Life within the confines of a fishbowl.
Much to my surprise, I’m not alone here.
As it turns out, some people do read this thing, and as such, I need to watch my mouth.
I can’t blindly make fun of someone and not expect to be held accountable. I’ve come to find that the readership is the judge, jury and executioner.
Case in point, on Monday I included an image in which I made tease of an individual’s fashion sense;
Again- photo, pre alteration, shot by Mack Adocious.
As it turns out, the person in question made contact to let me know that from time to time he leaves his big sweater at home and dons a stretchy suit;
So you don’t like my horse sweater, choice in jeans or footwear… would you prefer to see me in a half-unzipped skinsuit?
Photo courtesy Chip Williams.
That’s me getting epic in a golf course sandpit on a steel frame I made myself. I hope my internet credibility is either fully restored or irreparably damaged.
Indeed, upon further inspection, it would appear that Michael not only has a closet full of random pieces of curiously assorted clothing, but it would appear as though he knows his way around a metal shop as well.
So there I go leaping before I look again, and in the process find a fellow out in Chicago who can braze circles around me.
Let that be a lesson to me.
To tip my hat in the general direction of my dear friend 685 and his Pentabike imprint, I will take the opportunity to let any and all who are interested know that he is once again taking pre-orders for his Muststash bar end caps, which for the uninitiated, can be read about here.
The production of these is inconsistent, so if you want to get on the boat, I suggest you reserve your spot now.
In news of standing around, drinking beer and being smug, Mr. Blacksocks and I spent a day dallying around the forest recently taking care of some mudness that has developed in these early Fall deluges.
You know by now that I am a staunch proponent of mountain bikers taking some initiative and doing maintenance of their own trails. Now when I say maintenance, I don’t mean building stunts, jumps, berms, or skinnies. There is a time and a place for that, but as the ground gets soggy, the puddles get deep and a little bit of elbow grease in as far as that’s concerned, goes a long way.
As a matter of fact I ran into an old friend of mine while I was out and in response to me inviting him to help out some time he said “I can think of a lot worse things to do than hang out in the woods and drink beer.”
My thoughts exactly.
Anyway, for your edification, I’ve included a couple of before and after shots to prove that if someone as purely inept as myself can do trail work, then for upstanding and physically superior individuals like yourselves, it should be nothing but a thing.
Now I’m not going to get all preachy here, but I will say that trails are a resource, and in light of some recent occurrences here in my own backyard, a resource that we as mountain bikers sometimes have a tenuous grasp on.
Just like anything you love, you have to take care of them.
This isn’t to say that showing initiative will guarantee us further land access, or that it will even stabilize that which have now, but what it does guarantee is that the trails that we ride- our trails, will at least maintain some semblance of physical health in the mean time, and that, I am perfectly happy to be held accountable for.
I still think wearing your sisters pants is a bit funny regardless of how well you ride any bike half naked.
I do not want to sound lame or anything, but isn’t riding muddy and puddley tracks what mountainbiking is all about?
Or is that something reserved for cyclocross, along with grandpa’ sweaters and half-open body suits?
Amen to the trail maintenance. No surer way to lose access than to abuse it.
Also thanks for the Pentabike update; I was left standing on the shore last time; I’m not mising that boat again! cheers!
@CyclingBxl- To a certain extent, yes, but you see, when puddles occur, they get deeper and wider as the winter goes on, and then when that mud dries, the trail ends up being fucked. Rest assured, there is plenty of mud to go around. I’m just taking care of the particularly problematic spots.
And to clarify, both have just a little bit to do with your geographic location.
Wait, dude sent a photo of him racing in FUCKING KNEE SOCKS as proof of his ‘cross cred?
I’m going with “irreparably damaged.”
I remember a total spaz in junior high that used to wear his sister’s jeans, his name was you.
Jesus Stevil, you’re going soft. Soon your blog will be reduced to the bleeding heart and occasionally self-promotional tripe mine has been from the start. 😉
Adam Myerson says, ‘I’m going with “irreparably damaged.”‘
Well, I guess that explains why you never replied to my email about your training camp.
from where I sit in PDX, getting called out for wearing girlpants and a grandpa sweater is something you just accept and then move on.
If you don’t wanna get called out for the above combo, then don’t wear girlpants and a grandpa sweater, natch!
He looks metrosexual in both shots.
It takes a big man to admit he is wrong. I respect that. Well played.
I knew the socks would come up. He obviously hates the sport with such an unruly sock length.
Is it just me or are the hipsters looking more and more like Napolean Dynamite these days?
I know Mr. Catano well… Yes, He wears Grampa Sweaters, Girl Pants and knee socks with unzipped skin suits, none of which I’d ever do…. but, I don’t give a shit, I’ll vouch for the fact He’s a damn nice Man who can build the crap out of a beautiful Bike
Knee high socks would never fly in Boulder.
I got somethin for all you purse swingin lip flappers. GO RIDE YOUR BIKE and stop talkin smack about the cross dressing ugly chick.
I am stuck between shouting cat fight or rock your socks. Dude rides a bike, could probably kick my ass on a bike, and sure as shit could weld me into a cage. Be your own thing and do it well. Silly hat off to you Mr. Catano. Big hand up to you Stevil for being Stevil.
Catano Lever is on the bleeding edge of fashion both fore, and aft, given the venue. I quaff props in his general direction for all of it.
Knee socks keep your legs warm and they’re easily pushed down for venting if you get too warm.
Like arm warmers, but for your legs.
Knee high socks fly in Boulder at a smug elevation. Sonya can wear them and get away with it.
He could certainly learn a lesson or two regarding sock selection from the Colonel. However, if you had’nt singled him out for ridicule, I would never have viewed his site, which I thought was pretty cool.
sonya? yeah, she can get away with anything. look at her.