Before I get to what I mean by that, I would like to note an observation that The Skipper has made on multiple occasions concerning Doc Brown’s Delorean. According to ‘Back To The Future’, the car had to be traveling at 88 miles per hour in order to make the leap of space and time, but the state mandated top speed of the car was only 85.
And there is today’s fun fact.
Anyhow, as I was saying, I’m putting a bulk of this post together early on account of because there is a bicycle race coming though my burgh on Tuesday, and I expect myself to be somewhere nearby with a case of beer under my arm. After that, I will then be traveling Northward to see Red Fang playing their particular brand of guitar driven musical stylings for the pleasure of my ears, and indirectly, my liver. With all of this action, I will most likely have very little time to construct a post, therefore I am cracking the whip on my crystal ball and gettin’ ‘er done ahead of time.
With this temporary skill of soothsayerness, I can tell you one thing for sure; the pain in my body will still be present. You see, this past Saturday, my better-smelling half and I opted not for a ride but rather, a hike. This was the first time outside of any backpacking adventure I’ve ever undertaken that a hike actually sounded like a good idea. To me walking generally is seen as a drag, but for some reason on this day in particular it seemed preferable, so we loaded up out packs with food stuffs and water, and got out of dodge.
The trail in question is actually the first I ever rode in the county back when I was a young buck in my early 20s. It’s long, treacherous and at this point in the year, absolutely covered with Poison Oak.
For those of you who might recall, this is the same trail I found myself stranded on for a 15 hour stretch on the coldest night of the year, about seven years ago after the battery on my light died prematurely. This is also the same trail that was made impassable a few years back due to a huge mud slide that took out about 30 feet of trail. As we made it to the gorge and began considering turning back, my partner in crime noted that someone had rigged a series of ropes up and over the obstruction, which we scampered up, post haste;
And then nearly avoided falling ass over tea kettle down the other side;
Long story short, we made our way through the entire network and about six hours later we came limping back out of the woods to collect our bikes and ride home.
At about five and a half hours in, my left knee, right hip and both ankles all simultaneously concluded that walking is far more difficult that riding a bike.
Now that I’ve traversed the network, you can bet I will return with a bike and assuming that I don’t die in the interim, a full report will be forthcoming.
Funny thing is that in comparison to The Great Divide Race, my adventure and resulting body aches are no greater than an afternoon in a hammock;
In other totally unrelated news of the Googles, sometime in the not so early hours of Monday morning I came across this article from the L.A. Times, which I promptly sent to Prolly, but being the super computer for such things that he is, it was already old news to him even before my first sip of coffee.
Photo credit, Irfan Khan, Los Angeles Times
Such is the life of a lazy layabout like myself.
Last week one of my esteemed advertisers, Wakeman gave me a formal introduction to the head cheese at TRP, which resulted in a box of awesomeness dropped upon my doorstep;
Enclosed was a set of EuroX Magnesium(s) as well as the CR950s. I have yet to install the latter on a bike, but the former went on with quickness, and for your edification, I will now offers some thoughts thus far;
At one point Mike Ferrintino wrote that adjusting cantilever brakes offers definitive proof that Satan himself does in fact exist. At almost no point in my entire existence have I had a pleasurable experience installing or adjusting cantis, and the installation of the TRP brakes was no different. I wrestled, and swore, and dropped tools multiple times. However that being said, once I had them installed, and the final tweaking was done, I toasted myself for a job well done. As anyone who knows me can attest to, I am a life long supporter of the Paul Components canti brakes for their design, adjustability and peerless performance, but as with any marriage, sometimes the eyes can wander, and when mine did, they went straight to the TRPs.
Aesthetically they have no match. Just looking at them will cause one to drool. As my initial outing can attest to, there was no chatter, no squealing and once the pads broke in, they preformed brilliantly. One aspect that gives me pause is the rear brake’s wide profile;
I would assume that on a smaller frame they might catch on the rider’s heels, and certainly at minute 49 of a 60 minute race I am no picture of grace, so I can’t say whether that would cause me issues, but at this stage in the game, I am strongly enamored and look forward to a long and passion filled relationship.
In conclusion I will offer a breakdown.
Beautiful to look at, touch and use.
Gives Europhiles a sensation in their pants.
Micro adjustment on the straddle cable.
Once the installation is complete, you don’t have to fuss with them again.
If your bike is blue and yellow, the addition of these will make it look like a Mondrian painting.
Extraordinarily difficult to install if you don’t have four hands.
Makes the rest of your bike look crappy by comparison.
I thank the good people at TRP for their generosity, and hope that this review makes a billion dollars for them.
Eventually, when my ship comes in (which at this point should be any day now) and I can afford a Crossberg, I suspect them brakes will make a mighty attractive addition;
It just occurred to me that my second point in the cons seemingly would describe the Ritte bikes. This is not the case. For those of you who know your art history, Mondrian used primary colors, which I do not particularly care for. Obviously the Ritte bikes do not. Thank you for letting me clear that up.
And as long as we’re on the topic of things Ritte related (Rittelated?), Lanolin sent me an image of a little goodie for my bike that will make it extra special;
It might not get me atop any podiums, but it will certainly make it appear as though I should be.
In other news, Mark from I Bike MPLS sent me a shot that kinda tends to be on the side of heart warming;
“Caught this photo of you this weekend.”
There is alot in this world that I am unsure of, but one things that I’m pretty confident about is that bad boy can easily do 88 miles per hour.
It’s Wednesday. Keep doing what you do, and I’ll be sure to do the same.