Yesterday at work was dead. I made four deliveries, and had to return one of them because the recipients had taken the day off. Total bust. I made about $9.

But we did have some rousing conversations about the crossword puzzle at a table in everyone's favorite office building.


It was a nice day outside, but that just made me wish I was mountain biking. I took some pictures since there was no hurry to get any of those packages out.






I didn't take the last one while I was riding yesterday, but I was trying to make the transition as jarring as possible. Since I stopped shaving my legs after the last race of the year, I've noticed an interesting re-growth pattern. I seem to have back of calf baldness. That means that either my calves are too ripped to fit in my pants, or my pants are too tight. I'm going with the former.

Last night I spent almost an hour and a half grooving to an Elvis song on some weird Wii dance game while my lazy ass friends watched. If you've seen me dance, you can probably imagine how awesome I looked. If you haven't seen me dance, well lets just say I make that pork product look like a cold hot dog.

snowy rolling

I did a couple shorter rides over the weekend. On Friday I sprinted around a little county park by my house that has a few miles of tight singletrack. Nothing special, but it was still fun.


On Saturday I rode in Ohiopyle for almost two hours before the whole Christmas dinner business. The place was empty, but a damn rabbit beat me to first tracks.


I was really surprised that the snow was so ridable. But the day still didn't photograph well.

Winter in Western PA. Greyest thing ever. I was supposed to meet the posse at Boyce Park on Sunday morning, but when I woke up at 8:00 a 70 mile drive seemed like it was way too far.

Then Colleen and I ended up driving to Monrovile anyway. She could buy some new riding shoes and I dragged her smiling face around Harbor Freight Tools for a while. When we got home I ended up riding circles around the miniature park (not the one with singletrack) next to my house in the dark. Shoulda just gone to Boyce in the morning.

When winter finally goes away, I'll be on the mountain for some overnight trips with my bike. I'm still thinking about attempting the Colorado Trail Race. In any case, it seams (pun intended. I'm such a riot.) like time to start getting some bikepacking stuff together.

On Saturday night, I stitched up a prototype saddle bag for my sleeping bag. I used some scrap material from an easy-up to get a feel for how it would hang on my bike.



The first version was pretty close, but there's still lots of room for improvement. I sat down and started sketching out ways to make it better.

Then I realized I'd basically drawn a Carousel Design Works bag. Nuts. But I think I can change and simplify it a little. I'm ordering some good fabric today.

And I'm on board with Ergon for next season. I'm stoked. I've been using GX2s for the past two years, and they rock. Glad to keep using them. I'm pretty excited to try out their the new gloves as well. They should be great if they work as well as the grips.

off season training

I go hard in the off season:

You haven't lived until you've slid down an icy hill in a contractor bag. It's like putting your organs in a soil sifter. It's hard to see in the video, but the ice chunks pounded and shook and mixed up my insides, snow filled my eyes, and at the end of the hill I couldn't breath. So I ran up the hill and did it a few more times. My chest is still bruised.

After that extreme day of sledding, we headed for the Laurel Highlands Trail. I started the hike by falling into an icy puddle and submerging my feet, but after a few miles of walking they either started to dry out or went numb. Whatever the case, I still have all my toes.


On the way back down the mountain, I checked out my on-season co-worker's digs (not to be confused with off season co-workers.)


He's either still living here, or was abducted by migrant trans-gender electricians before he had a chance to pack his underpants.


The chop bus is a nice place to live in the summer by Pyle standards, but in the winter when it's around 5 degrees at night, it couldn't be very pleasant.

Then I captured the Viking Cat and put him in a sweater. He loved it.