to blame in the future (which turns out most often to be myself, but that's not the point).

I got the wheel back home and placed it in the garage. It was holding pressure over night, but was low in the morning. Dropped to about 15 PSI. I re-inflated to 40 PSI with no noise, geysers or spew. Unfortunately checking the pressure a few minutes later revealed a drop back down to around 15 PSI. I decided at this point my first attempt to end my innertube reliance had failed. Be it the non-UST Kenda tire or the Caffe Latex ... I wasn't sure. I had heard of good luck with non-UST tires before with other sealant products, but perhaps this ultra-thin race ready Small Block 8 was just to thin.

Fast forward a few weeks to Interbike 2009. My goal was to find a UST tire with a good tread pattern, reasonable weight and large enough air volume. I did find a few to choose from, and the Hutchinson rep was nice enough to hand over their Toro XC UST tire and a bottle of sealant for me to try when I got home. I was back in business and ready to give it another go round.

The Hutchinson solution looked very similar to the Caffe Latex. The bottle itself however held a bit more useful information:

Actual instructions on the back:

Basically used the same technique as before except this time with a UST tire. Mounted and filled it dry first with zero issues. No leaks at the sidewall or rim. Even clicked into place with a simple floor pump. Broke the bead opposite the valve stem and poured half the bottle in per instruction. Now the floor pump and bead decided to be uncooperative and no matter my ferocity on the handle, I could gain no seal. With out an air compressor at my disposal (I know, mandatory man card point deduction) I was forced to use a CO2 cartridge to get things back on track. With a "woosh" and then a " snap" the tire was in place with no leaks what so ever. Bingo!

Holding pressure overnight, I planned to take out the bike on a T100 test ride the next day. I was able to run the tire at around 35 PSI which may sound high for some, but is absurdly low for my 200 pounds of fury. I have generally been running my tires at 40 plus just to keep pinch flats at bay. The softer pressure really made for a smooth ride full of traction. I was really happy with the overall feel of the 2.1 Toro and despite the smallish casing size, found myself floating over obstacles with speed and confidence. It was a joy not to worry about getting a flat.

Dusty test victim:

All was well and good until about the final mile of trail. With a particularly rough section of downhill ahead, I decided to see what this tubeless technology could do. Admittedly, I got a little out of shape in one corner and this poor choice of line really put me hard into the rough stuff. I could feel that familiar rim to tire compression contact with a heavy thud travelling right through the frame. I instinctively waited for the tell tale "hisss" and then rapid loss of air... but of course this time there was none! How exciting, I could actually ride like shit and get away with it. Awesome!

Up the next wash and stopping, I began to hear some air escaping. Looking down, some of the Hutchinson sealant could be seen bubbling past the rim bead. I felt the tire and it was much lower than when we started. Upon closer inspection, the cause became obvious.

Rim deflection evaluation:

I had hammered the bead just by the valve stem. Try as it may, the sealant didn't seem to be bale to compensate for the now abrupt change in rim shape. To be honest, I was surprised the bead was holding at all. I quickly pumped up the air and spun the tire in hopes for a latex barrier to form. The leak slowed a bit, but wasn't stopping... so I sprinted off in front of the group I was with to try and make the car before going dead flat. The strange thing was that by the time I was at the vehicle, the air had indeed stopped leaking out and even though the tire was low... I wasn't done.

Because of my size I couldn't really blame the little 2.1 tire from collapsing under such force. The good news was the tire held and ultimately the sealant did it's job. My new found faith in tubeless technologies had me pursue the idea a bit further and I picked up a slightly different model of Hutchinson tire. It was the one I was most fond of from the show, the Cobra TL 2.25. When I removed the existing Toro tire, I found a little latex sealant creature had already been created. Was a bit troubling that such a large one had been born with just one ride. Guess time will tell how this Hutchinson sealant does long term in regards to fixing holes and staying liquid.

Hey little fellow:

The new tire mounted very easily and I added the rest of the Hutchinson sealant. Same inflation problem, but this time I realized I had no need for a dinky CO2 cartridge as I had the grand daddy of compressed air in my possession from my 4-Wheeling days (man card multiple point addition).

Hell yes:

The bead popped right in place as expected. Held air no problem overnight and was up for a test ride this morning. I set it at 38 PSI and matched the front tire pressure as well. I really like the way this Cobra felt in the dirt. Very smooth, good float and fast rolling. Traction was good, but my guess is sticky mud would foul it pretty quickly. Good thing is I live in a part of AZ where mud rarely exists even when it does happen to rain.

Fancy reptilian sidewall:

Tread pattern:

With any luck there will be a second test ride in Prescott tomorrow. Despite a few missteps at the beginning of this process, I think this whole tubeless thing is going to be sweet. I already appreciate the fact that I have to worry less about pinch flats which lets me concentrate more on riding how I want to.

The now half-tubeless equipped Salsa:

An Experiment With Asphalt

Knowing I had today off, I began to plan what riding accomplishment I might like to try and achieve the night before. I assessed my trail options with the usual local routes. Trail 100 was just ridden last weekend. Perhaps South Mountain or maybe even one of the massive McDowell Loops Micki had shown me last year. I was a bit leery of the afternoon heat and I seem to have a tendency to go far too long in the McDowells, but wanted to get some distance none the less.

Then it struck me... why not give this whole "road riding" thing a try?

I had a route in mind that would start and leave from the door step. The idea of just pedaling right from home intrigued me, so I decided what to take for lunch and what I might also need as far as tools and additional supplies. I didn't want to wear a Camelback, so instead I dug out my ever so trusty Mountainsmith hip bag that I purchased years ago while in Colorado. Breckenridge was a time when I had no use for good hydration and miles upon miles of trail were explored simply with bottle in cage and jacket in bag.

My faithful companion:



I always liked this bag. It has plenty of compartments and cinches down nicely even with a good sized load inside. I used it to carry Luv's bagels and a copy of the local Summit Daily newspaper that was placed in complimentary news stands every morning throughout Breckenridge. I'd take them both home after a long ride and just figure out what might be going on in this small town. Jumping ahead a few years to my college education in Prescott when we were assigned to create a "detail" drawing with the objective to be as accurate as possible. The goal was to observe everything about the subject we chose and try to capture it with just led on paper. I chose this bag, and was pretty happy with the way it turned out.

The artistic effort:



This was to be the route:

Take McDowell east to HWY 87 and up to Shea. I'd then weave through Fountain Hills and back out through the desert past McDowell Mountain Park. Eventually, I'd hit the tiny community of Rio Verde and pedal up "9 Mile Hill" to Alma School. Finally winding my way back towards Scottsdale... eventually following the bike path that starts at Shea until back home. I had no real concept of the mileage or the time it would take. I did however plan ahead and stuff my bag with a 6" Subway turkey sandwich, orange flavored Rockstar and some Cliff Bloks for good measure. Plus Micki had graced me with some new shwag socks from Thule... so I was good to go.

Argyle speed:



Click in one shoe, then the next and I was pedaling away. Strange to leave right from the doorstep. No prep or loading of the car. No mounting the bikes on the rack. Didn't even have to fill my Camelback. The riding was cool with temps around 70. Really nice after all those hot as hell commutes I'd been doing lately.

Things were going well until the long hill on HWY 87 just before Shea. ADOT had decided that this Tuesday morning would be a great day to spray the shoulder with a fresh coat of oil. Unluckily for me, they had literally just gotten started. I got to follow the truck as it spewed the toxic substance on the roadway. I now had a choice... ride in this unknown substance and feel the vaporous spray grace my shins and cover new socks black, or try and "tip toe" along the white line with rushed traffic flying by me at over 50 plus miles per hour.

I hate traffic, but I really liked these socks... so I practiced my North Shore balancing skills along the marker.

I finally passed the offending spewer of a vehicle and maneuvered my way past the sweeper just in front of it. It was a relief to have the shoulder back for my own and to see my blue argyle threads still freshly laundered.

First the fast socks... what's next? :

I must say at this point I was pretty sure that long distance road cycling held little appeal for me. One just spins, or grinds away with not much else to do but pick distant landmarks out and watch them ever so slowly creep towards you. It was pretty boring and by the time I made it to Fountain Hills I wasn't really sure how much interest I had in completing my loop. Combine this with a strong headwind I had been fighting since pedal one. On occasion I figured I must just be having a weak day on the bike, but after checking tree branches and the occasional flag I was sure there was more to it then just being a little tired. I did think ahead and realize once I made it up "9 Mile Hill" I'd have almost all downhill back home with this bugger of a wind at my back. That would be nice.

Rough, cracked asphalt pummeled my 120 PSI Soma Everwear tires over and over again. Wrists started to ache a bit and hands were getting numb. This really wasn't that much fun at all. Then I saw this really cool statue of a horse and decided to stop and snap some pics. After all, I had no clock to watch and maybe this would be a good place to turn around anyway. Might even still have some time to hit some singletrack in the afternoon.

Creative sculpture:



Lot's of time and talent:



Excellent use of cutlery:



I felt a bit revitalized taking a few moments off the saddle and inspecting the craftsmanship of the piece. It was very well done and in my opinion was very true to form as far as the physical shape of a horse was concerned. The arch of the back and shape of the body had no flaws, and I always like looking at "junk" used by such a skilled hand. I was feeling better about this ride and decided to complete the loop regardless of obstacle. After all, the famous fountain was just around the corner and I had to at least get one picture of that for the BLOG.

Hydro-Pressure:



A short while later, I was past the town of Fountain Hills and heading into the desert. It was at this point I realized that unlike mountain biking with generally shorter distances comprised of loops, I was about to embark on a great distance with no real support or way out besides completion.

Now we're talking!

My adventure gene kicked in and I started to pedal towards Rio Verde. It was at this point that I realized something pretty different about road cycling. Unlike when I am pedaling in the dirt, there wasn't much to concentrate on rolling across the tarmac. I didn't have to correct my line or watch for rocks. There was no body movement or cornering technique to concern myself with.

I simply had to pedal.

I have always liked how the trail blanks out my mind through the necessity of focus. If one doesn't concentrate, observe what is coming next and handle it accordingly... they end up on their respective lid. There simply aren't any synapses left to start wondering about money or politics. The escape is in the distraction. The relaxation is found in the concentration of technique.

But on the road I was finding a different meditative proposal. With out any technical aspects to concern myself besides basic balance and spinning, my mind could freely wander. And wander it did. I was creating, calculating, solving and questioning anything that happened to pop up. Memories, songs, visions and sounds were all being hashed out with little else to worry about. It was a truly pleasant experience and with this distraction the miles started to fly by (despite the infernal headwind).

Eventually I made Rio Verde and found a place in the shade to eat my lunch. Before locating the perfect spot however I ran across two massive birds perched on a rather small tree. While I am no ornithologist, it did strike me as a bit odd. Finding these two birds of prey relaxing within such a close proximity to each other. Maybe hawks... or maybe buzzards. I snuck out my camera none the less and snapped a pic for others to analyze. So, "make an assessment".

Glad I am bigger than a mouse:



A few steps closer for a more detailed pic and they were off. Both in opposite directions with almost the exact same angle of attack towards the sky. Maybe I was still in an artsy mood from the steel horse or all of my internal contemplations across the desert, but their actions were really quite striking. I could easily hear their massive wings effortlessly capture the thin air and carry them off across the scrub brush below. I hoped their skilled manipulation of the winds might some how inspire my legs to do the same.

I then found a natural bench under a shade tree. Unpacking my bag I realized right away that I had been very careless loading my lunch and had placed my RockStar above the now flattened and mushy Subway sub. Not very smooth I suppose, but I was hungry and didn't much care. I wondered how many other cyclists might have stopped for a break at this spot before tackling the big hill leading west out of the valley. I pondered as to how many of them might have downed a 16 ounce energy drink before such a climb. I surmised none, but drank it all up regardless in hopes the wonder beverage would stay in my belly until I crested the top.

Lunch stop:



Flat sub:



After the refuel, I checked my computer for distance. 32.55 miles so far. I guessed I was about half way done and figured I felt pretty good for the trip home. I had ridden a part of this Rio Verde hill on my mountain bike years ago with some friends as we tried to escape a summer thunderstorm that had begun to fill the singletrack we were on with rushing water. I recalled the hill itself had many vanishing false summits and was prepared for a long haul on my designed for a 9-mile-commute, retardo-ringed singlespeed of a bicycle. I had heard the hill was also 9 miles long... and that seemed like a long way to go all uphill.

At least the headwind would now be at my side.

That hill is crazy. It's endless with no way to tell which is the top and which is just another step up. It's almost as if you are riding across the circumference of the earth itself. I half expected to eventually make it all the way around and end up back at the bottom. The grade itself wasn't so bad however and I just spun along until at 41.55 miles to the tenth I finally found the true summit.

No exaggeration there... "9 Mile Hill" indeed exactly lived up to it's name.

After that it was a fairly easy trip home. That headwind that was supposed to be a tailwind? Well, it switched direction literally as I started to go back home. I could almost watch the flags swing a perfect 180 degrees. Perhaps the road God's tired of this baggy short wearing, black T-Shirt and hip bag equipped rider rolling across their domain. Who knows... I just know it sucked, or perhaps blew would be a better way to put it. Stupid wind.

I got a bit tired towards the end. I needed more fuel and should have stopped to eat, but just wanted to get home instead. I came pretty close to a good BONK which I haven't had in such a long time... but pushed through a bit slower than before and made it back to the comfort of the couch.

All in all it was a good, long ride... which is what I wanted to do today. My legs are tired, but not exhausted. My shoulders are a bit sore, but not destroyed. I think ultimately my true cycling love will always be the trails, but I at least got a glimpse into why the road appeals so much to some.

I think I'll stick to shorter distances and time on the asphalt in general, but will keep my options open.

This particular loop was 69 miles long... in case you were curious.