Fond memories of Fondos, and enough daylight to make green things from the clear blue sky. Today its 21 degrees, which means something like -5 c, and it's getting more abstract to recall the days when cold was how you felt at times, or something you caught, rather than a constant, like gravity, and pollution. Today I received a recall notice from my local shop for one of my bikes, where apparently the manufacturer made a part that can fail, and separate steering in the head tube from the fork and wheel, which as I consider this discord, am inclined to think is rather dangerous.  The thing with voluntary recalls, is that every manufacturer may have some, and those that are around long enough to have several are likely the responsible ones who actually take care of their constituents, to fix them. One of my rides has the venerable Future Shock, which, being a bit more than a gimmick, I happen to like, but for a few reasons I will explain later.  The Future Shock has a top collar which holds the actual steerer to the top of the Cartridge, or as was explained to me by my shop tech, "The photo on the recall poster makes plain the manner in which the collar cinches the steerer around the Future Shock cartridge (removed in the photo). The two small allen bolts on either side function to preload the headset bearings after the cartridge is cinched into place. If this collar were to crack through, it would lose cinching tension between the steerer and the cartridge to which the stem is clamped, resulting in the handlebars being able to turn independently of the fork."  The Cartridge, which allows the rider to sustain a bit less of the bumpy stuff, may make loose, and one would lose steering.  
Let's think about that.  In a car, if your power steering goes out, or the car kills so that the power steering fails, whilst making a maneuver, it's damn tough to make a counter maneuver, or finish parking.  But if you are sailing through a switchback and the same happens, then you will actually careen off the cliff, and hopefully land in a lovely lemon grove (safely). If you are in a car and the steering wheel falls off in your hand, and you are left with no steering, one could only hope it would occur whilst parked in the driveway.
My bike is rather important to me, and it's key that the things we hold to be self evident, like the handlebar remaining attached to the wheel via the fork steerer are knowable quantities.  Much like the weather in winter, wherein we expect shit and mostly get shit,... So when anything less than shit happens, we are delighted.  Ipso facto, when we expect verdant pastures, and we are caught in a hail storm, or twister, we are ill-prepared.  Fortunately, we have forecasting.  We can predict the shit-days, and stay inside, and plan for the rest. We cannot plan for catastrophe in general.  In Chicago in the winter, when it's 42 degrees in January, we relish in it. This is because come February, 42 will seem like a day in June, and we may go without a jacket, or wear shorts.  If One lives in Minneapolis, then the effect is more noticeable. In December if it is 32 degrees whatsoever, then you may see kids playing outside in t-shirts, and if it's sunny, perhaps in shorts.
Predictably so, the weather, like catastrophe will surprise us now and again.  
​I have more than one bike, and as I'm fond of reciting, "If you are lucky enough to have a bicycle, then you are lucky enough". Because I have more than a few bikes, I consider myself very fortunate, and so asked the local dealer (who is awesome by the way), for some more insight on the recall, to lend perspective.  We can assume that the part that holds these two systems together, is rather important by the aforementioned scenarios. We can predict that this little part will be swapped out in the near term, and that everything will be back in order.  In the winter, with more than one bicycle to ride, this is really not a bother as much as it is an opportunity for dealers to reacquaint themselves with their clientele, and perhaps get an accessory sale or two.  I personally enjoy the dialog, and kicking some new tires.  But... If this were my car, rather than my bike and they told me that I should not drive it for fear of careening off a cliff into a canyon to my death, but, that they don't have the parts to fix it yet... I may be angry.  Actually, I'd definitely grow angry. I'd be inconvenienced true -- but I'd also be late for work more often, (if i drove to work), or I'd simply not be able to get there, and I'd perhaps miss many other opportunities, such as to pick up children from school, get the groceries, and cetera.  So The notice came across my desk today, and I checked on the status.  "We should expect a fix in a few weeks", so I hope you hadn't planned to be someplace warm riding that (your only) bike.  I hope you don't have a vacation planned or a bike-packing adventure, and so if you do, then please cancel that and or borrow something, or buy a new one, which does not have a Specialized Future Shock. 

As with unpredictable weather events, May we all hope that they are pleasant freezing days in the midst of an otherwise unbearable midwest winter.  Let's also hope that when your bike breaks to no fault of your own that you have an awesome spare to ride, or that it's too snowy to ride and you'll just have to ski.  But for those other people who have committed a chunk of money for a great ride, let's hope that when it breaks to no fault of your own, that it's fixed quickly and for free.  For Specialized, this recall is not their first, and they will sustain it, but on a tech piece of kit that split the industry, like a President did a country; This bike divided the purist like friction shifting to index, Tubulars to Clinchers, Tubes or Tubeless, Electric shifting vs Mech.
We were already divided, and those who swore that, "that shit will fail" -- Well it may have, but it's in the works... as it were.  My SWorks Diverge, is a rather niche bike, with a rather Niche following, and it rides well, and weather has not taken any toll on it like nay-sayers have deprecated. I think that we come back to an "O-ring" moment.  the time when someone finds out that a bad bolt or cable, or even a bad Flux Capacitor, can mean the difference between a beautiful mission, and a calamity.  So, it merits some discussion about the Part in question, and where it comes from. This Part "May be susceptible to stress corrosion cracking which may result in a sudden loss of steering control. Remedy: Stop using the affected bicycles immediately".  I should also mention that this quote is not taken out of context.  The part is a simple enough one to fix, and one that can simply be replaced.  Provenance of the part is without question, the main Question. China is vast, and we all know that the first prototype is alway perfect, but the production run, is where the corners are cut. When we Spec someone in elsewhere to make something for us, whether it be a PB&J, or a Jet engine, we have a decent amount of faith that they will do it right.  That they will do us right, and make the part properly, and even come back to us and say, "Um, hey... Um we should also consider heat treating this, or maybe switch to the Cold forge guy for this one, or Maybe use the the other bid, because it's important, this part".
 So we get the sandwich, and it's not as we may have made it ourself.  I spread each slice of bread to the very beeding edge of the crusts, and cover in a thick enough layer to saturate, but not so thick that any one element steals from another.  I give a shit about my sandwiches, So when someone hands us a shoddily  crafted PB&J, and we like them, we'll accept it.  We may in fact eat it with relish and not complain, because after all, they made it for you. You didn't lift a finger, so enjoy it.  Shit Sandwich.
​
However when, it is inedible, what do you do? Tell them? Complain that the bread is dry, moldy, or the Jam is rank?  Nah! 
I have served as an expert witness in more than a few Bicycle Litigations and the blame never seems to matter when someone has an axe to grind.  Exhibit A: Someone gets stoned, and goes for a ride outside of their comfort zone, and pulls only their front brake, because they have a Boloney sandwich in their right hand, and the brakes, being properly adjusted Mid 90's V-Brakes get the best of them. They fly over the handlebar.  Well, sigh! the manufacturer is not necessarily to blame.  I wish my bike had a lower standover, and that the drop and top tube were a bit shorter, but I am not going to litigate, because I have nothing better to do, and my life is hollow.  
I hope that Specialized realizes that if they did cut a corner on a part, or if their sub-supplier did; That they should hope that nobody finds that out. Because we here in the US are a litigious bunch, and people are always blaming others for shit that goes wrong in their own lives. 
I hope that the new part comes in soon, and that this fixes the CPSC acknowledged issue, and that the bike remains enjoyable.  I also hope that as we increasingly rely upon others for parts,  (and for sandwiches) -- that they do the right thing and build them well.
I hope that those who have to make a choice about their next ride based upon the following statement,  "Stop using the affected bicycles immediately", That their faith in off-shore QC doesn't drive them to ONLY buy Swiss, and Homegrown stuff.  But if, you find at times that you are losing your faith in larger brands because they sometimes cut corners, and you need that bike right now, and not in a few weeks when the part comes into stock -- Then you should know that if you have to cut corners hopefully you will be cutting the crusts off, or some mold before you serve your next shit sandwich. Please try to remember the maxim, "if you are lucky enough to have a bicycle, then you are lucky enough". And... If you are lucky enough to have more than one, and your $9K. S-Works doesn't work this week, or next -- then, well yes, you are a dick to complain whatsoever.

Not much chance, 
completely cut loose from purpose,
he was a young man riding a bus
on the way to somewhere
and it began to snow
and the bus stopped at a little diner
in the hills and the passengers entered.
he sat at the counter with the others,
he ordered and the food arrived.
the meal was particularly good
and the coffee.

the waitress was unlike the women he had known.
she was unaffected, 
there was a natural humor which came from her.
the fry cook said crazy things.
the dishwasher in back laughed a good clean pleasant laugh.
the young man watched the snow through the windows.
he wanted to stay in that cafe forever.
the curious feeling swam through him
that everything was beautiful there,
that it would always stay beautiful there.
then the bus driver told the passengers
that it was time to board.
the young man thought, I'll just sit here, 
I'll just stay here.
but then he rose and followed
the others into the bus.
he found his seat and looked at the cafe through the bus window.
then the bus moved off, down a curve,
downward, out of the hills.
the young man looked straight forward.
he heard the other passengers speaking of other things,
or they were reading
or attempting to sleep.
they had not noticed the magic.
the young man put his head to one side,
closed his eyes,
pretended to sleep.
there was nothing else to do-
just to listen to the sound of the engine,
the sound of the tires in the snow.

To Hear this told by Tom Waites, Please search the web, or select this link.

Is it optimism which consumes you, and convinces you to go?, Perhaps like the pressure of another tequila shot at 4 AM?, was this a good idea?, or are you consumed with the enviable idiocy of not giving a fuck?  For me, the best thing about a ride, rain or shine, is the 'setting out' with a sense of adventure, -- and then perhaps not the numbness which soon beset in the hands --The Best feature of a great ride is the tuning out of all things which were important, but not essential up to that point. These remain closed behind the door for the next few hours, while you practice deep breathing, and snot regulation.
In the first 10-15 minutes of a brisk ride at -5 degrees on any grey morning in the city, one begins to clear the passages as it goes; And god-willing, also clears the shoulder and nape of the neck when one expectorates.
Clear optimism precedes the subsequent compartmentalization of all sorts of unimportant shit being closed behind a wall in your mind until your ride ends. 
For me, a Good Book can be the road atlas of any ride; and whether it's a podcast, a classic novel, or a zombie apocalypse, guiding my next ride, an audio book, works in complete asynchrony with the world whizzing past. I tune out many formerly important contemplations the very moment I check my tire pressure, and press play. The most important things as I depart, immediately become comfortable clothing, hydration, and calories.  Nothing else seems to be quite as critical. Oh... and the occasional Audio-Book on my cheap Earbuds. In fact, because I am generally unplugged from every other device for each ride, I don't find time to retrace the shading on someone's upper lip on a mystical Strava Illustration.  I do not consult my Garmin to be sure to log my route, wattage, and Heart Rate.  I simply peel away for a ride.  
Where are we off to today?  A country road that Google Maps has not yet scanned?, A back alley with a sweet jump off a loading ramp? If the day-in and day-out doesn't ignite your passions, then may i suggest a free ride on your stoner bike for city sojourns and a coffee.  Perhaps a Gravel or CX bike to shred through a park or pathway will trace your smile.  If you roll-up to an oddity beside the path; It's perhaps not safe, but nonetheless advisable that you have a closer look.
Last week in a remote area of Michigan, I was caught out in freezing rain and sleet as the temps plummeted from 5 to -3 degrees. When your gloves soak through, and the racing stripe up your chamois wears like a soggy diaper, then it becomes only a bit less fun.  Perhaps it's best to not get lost at this point, but you will survive. Peeling away from the road for a moment, I'm reminded of what I was taught in photojournalism 101, "If its not interesting -- Then you aren't close enough". Getting into the thicket of a bear's den may not be on your agenda today. To do that in the freezing rain, with lightening striking trees, isn't a sojourn for sanctuary, but for stimuli. Getting out and doing something interesting can be the places you choose to stop if you choose to stop at all. Bam! "Another Roadside Attraction", so here it is -- Your "Still-life With Woodpecker", and it's staring right at you. When you were glancing at the Strava route, or waiting for Google Maps to get it right, you were missing all of the sounds in a clear brook full of Trout. Or the tree that wrecked that farmhouse you've never noticed until now.
Of course whenever you take a Road Trip, you stop for a slice of pie, dishwater coffee, and the World's Largest Ball of Twine, right? Nah!, nobody does that anymore.  We surf the web, and shop on Amazon, while we drive. Or, we try to get a shot of the guy ahead of us, who has a clever bumper sticker, so we can post it.  But, what would happen if you stopped, and bought some Berries from an untended farm stand, and used them to bribe and pet a cow?, instead of grabbing Crisps, and Coke at a Shell Station?   ...Probably fun?

Making yourself available for adventure is not always innate nor intuitive.  Sometimes it takes a bit of coaxing to get yourself good & lost.  If you were to leave your map and phone at home, then it's true that you'd assume some added risk, But if you are likely to make it all the way to the end of your ride for the sole reward of adrenaline and some "likes" on Social Media, then a re-think may be your New Year's Resolution.  Some say that we now all take the same picture at the same monuments, so monumentally, that you can literally stack them one over the other and the outline would align. In fact Monuments now have a step to stand upon  as if you'd summited something, or beset upon the Lunar Surface.  But you haven't, you've merely paid for the least connections to get to a place to say you did that behind everyone else.  As you angle for a clean shot without anyone else bombing your background, consider downloading the official APP to help you set-up the shot (colors and all) to rival the best Influencers of your generation. If we all tag a monument or selfie ourselves like the Griswolds at the grand Canyon, then what is the point of the trip.  If the destination cannot even be appreciated except to say, "I did it", "been there, done that", then is it more incumbent upon you to stop along the way, because you clearly don't appreciate the place you have arrived upon.
Try this the next time you head outside.  With your first step out the door, or the initial mile -- Stop!, straddle the bike, lower your head, and then look up and draw a deep breath through your nose, and feel the air fill your lungs,  smelling the diesel, or cut grass, wet wood, or someone's laundry, and then set off again.
Take a moment to recognize that very unremarkable place, and think about why you haven't before. If you  generally find it daunting to take in even the least conspicuous places, then a new ritual of riding can occasionally get you in tune.  I once used an APP to find the most unusual and photographic bathrooms in Paris. Not mesmerizing as an exercise, but devotees of this sort of altar may be more holy than those who don't see. 
Take a chance on yourself, and leave the door without anything that uses batteries, and see how long you last. OK perhaps bring the lights, but take a moment to consider the sound of your breath, and the regulation of your heart, the warmth of your neck, and the chill in your toes. As you try to blow snot well clear of your Helmet at 22 mph, find a place in your heart to explore a place along the way.  Endeavor to bring back a frog, a smooth river stone, a wild-flower, or an arrowhead. If you are all out of space, then try lying on the ground in between 12 foot rows of corn, or beside a stream, and just listen. Put your ear to the earth or to a tree and see if it has a pulse.
​ Your ride is going to be outstanding. Regardless of your numb toes. Your burning ears, your wet chamois, and the orange oxidization growing on your chain as the waves try to push you down the embankment. These are the makings of a grand day out.  
The adventure begins when you leave the confines of the mundane.  Only don't be the sheep who follows the flock... Take a brisk if unusual ride, and suffer a bit, but be sure to touch something along the way, or pee on something unfamiliar.  Leave the SUV at home, and venture forth. Remember that although your SUV came fitted with road tires -- you know you can actually get out of it anywhere along the route and feel something. Go ahead, and touch some dirt if you'd like.  The Gravel Bike may as well be a bookend without the gravel.  When it warms up you won't tell yourself, (that) "Winter sucked because we were shut in for Five months with a towel on the floor soaking up the sweat of our Zwift bike trainer pals". I'll bet that Getting cold and being uncomfortable in the great wide open burns the same watts, and enriches the soul far more than the flat graphics of your LED screen.  When Spring comes you won't be as sleep deprived nor Vitamin D starved as your friends, and you may be a bit happier for it. Sure!, go where the sheep are -- but don't go like sheep.

Waites Once Said,
"I'd love to go drowning
and to stay and to stay
But the ocean doesn't want me today
I'll go in up to here, it can't possibly hurt
All they will find is my beer and my shirt
The riptide is raging
and the lifeguard is away
But the ocean doesn't want me today"
When you decide to ride close to the edge; You can pick the danger -- Perhaps it's a Tractor Trailer, the edge of a cliff, that side of the tracks, A rapid descent, pulling a skitch on the back of a school bus..., your choices were built to thrill, but may not be the most well planned. The edge brings a wash of excitement, risk, danger, and relief.  Today I rode through a crashing wave which should have swept me to drown, Like a fool, but as he says, "the ocean doesn't want me today".

How many gadgets do you need to go for a ride?
Me, I think one is enough, but I'd really like to know your thoughts. Last week I rode with a friend, and because he was visiting he used one of my bikes. I had charged the Blinky lights the night before, which is business as usual, and I don't consider these in my count of gadgets, but he brought some of his own bling and, because I believe he could not ride without these, I looked the other way when he added them to the kit. One was a Garmin, the venerable 700 or some such... He had a rear radar light with it, which he said let him know when an auto approached from behind. Smart?

The road to race-ready may be littered with new technologies, but at the race, the trophy is handed to the best fit and most cunning challenger.

I'm sort of a purist, and would likely prefer to leave my phone behind, but for the GPS whilst in strange lands. With the phone GPS running, I use a pair of cheap headphones to guide, with the occasional audio book or pod-cast, and I always ditch the phone in a Z-Packs Waterproof pouch in my jersey back. I have no need nor want to look at it whilst riding. In fact, if suffering from a barrage of Group Texts, one may DND all contacts until arrival. I hate to squirm with each ping, as if something were more important than my peaceful sojourn For me, (and it seems to be me alone); I don't count Watts, nor Cadence, nor Calories, or any such, I just ride, and it has done me good. I don't falter in a club-ride, and don't get left behind in a race, as I thought I may -- because I don't benefit from the same kit as my brethren. I do OK without the "benefits" of these mod devices.
Here is the strange thing. My buddy got his GPS running, and we briefly set our course to Madison from Waterloo, and I dropped my ear-buds in my head to hear the voice directions, but skipped the music or book to be closer to my riding partner, and to chat. What I didn't quite understand, was that I was getting directions from my phone in my pocket and leading the charge, whilst he was the one with the "Official Garmin GPS". Garmin after all is a GPS Company first and foremost right? So he benefits from the rear radar, I suppose, but the blinky light on that thing was shit, and he was only using the GPS to log his ride, and post it in the inter webs. (Something about, if it doesn't happen in Strava it never happened, correct?)
Well...That may be true and compelling to kid about, but if you go fishing, catch four nice smallie's, and throw them back, because you are too far from camp to keep them fresh, did you catch anything? Nope.
I believe that a cyclist can have a great ride, or even season without a battery, but for safety, brought by a good light, lest we not forget a few riding basics.
One: It is Desirable to be seen.
Two: It is preferred to not get lost.
Three: A phone in an emergency, is helpful.
Besides these three basic tenets, gadgets which run on DC voltage, excepting that you are not a true pro competitor, you may not require more tech. Let’s begin with Watts. In the Stone Age, slightly post development of the carbon frame, there came to be “Computers” which provided basic data. They incremented each kilometer, and averaged speed, and even counted the ratio of speed to Pedal Rotation, called Cadence. Cycling existed for nearly a century prior, but didn’t concern itself with more data. Cyclists performed at the pinnacle of their threshold, and dominated each other, factoring only the following metrics:
A: They were riding as fast as their bodies allowed.
B: They were slave to their caloric intake and natural ability.
​C: They were Faster / Slower than the other rider/s.
Fast as analog cyclists were, we can concede that people got faster with evolutive technology, much of which was the benefit of identifying genetic and physical markers and limits which would benefit/ inhibit their performance. Most performance variation not attributable to genetics, diet, rest, and training were gained by the steady improvement of the athlete's fitness level and of the bicycle itself.
Tech notwithstanding, it can be assumed that analog athlete's prowess improved through improved sport's nutrition and strategic training, but the Bike's tech may have tendered the largest tactical merit.
Tech was lightness, and light was/ is faster.

Wherever you seek inspiration, it is obvious that the spectacle of a good Cross race will do the trick.  Although it may be a bit tepid in a leotard, or Muscle Suit, in general terms the Cross season is the perfect season to wear a costume, and get out there.  Fun being the manifest destiny of any costumed crusader.  The autumn may lead to the winter of your discontent, but it doesn't need to be that dour, if you can manage a balloon or two, and a Twenty Dollar Costume, over your lycra shorts, then you are well equipped to enjoy yourself at a CX Race.  For those without, then make a search for a club locally, and see if you cannot find a Friendly, AKA a Fondo.  Many gravel Fondos carry with them a group of like minded Bike Nuts who would be happy to pull you through as long as you show some respect for the mechanics of drafting.  We Share CX and Gravel more than we may typically share a race or Club Ride as it seems to be understood that there is a level of silly, which makes it alright to wave your freak flag.  It is however still strictly forbidden to not match your seat and Bar wrap, so please respect the art-form.

When you look at the leader board, or the results it may or may not come as a surprise that the top ten are generally Belgian.  I do know that for my money, there seems to be a cultural or even genetic advantage to having been raised Belgian when it comes to the skill-set of CX.  From any vantage point we can appreciate that a winner is precisely that, and that while the heart and soul of U.S.  gross exports may be Software, Fast Food Chains, and Action Movies, The Belgian that we import in exchange is Stroop Waffles and CX Champions
I'm not worried for the future of this apparent trade imbalance just yet, because as climate changes and charm chastens, we may in fact become a bit more Belgian.  ...Anyway, of all the costumes and concert -T's created to put your agenda out in front of you, the one that stuck with me the most is linked here in case you want to one-up someone at your next race.  Warning: it generally follows that you should have the fortitude and fast to sport a skin-suit so don't rock it unless you can back up the claim.  Congratulations to Toon Aerts, who managed to handily sew up the Men's Final by flying over the final ramp like Shawn White in the Half Pipe, Not sure how 40 odd minutes of sprinting affords you the extra spice to pull a table-top, for flair -- But it definitely appears to be in the blood.  Buy a Shirt if you have the metal to wear one. HERE

I'd like very much to head to a smooth road like this one, and forget about the ten or so reasons I conjured which may cause me to bail.  Have you lived through the 90's? ...I mean were you old enough to ride a bike then? If so, then you may recall every manifestation of the affliction known as the  "Mountain Bike Craze".  This was a feature of the 90's, like SUV's, when we were all told by savvy marketing experts, friends, and neighbors, that cars were insufficient to grab some groceries.  "Hey By the Way, That sedan can no longer be relied upon to fetch a pizza", unless equipped with all wheel drive, Traction Control, and some Hella Search Lamps.  A Car now had to have a taller stature, wider stance, and a knobby spare on the back.  Marketing images abound with a smiling confident middle-class family of four  Dad smirks "Watch this" whilst on their way to Disney..., descending into a gulch, confidently rolling over a live tree, flipping the truck -- which would promptly upright itself and place them safely back upon an asphalt route to collect the dry-cleaning, and get cleaned up for catechism.
This is the true analog for what occurred to the Ten-Speed Bike.
Whatever perfect storm of influence was conjured by Cher, and Other witches by merely appearing in films with Jack Nicholson, somehow oozed into the life of the unwitting adolescent brain collective.  Trek was buying out Keith B, ruining Klein, Rolf, Fisher, etc... and all the madness fomented in a froth of jowls which were only sinking canines into larger rubber, gussets, and some kid with bad fashion called Troy Lee.
 
If you wanted a Bike in this decade, you had to first build a fire in your back acre, and set your ten-speed a-blaze, as a sign to the Knobby gods that you'd in-fact taken the "Blue Pill", and were ready for punishment.
Once you copped a feel of a large, slothful bouncy bike, you had to soil it just as rapidly -- even if it meant a mad-cap search for a Mud-puddle at the doggie park.   A Mountain Bike Craze had begun, and no sensible human could brave the pavement without 3 inches of heavy black Tioga's under them, and the moist anointing eau de toilette of John Tomac, spritzed about one's neckline. In fact, to keep the spell lasting and the smell fresh, it was likely that you'd wear some odd sweat sopping elastic bandana and a white foam helmet with a mesh cover to prove you meant business. Lest we leave buried the neon Lycra, where is lay.
If you were edgy you'd wear a full face mask, and some football shoulder pads made by some nobody, fashion mogul named Troy. (these were the current analogue to the red and white Japanese Bonzai 'Tee' from the Karate Kid 80's.)
...Me, I didn't wear a helmet nor a sweat band, Just cargo Shorts, and a Camel-Bak; But I must admit to being vaguely intrigued by the Large Brunette PHD in Mountain Bike Action selling Liquid Pheromones. 
 
I had a Mountain Bike, for sure!, ...because by '93 was actually illegal to own a road bike, and I know what you're thinking... It was not actually "against the law"... But well... You Are wrong! To be caught on a bike with a nominal tire size below 1 1/4, meant that you were in fact a surgeon, or other life support personnel, who would look after the rest of us, come the apocalypse or after a good smack into a Tree, whichever came first.  The rare air reserved for Doctors, who still were allowed to buy spendy road bikes, was an edgy minority so thin, that access passed through a keyhole in a rainbow lit suburban cult, housed in someone's basement. Secret meeting were held by a group who upheld the tenets of the bike faith which we were not allowed to see for another ten years.
 
As Road Bikes gathered dust, Mountain Bikes accrued sophisticated doo-dads through the mid-decade, including Carbon, Pivots, Springs, and Purple aluminum bits. rolling past the mid decade the fetishists who were running the show, made it clear that we were in a brave new world.  My Pink and Blue linear fade Klein was the talk of the trail, when it penetrated the suburban envelope, a man's steed beset with pink, was a "Sick Fairy" and, "...should get help". BUT, my Klein Attitude, smoked you, Literally it smoked you any place on any trail. Fewer colors were more out of place, in nature than the Mid 90's hardtail palette. Then things began to get weird.
 
The Hardtail was the last great inventive touch to happen to Mountain Bikes, or to Bikes in general for a while. Surely we can give a nod to the predecessor path racers, and "Balloon Tire Schwinn's", but the word Hard-Tail actually matriculated in earnest in the mid 90's. In fact, once the rest of the Un-Employed Aerospace Genius class came to the party and started making pivots, coils and seals, the fad was wearing thin, and the sad truth was that people were already becoming acutely aware that the really fast grocery getter was their old Ten-speed with the chain pulled tight as lycra, with a single cog.  But, Shhh! quiet, -- best not to tell them yet, lest we get ahead of the story, and the trend end abruptly.
 
Front Shocks, I'll hand you were a cool gizmo, and about 4 years later some of them worked; but the first ones were an abomination like, Pale Yellow tires, and Magura Calipers.  We just stood beside them at the party, waiting for them to leave so we could grab another beer a brat and their date.  I personally held out without a shock fork for the duration, opting for larger tires, such as the "Death Grip Two Three Five".  This was disruptive, adequate, and likely had more travel than the Marzzochi's, Manitou's, and (Gasp) Mag 21's of the latter century.  I rode a rigid fork for both my Attitude, and my Adroit, and later spun up a sheer cliff escarpment with a rigid fork on my Proto-type Mantra. (a full suspension pioneer). Shocks sullied my bike's purity, and perhaps denigrated the art-form I was immersed in.  If there is a person who rides a bike without a transformative sense of it's innate beautiful form, and simplicity, then that person lives a lie, and is primed for the next falsity.  I've rode circles around my friends, and it wasn't me, it was the bike... Or I should say, it's not me, it's YOU. Choose wisely to not to drag another 20 pounds of creaky mechanism, and tread lightly up a washed out creak bed.  Point, shoot, go!, was the rule.  Later I was intrigued by Horst Leitner, and the Amp fork design, but they faded like jeans, and failed soon enough, so parts became rare. I'm not glad, that mine was jacked, but the liberation of a stolen bike can also be an opportunity to a cleansing by fire, and a new beginning.
Parts were the issue, as with all good design, less is better, and too many parts getting filthy were their undoing. It also so happened that any barn with a CNC, was cutting Aluminum for bike parts rather than forging them, and some things softened up and died below a rider like cream cheese.
 
So where are we with the "Hard-Tail"?, well we have come around again to the part where history repeats itself, merely because it doesn't have the good sense to sit on it's hands, when before changes things operate well and don't require bedazzlement. 
 
So, (sigh) for the first part of the current Century, we slung Fixies, and Single speeds, which wanted hotly to be fixies, but didn't have the fortitude... We'd finally abandon the maddening plethora of anodized doo-dads and bad pivots, and then we shed ten pounds of rubber, to boil our bikes to a soupy broth more closely resembling the Pure Bicycle Gestalt.  The absolute quintessence of the form brought us from the brink of suspension madness, to the purest form of the bicycle revisited; e.g. Two wheels, drop-bar bolted to a diamond.
I bought one of those refined liberations as well... I bought THE actual gestalt form, called the District Carbon, from Trek.  I wasn't the largest Corporate bike fan, but this one was nailed.  Simple, Clean, and Discreet. It was matte black, sleek, uber light, and silently belt-driven.  The pejorative was the "Financial District", referring to it's staggering price, for a low calorie soup without Bits, Chunks, Veg., or croutons,  it was merely a clear consommé.
A Beautiful Bike, and a gateway drug to the Road Bike craze again, this time it would log new heights on the charts to stratospheric pricing, as soon as 22 speeds could weigh less than a carbon fixie.  
 
Ah, yes Carbon actually began to make sense everywhere.  So where did it happen?, the turning from the hardtail...? Did we burn out from hot bike bits of neon Purple and Blue? Perhaps it was the gained weight of so many bad suspension designs, or the high pitch of a CNC robot rebelling against it's master and then giving up it's ghost, when the Electric bill was no longer paid.  Perhaps is was the early 90's mass demilitarization which led to cheap carbon, loads of lab-coat dudes without jobs, and a hankering for something real.  If something real is the key, then lab coats just came with the territory, and all of this dropped side-by-side with the DOT-COM Boom! Ah yes, so we could now simulate everything indoors and make good solid products through CAD modeling, which we wouldn't use outside anyway.  So we dearly ogle  the 10 pound road bike, some lucky ones ride them, just in time to transition back to the heavy tired Hard-Tail again.
 
The woods are cool,  The wilderness beckons, while breezy shade and the cool scent of soil can reset your digital clock to analog, if you let them.  There is something oddly thrilling about beating up a path of back-country with a stealth fighter between your legs. We've shed pounds, and our bikes have mocked us, and  stiffened up, but we no longer do it in neon.
 
Matte Carbon moved us toward where we are today, and buoyed us up above the mire of so many bad franken-stems. Without the full springer we'd never get to the core of our story, which is why a Hard-Tail is perfect for trails, and perhaps why everyone still wants one.
Thinking about how far you may be from connecting with nature, would it take you over an hour to be alone in a breezy pine forest?  How long does it take and how much bike would you need to find solace sending over some single-track?  For most of us the challenge is as thick as the Trees we seek.  A visit to the wilderness is something to make time for.  A tour of the country-side is nice, but a bit of a sprint through the woods can heal a lot of what your digital life is working to destroy. Even a slow ride will re-anchor you.
 
Here is the rub... The hardtail gets you though the woods, but for some reason Cross-Country racing was replaced with Epic Downhill, and so the art of actual finesse and pedal-dynamics was exchanged for gravity-fed full-armored descents.  Today the Road Bike revolt has firmly supplanted what the 90's did to the ten-speed, and when it's all said and done, we will laugh off the trends du jour just as we wax nostalgic about Tom Ritchey, and the merits of Girven vs Frischknecht . 
 
Today the conversation is on Gravel Bikes, and the elephant in the room is that we have all seen this bike before.  The Gravel Bike is the Modern Hard-Tail, perhaps formerly known as the path racer. This indisputable new trend may lead to some silly design permutations. I like innovation, and as shown I own several; Some more successful than others. Today, the Gravel Bike is in the white hot crucible of the Iron forge, and the maelstrom of black Carbon Smiths who are rending new glued shapes really bring a lot of "the same" to the bench.  This past week, again I rode my Venerable Diverge through the Moraine, and the ride was beautiful.  I Fished, Hunted Morels, Hauled wood, Hung from trees, and Camped out.  Like so many people, I wonder if my bits work as well as they used to, or if I'm in need of some improved bits, and tackle, but in general, I am pleased with each and every adventure I endeavor.  So my current Hardtail is an S-Works Diverge, and I've given it a licking, and it's happy to give back.  It reminds me of my first hard-tail, and how an individual can become one with machine, to forget the tool and enjoy the journey.  Performance is measured (I THINK) by how little you consider the tools you use, and how you simply expect them to perform. I never owned a Stumpjumper, but I think that in all the versions Sinyard tightened them up to more approximate their contemporary Klein's I think that the latest Gravels from O.P.E.N, 3T, Salsa, and Now Trek, are the fat-tire craze mach Two.
 
The modern Hard-Tail is a Gravel bike, which was a Road Bike with wide tires, some plush bits, and the ability to take punishment -- Kind of like my old Schwinn Traveler.  One could say that Disc Brakes were the lynch-pin for this arrival, as they allowed things to get fat. Just as my Hard-tail resisted suspension, some things are best left in the oven until fully baked.   The term Hard-Tail wasn't a pejorative, but a badge of courage... because it defines a class which set out to reject the elite class full springer. A gravel bike has so much in common with my Hard-Tail, that it's merely "High English" for something we used to get dirty. Today, I ride all sorts of races, friendly's and country trails, and I am trying desperately to not lose sight of my shortcomings. Shall we call it like we see them.  If you point it and it goes, and you don't give much thought to the tool beneath you, then either it's working or you're already dead.  My Hard-Tail works like that, and it's a "Gravel Bike". So when you consider buying a full suspension Gravel Bike -- then perhaps we will have tipped the see-saw toward the slope again. Perhaps then, the Gravel bike will become the latest descent machine and a new sport will be born called descent racing, only there will not be a grueling grind up to the summit, but rather a leisurely bus ride. The new use for silly full-springers merged with skin-suits and armor, and whatever scraps remain from retired Time-trial bikes, will blister down the road as we navigate the descent upon pavement, and not along the dirt path.
Where we are headed now, I could not begin to speculate.  My '56 Schwinn Traveler had cushy tires and a drop-bar, and it's design predated me. So this trend is nothing new.  Because we have all been here before, I'm pretty sure that bikes are capable of time travel, so long as you own a Hard-Tail.
 
​Enjoy your Gravel Bike, or whatever  you wish to call it.


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When is the right time to take a ride beyond your comfort zone?  When you are stressed? When you are bored? When you are tired of getting invited to ride in uncomfortable weather? When Zwift becomes your status quo riding buddy?
Perhaps the best time to roll around on the desert floor, is when you are cold and tired of doing the same old thing.  It's not a knowable threshold, as each person has a different tolerance for the banal.  My valley floor of boredom definitely gets taxed about once a month, but really comes to bear every quarter -- and at that point I have to flee someplace where I don't know the outcome specifically.  I think that being uncomfortable, unsure, and unrealistic is a coping strategy for boredom. As you run your tongue back to your molar to clear a nagging scrap of fast food, it dawns on you that it's been nearly a year since you sustained yourself on GORP, and Dry Meals. It's been nearly a year since you woke up cold, and as a reflex smiled to be chilly on a crisp morning watching your exhale dissipate as steam. Camping can close a nagging gap in your palate for adventure. Spring is a great time to stray toward the desert.

When in the Desert, water is rather important. But being in the desert without the right outerwear may be just as critical.  Paramount in the planning is to take steps to ebb thirst, starvation, and exposure just like we do every day; But somehow in the strange environs of the Desert, which is not my native terrior, One becomes keenly aware that "We" are not in Kansas any more.  
So... What do you bring if you are Bike-Packing for a week someplace strange? You need the typical cadre of fix-it stuff, from bandages, to spoke keys... But you need a few bags more full of gadgets to make things comfortable.  
If one is to travel light, then the list simplifies to the following: 
​Sleep: A Bivvy Bag, and a Sleeping bag, and Pad if you like to sleep well.

• Cook: A Camp stove, and fuel.
• Eat: Coffee Caffeine Meds Snacks and Food.
• Drink: Water bottles, and lots of them; and Perhaps a Hydration Pack
• Defend: Knife and tools -- I bring a tiny Gransfors Bruk Axe, but that's because I'm infatuated with it.
• Ignite: Sparker Flint or matches.
• Wear: Jersey, Shorts, Shell, Puffy, Underwear, Pants, Socks, Gloves, Shoes, and a Hat.
• Protect: Sunglasses, Sun-block, Chap Lip stuff, and Some Paracord, Tent Line.
• Clean: Any Personal Care products, and maybe a pack of wet-wipes, or Lens Cleaner wipes.
• Mend: Tools, Pump, Inflators, Tube, Tire, Chain Pins/links, and other sufficient spare crap for your rig.

What you won't need:

• What Not: Much else

It gets Cold at night in the desert, such that you may be tempted to over-pack, and drag with far too many things to cover the 40-50 degree spread between day and night.  The sun is hot in the daytime because there is nary a droplet to screen you from the infra-red glow of the sun.  I like long sleeves and a hat during the daytime, and I find that Knickers are great for riding and to guard and warm the knees during the cold mornings and hot afternoons. The best I've found come from Sugoi, These "Zap Thermal Bib Knickers" are fantastic, and modulate temperature very well. My "Zaps" are made in a reflective design which entails nearly a million dots, or beads of reflective crystals to make you visible at dusk to darkness. Sugoi's one piece "RC Pro" moulded chamois is exceptionally comfortable and seems to defy getting smelly on multi-day trips. By nature I'm not a stinky person, but I did expect more odour by the fifth desert day, and it didn't occur, or that's what I told myself. The dry desert air helped a bit. 
​Enter JT anyway you prefer, but be aware that Water is available only at a few entrances, and that you will need to check-in to civilization for provisions, in particular if you are on a bicycle.  When it comes to deciding how to thin out your kit, it's not advised that Water be one of the things you leave behind.  For those of us not from 'round here, it's good to think of oneself as a large loaf of Wonderbread, to underscore just how dainty even the most hardened athlete may come to feel exposed in the heat and dryness of this desert life.  Double down on the fact that every surface seems to be either sharp, pointy or scratchy, and you can better grasp how fast a doughy bag of soft fluffy whiteness will crenate into a crouton.  Bring Water, in spite of your other provisions, and use the caution that is posted at the ranger stations: There is no point saving water, as it doesn't do you any good unless you drink it, or rather have drank.  At 8.4 pounds per gallon, you may carry 18-20 lbs of water with you and still not have enough, so be smart about both exhaustion, use, and consumption.
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Just as the sun shines brightly in the daytime, the moon seems to do the same at night, and it isn't a bad strategy to bring an eye-shade for sleeping soundly when the moon comes around to nudge your sun-baked soul out of bed like a zombie.  In case you are a bit of the "wimpy type" tuning out the nighttime may create a more restful evening, and that said -- a pair of ear-plugs can be a blessing and a curse.  The Good is that dropping 30 dB to tune out someone's f'cking generator, at an RV campsite can save you jail time for sabotage? The Bad is that you may not hear the desert rat, or coyote stealing or chewing through your food bag. This is why I've included a Tent (I prefer this to a solo Bivvy) and 10-30 feet of Paracord or tent-line. This is great for bear-bagging food out of reach of critters, (I bring night-ize Reflective line). Nothing is quite as frustrating to a good night's sleep symphony, interrupted by a duet of chewing sounds near your head in the tent or bivvy. This happens when you assured yourself that your tooth-paste, and GORP was safe in your tent space. The trouble with the interruption isn't the missing oral care or snacks, but the hole in your bag, tent or worse, the whole bag stand-off with a midnight pack of dogs.

Lets focus on the good stuff.  It's all good stuff, when you plan for inconvenient contingencies. Bag your food up high and away from your slumber.  If you hope to be worth-a-shit tomorrow, then let whatever be, BE, farther from you as you sleep.  A critter may come and go, and you'll be happy that you didn't notice them, when you awake to find your stuff exactly where you left it. 
I like to make a campfire, but in most bike-packing, lugging a cord of wood isn't practical, so if you cannot source it locally, and it's half-past freezing by 9:30 P.M. then you can snuggle in your bag with a magazine, or some Pink Floyd.
​Entering the desert from any angle is sure to make an impression upon you. If you are not from around here, you may comment how out of place you feel, or wonder how countless people with a bit more resolve than you have survived it for millennia. Entering Joshua Tree proper, will increase that effect, as the surreal nature of it's unique topiaries is something out of a Bosch or Seuss illustration.  Many have entered the desert to find themselves, salvation, gold, or something lost in their city life. As parks go, Joshua Tree, is still unique, but not alone in the majesty of it's odd topography, and vegetation.  Unlike Painted Canyon below it, Joshua Tree is scattered in it's exhibits, as though it was created to persuade the visitor to stay and roam and make a week of it.  Surely one can visit from the coast in a day, and be back in the Santa Ana Hills for a sunset, or back in Newport for a Beach campfire singalong. Whatever your time-frame, or agenda, something here will make you feel humble -- if a bit edgy. This place imparts the sensation that you have entered a special place, a bit monastic, or parochial in nature.  As with all astonishing architecture, JT creates a wonderment in the most jaded and conceded adults.  It is a place where you can just give in and recognize that you don't know everything yet, and this is validation.  I tend to enter a Cathedral, Bridge, Tunnel, or Ship with a similar sense of amazement, and I wonder how it is that anyone ever conceived of such a task, let alone see it through.
​Joshua Tree's majesty is in it's juxtaposition of  smooth plateaus, and washes with haphazardly stacked rocks. The sense of playfulness of round boulders the size of houses precariously poised upon one another lording over a sandy basin with nothing more than spiky dead vegetation, would lead any outsider to wonder.
​Nothing is actually dead here, although it is far from a verdant fairway. It does feel as though everything was created spiky and formidable to protect some secret treasure.
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​Rock climbers love it here, although the granite boulders are rough, their gnarly abrasion is a bit gentler than it's neighboring cactus, but not by much.  This is why climbers tend to repeat key sites where use has made the cracks more manageable, and less brutal to the hand.  Softer seams of basalt erode between layers of Granite, splitting entire mountains, into manageable slabs, and then into giant boulders, and eventually this seemly sea-bed, polished down these massive bits to balls, which look assembled by a kindergarten of giants at the beach. The talc soft seams appear to span miles, so where a boulder is split, looking down that line will reveal the pattern repeated until they crumble into sand. The effect of following a tilted seam to it's vanishing point is a Zen meditation in itself. Climbing at Joshua Tree can be crowded, and this again is merely because there are preferred stomping grounds, whose charted routes, and anchored bolts are more manageable and less life threatening.  If you come to boulder, bring great shoes, and expect them to get a bit shredded, and bring a tick pad, and some gloves. Anyone can wander along paths, and routes, leaping from rounded rock to the next takes some skill, balance, and stamina.  Enjoy a hike, and some scrambling regardless of your age, but use caution.  The granite here can be slippery, and sharp as barbed wire. As crowded as mid-day in the winter may be, hold on -- most guests will be gone well before night-fall. A menagerie of creatures, and a monumental payoff in scenery and shifting colours happen when the desert quiets, and most day-tripper have left. At Dusk sleeping rabbits, spring to action devouring flowers, which may have only opened a few hours earlier. Fox, Sheep, Coyotes, and Mountain Lions all prefer Dusk, and dawn, when it's cool, & still. 
 
Coffee Break  
Coffee is important to me, and I am a snob in this dominion as with Bikes. A such, I have in-fact found the proverbial Holy Grail of Coffee kit for the bike-packer, and it comes in two forms.  Both begin with spectacular grounds and boiling water, while one is a Convenient French Press in my Reactor Camp Stove -- The other is the miraculous Nano.  The Former is simple. It is a long screw stick plunger and a flat disc made by your camp stove preference to press away the grounds to slowly reveal golden black coffee.  I like MSR's, but Biolite, Jet-Boil, and others all have Press-pot kit options.  The real magic begins at dawn with a great cup of coffee, and for me, I will sacrifice one pair of socks, and ExOfficio briefs for the Nanopresso ultraportable Espresso maker.  This is simply the most essential piece of Bike-pack/Backpacking gear since the Flashlight, and Pocket-knife. I don't endorse leaving these two essentials behind in favor of the savor of a shot of Espresso, but one does have some decisions to make. What do you find to be essential travel gear? Bear with this indulgence.
I was asked by a fella from Portland, "What key piece of gear could you never take another adventure without", and as absurd as this may seem...  I'd find it tough to leave the Nano behind.  I told him my Axe, was also high on my list, for which We received another roll of the eyes; More on that later.
 What is the Nano, from Wacaco? have a look at it? it is barely larger than a rolled up pair of socks, and weighs about as much a large swiss-tool.  It's magic follows:

The Shape of your bike and your winter form may both be in tip-top, as you tell yourself..., or they may be a bit rusty, like mine, but the Bike is the easy one to fix. Your own form takes a bit longer to bring up to speed.
Everyone has a favorite ride, and some lucky few have a ride for each condition, uniquely suited to every outing: e.g. Gravel, Touring, Fat, Gnarley, Ultra-Light, Full Springer, Cruiser, Stoner, Lock-up, Electric, who knows how many one needs.  I know that my focus has mostly been upon permutations of the Road Genre. I have a favorite bike for club-rides and fondos. I have a favorite bike for Gravel, Cross, and the less well paved. I also have a bike that I thought I'd love for both, and don't care much for either.
For this Trip I brought the Swiss-tool of bikes, in fact we both did; We brought the Specialized Diverge.  Mine was the S-Works, with a Future-shock, and his was the Comp Model without. If you looked at it in a store you may notice that the S-Works appears race or Sport suited, rather than a thoroughbred Pack Bike... But don't be fooled. It is surprisingly well suited to long haul trucking over questionable terrain.  The tires are fat, the ride is plush, and the hi-fi is on in the background.  The S-Works Diverge does not have a complex when it gets looked at sideways.  The frame carries water like a camel, the Wheels are well built and strong, the Stance feels planted and the steering holds a line in a loaded down-hill as though on rails. In fact I think the brilliance of this bike was just such shone through the lens of this particular Desert Sojourn.  The gearing was wide and varied enough to be effective at speed, and torquey at Climbs.  The two present questions as I decked the bike out with the full kit of bags was the dread that something dainty and glamorous such as the shock, stem, saddle or post would snap in half.  Nothing catastrophic such as that occurred, in fact neither bike sustained a "Mech" (technical issue) whatsoever.  The Dropper seat-post and stock carbon railed saddle held the full measure of the loaded seat-bag, the Medium frame pack mated to the frame with space for bottles, and the Handlebar bag, did not destroy the Future-shock.  In Fact the Future shock performed even loaded with a Sleeping bag, Camp stove, Puffy Coat, Bivvy, and Sleep Pad, and of course my Nanopresso.  The rebound was silky the whole trip, in flats, drops and hoods.  Descents, and Climbs were cheerful, and well guided.  Modification Note:  I asked Apidura for clips to match my Expedition handlebar bag, and then I created a Y-shaped webbing to tether some light bulky crap atop my bag, and it worked brilliantly.  I suggested to them to include this or sell it as an accessory; but just the same they obliged me with a full set of clips to create more stowage on my front end, and this dollop atop my bag had no ill-effect on my control.  Further Modification: I used the single fork braze-on to mount the top bolt of two water cages to each side of the fork, (this holds the gravity of the load) while I used a stainless zip-tie to strap the bottom of the cage to the fork, (a bit askew), which made the Cage perpendicular to the ground rather than following the fork rake, and I placed two 22 oz Bottles (full for the duration) to my forks, and this operated flawlessly. It's amazing to me that we rode for a week without breaking something. The S-Works Diverge is a champ, and despite having some legit complaints which I'll address in another article... The Bikes performed as well as we could have expected, in spite of glaring holes in my preparedness.
Here is what I forgot to bring:
Chain Lube, Chain Pins, & Links -- Brought 10, not 11 speed.
Torx Wrench for Caliper alignment --Small Ratchet didn't fit.
Spare Tire -- We brought the usual Park-Tool Boot Kits.
Full size sun-block -- We brought the small stick roll-on.

So Besides these holes in my preparedness, ...Anything that could have gone wrong, did not.
Full disclosure, the Stock bike was not modded whatsoever except, the Spec Carbon Hover-Bar was swapped for a flared Easton Carbon Bar to impart stability and clearance in the drops and hoods. I don't think the Hover bar's upright position benefits me much, and as such I don't see returning it to this bike.