Snufkin ride and that bastard cellphone

 Feic, how I needed to get outside. But sometimes it´s hard to get your lame butt off the couch, as many of us know... so I was a bit late for a hike. So I originally had decided to cancel everything altogether and just call it a day, until I realized two things: I have a mountainbike, and I am an avid mountainbike rider. I tend to forget it these days, what with all the stress going on even for the simplest everyday things and a load of other stuff I am doing. I often forget to tend to myself over caring for others. So I had a laugh at my own stupidity and packed some water and grabbed some grub, and off I was for the hills, and the sun was shining oh so bright...

I brought my phone, of course. I always do. There´s a first aid pack in my backpack, and the cellphone sits right in there, for you can never know. And I know I SHOULD have turned it off, but with the organization of a big and cool event we are planning going on, I thought, yap, better safe than sorry, and left it on.

Bummer.

I received some 57 calls from people who wanted to attend the event we are organizing, and roundabout 30 of them were about who does not like whom and why this and that one deserve more attention than the other f***er who also wants to come. I don´t know what people are up to at the moment, but if I have to work as a children´s caretaker, I´d love to get paid as one. At least, but turns out, it´s more of a psychologist´s work, and I´d love to get paid THAT much.

And the rest of the calls were from people who wanted to know things they already knew but were too lazy to look them up in their email account. In fact, most of them told me they were too lazy, and that it would be my obligation to inform them, because they would want me to, for they were so important I could not do without them, implying the fact that I would not get them if I did not do the full-on-wellness-package. I had a not very polite and quite corny reply for them, and then I did the only thing that is sensible to do on a Snufkin day: I turned off the phone. There is a message hidden somewhere inside this rant, and I daresay one can find it quite easily... ;-)

That said and done, I was able to finish the lame ride on the lane to head to the hills, still on a road, but it was fair enough with very little traffic. 

 Roe deer were grazing calmly beside the road... and it was absolutely hilarious, what their expression was, when I took out the camera, just like "what´s that guy over up to? Girls, look pretty, he´s taking photos!". I simply smiled....

Beside the road there was the constant murmuring of creeks and tiny waterfalls even. Some few birds were singing, and apart from a rare occasion, when a car passed, there was no other sound than the gentle rustle of the wind in the trees...

 Then I was passing the "Brenscheider Ölmühle", an old oil seed mill dating back to the 18th century and closed down in 1950 or so. It is a really cool place with a garden overflowing with the colours of wild flowers.

 There also was a signpost with a plaque on it with a poem by Christian Morgenstern:

http://christian-morgenstern.de/dcma/index.php?title=Der_Mondberg-Uhu

But the trail led ever on and on, and I followed. I was fond of my body, in spite of my profound lack of training, did what it was supposed to do, and really enjoyed even the uphill. In fact, there was a lot of uphill that day... I rode from sea level to... we´ll see... ;-) further on.

 The first ´shrooms were ´shrooming, in this case shaggy ink cap, coprinus comatus, in German: Schopftintling, which is edible when young. You should not take the one on the right, so to say, but could enjoy the ones on the left.

 The trail was a wonderful garden of light and shadow, and while I was labouring along in my granny gear, I really enjoyed the radiant light that soothed my soul.

 There´s a reward... on top of things, the shadows diffuse and you can see the clear, blue sky.

And further up I rode until I reached the ridge between the Mesekendahl and Großendrehscheid in the vicinity of Nachrodt-Wiblingwerde.

 And further on I toodled, now over the gently rolling hillsides far above things.

 This is the old coal and iron ore trade road I was on, and it was at an elevation of roundabout 520 m at the highest point.

 Then I reached the Border of Hagen city, at roundabout 438 m over sea level. This was an important checkpoint in old times.

 I loved to imagine the traders of that time, tinkers and carters, stopping by in an old wayside inn, and looking over the hills while their wagons were checked and having a sip of dark ale. It is quite safe to say that there was iron traded from the Siegerland region, and quite arguably also the famed Breckerfelder steel quality was taking this route into the world in the earliest of times. The earliest evidence of this route is a coin excavated, which dates back to Roman times.

 This is home to me. Standing on top of a hill and looking over the hillsides. Far away from where this picture was taken, in the vicinity of that big white chimney you can see on the picture, there somewhere lies the house I live in; and yet I feel more comfortable on this hillside than in the clamorous, overpopulated cities.

Then it was time for the reward, and I was taking the technical singletrail down into the Volme valley.

 Again there was the play of light and shadow swirling around me, and beside the trail the speedflowers bloom.

 Then I reached the road and hauled home... but what remained was...

The light on a dust-ridden hilltop.

Oh, and the phone?

Sometimes you just have to switch it off. Try it. It works.

A rookie ride with catastrophes and cake and coffee...;-)

 Two weeks ago we met again @Felsengarten in Hagen to get in some technical basics. The smiths and crafties seem to have developed an affinity for fat tires...;-) I claim to be innocent, no really, I am ;-). Nick showed up with his new Stevens Taniwha 29er (Dom, dom, the Taniwha has come...:-)) he really enjoyed.

 It was really, really cool that Kai showed up to help with the tutoring and have some fun. He has got a lot to do at the moment, what with his studies and his eagerness to be the best... ;-). It was good fun to have him around, have a chat and do some sicker lines to impress the folks... ;-)

 We also foraged for some sage and lavender and did some owl-watching... but alas... the owl family was not at home... ;-) and we did some smelling the roses.

 The vicinity is really beautiful and you can do everything, if you do it sensible. Basking in the sun is one thing...

 

 We did some braking practice, and then Henning came to me and asked about some funny noises his bike made. Then it turned out there were some huge chunky tires fitted, and while the stays offered plenty clearance, the front derailleur obviously did not, and the only way was to take the big/big combination...

 Turned out that with a shortcage rear derailleur and a chain that was a bit short and a 100kg body weight that was a combination that was less than ideal.

So Henning tore off his derailleur hanger. #shit, if you ask me. Henning is fighting quite some adversaries taking up the sport, and I am really sorry for this (but cannot help it any). Mountainbiking is a hard sport, and you WILL fall, and you WILL hurt yourself, and you WILL wreck your bike. Mastery comes with controlling the circumstances, so that if you hurt yourself, you do not hurt yourself permanently, and if you wreck your bike, you are prepared to repair it. A torn derailleur hanger, however, is just about SNAFU.

Since it did not work out, Henning packed up and was off for a BBQ, and we continued tutoring Nick and Kathrin. I was really fond of Kathrin, who is making some huge progress at the moment. She has to overcome some mental barriers still (some anxiety and the plain refusal to do some essential things such as getting accustomed to riding with a lowered seat in technical situations, but as is, her composure and body tonus are way good already.

Lowering your seat in technical situations is not only a requirement of style. It often is crucial for survival, and even on some leisurely and casual rides you always encounter steep inclines where a high seat will ultimately send you over the bars. This is often not easy to understand for beginner riders, why you need a high seat for some situations and a low one for others, but it is an essential technical basic to know when to say when. A lower seat, even if you are not accustomed to it, will offer you more control in steep inclines and when climbing over obstacles.

 

 

We did some more braking practice and some first practice on off road terrain. Kai gave some valuable additional input with his background in trials and hardcore freeride mountainbike riding.

 

 Then we rode out to Käse Deele trailside café to do some practice in balancing a cuppa coffee and a piece of cake while having a laughing fit ;-).

Just having a good time and relaxing after a cool day riding!

Folks, it just feels cool to just go out with you, and as I have said on countless occasions - I really look forward to showing you some real rides and to open up the "heart of the wind" for you! But even so, it´s cool to have you around! For this to me is what mountainbike riding is all about: hanging out with some friends at places where it is really cool, pushing your comfort zone and playing around on a bike, and some good foodie afterwards which you can delve into with relish.

Simple. Fun. ;-)

I can fly again;-)

 So, well, the world is ending, word. And still I got a new bike. And still I got a huge grin on my face. Not really a sensible one. Not bike nor grin. But still.

I have long contemplated getting a bug-out or overland bike built up, but fact is, I only just so could afford a new frame and fork and the parts that always look as if they fitted on and actually do not. ;-) And a bug-out bike is not that much fun, at least one as I think of. No suspension fork, and a relatively tame geometry, racks and panniers and all that stuff.

I got still a frame or two in the cellar that could fit that bill if required, but then, yap, "dress for the crash, not the ride", it would limit my riding. Chance is, this is the last bike I can afford anyway, so I wanted to say goodbye properly to a sport that has given me so much (Taken a lot, too. But still.). No thanks, by the way, to Orange cycles. For want of a derailleur hanger, the frame was lost, no indeed. I had to dispose of my former bike because there is no hanger available for a 2013 model, bummer.

Talking of which, there´s a funny story revolving about my buying this frame, a Dartmoor Primal. I called Dennis from Metal Motion Bikes if he had something bargain in the shop or to be ordered, and he recommended Dartmoor bikes, a Hornet frame, to be exact. I rummaged through the specs, and as Seppel and Frank, friends from my former club had a lot of good things to tell about that bike, I thought, well, get that, and began to look forward to it.

BUT.

Turned out the advertised frame was no longer available. the 2015 models were sold out in June. So, well I thought, can´t get the old frame, so take the new one.

BUT.

Turned out there were no 26" frames without a rear through axle, just 27,5" or 29". Now a rear through axle is an axle that is clamped into the frame, and having a good 10mm thicker diameter is stiff to boot, but simply put-I could not afford to buy new wheels.

Enter the Primal frame. Wow, I thought, what a good-looking thingy, simple and stiff, without a through - axle, normal measurements and a configuration for 26, 26+ (26" with 3" tyres) and 27,5" diameter wheels and suiting my suspension fork of choice. So, I called Dennis to go and order one for me.

BUT.

Turned out they were no longer available.

THOU SHALT NOT RIDE 26"!

Turned out the 2015 models were sold out in June, too. Got a bit angry, so I called the distributor and with my best clerk´s voice I demanded one to be put into reserve. Turned out there still was one being found in the storage, my size and all. So I called Dennis and told him to call the distributor to order the one I had put into reserve for an hour. Then I called him to ask for the price. Turned out no one knew. The frame arrived, I went to fetch it and took some money with me, eager to pay and get the whole deal done with.

BUT.

Turned out there was no bill and no prize list for it. Dennis and Ralf, his father were simply great, they just took out the calculator and made me a prize I was more than content with and threw in a headset, and a wire set at a bargain, and I want to make abundantly clear that they did one of the best jobs I have ever seen anyone do, and that includes me working as a bike mechanic, period. But I think the industry´s a bit over the top. Okay, it is not my religion to ride smaller wheels, but, hey, that is what I have, and they have definite advantages, being lighter, stronger and more lively. In surfing and kayaking there are long and short boards and boats, why can´t they just build versatile bikes for real people (like me?). That this is possible, is testified by this very frame, which can do most of it all. I strapped the shiny-blingy thingy to my backpack and rode home from Witten still with a singlespeed, but with laughter in my heart and joy.

Since my beloved neighbours would not have it that I build up bikes in my own cellar, and I did not want to quarrel with them, especially in the times that are to come, I took up my tools and parts and bike into my attic-turned-ahem-was-that-home ;-), took out a beer from the fridge, put on a Guano Apes CD and started to build it up.

I want to thank Seppel, who sold me a nearly new Rock Shox Domain suspension fork with 160 mm of travel and a through axle with a front wheel for a price that was outright ridiculous, and Michael, who did even more than that and unmounted the rear derailleur and cogset from his own bike and gave it to me for a bottle of mead. Bro, I know, what this means to you, and I hope you know I value it and take responsibility for this gift. Also Jandark, who gave me an old front derailleur, for my old one did not fit anymore, contributed a lot for this bike. Thanks, folks, I don´t want to get sentimental, but I guess you know what I mean when I call you friends.

Two bottles of beer later the beast took shape, I adjusted the gears as good as it would go (turned out it has an asymmetrical rear triangle, so I have to rebuild the rear wheel completely, but was too lazy and too eager to do it).

New brake discs, new shifter cables, a relatively fresh saddle, and I was off for the first ride around the block.

And nearly fell arse over tit as I hit the first berm. It was not that anything came apart, or anything was wrong. That bike is extremely stiff and light and can be flicked around by mere thought-control. It is a bit frightening if you oversteer the first bend because the fork is THAT stiff. Also, I was so amazed at the traction the beast has that I was getting timid. Uphill it can be ridden four gears harder, and my first bunny - hop, a jump over obstacles, was like going on an orbit mission. It is shorter, stiffer and meaner than the Orange, and with the 26" wheels it can be flicked around with a mere weight shift. It needs some dialling in on my part, for it requires a far more aggressive riding style than I was used to with the old bike, but I was laughing like a madman on that first outing.

 Another lousy picture, apologies, my camera will be dead soon... but what I want to say is three things. First, many modern bikes come with bars as wide as 1000mm. Of course, this gives you ample leverage, but try riding this on a REAL singletrail and you´d instantly know why I prefer smaller bars. Plus, if you stand absolutely relaxed with your arms dangling freely by your side, this is the most relaxed position your arms and shoulders can be in. To me, it appears logical, that the horizontal distance between your hands also is the most convenient length your handlebar grips should be apart. And third, many beginners make a mistake by setting up the stem on a long-travel hardtail too high. If your fork blows through the travel, of course you want a higher cockpit, but then your fork is set up wrong. You should always draw a triangle by taking a length of washing line and the help of a partner, fixing it to your navel and the contact points of the wheels to the ground. That triangle should have approximately equal lengths in all the sides. For a downhill bike the triangle can tend a bit farther to the rear, and with a crosscountry bike a bit farther to the front, but avoid the extremes. The Primal with the low cockpit setup precisely falls into a triangle with equal sides. It felt as if it all clicked into place! I have to move very little up or down to achieve the perfect distribution of weight and balance. The bike as is has a huge potential that I have to learn how to put up to, and this is something I last experienced when I got my Zaskar way back then. It can be fostering a whole new riding style!

...did I mention I am a bit excited about this?;-D

 The chain- and seat stays (the tubes at the chain and those that go into the seat tube, the tube with the saddle in it) offer PLENTY of tyre clearance and I daresay there´d be at least some 2,8" tyres in the near future...

 Once again, THANK YOU, Michael. I hope to put up to it.

 Yesterday it was extremely shitty weather, as you might notice from the pictures, and blimey, it was murky. I just craved to get outside! Was wet through in no time, and you could not tell the North or South end of a northbound elk from all the mist, but I hade a somewhat crazed grin on my mouth the whole time.

 Fire roads, singletrail, oh yeah, I was feeling extremely slow, and chance is, I was, but still....

It feels as if I am back on my trail. Now many might think of it as being superfluous and perfunctory, but I often think very grave thoughts, so I need a bit of escapism from time to time. But is it really? I often think that the feelings that my bike has offered me ingress to over the last 29 years have given me an insight, not to say enlightenment. It´s the flow phenomenon that shares many characteristics to Eucharist, Satori and Sírr... just thinking aloud, do I?

Flow has made me a different man. It´s in the wind, not in the tyres or the frame. It´s in the woods.

And if you have been there, you know what I mean when I say that there is respite in the temple of the wind, and eternity in the crystal of a moment. If you haven´t, all words are futile.

I can fly again, and I do.

Of pain and ordeal and the soothing woods

 I wrecked my bike recently. When riding up a fire-road, "just riding along", in fact, my derailleur hanger, chain and rear derailleur broke. Grumbling, I had fixed it by shortening the chain and rode single - speed to the smithy or to the bike shop to order a spare part I normally could not afford, but it´s late summer, so I figured there´d be enough to eat in the woods and I could do with  loosing some fat, so I thought I´d cut down on eating for a month. Why is that so, you might ask, and shake your head in disbelief. Let me explain this. Mountainbike riding, and bicycle riding in general, gives me a kind of freedom. Poor people should not be allowed this freedom. We should get on the dole and be enslaved by big-term temporary employment agencies and, first and foremostly, shut up in front of the white - collared Herrenmenschen. I give an example to many people. I dismiss greed in a shark´s basin and don´t take money for many things I do - for you don´t rid a shark´s basin from the sharks by becoming one. I always have. Plus, the one thing you can afford when being poor, is a certain kind of pride. I ride my bike in a special way. Of course I love to ride for fun, but life is not always fun. I use my bike to get around most of the time, for foraging, and, of course, to soothe my soul. Feeling flow is important to me, be it by sitting beneath a creek, smithing, drawing, making music or poetry, or mountainbike riding. When I look down at my belly and, well, the times of my lean waistline are well behind me, so to say;-), I daresay I can afford to be on a diet for some time, and so I set my priorities.

Now, bummer, the spare part I needed did not arrive, and I still thought about getting out into the woods. At first I thought to go for a walk, for riding a singlespeed bike in the mountains can be painful. But then my father and grandfather had nothing else but a singlespeed bike and still rode the hills of the Sauerland and went on epic rides well before WWII. I don´t want my ancestry being ashamed of me, so I packed my pack, made a flask of tea and out I rode into the hills.  At first I stopped a bit to watch the wild pigs for some time, with bristles golden in the sun... smug in their laziness basking in the sun.

 The sun was a radiant, vibrant star blazing through the bright green of a summer´s day, and it was hot.

 I pounded up a hill that would normally pose no threat to me... but with one gear alone pain was my companion constantly, and my legs were burning. Still, I was in the woods, and it is a matter of respect that you be strong in these halls.

 I relished in the twilight and the dancing shadows that passed overhead, removed from the bright, blue sky. I felt very much alive then, sweating hard and pounding and breathing hard and hammering the pedals up the hill that seemed so much steeper. Many people live for this feeling of pain. Normally my life is painful enough, so I don´t like that feeling much actually, but this time it was different. It felt like cheating that bitch fate, by being stronger than its ordeals.

 And eventually I arrived on top of the hill. There wild pigs roam free.

 I followed the fireroad winding, sloping gently, making for a good way to recover from the ordeal.

 I rode some technical singletrail also, and it was good fun.

 Up another incline, I arrived at a place I cherish in my heart. There are three oak stems growing from one root, and in between the stems I had sat even as a child. The tree has grown, and it survived the storm, and spring and winter are but a breath´s tide. My tiny problems just have no place there. There I am oak.

 Over the hills I looked, and dreamed...

 The lake, like a jewel embedded in a cloak of green.

 I had brought the Viking bush knife to give you a progress shoot.

 And then it was teatime. I sat and sipped some tea, while ants were scurrying over my feet.

 But they did no harm to me... it felt good, a bit like being welcome in this green world.

 Down the tricky, hairy, technical singletrack with good flow I rode, and relished in it.

 All of a sudden I was on my way back.

...and I would not have thought that this might as well be the end of it all at least for a long, long time.

For when I was on my way home, and it was well dark, the ratchet brace in my rear wheel slipped, my chain was thrown off, and my axle broke at the same time with the teeth on my rear cogs bending. I tried to fix it and limped home in the dark. Advice: Hyperglide cogs make for very poor excuses for singlespeed cogs.

And, the culprit is, I can never afford a new wheelset, a derailleur, new cogs and chain and front chainwheels at the same time. And, the spare derailleur hanger I ordered might not be available anymore, so I might also need a new frame.

But, coming back with all the pictures in my mind, you can bet your hat on me finding a way. I WILL ride. The woods are calling, and no catastrophe of my life will prevent me from answering.