MTB TIki Party

Tonight was a night to be outside before the heat of June July and August takes over.

I just love to be outside at night after doing a BBQ, soaking in the evening air and the light of the tiki torches against the pitch dark sky.


Mosquitoes be darned! McGolf Dog and I are out with the MTBs after todays technical ride. He's got fur, I have eco-friendly bug spray—It almost works.

Rocket Ship of the Day

Heard the wind was up, and decided a sail would be good for the soul, despite the fact that I really wasn't feeling or breathing that great. A bout of 9/11 hyperreactive airways and chest tightness that seems to come on when I mow the grass. Claritin or no claritin. Neck was also a mess, causing a bicep spasm, and some shoulder back pain, when I move my arm up close to my body, but not so bad that I couldn't sail. save the advil for tomorrow, if necessary.

Maybe the pull of the boom will be like traction -- sometimes it works that way. And maybe a good dose of sea air would clear out the lungs? A good dose of sea air sounds perfect to me anyway, right now. This North Shore air is getting heavy. Sounds like a plan. I took a puff of the asthma inhaler and crossed my fingers.
Leonardo, Dog of Sand, Wind and Fetch
The bikes stayed home, despite the perfect cool riding temps. Golf clubs came along for the ride; for the opportunity for entanglement (as multi-sports equipment has a tendency to do when in the presence of other sports paraphernalia) and as total no-wind insurance. I could practice the sand wedge if all else failed, or bail to a range if my herniated neck would allow.

Not much chance of that today, though, I really wanted to ride the like-"new" Randy French course board Lenny had given me a month or so ago, and today looked like the perfect breeze for it. The old Gaastra Manic 6.1 usually gets going in the lightest breeze, given some extra floatation under it, and right here we have, extra bouyancy, and rails designed to plane in a gnat fart.

So, time to roll out the 6.1 for the first time in a long time ... "Uh oh" what have we here? No sail mast tip retainer, top-cap pin or whatever it's called, and to make it worse, a worn-through busted top-cap strip.

No worries there's still one of two straps left on one side, and it looks sturdy enough to hold. But will it have balanced torque on the top cap up there, or will it pull the thing out to one side? We'll see I guess.

[Good thing I'm not at the ocean, as the risk of equipment failure would be too great. The day would be shot]

So here's the NINETWO-W. This was my rocket ship for today. It's a Randy French (280 cm 138 Liter version).

Time to thank Lenny Da Squid who passed this ride my way, The Squid; Runner, windsurfer, vintage Chevy Suburban restorer, and, ... generous board donor.

and thanks too, to Drysuit2 (see blog list on the right) for passing or selling (he could't remember) it to Lenny.

Drysuit2: All-seas, all-weather sailor, board nose smasher, fin-box buster and epoxy and fiberglass repair artist. Generous board donor.

The Randy French Ninetwo-W came with a rep for being skittery and difficult to control. Lenny rode it once or twice and pronounced it more board than he needed, perhaps he could hold a picnic on it.

Frank said it was kinda heavy going on the legs and a pain in the calves, but a very quick planer.

Great day for seeing a bunch of the crew; Bellmore Phil, Mike Burns, Frank, Ira, Zev, Domer, Eileen, Joe Rocco, Arty and Marty and Leonardo.

I'm just about to launch when I notice I have no uphaul. I haven't had one on this boom in years, having only sailed it on a sinker or in waterstartable conditions. Well, this is on the light side, so I return to the van, and pry an uphaul off my high-wind boom, and strap it around the mast above the boom. As that's the only place, it seems available. Huh? Don't they put holes in these booms anymore for uphauls?

And off we go. Point upwind for a schlog to the windline, and ...ignition, off into the wide blue yonder.

Imagine my surprise, then to discover that the board doesn't jerk onto a plane like a raging bull stuck with a matador's sword, but levitates itself with a buttery whoosh -- you're just gone with the wind. Gone.

Point it down a swell and it's even quicker to fly. And that was the sensation ... flying. Maybe the light 6.1 sail helped keep the board out of the water, and the fully rear mast track position (as far as the chinook two-bolt base was willing to go in) worked great for me with that sail.

I pondered getting some air of some of the swell out there off a few choice ramps, would have been very easy to go up.

But not sure whether the board was designed to be airborne, given how light it is for its size. Landing might not be quite as easy either, or necessarily in one piece. Generally course racers are not built to be bump and jump boards. Maybe next time?

I told Frank I was a little concerned I might not be "man enough" for such a big fast board, and I would probably crap myself in the jibes, but he said, not to worry, it jibes very well.

Was he ever right. the thing was smooth in the jibes — I like — and any flub was pilot error.

So round and round we went. Wow, this was easy sailing, front hand drag, back hand drag. The board behaves pretty nicely, but, this is not exactly a powered up test, just a cruise.

After a lull the bay flattened off a bit, boat cross chop died down, and the wind picked up. Now suddenly we were motoring. Wow! what a beast. This thing really does light up! pick a swell, prepare to jibe, into the turn, step...trip...aaagh!!!

One of my clumsy feet tripped right over a foot strap and I was airborne. The jibe became a crash scene, and, since we're on water, no big deal. Not usually, as the landing is soft.

But something's not looking right with the sail. "Houston we have a problem." The sail is either broken at the top, or somewhere else. Not something water-fixable without half an hour of drifting. ...

Now what?

With this floatation, uphauling shouldn't be a problem, except the mangled sail is clew-first wrong side. The first attempt was predictably dunk-worthy, but it succeeded in properly positioning the clew for a more successful second attempt.

The schlog back was unremarkable. The sail had accordioned down the mast about a yard, but even in the building wind it wasn't unmanageable. In fact it spilled wind and I could hook in. I could almost plane, but it didn't seem worth the risk of having to uphaul the bagged out thing again, so I just schlogged it back, very grateful that I'd noticed the missing uphaul and took the time to attach one, "just in case." Because this right here, was just one of those cases.

(darn, forgot to practice sand wedge!)

Sweet ride despite the sail hi-jinks. Thanks guys.

Two-Wheel Hooked

So much for Marg and Robby not being ready for trail.
we ride
It seems the two-wheel hook got in deep yesterday. Robby who used to be trail-o-phobic and struggle up hills, suddenly turned overnight into a bike addict, and an uber-speed-clyde to boot.

Talk about turning the tables; he used my line, "It's a beautiful day, I don't want to just sit around and let it go to waste."
My words, how could I deny?

Much as my arse was toast after yesterday, I was not going to let a former Warcraft Mousepotato Tribemember fall back into the cult of the mouseclick.

OK You got a deal.

After some haggling about where, and time remaining, we settled on a quickie at Stillwell. It was 3 pm already, and we had to load/unload fast. So nothing major just 3 laps of the beginners' trail to reintroduce the gang to dirt, sand, singletrack and roots.

Rob and Gordo, the young rabbits (15 & 12) took off at every opportunity to HAMMER on the straightaways. No longer ride leader, I discovered the meaning of "eat my dust," of which Rob was leaving a fine cloud. Animal!

By the time it was time to go Rob said he was ready for more, he was "just warmed up."

We hemmed and hawed collectively about finishing up with some of my favorite blue trail sections, and the opportunity would have to wait another week. Pray for good weather.

Oh, well. Gonna have to teach these guys to get moving a little earlier on a Sunday, especially since dinner would have to be whatever I could grill on the Weber charcoal grill before 7pm. Yep, I'm still in my bikeshorts. Chef didn't get a chance to change!

But who cares? looks like we have a new teenage MTBer born today and another one on the way.

Which Sport Day?

It didn't feel like a windsurf day, it didn't feel like a regular surf day, it almost felt like a golf day, but something more invigorating was calling. The need to bike was in full effect again.

A solo road ride was an option, I asked Marg if she was up for a ride, maybe Stillwell Woods for some MTB riding, or the Bethpage bike path from Massapequa and back?

She doesn't feel safe on the road anymore, and, since it had been a while, was not quite physically or mentally ready for singletrack, but the said the bikepath sounded good.



ALL-AMERICAN NOSH
I must have mentioned something about All-American Drive-in afterward (a rare exception treat for calorie counters) after, and lured by the promise of tasty nosh, two Warcraft Mousepotato Tribe founding members, decided it was time for their first ride in a year or more.

Above is one of the Warcraft tribe who smelled burgers several hours before dinner, and another member of the gang who had to stay home on security duty. Let's just say his patience was rewarded handsomely when we got home, and he is highly partial to All-American once in a while, like the rest of boys.

Marg stuck with the vegetarian options. After all they do have the best shakes and fries in about 50 miles.

We only rode about 14 of that 50, but a finer day for riding would be harder to find. A better day for a family ride impossible.

For reasons I won't get into here, I've been off the trail for a year or two, but, once we got to the turnaround in Bethpage, neither Gordo nor I could resist the singletrack.

It's a favorite spot. Some don't like it's randomness, me I love the multiple trail options that beg creativity — and the occasional picnic, like this one from back a while.



How good was that? Aced the tricky climb sections, and swooped the trail which was in top shape. Just a mile maybe, but a great way to feel the trail again. I'll be back for some summer evening rides I think.

(Ride note: Poison Ivy in full foliage. Pretty rampant so watch out if you're thinking of crashing.)

Down To the Water (in praise of Guinness and a fine set of wheels)

Refueling is essential after a decent ride. Especially when it encompasses some of the finest pieces of road, and the vistas they have to offer on Long Island's North Shore.
Not all refueling beverages, however, are created equal.

Since this ride had 947 ft of elevation gain, and supposedly 1,227 calories expended, I figured I'd earned ....

This "almost-pint" of Guinness in the foreground, however, found AAAAAAAAADY its way to the table during the post-ride barbecue. The bike, I sense however, was perhaps just hanging out hoping I'd take a toothbrush, cleaning rags and TLC to its sprockets and brake calipers, or maybe feed it a burger with homemade barbecue sauce. Or chain lube?

Unfortunately, all the rather special charcoal grilled BBQ burgers were intercepted by teenage sons and our black furry guardian. (see "Walking the Dog," at right)

Nothing like a ride to Sand's Point to Clear the mind and spark the legs. The water was calm, so was the wind, and so was the cycling. In non-low-res-cellie-picture real life you can see much futher and more clearly. all the way to Manhattan, or New Rochelle, Coop City the Bronx, depending which way you are looking.

Offshore, I saw a familiar white hull with portholes a cuddy and 2 crew. Looked like blogger Drysuit2's yacht "Segue" sailing off Co-Op City/The Bronx/Pelham

Either way, The Blue Beast had its way for 16.6 enjoyable miles...with a few stops for photos. It's one of those bikes that you just get on and it feels right immediately. (Well, I guess it should, since I built it up — over the course of a long winter — from parts gathered during a year of extreme patience-testing.) DT Swiss 1.1 rims stuffed with Serfas Seca RS, even at 130 PSI is a fine tasting ride. A little Aztec vibe wrap on the handlebars and a Koobi saddle, add plush. Our roads are not all kind to the tuckus around here, feeling more like cobblestones in places.


Riding to build up base miles for longer club rides and a charity ride, and of course, fun and enjoyment. Coming off injured reserve, this is a long process, with its advances and setbacks.

Best approach I guess — just to enjoy the process. Discoveries the hard way in the past have taught me that injuries can't be hurried.

If you get down to the PointHoffstot/Seacoast lane is a nice detour. There are several glimpses of the Sound and Pelham, and New Rochelle, NY., shores on the other side. And of course, some spectacular waterfront houses to admire.

As for the beer in the distinctive glass, reportedly (that is according to answers.com) some studies claim that Guinness can be beneficial to the heart. "Researchers found that antioxidant compounds in Guinness, similar to those found in certain fruits and vegetables, are responsible for health benefits because they slow down the deposit of harmful cholesterol on the artery walls," which is something I could use.

In moderation, of course.

[url]http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/15006416[/url]

[url]http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/3266819.stm[/url]

Not very serious disclaimer: I'm an editor, and Diageo is sometimes an advertiser in the publication I work for, but I formed a on-and-off relationship with draught Guinness 22 years ago, at college in London.

Ride the beast

Arrrgh, was hoping to ride The Blue Beast today.

But a sore throat is trying to get me.
Reaching for the Zicam throat spray ... friend of the cyclist.

Need to get miles up for Wounded Warrior Project "Ride To Heal" at Bald Hill next week. I signed up, even though this one will be a kick in the a$$ distance wise.

My ride receipt and package has not arrived from active.com. I'm beginning to wonder what's taking so long.

OK Squid, it Was "The Right Call"

But you know, I think Stehli would have been just as good ;-)

Sleeping-in, and all that good, warm cafe con leche drinking stuff, has it rewards when you don't spend the whole day chasing wind. Lenny said as much. And he was right. Once the wind is up, and I'm packed and ready, I have a hard time not dashing out there. But we got the call chain going, with a little help from the Yahoo Group, and soon we were Lenny, Chuck, McPhilly, and Bayville Joe Elvis.



The North Shore meters were showing good wind, and sites to the North and West were showing some serious WNW and NW readings. A nice scenic drive to sail some epic wind, in 75 degrees, well at least for a while.



With WNW big wind, the temperature is sure to drop. The 3/3mm fullsuit and hooded Ti vest that seemed too hot, to start out with, were much appreciated in the May coldness of Long Island Sound, and the brisk blasting westerly blow. Chilly goodness from Canada or the plains?



I don't really know, but either way, "CIB" Center Island Beach (a.k.a. Center For Imbecilic Boardsailors) had a sweet little swell running, and some super steep ramps for Port-side jumping. At the top, there's 'Domer' getting some of that air time.

And right here, he's slipping into a seemingly weightless jibe, with the board's rails centimeters above the chop, with the tail biting ready to turn a tight one.

Some favorite friends from the golf course...


A beautiful evening ride home. What more could you ask.



The post-session brewtivities were just the ticket, with recovery carbohydrate brews (I understand hops also have some proteins) tasting better than even the brewer could have imagined.

Either way, Lenny gets the "podium" pose by his severely modded 80s Suburban, 'cos he got the call right. No doubt about it.

And I almost forgot to add, he ripped it up for a solid 45 minutes before heading in. With the type of surgery he's had, he did well not to overdo it. Good timing, too, the wind went bananas shortly after and a 4.7 started to feel like a spinnaker in a gale.

This toasted lager is for you, me old codger.

And one last scene from the ride home ... no, we're not in Nantucket, but this old ship once was.

Bearable Lightness of Being

Milan Kundera wrote a book published in 1984, called The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

But sometimes lightness is to be savored on the journey.

This moment from a brisk April 2007 day is one of my favorites caught on film, and it captures a moment where some of a different kind of "lightness" I was seeking, lifted the burdens of injuries, bronchitis and sinus infections, and too much of a long winter spent indoors.

The fading sunlight illuminates the spray of the carved jibe on a small peaking swell.

When you start the turn, drive the rail of the board into the welcoming face of a "wave" or steep swell, or whatever slope you have beneath you, it's all there to be sensed perfectly —translated from the board through your feet, and in the sounds of the water sluicing and billowing behind — and even in all that wind, and you become lightness in that spray.

I think I'd been sailing with George and Jill Marr that day. This was the first time on the water in 6 months, so it was a very welcome return, even if it proved to be a brief return.

OK, so maybe looking at it as a purist, maybe the knees weren't bent enough, and the PFD is fugly, but that's because I was still in recovery from the resipratory illness, but it all felt pretty good first time out there that day.

Photo -- tbd... Pete Roesch, Steve Domjan, Jeff Tanenbaum, someone else?

You are at the beginning

A passing glimpse of what we — surfers, walkers, outdoors-lovers — see when we're out there on those uncrowded, tranquil days ...

It's often what we barely notice in passing, but often savor when the day's riding is done, or just beginning.

Riding, Surfing, Mountain Biking, Road Biking, Windsurfing, Hiking, Dog Walking — and even, dare I say it, golf — there are a multitude of ways to get out there, become part of the flow, or simply feel the flow of the world outside...inside.

This "passing glance" of an photo that I took sometime before or after an "off-season" spring or fall surf session reminds me a little of what draws us out there.

Beach, just a few souls out there on the sand, taking it all in. All the while the urban sprawl of the Rockaways, Brooklyn and New York City is in the deep distance.

In real life, on this part of Long Beach, you barely see the tall buildings of the Rockaways on the horizon, you barely notice them in the haze. From the passerby's point of view, it might as well all be ocean beyond, and a vastness in your spirit.

The digital camera just happens to pick it those background details. ... the rest is out there for us.