Shopping traits of men and women

If a woman needs a new derailleur, she goes to the bike shop and buys a derailleur, a jersey and some socks.
If a guy needs a new pair of cycling shorts, he drives to three shops, looks at derailleurs then goes home and orders a derailleur online.
OK, sometimes he buys local, but if I had a dime for every pair of shorts that is being worn out there that really shouldn't be (I don't have to describe them to you, do I?), I'd buy myself the sweetest mountain bike on the planet and have enough left to retire so I could take a trip around the world.

So, this year, get your favorite cycling dude a new pair of shorts. Then place the old ones in the bottom of the trash bin where he won't find them. Oh, yeah, cut them into little pieces first.

We all thank you.

lucky

So, here was the scene in October as we checked in at the kiosk at the Ted airport:
We got in line at the self check-in. Placed the bike boxes - yes, standard cardboard boxes - on the scale.

Attendant: are these bikes?
me: yes, or you could say fitness equipment :-)
jon: kinetic sculpture :-)
End of conversation. I see Jon is holding his credit card in hand, awaiting the ding of the airline fee. Then, she attaches the baggage stickers, shows us where to sign, then directs us to the TSA oversize check in. Hmm. We take the bikes to the TSA guy and he asks a couple questions, then pushes them through a door. Done.

We start walking toward our gate, prepared to go through security to wait for our flight to board. Wow, we both are looking at each other, we just saved $100! That's a good way to start a vacation.

Thanks, airline gal for being so nice.
Hope you don't get into trouble.

desert to snow

Just over a week ago Jon & I were riding a desert singletrack in sunny 70-degree weather. The 22-mile trail in southern Utah was the final ride for our mountain biking vacation and road trip. We climbed, descended and swooped along trails that were at times rocky, but often just smooth routes among the thigh-high bushes and low cacti.

There was little shade and we drank all the water we had with us. The salt lines where my water pack met my back were etched on my shirt. I told Jon the ride took more out of me than a 40-mile ride on Ressurection Trail.

Fast forward to this Saturday night. Mountain bikes still in their boxes, I pulled my winter commuter off the wall and aired up the studded tires. Tomorrow, we ride. Woke Sunday morning to snow falling. Not much; I've got SnowCat rims. But it did take awhile - over an hour to pedal the nine miles to the shop. Snow clumped on my glasses - should've put in the contacts - making it a bit hard to see the best line to ride. After watching the snow fall most of the day at work, ventured out again. Deeper, sticky snow slowed the way, but then we got lucky.

Partway up Abbott Road, we stopped to drop something at a friend's house. Returning to the Abbott bike path we saw that the path plow had gone through. "Yeah!" The road wasn't even plowed yet, so we hopped on the trail and headed up to newly-renamed "Elmore Road." Maybe that would be plowed too? Sure enough. Easy going to the Campbell Tract, then a wonderful ride on Moose Track Trail.

There's nothing quite like returning from a biking vacation to find good riding conditions here at home. And while many wouldn't consider the snow to be "good riding conditions," for us it was perfect.